k yonder. And last night on his way back from Master Breckenridge's,
Enoch saw a campfire in the forest and a man sitting by it. An Indian
youth whom perhaps you have seen here--Crow Wing, he is called--was with
the man. Crow Wing drove Enoch off before he could find out who the
white man was."

"Crow Wing, eh?" repeated 'Siah, shaking his head thoughtfully. "I know
the red scamp. If he was treated right by the settlers, though, he'd be
decent enough. But he got angry at Breckenridge's yesterday, they tell
me. Somebody spoke roughly to him. You can ruffle the feathers of them
birds mighty easy."

This was all the comment the ranger made upon the story; but later he
wandered down to the new lot which the Hardings were clearing, and
instead of lending a hand inquired particularly of Enoch where he had
seen the campfire the night before. Learning the direction he plunged
into the wood without further ado and went to the ford, crossing it with
caution and going at once to the vicinity of the fire which Enoch had
observed. But the ashes had been carefully covered and little trace of
the occupation of the spot left. At one point, however, 'Siah found
where two persons--a white man and a red one--had embarked in a canoe
which had been hidden under the bank of the creek. Evidently Crow Wing
had expected the place would be searched and had done all in his power
to mystify the curious.

When 'Siah returned Mistress Harding had called up the children and
supper--a holiday meal--was almost ready. A lamb had been killed the day
before and was stuffed and baked in the Dutch oven. There were light
white-flour biscuits, Enoch had ridden to Bennington with the wheat
slung across his saddle to have it ground, and there was sweet butter
and refined maple sap which every family in the Grants boiled down in
the spring for its own use, although as yet there was little market for
it. It was a jolly meal, for when 'Siah came the children were sure of
something a bit extra, both to eat and to do. He taught the girls how to
make doll babies with cornsilk hair, and begged powder and shot of their
mother for Bryce and Enoch to use in shooting at a mark. Under his
instructions Enoch had become a fairly good marksman, while Bryce, by
resting his gun in the fork of a sapling set upright in the ground, did
almost as well as his elder brother.

After supper Bolderwood talked with the widow while he smoked his pipe.
"We need boys like Enoch, Mistres