But May, great, glorious May came on, with its inspiring airs and
livening influence. Canoes were afloat, the woods were brown
beneath and gold above.
Rolf felt like a young stag in his strength. He was spoiling for
a run and volunteered eagerly to carry despatches to Sackett's
Harbour. He would go alone, for now one blanket was sufficient
bed, and a couple of pounds of dry meat was enough food for each
day. A small hatchet would be useful, but his rifle seemed too
heavy to carry; as he halted in doubt, a junior officer offered
him a pistol instead, and he gladly stuck it in his belt.
Taller than ever, considerably over six feet now, somewhat lanky,
but supple of joint and square of shoulder, he strode with the
easy stride of a strong traveller. His colour was up, his
blue-gray eyes ablaze as he took the long trail in a crow line
across country for Sackett's Harbour. The sentry saluted, and the
officer of the day, struck by his figure and his glowing face as
much as by the nature of his errand, stopped to shake hands and
say, "Well, good luck, Kittering, and may you bring us better
news than the last two times.
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