announced the presence of a river, an obstacle that might prove
formidable to foresters less expert than they. It was lined on both
sides with dense forest, and they walked along its bank about a mile
until they came to a comparatively shallow place where they forded it in
water above their knees. However, their leggings and moccasins dried
fast in the midsummer sun, and, experiencing no discomfort, they pressed
forward with unabated speed.

All the afternoon they continued their great journey to save those at
the fort, fording another river and a half dozen creeks and leaping
across many brooks. Twice they crossed trails leading to the east and
twice other trails leading to the west, but they felt that all of them
would presently turn and join in the general march converging upon Fort
Refuge. They were sure, too, that De Courcelles, Tandakora and their
band were marching on a line almost parallel with them, and that they
would offer the greatest danger.

Night came, a beautiful, bright summer night with a silky blue sky in
which multitudes of silver stars danced, and they sought a covert in a
dense thicket where they lay on their blankets, ate venison, and talked
a little before they slept.

Robert's brilliant and enthusiastic mood lasted. He could see nothing
but success. With the fading of the great slaughter by the river came
other pictures, deep of hue, intense and charged with pleasant memories.
Life recently had been a great panorama to him, bright and full of
changes. He could not keep from contrasting his present position, hid in
a thicket to save himself from cruel savages, with those vivid days at
Quebec, his gorgeous period in New York, and the gay time with sporting
youth in the cozy little capital of Williamsburg.