"Do you really mean that, Henry?" asked Dave, resting for a moment and
gazing sharply at the other.

Henry colored slightly. "I suppose you think I'd rather be out hunting with
White Buffalo's crowd," he said slowly.

"Wouldn't you? Tell the plain truth?"

"Perhaps I would. But I don't let myself think about it, Dave. This work
has got to be done, and I mean to do my full share of it. I reckon
everybody has to do things he don't just like in this life."

"I think you are right there--I know I often have to do 'em."

"And it don't do to growl either. The best thing to do is to pitch in and
get through as fast as possible," went on Henry, and then set to chopping
with renewed vigor.

"Do you remember the time we first started to chop down trees?" continued
Dave. "How our hands got blistered, and how we wouldn't give up because the
men were looking on?"

"Indeed I do. What a lot has happened since that time! The war, and our
going to Fort Niagara, and then down the Lakes and the St. Lawrence to
Quebec and Montreal, and all the fighting! In one way, Dave, we have seen
quite something of life."

"So we have. But I want no more war."