XXI
A SCOUT OF THREE"We must scout the Doom Trail," I said as we carried the canoe through the water-gate and deposited it within the stockade. "I will write the governor at once of affairs at Jagara and La Vierge du Bois. But this last business makes it necessary he should have sure intelligence of what passes to Canada."
"Ja," agreed Corlaer slowly. "Budt I hafe another scheme we might try first—tonight."
"What?"
He surveyed the scores of dwindling canoes, their silvery birchen sides agleam in the sunlight, their dripping paddle-blades shining as the paddlers drove them along.
"They will make camp by sunset at der point of der three rocks. Am I right, Ta-wan-ne-ars?"
The Seneca assented.
"That is eight—ten—miles from here. Ja, we can make it."
"Make what?" I asked impatiently.
