tor first, and a savage afterward, he yielded the point.

So now I made him known to my patriarchal host, who all this time had
been standing guard at the cabin door with the old Queen's-arm for a
weapon. So we three sat on the door-stone and planned it out. When the
night was far enough advanced, we would stalk the soldiers in their
camp, sparing life as we could.

When all was settled, the old man gave us a supper of his humble fare,
after which we went into the open again to sit out the hours of waiting.
The rain had ceased, but the night was cloudy and the darkness a soft
black veil to shroud the nearest objects. High overhead the autumn wind
was sighing in the tree-tops, and now and again a sharper gust would
bring down a pattering volley of lodged rain-drops on the fallen leaves.

Uncanoola sat apart in stoical silence, smoking his long-stemmed pipe.
The old man and I talked in low tones, or rather he would tell me of his
past whilst I sat and listened, holding the little maid in my arms.

After a time the child fell asleep, and I craved permission to put her
in the little crib bed in the chimney corner. The flickering light of
the fire fell upon her innocent face when I loosed the clasp of the tiny
hands about my neck and laid her down. Again the wave of softness
submerged me and I bent to leave a kiss upon the sweet unconscious lips.

Ah, my dears, you may smile again, if you will; but at that moment I had
a far-off glimpse of the beatitude of fatherhood; I was no longer the
hard old soldier I have drawn for you; I was but a man, hungering and
thirsting for the love of a wife and trusting, clinging little children
like this sweet maid.

I rose, turning my back upon the chimney corner and its holdings with a
sigh. For now the time was come for action, and I must needs be a man of
blood and iron again.

Lacking the Catawba to guide us, I doubt if either the old man or I
could have found my rearguard's bivouac near the trail I had left. But
Uncanoola led us straight through the pitchy darkness; and when we were
come upon the three soldiers we found them all asleep around the handful
of camp-fire.

'Twould have been murder outright to kill them thus; and now I think the
old patriarch forgot his wrongs and was as merciful as I. But not so the
Catawba. He had armed himself with a stout war-club, and before I was
free to stop him he had knocked two of the three sleepers senseless, and
would have battered out th