tree, tree, tree,
trrrrrrr, Turr, turr, turr, tur, tur, Wee, wee, wee, we"--

The little creature was sitting up high on its hind legs, its belly
muscles were working, its mouth was gaping as it poured out its music.
For fully half a minute this went on, when Skookum made a dash; but the
mouse was quick and it flashed into the safety of its cranny.

Rolf gazed at Quonab inquiringly.

"That is Mish-a-boh-quas, the singing mouse. He always comes to tell of
war. In a little while there will be fighting."

Chapter 66. A Lesson in Stalking

"Did you ever see any fighting, Quonab?"

"Ugh! In Revolution, scouted for General Gates."

"Judging by the talk, we're liable to be called on before a year. What
will you do?"

"Fight."

"As soldier?"

"No! scout."

"They may not want us."

"Always want scouts," replied the Indian.

"It seems to me I ought to start training now."

"You have been training."

"How is that?"

"A scout is everything that an army is, but it's all in one man. An' he
don't have to keep step."

"I see, I see," replied Rolf, and he realized that a scout is merely
a trained hunter who is compelled by war to hunt his country's foes
instead of the beasts of the woods.

"See that?" said the Indian, and he pointed to a buck that was nosing
for cranberries in the open expanse across the river where it left the
lake. "Now, I show you scouting." He glanced at the smoke from the fire,
found it right for his plan, and said: "See! I take my bow. No cover,
yet I will come close and kill that deer."

Then began a performance that was new to Rolf, and showed that the
Indian had indeed reached the highest pitch of woodcraft. He took his
bow and three good arrows, tied a band around his head, and into this
stuck a lot of twigs and vines, so that his head looked like a tussock
of herbage. Then he left the shanty door, and, concealed by the last
bushes on the edge, he reached the open plain. Two hundred yards off was
the buck, nosing among the herbage, and, from time to time, raising its
superb head and columnar neck to look around. There was no cover but
creeping herbage. Rolf suspected that the Indian would decoy the buck by
some whistle or challenge, for the thickness of its neck showed the deer
to be in fighting humour.

Flat on his breast the Indian lay. His knees and elbow seemed to develop
centipedic power; his head was a mere clump of growing stuff. He snaked
his way quietly for twenty-five