"There it is!" he cried. "Yonder are the scouts.
"You know the place then?" said Sir George.
"Yes, I've often been here. Mr. Mackenzie has one of the finest lumber camps in Nova Scotia. See, he is out now talking to Sergeant Banks."
"A thrifty Scotchman, eh! I hope Banks has managed it. I would like the whole troop to dine at the camp without touching our rations. You can settle with Mr. Mackenzie afterwards," he concluded, turning to Captain Payne.
"It will be a great relief," returned the latter, "and give us a longer march this afternoon. Nothing like making a good start on the first day."
The sergeant saluted as they drove up.
"Mr. Mackenzie, this is our Colonel," he said, touching his cap.
And a tall, massively built Scotchman, with shaggy hair and rugged features, grasped Sir George's hand warmly.
"Your men have been telling me about you, sir," he exclaimed. "I am glad to see you. You must a' be hungry after your cold ride. The cook's doin' his best to gie ye all a bite. Come right in. Your men can feed the horses at the stable. Guid sakes, you've got a leddy with ye! and some women folk, too!" and he finished by doffing his hat gallantly to Helen.
"Yes, we are hungry and glad to call a halt, Mr. Mackenzie, and I know Mrs. Manning will be tired enough to rest."