You hear to me--thar'll be hell to pay here soon." So while the braves were gathered about the trader and were draining cups of fire-water, the travelers made haste to mount and get around the village and back into their trail with the herd.

They traveled some miles in the long twilight and stopped at the Stony Brook Ford, where there were good water and sufficient grazing.
"Here's whar the ol' Green Mountain Trail comes down from the north an' crosses the one we're on," said Solomon.
They dismounted and Solomon hobbled a number of horses while Jack was building a fire.

The scout, returning from the wild meadow, began to examine some tracks he had found at the trail crossing.

Suddenly he gave a whistle of surprise and knelt on the ground.
"Look 'ere, Jack," he called.
The boy ran to his side.
"Now this 'ere is suthin' cur'user than the right hoof o' the devil," said Solomon Binkus, as he pointed with his forefinger at a print in the soft dirt.
Jack saw the print of the wooden stump with the iron ring around its base which the boy had not forgotten.

Near it were a number of moccasin tracks.
"What does this mean ?" he asked.
"Wall, sir, I cocalate it means that ol' Mike Harpe has been chased out o' the Ohio country an' has come down the big river an' into Lake Champlain with some o' his band an' gone to cuttin' up an' been obleeged to take to the bush.