se and, looking down, saw the face of Caughnega peering in!

Fortunately for both, the savage did not see the perch and went away.
Later, Rodney, cramped and sore, crept out in quest of a drink of
water. On his return a sound inside attracted his notice and
listening, he heard sobbing. It was Louis. With a cry of joy the
little fellow threw himself into Rodney's arms, saying, "I thought you
had run away. Caughnega said you had. He was hunting for you last
night, and this morning I told him about this place but he came back
and said you were not here."

"Don't you ever tell him where I am when he's hunting for me. He hates
me and would like to kill me. But how came you here?"

"Maman was cross like a bear and Francois whipped me."

"And she let him do it?"

"Non, but she was so cross I wouldn't tell her. Francois was tipsy."

"The drunken dog! I'd like to horsewhip him. Well, you run back, and
when Ahneota is sober tell him I've not run away but will come back
when the carousal is ended. Don't say anything to any one else about
me. If Francois beats you again tell Maman."

Louis turned back toward the village and, at a turn in the path, met
the tipsy Francois. Rodney saw the meeting, and concealed himself
behind a tree.

The voyageur had no arms other than the knife in his belt. When he saw
Louis he cried, "_He bien! Tiens! prends cela_," slapping the little
fellow's face and knocking him down.

Seeing this Rodney was infuriated and forgot all caution. In a few
bounds he reached the voyageur and, as the latter turned, hit him a
stinging blow on the nose, following it with a well directed one on
the Frenchman's chin. The fellow went down like a log and Rodney on
top of him. He rolled the dazed man on to his face and bound his arms
behind his back with a leather thong he carried.

"I'll fix you if you ever strike Louis again. You get back to the
village and, if you want to live, you behave yourself."

Francois was a sorry sight with the blood streaming from his nose. He
was sobered and scared but he was to have revenge.

[Illustration: "HE ROLLED THE DAZED MAN ON TO HIS FACE AND BOUND HIS ARMS
BEHIND HIS BACK."]

CHAPTER XI

FATHER MOURNING FOR SON

What of David Allison's fortunes? Weeks had lengthened into months and
no word had come back to Charlottesville from the man whom the great
woods had swallowed.

After several weeks of weary travel, through forest and by river, the
party had reached