e content with what they had already seen. The cave had many
wonders, but the sunshine outside was glorious and the vast mass of
green forest was very restful to the eye. There was hunting to be done,
too, and in this Henry bore a good part, he and Ross supplying the fresh
meat for their table.

A fine river flowed not two miles away and Paul installed himself as
chief fisherman, bringing them any number of splendid large fish, very
savory to the taste. Ross and Sol roamed far among the woods, but they
reported absolutely no Indian sign.

"I don't believe any of the warriors from either north or south have
been in these parts for years," said Ross.

"Luckily for us," added Mr. Pennypacker, "I don't want another such
retreat as that we had from the salt springs."

Ross's words came true. The powder-making was finished in peace, and the
journey home was made under the same conditions. At Wareville there was
a shout of joy and exultation at their arrival. They felt that they
could hold their village now against any attack, and Mr. Pennypacker was
a great man, justly honored among his people. He had shown them how to
make powder, which was almost as necessary to them as the air they
breathed, and moreover they knew where they could always get materials
needed for making more of it.

Truly learning was a great thing to have, and they respected it.

CHAPTER XI

THE FOREST SPELL

When the adventurers returned the rifle and ax were laid aside at
Wareville, for the moment, because the supreme test was coming. The soil
was now to respond to its trial, or to fail. This was the vital question
to Wareville. The game, in the years to come, must disappear, the forest
would be cut down, but the qualities of the earth would remain; if it
produced well, it would form the basis of a nation, if not, it would be
better to let all the work of the last year go and seek another home
elsewhere.

But the settlers had little doubt. All their lives had been spent close
to the soil, and they were not to be deceived, when they came over the
mountains in search of a land richer than any that they had tilled
before. They had seen its blackness, and, plowing down with the spade,
they had tested its depth. They knew that for ages and ages leaf and
bough, falling upon it, had decayed there and increased its fertility,
and so they awaited the test with confidence.

The green young shoots of the wheat, sown before the winter, were the