he heard the wind rustling through the dry leaves, that there would be
no English campaign that year. One might lead an army in winter on the
good roads and through the open fields of Europe, but then only
borderers could make way through the vast North American wilderness in
the deep snows and bitter cold, where Indian trails alone existed. The
hunter foresaw a long delay before the British and Colonial forces
moved, and meanwhile the French and Indians would be more strongly
planted in the territory claimed by the rival nations, and, while in
law possession was often nine points, it seemed in war to be ten
points and all.

As he walked back and forth Black Rifle touched him on the arm.

"I'm going, Dave," he said. "They don't need me here any
longer. Daganoweda and his Mohawks, likely enough, will follow the
French and Indians, and have another brush with 'em. At any rate, it's
sure that St. Luc and Tandakora won't come back, and these young men
can go on without being attacked again and build their fort. But
they'll be threatened there later on, and I'll come again with a
warning."

"I know you will," said Willet. "Wherever danger appears on the
border, Black Rifle, there you are. I see great and terrible days
ahead for us all."

"And so do I," said Black Rifle. "This continent is on fire."

The two shook hands, and the somber figure of Black Rifle disappeared
in the forest. Willet looked after him thoughtfully, and then resumed
his pacing to and fro.