"We'll discuss that at another time," said the officer, coldly. "You may go now," he added, turning to the boys. They withdrew and returned to the busy camp of soldiers who inquired how the "old man" had taken the affair. All expressed their pleasure at the way the boys had handled the arrogant young civilian. "Evidently," Tom said to Tim, "that fellow hasn't made himself popular with the men." "Nor would I, mesilf, already yet," replied Tim, "if it wasn't to our very bist interists." "Well, we'll have to make the best of it for awhile," returned Tom. "We'll do more good right here than anywhere else I can think of." The men had by this time finished their arrangements, and with some parting jokes and laughing remarks the ten selected men who were to take the back trail strung out the horses in line and leading and driving them at the same time were soon out of sight winding along the twisting log road. Only the sound of their shouts to the horses and the crashing in the underbrush could be heard and finally even that grew fainter and died away in the distance. The remainder of the company, some fifty-odd men and the officers, gathered up their burdens and arms, fell into place two by two and were soon strung out over a hundred yards of rough mountain trail. "We are after them in earnest, now," said Tom Dare, softly, "and no matter what happens, Tim, old man, don't let them find us out and don't let them ever get near enough to Dick and Fritz to capture them." "Thot's a foine little job for us two in this crowd," said Tim, "but we'll do our very best and it won't be our own fault at all, at all, if anything goes wrong." "Things are going to go right," concluded Tom, "I feel it in my bones." CHAPTER XII. THE NIGHT ATTACK. Long before the sun had cast its rays on the tree tops, the Indian encampment was astir. The sky was just beginning to grow grey with the coming dawn when the hasty morning meal had been finished and the fires stamped out. The Indians also had seen the camp fires of their enemies across the bay, and they took especial pains in the morning to keep their blazes small and hidden in the slight hollows. Silently the two white boys and their red companions stole to the water's edge, launched their birch canoes and paddled away from their temporary camp. A heavy mist hung over the water and they wished to be well along before the sun's warm rays dispelled the blanket that hid them. "It feels good to be able to paddle," said Dick. The party in Fritz's canoe was right along side of his and the boys were able to keep up a quiet conversation at the start. "Ve would by now be half to death frozen already," replied the Dutch boy, plying his paddle vigorously. "Let's put a little energy into our strokes," suggested Dick. "We'll try to get up in the lead and keep the pace up." "I am already pushing so fast as I can," replied Fritz.