notion that he had run with the others.

"Wimmen!" Mrs. Cowan fairly roared. "Wimmen! Tell us how ye went in
March with the boys to fight the varmints at the Sugar Orchard, Swein!"

We all laughed, for we loved him none the less. His little blue eyes
were perfectly solemn as he answered:--

"Ve send you fight Injuns mit your tongue, Mrs. Cowan. Then we haf no
more troubles."

"Land of Canaan!" cried she, "I reckon I could do more harm with it than
you with a gun."

There were many such false alarms in the bright days following, and
never a bullet sped from the shadow of the forest. Each day we went
farther afield, and each night trooped merrily in through the gates with
hopes of homes and clearings rising in our hearts--until the motionless
figure of the young Virginian met our eye. It was then that men began
to scoff at him behind his back, though some spoke with sufficient
backwoods bluntness to his face. And yet he gave no sign of anger or
impatience. Not so the other leaders. No sooner did the danger seem past
than bitter strife sprang up within the walls. Even the two captains
were mortal enemies. One was Harrod, a tall, spare, dark-haired man of
great endurance,--a type of the best that conquered the land for the
nation; the other, that Hugh McGary of whom I have spoken, coarse and
brutal, if you like, but fearless and a leader of men withal.

A certain Sunday morning, I remember, broke with a cloud-flecked sky,
and as we were preparing to go afield with such ploughs as could be got
together (we were to sow turnips) the loud sounds of a quarrel came
from the elm at the spring. With one accord men and women and children
flocked thither, and as we ran we heard McGary's voice above the rest.
Worming my way, boylike, through the crowd, I came upon McGary and
Harrod glaring at each other in the centre of it.

"By Job! there's no devil if I'll stand back from my clearing and waste
the rest of the summer for the fears of a pack of cowards. I'll take
a posse and march to Shawanee Springs this day, and see any man a fair
fight that tries to stop me."

"And who's in command here?" demanded Harrod.

"I am, for one," said McGary, with an oath, "and my corn's on the ear.
I've held back long enough, I tell you, and I'll starve this winter for
you nor any one else."

Harrod turned.

"Where's Clark?" he said to Bowman.

"Clark!" roared McGary, "Clark be d--d. Ye'd think he was a woman."
He strode up to Harrod unti