be. It seems that they mean to stalk us, so we'll just stalk 'em back."

Four of the rangers, fine sharpshooters, edged their way along the
slope, and, when the warriors among the trees fired, pulled trigger by
the flash of their rifles. It was difficult to hit any one in such a
manner, and more than twenty shots were fired by the two sides, before a
death shout was uttered. Then it came from the forest, and Robert knew
that one warrior was gone. He was taking no present part in the battle
himself, held like the bulk of the force in reserve, but he was an
intent observer. Rogers, the daring leader of the rangers, still
standing by his side, took it all as a part of his daily work, which in
truth it was.

"I think it was Thayer who brought down that warrior," he said. "Thayer
is one of the bravest men I ever saw, and a great scout and trailer.
He'd be worthy to go with Willet and Tayoga and you. Ah, there goes a
second death shout! Any one who seeks a brush with these boys of mine
does it at his own risk."

He spoke proudly, but one of his own men came creeping back presently
with a wound in his shoulder. Rogers himself bound it up and the man lay
down in his blanket, confident that in a week he could resume his place
in the campaign. Those who lived the life he did had, of necessity,
bodies as hard as iron.

The deadly skirmishing died down repeatedly, but, after a little while,
it was always renewed. Though the warriors were getting the worst of it,
they persisted in the attack, and Robert knew they must have some
motive, not yet evident.