shed down its zigzag channel through the
rocks,--a song that seemed a part of the night, and yet was distinct
from the creeping, rustling, dropping, all-pervading life and stir of
the forest. Every leaf, every twig and root, every lump of sod and
rock-held pool of stagnant water, had its own miniature world, where
living things were fighting the battle of life. In the far distance,
perhaps, an owl hooted; or near at hand a flying squirrel alighted on
a bending elm-twig. Deer and moose followed their beaten tracks to the
streams that had been theirs before ever Frenchman pierced the forest;
beaver dove into their huts above the dams their own sharp teeth had
made; moles nosed under the rich soil, and left a winding track
behind; frogs croaked and bellowed from some backset of the
river,--and all blended, not, perhaps, so much into a sound, as into a
sense of movement,--an even murmur in a low key, to which the lighter
note of the water was apart and distinct.

To a man trained as Menard had been, this was companionship. He was
never alone in the forest, never without his millions of friends, who,
though they seldom came into his thoughts, were yet a part of him, of
his sense of life and strength. And through all these noises, even to
the roar of Niagara itself, he could sleep like a child, when the
slightest sound of a moccasined foot on a dry leaf would have aroused
him at the instant to full activity. To-night he lay awake for a long
time. With every day that he drew nearer the frontier came graver
doubts of the feasibility of the plan which had been intrusted to him.
The wretched business of La Grange's treachery and the stocking of the
King's galleys had probably alienated the Onondagas for all time.
Their presence on the St. Lawrence pointed to this. He felt safe
enough, personally, for the very imprudence of the Governor's
campaign, which had made it known so early to all the Iroquois, was an
element in his favour. The Iroquois, unlike many of the roaming
western tribes, had their settled villages, with lodges and fields of
grain to defend from invasion. One secret of the campaign had been
well kept; no one save the Governor's staff and Menard knew that the
blow was to fall on the Senecas alone. And Menard was certain enough
in his knowledge of Iroquois character to believe that each tribe,
from the Mohawks on the east to the Senecas on the west, would call in
its warriors, and concentrate to defend its villages. T