And as the sun burst through a sea of gray-black clouds, and shone brilliantly just before night's coming, it seemed an omen of good to the little party in the wilderness, for at almost the same moment, Ree, running on a head a little way, cried: "Here we are!" Before the daylight closed, the site of the cabin, work on which was to begin the next day, had been selected on the long irregular mound close to the river, which has already been described. Ree called attention to the natural advantages of the place--its sides sloping down in three directions while on the fourth side and thirty feet below was the river. It was a point which could be defended in case of an attack, and the additional fact of the natural clearing and fertile lands surrounding it, made the place seem most desirable. "The's only one thing the matter with this location," said Tom Fish, surveying the mound from the semi-circular valley around it, as the twilight settled down. "The's likely to be ague in a place like this, it bein' so nigh the water. It's a mighty good thing to steer clear of, ague is." "But there are so many natural advantages," Ree persisted, "and our cabin will be well up in the air and the sunlight." "That's a good point, Ree," John put in, "but think of it--we will have to carry all our firewood up that hill." "I'll carry the wood if you play out, old chap," was the answer and the matter ended by Ree having his own way, as was generally the case, not because he was selfish or obstinate, but because he was sure he was right before he made up his mind, and because he had that born spirit of leadership which gave himself and all others confidence in his decisions and actions. Although careful observation during the day had failed to reveal any sign of their prowling foe, whoever he might be, Ree and John agreed to divide the guard duty of the night between them. Ree took the first watch and reported all quiet when John relieved him at midnight. When daylight came John went a little way up the wooded hillside opposite the mound to pick up some dry wood for their fire. Suddenly he stopped and a startled look came upon his face. There in the snow were foot-prints made by moccasined feet. They followed the trail the sled had made the day before, up to the very edge of the clearing in which their camp was made. There, John found, as he guardedly investigated, they circled off to one side a little way, hovered about, here and there, then re-crossed the sled's track and disappeared in the woods. What could it mean? Instantly he remembered that the foot-prints of the person who had several times fired upon their camp, had been made by boots. He hurried to the camp mentally ejaculating: "What will Tom Fish say of this?"