the West,” said Uriah Risley. “I believe Lord Fairfax and others are behind the scheme.”

“To get ahead of the French?”

“Aye. I’d like to see the thing go through, too--’twould bring more faces to this district.”

“I cannot say that I object to the solitude, so long as the Indians do not molest us,” said Joseph Morris. “I love the woods and the lonely rivers--I have grown so used to them that they seem part of my life.”

Uriah Risley nodded to show he understood. “I believe you. But Catherine and I are used to having friends around. Why, the poor wife nearly cried her eyes out the first night we were here--nay, nay, do not deny it, for it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Caddy. She said the mountains and the tall, black-looking trees seemed to fairly press in on her.”

“And they do that--at times,” answered Joseph Morris. “I know the feeling. But it will pass away, Mistress Risley, and you will get to love the trees as you love the furniture of your house--and know them just as well.”

The supper was not a dainty affair, but the riders were hungry and ate long and heartily. After the meal Dave insisted upon helping Mrs. Risley get in the wood and water, while his uncle and the owner of the cabin sat by the doorstep smoking and talking.

The moon was rising over the distant trees when of a sudden Joseph Morris leaped up and reached for his rifle, which he had placed behind the kitchen door, “A deer--down at the end of the clearing, where the brook makes a turn!” he whispered. “If you don’t make a noise perhaps I can bring him down.”

“It’s a long shot,” returned Uriah Risley, who was no marksman at all, measured by the proficiency of the old pioneers. “I can scarcely see the animal.”

“I see him,” put in Dave. “There, he is turning up the brook!”

By this time Joseph Morris had his rifle and was examining the flint-lock. The weapon was in good condition for use, and he tiptoed his way out of the cabin, and crouching low, made for a stump standing fifty feet closer to the brook.

“Let us keep in the shadow,” whispered Dave, who wished to give his uncle all the advantage possible, and the Englishman, his wife, and the boy huddled up in the sheltered doorway. A silence of several minutes followed. Joseph Morris had gained the stump and was on his knees behind it, with his rifle 

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