More than the rest he rejoiced in the prospect of combat.
They did not seek battle and they fought only when they were compelled to do so, but he, with his whole nature embittered forever by that massacre of long ago, loved it for its own sake.

He had ranged the border, a torch of fire, for years, and now he foresaw more of the revenge that he craved incessantly.
He led without hesitation straight toward the north.

All four were accomplished trailers and the flitting figures were soundless as they made their swift march through the forest.

In a half hour they reached the crest of a rather high hill and Black Rifle, stopping, pointed with a long forefinger toward a low and dim light.
"The camp of the Pennsylvanians," he said with bitter irony.

"As I told you, fearing lest the savages should miss 'em in the forest they keep their fire burning as a beacon." "Don't be too hard on 'em, Black Rifle," said Willet.