his blanket was not so fine as Tayoga's,
although he found it soft and warm enough. Willet sat on a log higher
up, his rifle across his knees and gazed humorously at them.

"You two lads look pretty snug down there," he said, "and after all
you're only lads. Tayoga may have a head plumb full of the wisdom of the
wilderness, and Robert may have a head stuffed with different kinds of
knowledge, but you're young, mighty young, anyhow. An' now, as I'm
watching over you, I'll give a prize to the one that goes to sleep
first."

In three minutes deep regular breathing showed that both had gone to the
land of slumber, and Willet could not decide which had led the way. The
darkness increased so much that their figures looked dim in the hollow,
but he glanced at them occasionally. The big man had many friends, but
young Lennox and Tayoga were almost like sons to him, and he was glad to
be with them now. He felt that danger lurked in the northern wilderness,
and three were better than two.

CHAPTER III

THE TOMAHAWK

Willet awakened Robert about two o'clock in the morning--it was
characteristic of him to take more than his share of the work--and the
youth stood up, with his rifle in the hollow of his arm, ready at once.

"Tayoga did more yesterday than either of us," said the hunter, "and so
we'll let him sleep."

But the Onondago had awakened, though he did not move. Forest discipline
was perfect among them, and, knowing that it was Robert's time to watch,
he wasted no time in vain talk about it. His eyes closed again and he
returned to sleep as the white lad walked up the bank, while the hunter
was soon in the dreams that Tarenyawagon, who makes them, sent to him.

Robert on the bank, although he expected no danger, was alert. He had
plenty of wilderness skill and his senses, naturally acute, had been
trained so highly that he could discern a hostile approach in the
darkness. The same lore of the forest told him to keep himself
concealed, and he sat on a fallen tree trunk between two bushes that hid
him completely, although his own good eyes, looking through the leaves,
could see a long distance, despite the night.

It was inevitable as he sat there in the silence and darkness with his
sleeping comrades below that his thoughts should turn to St. Luc. He had
recognized in the first moment of their meeting that the young Frenchman
was a personality. He was a personality in the sense that Tayoga was,
one who radi