open glades where we quickened our pace to a run, dense woods, snares of leafless vines, swamp and thicket through which we toiled so slowly that the heart bled at the delay, streams and fallen trees, — on and on we hurried, until the sun sank and the dusk came creeping in upon us.

“We’ve dined with Duke Humphrey to-day,” said Diccon at last; “but if we can keep this pace, and don’t meet any more war parties, or fall foul of an Indian village, or have to fight the wolves to-night, we’ll dine with the Governor to-morrow. What’s that?”

“That” was the report of a musket, and a spent ball had struck me above the knee, bruising the flesh beneath the leather of my boot.

We wheeled, and looked in