, with
his life and even with freedom. Life! How precious it was! Young
Lennox had said that the forest was beautiful, and it was! It was
splendid, grand, glorious to one who had just come out of the jaws of
death, and the air of late autumn was instinct with vitality. He drew
himself up jauntily, and his step became strong and springy.

They walked on many miles and Robert, whose speech had been so fluent
before, was silent now. Nor did the Onondaga speak either. Garay
himself hazarded a few words, but meeting with no response his spirits
fell a little. The trail led over a low ridge, and at its crest his
two guards stopped.

"Here we bid you farewell, Monsieur Achille Garay," said Robert.
"Doubtless you will wish to commune with your own thoughts and our
presence will no longer disturb you. Our parting advice to you is to
give up the trade in which you have been engaged. It is full perilous,
and it may be cut short at any time by sudden death. Moreover, it is
somewhat bare of honor, and even if it should be crowned by continued
success 'tis success of a kind that's of little value. Farewell."

"Farewell," said Garay, and almost before he could realize it, the two
figures had melted into the forest behind him. A weight was lifted
from him with their going, and once more his spirits bounded upward.
He was Achille Garay, bold and venturesome, and although he was
without weapons he did not fear two lads.

Three miles farther on he turned. He did not care to face St. Luc, his
letter lost, and the curious, dogged obstinacy that lay at the back of
his character prevailed. He would go back. He would reach those for
whom his letter had been intended, Martinus and the others, and he
would win the rich rewards that had been promised to him. He had
plenty of food, he would make a wide curve, advance at high speed and
get to Albany ahead of the foolish three.

He turned his face southward and walked swiftly through the thickets.
A rifle cracked and a twig overhead severed by a bullet fell upon his
face. Garay shivered and stood still for a long time. Courage trickled
back, and he resumed his advance, though it was slow. A second rifle
cracked, and a bullet passed so close to his cheek that he felt its
wind. He could not restrain a cry of terror, and turning again he fled
northward to St. Luc.

CHAPTER VI

PUPILS OF THE BEAR

When Robert and Tayoga returned to the camp and told Willet what they
had done the hunte