If Brock's mind had expanded, so had his body. He was, as he expressed it, as "hard as nails." The close of 1811 found "Master Isaac" a grand specimen of manhood. Inclined to be a little portly, he was still athletic. His face, though a trifle stern, had grown more attractive, because of the benevolent look now stamped upon it. He was still fair and florid, with a broad forehead, and eyes though somewhat small, yet full and of a grayish blue, a charming smile and splendid white teeth. Always the same kindly gentleman and always a soldier. His life at Fort George had been one of great loneliness. He read much and rapidly, and would memorize passages from the books that had left the deepest impression. History, civil and military, especially ancient authors, was his choice, and maps his weakness. Over these, with his devoted aides, he would pore late into the night, until he knew the country almost as well as his friend the Surveyor-General. For variety he feasted upon the robust beauties of Pope's "Homer," ever regretting he never had a master "to guide and encourage him in his tastes." With Lieutenant-Governor Gore, formerly a soldier in Guernsey, our hero was on intimate terms. When the grind of duty let him, he would travel "the worst road in the country--fit only for an Indian mail-carrier--in order to mix in the society of York." He periodically returned these hospitalities by a grand ball at Niagara--always the event of the season. Brock, while fond of women's society, preferred brain to beauty. Had his old Guernsey friends been present on these occasions they would not have recognized in the soldier, resplendent in a general's uniform, now dancing a mazurka, the handsome stripling who only a few years since had waltzed his way into the hearts of all the women of St. Peter's Port. The unrest of the Indians at Amherstburg troubled him. He had seen over eight hundred in camp there, receiving rations for a month while waiting presents of blankets, powder and shot from King George. They asked British support if they took the warpath against the Americans--the Long-knives--_Gitchi-mokohmahn_, their sworn enemies. Tecumseh, a Shawanese chief, had demanded from the United States the restoration of violated rights. This demand had not been complied with. The position was critical. Great tact was required to retain the friendship of the Indians, while not complying with their request. In Lower Canada there was still discord among the French Canadians. The Governor, Sir James Craig, in a dying condition, relinquished office. In answer to Brock's application for leave, still hoping for a staff appointment in Portugal, the Governor-General implored him to remain. "I must," he told him, "leave the country in the best state of security I can; your presence is needed here. I am sending you as a mark of my sincere regard my favourite horse, Alfred." This was a high-bred animal, and our hero's charger in the war that followed.