It was not hard to follow, and it seemed to be making north for the Ohio.

Dawn came on him in a grassy bottom, beyond which lay low hills that he knew alone separated him from the great river.

Once in the Indian Moon of Blossom he had been thus far, and had gloried in the riches of the place, where a man walked knee deep in honeyed clover.

"The dark and bloody land!" He remembered how he had repeated the name to himself, and had concluded that Lovelle had been right and that it was none of the Almighty's giving.

Now in the sharp autumn morning he felt its justice.