The Black Wolf's Breed: A Story of France in the Old World and the New, Happening in the Reign of Louis XIV (Classic Reprint)

CHAPTER I
THE MASTER
I T was late one dear moonlight night in the spring of
17-, when three sjlent figures emerged from the
woodland darkness and struck aCross the wide extent of
rank grass which yet separated us from the bay. Tuskahoma
led the way I a tall grim Choctaw chieftain, my
companion on many a hunt, his streaming plumes fluttering
behind him as he strode. I followed, and after me,
Le Corbeau Rouge, a funner of the Choctaws. We
were returning to Biloxi from a reconnaissance in the
Chickasaw country.
Each straight bchlnd the other, dumb and soundless
shadows, we passed along the way, hardly bruising a
leaf or brushing the rustling reeds aside.
I 'See, there is the light," grunted Tuskahoma, pointjng
to a 'glimmer through the trees. rlYes, the ~lhite
Prophet never sleeps," assented Le Corbeau Rouge.
The light which marked our almost ended journey
came from a window in one of those Jow, square log
houses, fortress-dwellings, so common in the provinces.


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