“What will happen here, Tayoga?”

“The forces of Tandakora and De Courcelles will be burned worse than before.  The man Rogers, whom some of the Mohawks call the Mountain Wolf, is like a Mohawk warrior himself, always eager to fight.  He will want to push the battle and Great Bear, having so many men now, will be willing.”

The words of Tayoga came to pass.  After a long delay, accompanied by much scouting and attempts to feel out the defense, Tandakora and De Courcelles finally charged the ravine in force and suffered a bitter repulse.  Seventy or eighty rifles, aimed by cool and experienced sharpshooters, poured in a fire which they could not withstand, and so many warriors were lost that the Ojibway and the Frenchman retreated.  The Great Bear and the Mountain Wolf would not allow their eager men to follow, lest in their turn they fall into an ambush.

Later in the day the Indian horde returned a second time to the attack, with the same result, and when night came Tayoga and several others who went forward to scout reported that they had withdrawn several miles.  The white leaders then decided in conference that they had done enough for their purpose, and, after a long rest on their arms, withdrew slowly in the path of the retreating train, ready for another combat, if pursued too closely, but feeling sure that Tandakora and De Courcelles would not risk a battle once more.

They overtook the train late that evening and their welcome was enough to warm their hearts and to repay them for all the hardships and dangers endured.  Colden was the first to give them thanks, and his fine young face showed his emotion.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been back there with you,” he said, when he heard the report Robert made; “you had action, and you faced the enemy, while we have merely been running over the hills.”

“In truth you’ve made a good run of it,” said Robert, “and as I see it, it was just as necessary for you to run as it was for us to fight.  We had great luck, too, in the coming of Rogers and his men.”

That night the train, for the first time since it began its flight, made a real camp.  Willet, Rogers and all the great foresters thought it safe, as they were coming now so near to the settled regions, and the faces of the pursuers had been scorched so thoroughly.  Scouts and skirmishers were thrown out on all sides, and then fires were built of the fallen brushwood that lay everywhere in the forest.  The ample supplies in the wagons were drawn upon freely, and the returning victors feasted at their leisure.

It was a happy time for Robert.  His imaginative mind responded as usual to time and place.  They had won one victory.  It was no small triumph to protect the fugitive train, and so they would win many more.  He already saw them through the flame of his sanguine temperament, and the glow of the leaping fires helped in the happy effect.  All around him were cheerful faces and he heard the chatter of happy voices, their owners happy because they believed themselves released from a great and imminent danger.