way."

"So it is," said Jim Hart, "or at least it's gittin' ready. Spring ain't
far off, an' I'm glad, Paul. I'm tired uv winter, an' I want to be
strikin' out on the great war trail."

"So do I," said Paul.

"Wa'al, fur the matter o' that," said Shif'less Sol, "we've been on the
great war trail fur three or four months now. There ain't to be no change
except in the shiftin' o' the trail."

The warm wind continued to blow for days, the surface of the ice on the
lake softened, and the snow began to melt. Still it blew, and the melted
snow ran in rivers, the ice broke up into great sheets and chunks, and
these, too, rapidly dissolved. Then a warm rain came, pouring for a day
and a night, and the ice and snow were swept away entirely. But the whole
earth ran water. Lakes stood in the forest, and every brook and creek,
rushing in torrents, leaped its banks.

The five had remained in their hut when the rain came down, but two days
later Henry and Ross were rowed over in the canoe, and went away to spy
out the country. When they returned they said that the great war party of
the allied tribes would soon be in motion, and it was time for the five to
take their flight.

A warm sun had been shining for days, and the earth had dried again. The
turbulent brooks and creeks had withdrawn to their accustomed beds, and
faint touches of green were beginning to show in the wilderness.

"We'll leave our house just as we have built it," said Henry.

"Unless a white man should come wandering here, and that isn't likely, it
won't be disturbed. It's been a good place for us."

"Yes," said Paul, "it has been a good home to us. I've spent a happy
winter here, and I want to see it again."

But they had little time for sentiment. They were making the fast touches
of preparation for the second stage of the great war trail--arranging
clothing, light supplies of food, and, above all, ammunition. Then they
left at night in their canoe. As they approached the mainland, all, as if
by involuntary impulse, looked back at the haunted island, looming darkly
in the night.

"It was no haunted island for us," said Paul.

"No," said Henry.

They landed, hid the canoe, and then, plunging into the forest, sped far
to the south and east on tireless feet.

CHAPTER XIX

THE WARNING

Meanwhile war belts were passing through all the forest, from tribe to
tribe, to Shawnee, Miami, Ottawa, Wyandot--to every band, large or small.
Another gr