summoned Deerfoot down the mountain side, he was
glad indeed that he had decided the question whether or not he should
hunt for the boys as he did, for, had he done otherwise, the opportunity
that has been described could not have come to him; but, when his duty
was ended, the old doubt came back, until he had been driven to return
in order that he might settle the question forever.

Looking down on the little settlement of Martinsville, he studied the
curious scene, for he was so close that he could identify every person
whom he knew. The settlement, as the reader has been told, consisted of
two rows of log cabins, facing each other. They numbered about a score,
and the street was fifty feet wide. Besides that, each cabin had the
same space between itself and its neighbor, so that, few as were the
structures, they were scattered over considerable ground.

This ground, as well as much of it beyond, had been well cleared, and
the earth cultivated. There were horses and oxen to draw plows and help
bear the burdens. Besides the hunters' cabins, there were storehouses,
barns, and structures made for convenience or necessity. From most of
the soil that had been overturned were sprouting corn, potatoes, and
other vegetables. The time was not distant when the wilderness should
blossom as the rose.

A block-house near the middle of the settlement had been half completed,
when, so far as could be seen, the work was abandoned. The rule with the
frontier settlements was to put up a building in which all could take
refuge, should danger threaten; but often the fort was so hastily and
poorly made that it became a matter of weakness rather than of strength.
Colonel Martin and his brother pioneers reached the conclusion that they
were showing altogether too much haste in rearing the structure, and
they deferred its completion to a more convenient season. Their duty to
their families, as they saw it, justified them in taking such a step,
especially in view of the fact that the Indians of the surrounding
country were not likely ever to cause them trouble.

The cleared land, as it was called, was still disfigured by numerous
unsightly stumps, around which the rude plow was pulled; but here and
there men were working to remove them, and ultimately all would be
uprooted and destroyed.

On the edge of the clearing, three woodsmen were swinging their axes and
burying their keen edges in the hearts of the monarchs of the wood.
Deerfoot l