“The fog is gone,” said the hunter, “and eyes are useful once more.  I’ve been around the camp and there is no immediate threat hanging over us.  We can enjoy a good breakfast on Black Rifle’s cold bear, and then we’ll start on St. Luc’s trail.”

The path of the force that had marched past in the night was quite plain.  Even Grosvenor, with his inexperience, could tell that many men had walked there.  Most of the Frenchmen as well as the Indians had worn moccasins, but the imprints made by the boot heels of De Courcelles and Jumonville were clearly visible among the fainter traces.

“How many men would you say were in this force, Tayoga?” asked Willet.

“About fifty Frenchmen and maybe as many warriors,” replied the Onondaga.  “The Frenchmen stay together, but the warriors leave now and then in little parties, and the trail also shows where some of the parties came back.  See, Red Coat, here is where two warriors returned.  The French stay with St. Luc, not because they are not good scouts and trailers, but because the division of the work now allots this task to the Indians.”

“You’re right when you call the French good scouts and trailers,” said Willet.  “They seem to take naturally to forest life, and I know the Indians like them better than they do any other white people.  As I often tell Robert, here, the French are enemies of whom anybody can be proud.  There isn’t a braver race in the world.”

“I don’t underrate ’em,” said Grosvenor.

“It won’t be long until we reach their camp,” said Tayoga.  “Sharp Sword is too great a leader to have carried his men very far in a blind fog.  I do not think he went on more than a mile.  It is likely that he stopped at the first brook, and the slope of the ground shows that we will come soon to a stream.  More of the scouts that he sent out are returning to the main trail.  They could not have gone far in the fog and of course they found nothing.”

“We’ll have, then, to beware lest we run into their camp before they’ve left it,” said Willet.

“I don’t think Sharp Sword would stay there after dawn,” continued the Onondaga.  “The fact that he marched at night in the fog shows that he is eager to get on, and I am quite sure we will find a cold camp.  Here go the footsteps of St. Luc.  I know they are his, because his foot is small and he wears moccasins.  All the French soldiers have larger feet, and the other two Frenchmen, De Courcelles and De Jumonville, wear boots.  Sharp Sword does not regard the two officers with favor.  He does not associate with them more than is necessary.  He keeps on the right side of the trail and they on the left.  Here go his moccasins and there go their boots.”

“And straight ahead is the brook by the side of which we’ll find their camp,” said Robert, who had caught the silver flash of water through the green foliage.

The trail, as he had said, led to the brook where the signs of an encampment were numerous.