A dark, powerfully built man, the Canadian, Dubois, brought him food which he ate mechanically.
The dusk floated away, and the sun came up, great and brilliant.

The three stirred in their covert, and Willet whispered that it was time for them to be going.
"Only the most marvelous luck could save us from detection in the daylight," he said, "because presently the Indians, growing restless, will wander about the camp." "I'm willing to go," Robert whispered back.

"I know the danger is too great.

Besides I'm starving to death, and the odors of all their good food will hasten my death, if I don't take an antidote." They retreated with the utmost care and Robert drew an immense breath of relief when they were a full mile away.

It was well to look upon the French and Indian camp, but it was better to be beyond the reach of those who made it.
"And now we make a camp of our own, don't we ?" he said.