nd get around
the village and back into their trail with the herd. They traveled
some miles in the long twilight and stopped at the Stony Brook Ford,
where there were good water and sufficient grazing.

"Here's whar the ol' Green Mountain Trail comes down from the north an'
crosses the one we're on," said Solomon.

They dismounted and Solomon hobbled a number of horses while Jack was
building a fire. The scout, returning from the wild meadow, began to
examine some tracks he had found at the trail crossing. Suddenly he
gave a whistle of surprise and knelt on the ground.

"Look 'ere, Jack," he called.

The boy ran to his side.

"Now this 'ere is suthin' cur'user than the right hoof o' the devil,"
said Solomon Binkus, as he pointed with his forefinger at a print in
the soft dirt.

Jack saw the print of the wooden stump with the iron ring around its
base which the boy had not forgotten. Near it were a number of
moccasin tracks.

"What does this mean?" he asked.

"Wall, sir, I cocalate it means that ol' Mike Harpe has been chased out
o' the Ohio country an' has come down the big river an' into Lake
Champlain with some o' his band an' gone to cuttin' up an' been
obleeged to take to the bush. They've robbed somebody an' are puttin'
fer salt water. They'll hire a boat an' go south an' then p'int fer
the 'Ganies. Ol' Red Snout shoved his leg in that 'ere gravel sometime
this forenoon prob'ly."

They brewed tea to wet their buttered biscuit and jerked venison.

Solomon looked as if he were sighting on a gun barrel when he said:

"Now ye see what's the matter with this 'ere Injun business. They're
jest a lot o' childern scattered all over the bush an' they don't have
to look fer deviltry. Deviltry is lookin' fer them an' when they git
together thar's trouble."

Solomon stopped, now and then, to peer off into the bush as he talked
while the dusk was falling. Suddenly he put his finger to his lips.
His keen eyes had detected a movement in the shadowy trail.

"Hide an' horns o' the devil!" he exclaimed in a low tone. "This 'ere
may be suthin' neevarious. Shove ol' Marier this way an' grab yer
pistols an' set still."

He crept on his hands and knees with the strap of his rifle in his
teeth to the edge of the bush, where he sat for a moment looking and
listening. Suddenly Solomon arose and went back in the trail,
indicating with a movement of his hand that the boy was not to follow.
About fifteen rods fr