Summary

Portrait of Joseph A. Altsheler Joseph A. Altsheler The Keepers of the Trail: A Story of the Great Woods

Hidden death always lurked in the bush, and no man went beyond the palisade even on the commonest errand without his rifle.
It was a noble task that Henry and his comrades had undertaken, to act as watchers, and it appealed to them all, to him most because he was continually in the wilderness that he loved so well, and he felt that he was doing a much greater work than when he was felling trees, and helping to clear a place for crops. As for himself he would never have cut down a single tree, although there were millions and millions of them. Nature held nothing that he admired more.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Joseph A. Altsheler Joseph A. Altsheler The Keepers of the Trail: A Story of the Great Woods

Henry had heard a light footfall, and then the faint sound of voices. He drew himself to the edge of the covert and he did it with so much skill that not a leaf or a blade of grass rustled.
Lying flat on the ground, and, looking underneath the boughs of the trees and bushes, where only the trunks and stems were in the way, he saw the legs of four men, the upper parts of their bodies being completely hidden by the foliage. Henry knew, nevertheless, that they were three Indians and one white man. The white man was disclosed by his thicker legs and his toes which turned out.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Joseph A. Altsheler Joseph A. Altsheler The Keepers of the Trail: A Story of the Great Woods

If there was anything in heredity and reincarnation he was the greatest tracker and hunter in that old primeval world, where such skill ranked first among human qualities. As always with him, his will and courage rose with the danger. Crouched in the bush fifteen feet away he looked at the warrior, a powerful fellow, brawny in the chest but thin in the legs, as was usual among them. The Indian's eyes swept continuously in a half circle, but they did not see the great figure lying so near, and holding his life on the touch of a trigger.
Henry laughed deep in his throat.
Source: Gutenberg

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