The Corporal further said that our army was proceeding slowly, much time being consumed in laying the axe to the plum, peach, and apple orchards; and that it was a sad sight to see the heavily fruited trees fall over, crushing the ripe fruit into the mud.

He thought that the advanced guard of our army might be up by evening to burn Catharines-town, but was not certain.  Then he asked permission to go back and rejoin the scout which he commanded; which permission I gave, though it was not necessary; and away he went, running like a young deer that has lagged from the herd—­ a tall, fine, wholesome young fellow, and as sturdy and active as any I ever saw in rifle-dress and ruffles.

My Indians lay down on their bellies, stretching themselves out in the sun across the logs, and, save for the subdued but fierce glimmer under their lazy lids, they seemed as pleasant and harmless as four tawny pumas a-sunning on the rocks.

As for me, I wandered restlessly along the brook, as far as the bridge, and, seating myself here, fished out writing materials and my journal from my pouch, and filled in the events of the preceding days as briefly and exactly as I knew how.  Also I made a map of Catharines-town and of Yndaia from memory, resolving to correct it later when Mr. Lodge and his surveyors came up, if opportunity permitted.

As I sat there musing and watching the chickens loitering around the dooryard, I chanced to remember the milch cow.

Casting about for a receptacle, I discovered several earthen jars of Seneca make set in willow baskets and standing by the stream.  These I washed in the icy water, then slinging two of them on my shoulder I went in quest of the cow.

She proved tame enough and glad, apparently, to be relieved of her milk, I kneeling to accomplish the business, having had experience with the grass-guard of our army on more than one occasion.

Lord!  How sweet the fragrance of the milk to a man who had seen none in many days.  And so I carried back my jars and set them by the door of the bark house, covering each with a flat stone.  And as I turned away, I saw smoke coming from the chimney; and heard the shutters on the southern window being gently opened.

Lord!  What a sudden leap my heart gave as the door before me moved with the soft sliding of the great oak bolt, and was slowly opened wide to the morning sunshine.

For a moment I thought it was Lois who stood there so white and still, looking at me with grey, unfathomable eyes; then I stepped forward uncertainly, bending in silence over the narrow, sun-tanned hand that lay inert under the respectful but trembling salute I offered.

“Euan Loskiel,” she murmured in the French tongue, laying her other hand over mine and looking me deep in the eyes.  “Euan Loskiel, a soldier of the United States!  May God ever mount guard beside you for all your goodness to my little daughter.”