A notable figure in relation to the scouts' outdoor life was Toiney Leduc, the French-Canadian farmhand. As time progressed he became an inseparable part of it. For Harold, the abnormally timid boy, for whom it was hoped that the new movement would do much, was inseparable from him: Harold would not come to scout meeting or march on hike without Toiney, although with his brother Owls and their scoutmaster he was already beginning to emerge from his shadowy fears like a beetle from the grub. In time he would no doubt fully realize what impotent bugaboos were his vague terrors, and would be reconciled to the world at large through the medium of the Owl Patrol. Already there was such an improvement in his health and spirits that his grandfather raised Toiney's wages on condition that he would consent to work all the year round on the little farm-clearing, and no longer spend his winters at some loggers' camp, tree-felling, in the woods. Moreover Old Man Greer, to whom the abnormal condition of his only grandson had been a sore trial, was willing and glad to spare Toiney's services as woodland guide to the boy scouts, including Harold, whenever they were required for a week-end excursion. And so much did those eight scouts learn from this primitive woodsman, who could not command enough English to say "Boo!" straight, according to Leon, but who understood the language and track-prints of bird and animal as if they the shy ones had taught him, that by general petition of all members of the new patrol, Toiney was elected assistant scoutmaster, and duly received his emblazoned certificate from headquarters. His presence and songs lent a primitive charm to many a camp-fire gathering; no normal boy could feel temporarily dull in his company, for Toiney, besides being an expert in woodlore and a good trailer, was essentially a _bon enfant_, or jolly child, at heart, meeting every experience with the blithe faith that, somehow--somewhere--he would come out on top. In the woods his songs were generally inaudible, locked up in his heart or throat, though occasionally they escaped to his lips which would move silently in a preliminary canter, then part to emit a gay bar or two, a joyous "Tra la la ... la!" or:-- "Rond', Rond', Rond', peti' pie pon' ton'!" But on these occasions the strain rarely soared above a whisper and was promptly suspended lest it should startle any wild thing within hearing, while he led his boy scouts through the denser woods with the skill and stealth of the Indian whose wary blood mingled very slightly with the current in his veins.