He was a strange, quiet man, not as
strong as the others of the crew, but of use to me for his knowledge of
woodcraft. As a boy he had been held captive by the Mohawks, and he
was almost as deft of hand and eye as they.
"Have you seen any sign or sound of Indian or white men in these three
weeks?" I asked him.
He looked at me rather sullenly. "Yes. A canoe went through here one
night about a week ago."
"Who was in it?"
"I do not know."
"You should have followed."
"I did."
"You should have reported to me."
He glowered at me with the eye of a rebellious panther. "I watched.
The master went away." Then he showed his teeth in open defiance. "I
watched every night on the beach. The master slept or went away."
I opened my mouth to order him under guard, but I did not form the
words. I thought of the way that he had spent his days working on the
delicately fashioned canoe and his nights in keeping guard. And all
for the woman. Women make mischief in the wilderness. I grew pitiful.
"Watch again to-night," I said kindly, "and you shall sleep to-morrow.
Simon, I thought that I heard the sound of an axe off the south shore
to-day. I shall take the small canoe at daybreak and see what I can
find.
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