on the stumps. Both Grosvenor
and Robert were glad when they were inside the logs once more, and
Colden was glad to see them.

"For all I knew you had fallen," he said, "and I can't spare you."

"We left our mark on 'em," said the saturnine Black Rifle. "They know
we're waiting for 'em."

The demonstration increased in volume, the whole forest ringing with
the fierce whoops. Stout nerves even had good excuse for being shaken,
and Colden paled a little, but his soul was high.

"Sound and fury but no attack," he said.

Willet looked at him approvingly.

"You've become a true forest leader, Captain Colden," he said. "You've
learned to tell the real rush from the pretended one. They won't try
anything yet a while, but they're madder than hornets, and they're
sure to move on us later. You just watch."

Yet Colden, Wilton and the others were compelled to argue with the
men, especially with the boat builders and wood choppers. Stern
military discipline was unknown then in the forest; the private often
considered himself a better man than his officer, and frequently told
him so. Troops from the towns or the older settled regions seemed
never to grow used to Indian methods of warfare. They walked again and
again into the same sort of ambush. Now, they felt sure, because the
Indian fire had evaporated in scattered shots, that the French and the
warriors had gone away, and that they might as well be asleep, save
for the guards. But Colden repressed them with a stern hand.

"If it hadn't been for our experience at Fort Refuge I might feel that
way myself," he said. "The silence is certainly consoling, and makes
one feel that all danger has passed."

"The silence is what I dread most," said Robert. "Is anything stirring
on the lake?"

"Not a thing," replied Wilton, who had been watching in that quarter.
"I never saw George look more peaceful."

Robert suggested that they go down to the shore again, and Wilton,
Grosvenor and he walked through the camp, not stopping until they
stood at the water's edge.

"You surely don't anticipate anything here," said Wilton.

"I don't know," replied Robert, thoughtfully, "but our enemies, both
French and Indians, are full of craft. We must guard against wile and
stratagem."

Wilton looked out over the lake, where the gentle wind still blew and
the rippling waters made a slight sighing sound almost like a lullaby.
The opposite cliffs rose steep and lofty, showing dimly through the