“You’re right, Tayoga,” said Willet, after examining minutely.

“It follows, then,” said the young Onondaga, in his precise tones, “that the white man was following the red men.”

“It bears that look.”

“And you will notice, Great Bear, and you, too, Dagaeoga, that the white man’s moccasin has made a very large imprint.  The owner of the foot is big.  I know of none other in the forest so big except the Great Bear himself.”

“Black Rifle!” exclaimed Robert, with a flash of insight.

“It can be none other.”

“And he’s following on the trail of these Indians, intending to ambush them when they camp tonight.  He hunts them as we would hunt wolves.”

Robert shuddered a little.  It was a time when human life was held cheap in the wilderness, but he could not bring himself to slay except in self-defense.

“We need Black Rifle,” said Willet, “and they’ll need him more at the fort.  We’ve an hour of fair sunlight left, and we must follow this trail as fast as we can and call him back.  Lead the way, Tayoga.”

The young Onondaga, without a word, set out at a running walk, and the others followed close behind.  It was a plain trail.  Evidently the warriors had no idea that they were followed, and the same was true of Black Rifle.  Tayoga soon announced that both pursuers and pursued were going slowly, and, when the last sunlight was fading, they stopped at the crest of a hill and called, imitating first the cry of a wolf, and then the cry of an owl.

“He can’t be more than three or four hundred yards away,” said Willet, “and he may not understand either cry, but he’s bound to know that they mean something.”

“Suppose we stand out here where he can see us,” said Robert.  “He must be lurking in the thickets just ahead.”

“The simplest way and so the right way,” said Willet.  “Come forth, you lads, where the eyes of Black Rifle may look upon you.”

The three advanced from the shelter of the woods, and stood clearly outlined in an open space.  A whistle came from a thicket scarce a hundred yards before them, and then they saw the striking figure of the great, swarthy man emerging.  He came straight toward them, and, although he would not show it in his manner, Robert saw a gleam of gladness in the black eyes.

“What are you doing here, you three?” he asked.

“Following you,” replied Robert in his usual role of spokesman.

“Why?”

“Tayoga saw the trail of the Indians overlaid by yours.  We knew you were pursuing them, and we’ve come to stop you.”

“By what right?”

“Because you’re needed somewhere else.  You’re to go with us to Fort Refuge.”

“What has happened?”

“Braddock’s army was destroyed near Fort Duquesne.  The general and many of his officers were killed.  The rest are retreating far into the east.  We’re on our way to Fort Refuge to save the garrison and people if we can, and you’re to go with us.”