The Lords of the Wild | Page 2

and resolved to remain
longer there by the stream. Settling himself into the bushes and tall
grass, until he was hidden from all but a trained gaze, he waited, body
and soul alike growing steadily in vigor.
The forest was in its finest colors. Spring had never brought to it a
more splendid robe, gorgeous and glowing, its green adorned with wild
flowers, and the bloom of bush and tree like a gigantic stretch of
tapestry. The great trunks of oak and elm and maple grew in endless

rows and overhead the foliage gleamed, a veil of emerald lace before
the sun.
Robert drank in the glory, eye and ear, but he never failed to watch the
thickets, and to listen for hostile sounds. He knew full well that his life
rested upon his vigilance and, often as he had been in danger in the
great northern woods, he valued too much these precious days of his
youth to risk their sudden end through any neglect of his own.
He looked now and then at the bird which still preened itself on a little
bough. When the shadows from the waving foliage fell upon its
feathers it showed a bright purple, but when the sunlight poured
through, it glowed a glossy blue. He did not know its name, but it was a
brave bird, a gay bird. Now and then it ceased its hopping back and
forth, raised its head and sent forth a deep, sweet, thrilling note,
amazing in volume to come from so small a body. Had he dared to
make a sound Robert would have whistled a bar or two in reply. The
bird was a friend to one alone and in need, and its dauntless melody
made his own heart beat higher. If a creature so tiny was not afraid in
the wilderness why should he be!
He had learned to take sharp notice of everything. On the border and in
such times, man was compelled to observe with eye and ear, with all
the five senses; and often too with a sixth sense, an intuition, an
outgrowth of the other five, developed by long habit and training,
which the best of the rangers possessed to a high degree, and in which
the lad was not lacking. He knew that the minutest trifle must not
escape his attention, or the forfeit might be his life.
While he relaxed his own care not at all, he felt that the bird was a wary
sentinel for him. He knew that if an enemy came in haste through the
undergrowth it would fly away before him. He had been warned in that
manner in another crisis and he had full faith now in the caution of the
valiant little singer. His trust, in truth, was so great that he rose from his
covert and bent down for a third drink of the clear cool water. Then he
stood up, his figure defiant, and took long, deep breaths, his heart now
beating smoothly and easily, as if it had been put to no painful test. Still
no sound of a foe, and he thought that perhaps the pursuit had died

down, but he knew enough of the warriors of the woods to make sure,
before he resumed a flight that would expose him in the open.
He crept back into the thicket, burying himself deep, and was careful
not to break a twig or brush a leaf which to the unerring eyes of those
who followed could mark where he was. Hidden well, but yet lying
where he could see, he turned his gaze back to the bird. It was now
pouring out an unbroken volume of song as it swayed on a twig, like a
leaf shaken in the wind. Its voice was thrillingly sweet, and it seemed
mad with joy, as its tiny throat swelled with the burden of its melody.
Robert, in the thicket, smiled, because he too shared in so much
gladness.
A faint sound out of the far west came to him. It was so slight that it
was hard to tell it from the whisper of the wind. It barely registered on
the drum of the ear, but when he listened again and with all his powers
he was sure that it was a new and foreign note. Then he separated it
from the breeze among the leaves, and it seemed to him to contain a
quality like that of the human voice. If so, it might be hostile, because
his friends, Willet, the hunter, and Tayoga, the Onondaga, were many
miles away. He had left them on the shore of the lake, called by the
whites, George, but more musically by the Indians, Andiatarocte, and
there was nothing in their plans that would now bring