in forest green, but in his
splendid officer's uniform of white and silver. A gallant and romantic
figure he looked, outlined by the blaze, young, lithe and strong.
Again the heart of the lad throbbed, and he was drawn powerfully
toward St. Luc. What was it that caused this feeling and why had the
Chevalier on more than one occasion and at risk shown himself to be
his friend?

Not as many in the camp as they had expected had yet gone to sleep.
Tandakora, somber and gigantic, gnawed the flesh from the big bone of
a deer and then, throwing the bone into the fire, approached St. Luc.
Robert saw them talking and presently De Courcelles and Jumonville
came also. The four talked a little while and now and then the
Chevalier pointed toward the south.

"That is where they intend their blow to fall," whispered Tayoga.

"Beyond a doubt, lad," the hunter whispered back, "but we may be able
to anticipate 'em."

The wild scene, the like of which he had never looked upon before,
cast a strange spell over Grosvenor. He too recognized, even at the
distance, the power of St. Luc's personality, and Tandakora, looming,
immense, in the firelight, was like some monster out of an earlier,
primordial world. Warriors and soldiers asleep were scattered before
the fires, and, at the edge of the forest, walked the sentinels. It
was an alert and formidable camp, and the young Englishman felt that
he and his comrades were grazing the extreme edge of danger.

De Courcelles and Jumonville presently left St. Luc and went to
another fire, where they lay down and fell asleep, their military
cloaks spread over them. Then the short, dark Canadian Dubois appeared
and St. Luc spoke to him also. Dubois bowed respectfully and brought a
blanket, which he spread before the fire. St. Luc lay down on it, and
he too was soon asleep.

"It's time for us to go," whispered Willet, "but I'd feel safer
if Tandakora also went to sleep. That savage is likely to send out
scouts."

"Tandakora does not mean to sleep to-night," said Tayoga. "He suspects
that we are somewhere near and he is troubled. If he were not uneasy
he would take his rest, which is what a chief always does when the
opportunity presents itself. But he has thrown his second bone into
the fire, and he walks about, looking now at the sleepers and now at
the forest. I think he will soon send two or three runners toward the
south. See, he is speaking to them now, and two are starting."

Two Indians