Again I shook my head, and for the life of me I could say nothing.

"I reckon Polly Ann'd never forgive me if anything was to happen to you,"
said he.

At that I grew strangely angry.

"It's you who need it," I cried, "it's you that has to do the work. And
she told me to take care of you."

The big fellow grinned sheepishly, as was his wont.

"'Tis only a bite," he pleaded, "'twouldn't only make me hungry,
and"--he looked hard at me--"and it might be the savin' of you. Ye'll
not eat it for Polly Ann's sake?" he asked coaxingly.

"'Twould not be serving her," I answered indignantly.

"Ye're an obstinate little deevil!" he cried, and, dropping the morsel on
the freshly cut stump, he stalked away. I ran after him, crying out, but
he leaped on the raft that was already in the stream and began to pole
across. I slipped the piece into my own hunting shirt.

All day the men who were too weak to swing axes sat listless on the bank,
watching in vain for some sight of the Willing. They saw a canoe
rounding the bend instead, with a single occupant paddling madly. And
who should this be but Captain Willing's own brother, escaped from the
fort, where he had been a prisoner. He told us that a man named
Maisonville, with a party of Indians, was in pursuit of him, and the next