“Be careful, lads,” he said, “and now is your chance, Lieutenant, to show how well you can keep up the start you’ve made as a trailer.  That smoke over there which merges from several camp fires is our beacon.”

They crept through the thickets.  Grosvenor saw the dark gray tower against the sky grow larger and larger, and at last a luminous glow that came from the camp fires, rose under the horizon.

“To the edge of this last hill,” whispered Willet, “and I think we can see them.”

They redoubled their care as they advanced, and then, thrusting their heads through the bushes, looked down into the little valley in which the camp of St. Luc was pitched.

Several fires were burning, and Robert distinctly saw the French leader standing before one of them, not in forest green, but in his splendid officer’s uniform of white and silver.  A gallant and romantic figure he looked, outlined by the blaze, young, lithe and strong.  Again the heart of the lad throbbed, and he was drawn powerfully toward St. Luc.  What was it that caused this feeling and why had the Chevalier on more than one occasion and at risk shown himself to be his friend?

Not as many in the camp as they had expected had yet gone to sleep.  Tandakora, somber and gigantic, gnawed the flesh from the big bone of a deer and then, throwing the bone into the fire, approached St. Luc.  Robert saw them talking and presently De Courcelles and Jumonville came also.  The four talked a little while and now and then the Chevalier pointed toward the south.

“That is where they intend their blow to fall,” whispered Tayoga.

“Beyond a doubt, lad,” the hunter whispered back, “but we may be able to anticipate ’em.”

The wild scene, the like of which he had never looked upon before, cast a strange spell over Grosvenor.  He too recognized, even at the distance, the power of St. Luc’s personality, and Tandakora, looming, immense, in the firelight, was like some monster out of an earlier, primordial world.  Warriors and soldiers asleep were scattered before the fires, and, at the edge of the forest, walked the sentinels.  It was an alert and formidable camp, and the young Englishman felt that he and his comrades were grazing the extreme edge of danger.

De Courcelles and Jumonville presently left St. Luc and went to another fire, where they lay down and fell asleep, their military cloaks spread over them.  Then the short, dark Canadian Dubois appeared and St. Luc spoke to him also.  Dubois bowed respectfully and brought a blanket, which he spread before the fire.  St. Luc lay down on it, and he too was soon asleep.

“It’s time for us to go,” whispered Willet, “but I’d feel safer if Tandakora also went to sleep.  That savage is likely to send out scouts.”

“Tandakora does not mean to sleep to-night,” said Tayoga.  “He suspects that we are somewhere near and he is troubled.  If he were not uneasy he would take his rest, which is what a chief always does when the opportunity presents itself.  But he has thrown his second bone into the fire, and he walks about, looking now at the sleepers and now at the forest.  I think he will soon send two or three runners toward the south.  See, he is speaking to them now, and two are starting.”