"But what if I tell you that Robert Lennox is not dead, that he survived a most nefarious plot against him, that he was, in truth, kidnapped and carried far away to sea, but was rescued in a most remarkable manner and has come back to his own land."

"'Tis impossible! 'Tis a wild tale, though God knows I wish it were true, because he was a fine and gallant lad."

"'Tis a wild tale, sir, that I confess, but 'tis not impossible, for it has happened. I am that Robert Lennox who came with Tayoga, the Onondaga, in the canoe, through the fog on Lake George, to you, asking that you hurry to the relief of the boat builders! You will remember, sir, the fight at the ford, when they sought to ambush us, and how we routed them with the cannon. You'll recall how St. Luc drew off when we reached the boat builders. I've been away a long time, where every month counted as a year, and perhaps I've changed greatly, but I'm that same Robert Lennox to whom you said more than once that if the Governor and Legislature of the Province of Massachusetts had done their full duty your force would have been three or four times as strong."

"What? What? No stranger could know as much as you know! Come farther into the light, boy! The voice is nearly the same as I remember it, but the face has changed. You're older, graver, and there's a new look! But the eyes are like his! On my soul I believe it's Robert Lennox! Aye, I know 'tis Robert! Come, lad, and shake hands with me! I would go to you but this wretched wound holds me in my chair! Aye, boy, yours is the grasp of a strong and honest hand, and when I look into your eyes I know 'tis you, Robert, your very self. Sit you down and tell me how you have risen from the grave, and why you've come to comfort an old man with this most sudden and welcome news!"

The moisture rose in Robert's eyes. Truly he had friends, and not least among them was this thin, shrewd Bostonian. He drew a chair close to the colonel and spun the wonderful tale of his kidnapping, the sea fight, the wreck, the island and his rescue by the Hawk. Colonel Strong listened intently and seldom interrupted, but when Robert had finished he said:

"'Tis clear, lad, that your belief in the good spirits was well placed. We lose nothing by borrowing a little from the Iroquois beliefs. Their good spirits are our angels. 'Tis all the same in the essence, only the names are different. 'Tis clear, too, that they were watching over you. And now this house is your home so long as you stay in Boston. We're full of the great war, as you'll soon learn. Mr. Pitt has sent over a new commander and a mighty attempt will be made on Quebec, though if the King and Parliament of Britain did their full duty, the expedition would be three times as large, and, if the Legislature and Governor of Massachusetts also did their full duty, they would give three times as much help."

"I'll stay gladly with you to-night, sir, but I must go in the morning. I wish to reach Albany as soon as possible and show that I'm not dead. You're the first, sir, of all my friends, to learn it. I must tell my comrades of the Hawk good-bye too. They've been very good to me, and their ship is in your harbor."

"But you spend the night here. That's promised, and I can give you news of some of your friends, those gallant lads who were with us in the great adventure by the lake. The young Englishman, Grosvenor, the Philadelphians, Colden, Wilton and Carson, and the Virginians, Stuart and Cabell, have all been to see me. Grosvenor joins a regiment with Wolfe, the Grenadiers, I think, and the Philadelphians and Virginians are transferred to the Royal Americans, for the term of the war, at least."

"I hope to see them all, sir, under the walls of Quebec. Captain Whyte of the Hawk offered to take me in his ship to the rendezvous at Louisbourg, but I felt that I must go first to Albany and then join Willet and Tayoga. We'll go by land and meet the army and fleet coming down the St. Lawrence."

"A proper plan, and a proper ambition, my lad. I would that I could be with you, but this wound may hold me here. As for going to Albany, I may assist you in that matter. A company of Boston merchants are sending a despatch, that is, a stage, to Albany to-morrow. I am one of that company and I can provide a place for you."

"My very great thanks are yours, sir."

"Say no more about it. 'Tis just what I ought to do. 'Tis a long journey, but 'tis a fine time of the year, and you'll have a pleasant trip. Would that I had your youth and your unwounded leg and I'd be with you under the walls of Quebec, whether we take the city or not."

His eyes sparkled and his thin cheeks flushed with his intense fire. Robert knew that there was no more valiant soldier than the shrewd Boston merchant, and he appreciated his intense earnestness.

"Perhaps, sir," he said, "your recovery will be in full time for the campaign."

"I fear not, I'm sure not, Mr. Lennox, and yet I wish with all my soul to be there. I foresee victory, because I think victory is due. 'Tis not in nature for the French in Canada, who are few and who receive but little help from their own country, to hold back forever the whole might of Britain and her colonies. They have achieved the impossible already in stemming the flood so long, and because it's about time for the weight, in spite of everything, to break over the dam, I think that victory is at hand. And then, Britain will be supreme on the North American continent from the Spanish domains northward to the Pole."

"And that means a tremendous future, sir, for England and her colonies!"

The face of Elihu Strong clouded.

"I do not know," he cried. "I hope so, and yet, at times, I fear not. You think only of united hearts in England and America and a long future under one flag. I repeat that I wish it could be so and yet the old always regard the new with patronage, and the new always look upon the old with resentment. There are already differences between the English and Americans, questions of army rank, disputes about credit in the field, different points of view, created by the width of an ocean."

"But if we are victorious and overrun Canada, they will be settled."

"There lies the greatest danger, my lad. 'Tis the common peril that holds us together for the time. When this shadow in the north which has overhung us so long, is removed, the differences will grow the greater, and each side will assert itself. 'Tis in our common blood. The English are a free people and freedom brings diversities, differing opinions and a strenuous expression of them. I see already great issues between the colonies and the mother country, and I pray that temperate men may have the handling of them. The wrong will not be all on one side, nor the right either. But enough of an old man's forebodings! Why should I poison your happy return from an adventure, in which your chance of escape was not one in ten?"

Robert talked with him a while longer, and then he suggested that he go to the Hawk and tell his friends there good-bye, as they had probably returned to the ship by this time.

"But be sure you're back here by nightfall," said Colonel Strong. "You favor me, lad, by coming. It refreshes me to see you and to talk with one who had a share with me in an eventful campaign. And have you money enough for this trip to Albany? I take it that you were not accumulating much treasure while you were on the island, and a loan may be timely."

Robert thanked him, but said he had enough for his needs. He promised also to be back by nightfall, and, having said farewell to the officers of the sloop, he returned to Colonel Strong's mansion at the appointed time.



CHAPTER XII

THE WILDERNESS AGAIN

The full hospitality of Colonel Strong's house was for Robert, and he sat late that night, listening to the talk of his host, merchant and warrior, and politician too. There were many like him in the colonies, keen men who had a vision for world affairs and who looked far into the future. He was so engrossed in these matters that he did not notice that he was doing nearly all the talking, but Robert was content to listen.

As Robert sat with Colonel Strong he felt to the full the reality of his own world to which he had returned, and his long life on the island became for the time a dream, something detached, that might have happened on another planet. Yet its effects remained. His manner was grave, and his thoughts were those of one much beyond his years. But mingled with his gravity were an elation and a sanguine belief in his future. He had survived so much that coming dangers could not daunt him.

The special coach departed the next morning and Robert sat upon the seat with the driver. All things were auspicious. The company in the coach was good, the driver was genial and the weather fine. It was a long trip and they slept several nights in inns by the way, but Robert always had pleasant memories of that journey. He was seeing his country under the most favorable conditions, well cultivated, trim and in the full freshness of spring.

They reached Albany and his heart beat hard once more. He realized now that he was one risen from the dead. His reception by Colonel Strong had shown him that, but he believed the joy of his friends would be great when they saw him. The coach drew up at the George Inn, and, leaving it there, he started through the streets, taking no baggage.

It was the same busy little city with its thrifty Dutch burghers. The tide of war had brought added prosperity to Albany, and he saw about him all the old signs of military preparations. It was yet a base for the great campaigns to the northward. Evidently the fear of an attack by Montcalm had passed, as he did not see apprehension or depression in the faces of the people.

He went directly to the house of Master Jacobus Huysman, that staunch friend of his and Tayoga's, and the solid red brick building with its trim lawns and gardens looked as neat and comfortable as ever. It was hard to believe that he had gone away, that he had been so long on an island. Nothing had been changed except himself and he felt different, much older.

He lifted the heavy brass knocker, and struck thrice. The sound of footsteps came from within, and he knew at once that they were Caterina's. Middle-aged, phlegmatic and solid she had loved both him and Tayoga, despite tricks and teasing, but he knew her very phlegm would keep her from being startled too much. Only an earthquake could shake the poise of Caterina.

The door swung slowly open. The nature of Caterina was cautious and she never opened a door quickly.

"Good-morning, Caterina," said Robert. "Is Master Jacobus in? I stayed away a bit longer than I intended, and I wish to make my apologies to him, if I've caused him any inconvenience."

The mouth of Caterina, a wide cleft, opened full as slowly as the door and full as steadily, and her eyes seemed to swell at the same time. But she did not utter a word. Words might be forming in her throat, though they were not able to pass her lips. But Robert saw amazement and joy in her eyes. She knew him. That was evident. It was equally evident that she had been struck dumb, so he grasped her large and muscular hand and said:

"I've come back, Caterina, a trifle late 'tis true, but as you see I'm here. It's not my fault that I've been delayed a little. I hope that Master Jacobus is well. I know he's in his study as the odor of his pipe comes floating to me, a pleasant odor too, Caterina; I've missed it."

"Aye! Aye!" said Caterina. It was all she could manage to say, but suddenly she seized his hand, and fell to kissing it.

"Don't do that, Caterina!" exclaimed Robert, pulling his hand away. "You're glad to see me and I'm glad to see you. I'm no ghost. I'm solid and substantial, at least ten pounds heavier than I was when I went away suddenly at the invitation of others. And now, Caterina, since you've lost your voice I'll go in and have a talk with Master Jacobus."

Caterina's mouth and eyes were still opening wider and wider, but as Robert gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder she managed to gasp:

"You haf come back! you wass dead, but you wouldn't stay dead."

"Yes, that's it, Caterina, I wouldn't stay dead, or rather I was lost, but I wouldn't stay lost. I'll go in now and see Master Jacobus."

He walked past her toward the odor of the pipe that came from the study and library of Mr. Huysman, and Caterina stood by the door, still staring at him, her mouth opening wider and wider. No such extraordinary thing had ever happened before in the life of Caterina, and yet it was a happy marvel, one that filled her with gratitude.

The door of Mr. Huysman's room was open and Robert saw him very clearly before he entered, seated in a great chair of mahogany and hair cloth, smoking his long hooked pipe and looking thoughtfully now and then at some closely written sheets of foolscap that he held in his hand. He was a solid man of the most solid Dutch ancestry, solid physically and mentally, and he looked it. Nothing could shake his calm soul, and it was a waste of time to try to break anything to him gently. Good news or bad news, it was well to be out with it, and Robert knew it. So he stepped into the room, sat down in a chair near that of Mr. Huysman and said:

"I hope, sir, that I've not caused you any inconvenience. I didn't mean to keep you waiting so long."

Master Jacobus turned and regarded him thoughtfully. Then he took one long puff at his pipe, removed it from his mouth, and blew the smoke in spirals towards the ceiling.

"Robert," he said, after an inspection of a full minute, "why were you in such a hurry about coming back? Are you sure you did everything you should before you came? You wass sometimes a hasty lad."

"I can't recall, sir, anything that I've neglected. Also, I wiped my shoes on the porch and I shut the door when I came in, as Caterina used to bid me do."

"It iss well. It shows that you are learning at last. Caterina and I haf had much trouble teaching manners to you and that young Onondaga scamp, Tayoga."

"As we grow older, sir, we have more desire to learn. We're better able to perceive the value of good advice."

Master Jacobus Huysman put the stem of his long pipe back in his mouth, took the very longest draught upon it that he had ever drawn, removed it again, sent the smoke rushing in another beautiful spear of spirals toward the ceiling, and, then, for the first and last time in his life, he lost all control over himself. Springing to his feet he seized Robert by both hands and nearly wrung them off.

"Robert, my lost lad!" he exclaimed. "It iss you! it iss really you! I knew that you wass dead, and, yet when you walked into the room, I knew that it wass you alive! Your face iss changed! your look iss changed! your manner iss changed! you are older, but I would have known you anywhere and at the first glance! You do not understand how much you took out of my life when you went, and you do not know how much you have brought back when you come again! I do not ask why you left or where you have been, you can tell it all when you are ready! It iss enough that you are here!"

Tears rose in Robert's eyes and he was not ashamed of them. He knew that his welcome would be warm, but it had been even warmer than he had expected.

"I did not go away of my own accord, sir," he said. "I could not have been so heartless as that. I've a wonderful tale to tell, and, as soon as you give me all the news about my friends, I'll tell it."

"Take your time, Robert, take your time. Maybe you are hungry. The kitchen iss full of good things. Let me call Caterina, and she will bring you food."

The invitation of the good Mynheer Jacobus, a very natural thought with him, eased the tension. Robert laughed.

"I thank you, sir," he said, "but I cannot eat now. Later I'll show you that I haven't lost my ability at the trencher, but I'd like to hear now about Tayoga and Dave."

"They're gone into the northern forests to take part in the great expedition that's now arranging against Quebec. We hunted long, but we could discover no trace of you, not a sign, and then there was no conclusion left but the river. You had been murdered and thrown into the Hudson. Your body could not disappear in any other way, and we wass sure it must have been the spy Garay who did the foul deed. Only Tayoga kept any hope. He said that you wass watched over by Manitou and by his own patron saint, Tododaho, and though you might be gone long, Manitou and Tododaho would bring you back again. But we thought it wass only a way he had of trying to console himself for the loss of his friend. Willet had no hope. I wass sorry, sorry in my soul for David. He loved you as a son, Robert, and the blow wass one from which he could never have recovered. When all hope wass gone he and Tayoga plunged into the forest, partly I think to forget, and I suppose they have been risking the hair on their heads every day in battle with the French and Indians."

"It is certain that they won't shirk any combat," said Robert. "Valiant and true! No one was ever more valiant and true than they are!"

"It iss so, and there wass another who took it hard, very hard. I speak of Benjamin Hardy of New York. I wrote him the letter telling him all that we knew, and I had a reply full of grief. He took it as hard as Willet."

"It was almost worth it to be lost a while to discover what good and powerful friends I have."

"You have them! You have them! And now I think, Robert, that the time draws nigh for you to know who you are. No, not now! You must wait yet a little longer. Believe me, Robert, it iss for good reasons."

"I know it, Mr. Huysman! I know it must be so! But I know also there is one who will not rejoice because I've come back! I mean Adrian Van Zoon!"

"Why, Robert, what do you know of Adrian Van Zoon?"

"I was told by a dying man to beware of him, and I've always heard that dying men speak the truth. And this was a dying man who was in a position to know. I'm sure his advice was meant well and was based on knowledge. I think, Mr. Huysman, that I shall have a large score to settle with Adrian Van Zoon."

"Well, maybe you have. But tell me, lad, how you were lost and how you came back."

So, Robert told the long story again, as he had told it to Elihu Strong, though he knew that he was telling it now to one who took a deeper and more personal interest in him than Colonel Strong, good friend though the latter was. Jacobus Huysman had settled back into his usual calm, smoking his long pipe, and interrupting at rare intervals with a short question or two.

"It iss a wonderful story," he said, when Robert finished, "and I can see that your time on the island wass not wholly lost. You gained something there, Robert, my lad. I cannot tell just what it iss, but I can see it in you."

"I feel that way myself, sir."

"No time iss ever lost by the right kind of a man. We can put every hour to some profit, even if it iss not the kind of profit we first intended. But I will not preach to one who hass just risen from the dead. Are you sure, Robert, you will not have a dinner now? We have some splendid fish and venison and sausage and beef! Just a plate of each! It will do you good!"

Robert declined again, but his heart was very full. He knew that Master Jacobus felt deep emotion, despite his calmness of manner, and this was a way he had of giving welcome. To offer food and to offer it often was one of the highest tributes he could pay.

"I could wish," he said, "that you would go to New York and stay with Benjamin Hardy, but as you will not do it, I will not ask it. I know that nothing on earth can keep you from going into the woods and joining Willet and Tayoga, and so I will help you to find them. Robert Rogers, the ranger leader, will be here to-morrow, and he starts the next day into the north with a force of his. He can find Willet and Tayoga, and you can go with him."

"Nothing could be better, sir. I know him well. We've fought side by side in the forest. Is he going to lead his rangers against Quebec?"

"I do not know. Maybe so, and maybe he will have some other duty, but in any event he goes up by the lakes, and you're pretty sure to find Tayoga and Willet in that direction. I know that you will go, Robert, but I wish you would stay."

"I must go, and if you'll pardon me for saying it, sir, you won't wish in your heart that I would stay. You'd be ashamed of me, if I were to do so."

Mr. Huysman made no answer, but puffed a little harder on his pipe. Very soon he sent for Master Alexander McLean, and that thin dry man, coming at once, shook hands with Robert, released his hand, seized and shook it a second and a third time with more energy than ever. Mr. McLean, an undemonstrative man, had never been known to do such a thing before, and he was never known to do it again. Master Jacobus regarded him with staring eyes.

"Alexander iss stirred! He iss stirred mightily to make such a display of emotion," he said under his breath.

"Robert hass been away on an island all by himself, eight or nine months or more," he added, aloud.

"And of course," said Master McLean, who had recovered his usual calm, "he forgot all his classical learning while he was there. I do not know where his island is, but desert islands are not conducive to a noble education."

"On the contrary, sir," said Robert, "I learned more about good literature when I was there than I ever did anywhere else, save when I sat under you."

"'Tis clearly impossible. In such a place you could make no advancement in learning save by communing with yourself."

"Nevertheless, sir, happy chance gave me a supply of splendid books. I had Shakespeare, Marlowe, Beaumont and Fletcher, translations of Homer and of other great Greeks and Latins."

Mr. McLean's frosty eyes beamed.

"What a wonderful opportunity!" he said. "Eight or nine months on a desert island with the best of the classics, and nobody to disturb you! No such chance will ever come to me, I fear. Which book of the Iliad is the finest, Robert?"

"The first, I think. 'Tis the noble opening, the solemn note of tragedy that enchains the attention of us all."

"Well answered. But I wish to make a confession to you and Jacobus, one that would shock nearly all scholars, yet I think that I must speak it out, to you two at least, before I die. There are times when my heart warms to the Odyssey more than it does to the Iliad. The personal appeal is stronger in the Odyssey. There is more romance, more charm. The interest is concentrated in Ulysses and does not scatter as it does in the Iliad, where Hector is undoubtedly the most sympathetic figure. And the coming home of Ulysses arouses emotion more than anything in the Iliad. Now, I have made my confession—I suppose there is something in the life of every man that he ought to hide—but be the consequences what they may I am glad I have made it."

Mr. McLean rose from his chair and then sat down again. Twice that day he had been shaken by emotion as never before, once by the return of the lad whom he loved, risen from the dead, and once by the confession of a terrible secret that had haunted him for years.

"When I was on the island I reread both books in excellent translations," said Robert, the utmost sympathy showing in his voice, "and I confess, sir, though my opinion is a poor one, that it agrees with yours. Moreover, sir, you have said it ahead of me. I shall maintain it, whenever and wherever it is challenged."

Mr. McLean's frosty blue eyes gleamed again, and his sharp strong chin set itself at a firm defiant angle. It was clear that he was relieved greatly.

"Have a pipe, Alexander," said Master Jacobus. "A good pipe is a splendid fortifier of both body and soul, after a great crisis."

Mr. McLean accepted a pipe and smoked it with methodical calm. Robert saw that a great content was settling upon both him and Mr. Huysman, and, presently, the burgher began to tell him news of vital importance, news that they had not known even in Boston when he left. It seemed that the Albany men had channels through Canada itself, by which they learned quickly of great events in the enemy's camp.

"Wolfe with his fleet and army will be in the Gulf of St. Lawrence very soon," said Master Jacobus, "and by autumn they will certainly appear before Quebec. Whatever happens there it will not be another Duquesne, nor yet a Ticonderoga. You must know, Robert, that the great merchants of the great ports get the best of information from England and from France too, because it is to their interest to do so. Mr. Pitt iss a great minister, the greatest that England hass had in centuries, a very great man."

"Colonel Strong said the same, sir."

"Colonel Strong hass the same information that we have. He iss one of our group. And the new general, Wolfe, iss a great man too. Young and sickly though he may be, he hass the fire, the genius, the will to conquer, to overcome everything that a successful general must have. I feel sure that he will be more than a match for Montcalm, and so does Alexander. As you know, Robert, Wolfe iss not untried. He was the soul of the Louisbourg attack last year. People said the taking of the place was due mostly to him, and they've called him the 'Hero of Louisbourg.'"

"You almost make me wish, sir, that I had accepted the offer of Captain Whyte and had gone on to Louisbourg."

"Do not worry yourself. If you find Willet and Tayoga, as you will, you can reach Quebec long before Wolfe can achieve much. He hass yet to gather his forces and go up the St. Lawrence. Armies and fleets are not moved in a day."

"Do you know what Rogers' immediate duties are?"

"I do not, but I think he iss to help the movement that General Amherst is going to conduct with a strong force against Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Oh, Mr. Pitt hass a great plan as becomes a great man, and Canada will be assailed on all sides. I hear talk too that Rogers will also be sent to punish the St. Francis Indians who have ravaged the border."

They talked a while longer, and Robert listened, intent, eager. The burgher and the schoolmaster had the vision of statesmen. They were confident that England and the colonies would achieve complete success, that all defeats and humiliations would be wiped away by an overwhelming triumph. Their confidence in Pitt was wonderful. That sanguine and mighty mind had sent waves of energy and enthusiasm to the farthest limits of the British body politic, whether on one side of the Atlantic or the other, and it was a singular, but true, fact, that the wisest were those who believed in him most.

Mr. McLean went away, after a while, and Robert took a walk in the town, renewing old acquaintances and showing to them how one could really rise from the dead, a very pleasant task. Yet he longed with all his soul for the forest, and his comrades of the trail. His condition of life on the island had been mostly mental. It had been easy there to subsist. His physical activities had not been great, save when he chose to make them so, and now he swung to the other extreme. He wished to think less and to act more, and he shared with Mr. Huysman and Mr. McLean the belief that the coming campaign would win for England and her colonies a complete triumph.

He too thrilled at the name of Pitt. The very sound of the four letters seemed to carry magic everywhere, with the young English officers on the ship, in Boston, in Albany, and he had noticed too that it inspired the same confidence at the little towns at which they stopped on their way across Massachusetts. Like a blast on the horn of the mighty Roland, the call of Pitt was summoning the English-speaking world to arms. Robert little dreamed then, despite the words of Colonel Strong, that the great cleavage would come, and that the call would not be repeated until more than a century and a half had passed, though then it would sound around the world summoning new English-speaking nations not then born.

Rogers, the famous ranger, upon whom Tayoga had bestowed the name Mountain Wolf, arrived the next day, bringing with him fifty men whom he supplied with ammunition for one of his great raids. The rest of his band was waiting for him near the southern end of Lake George, and he could stay only a few hours in Albany. He gave Robert a warm welcome.

"I remember you well, Mr. Lennox," he said. "We've had some hard fighting together around Lake George against St. Luc, Tandakora and the others, but I think the battle line will shift far northward now. Amherst is going to swoop down on Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and Sir William Johnson, well of his wound, is to march against Niagara. I'll punish the St. Regis Indians for all their barbarities. Oh, it's to be a great campaign, and I'll tell you a secret too."

"What is it?" asked Robert.

"We're to have St. Luc against us near the lakes once more. Could you ask for a better antagonist?"

Robert smiled at the man's eagerness, but his heart throbbed, as always, at the mention of the great French chevalier's name.

"He'll give us all we can do," he said.

"That's why I want to meet him," said Rogers. "The whole northern frontier is going to be ablaze."

Robert left that very day with Rogers and his men. Mr. Huysman purchased for him a splendid equipment which he forced him to accept, and he and Mr. McLean bade him good-by, while Caterina wept in her apron.

"Don't fear for me," said Robert, who was much moved. "Mr. Pitt will bring us all victory. His first efforts failed at Ticonderoga, as we know, but now he has all his forces moving on all fronts, and he's bound to succeed. You've said that yourselves."

"So we have, Robert," said Mr. Huysman, "and we shall watch for your return, confident that you'll come."

The next day the rangers, Robert with them, were far to the north of Albany, and then they plunged into the deep woods. Robert rejoiced at the breath of the forest now in its freshest green, not yet faded by summer heats. He had grown to love his island, but it was not like the mighty wilderness of North America, in which he had spent so much of his life. He kept at the head of the column, side by side with the Mountain Wolf, and his step was so strong and elastic that Rogers took approving notice.

"You like the woods, Robert," he said. "Well, so do I. It's the only place where a man can live a free life."

"I like the woods and the towns too," said Robert. "Each in its place. Where do we camp to-night?"

"By a little lake, a few miles farther on, and as we're not yet in the Indian country we'll make it a fire camp."

The lake covered only two or three acres, but it was set in high hills, and it was as clear as crystal. A great fire was built near the shore, two or three of the rangers caught plenty of fish for all, and they were broiled over the coals. Game had become so plentiful, owing to the ravages of the war, that a fat deer was shot near the water, and, when they added coffee and samp from their own stores, they had a feast.

Robert ate with a tremendous appetite, and then, wrapping himself in his blanket, lay down under a tree. But he did not go to sleep for a long time. He was full of excitement. All the omens and signs told him that he was coming into the thick of events once more, and he felt also that he would soon see Willet and Tayoga again. He would encounter many perils, but for the present at least he did not fear them. Much of his vivid youth was returning to him.

He saw the surface of the lake from where he lay, a beautiful silver in the clear moonlight, and he could even perceive wild fowl swimming at the far edge, unfrightened by the presence of man, or by the fires that he built. The skies were a great silver curve, in which floated a magnificent moon and noble stars in myriads. There was the one on which Tayoga's Tododaho lived, and so powerful was Robert's fancy that he believed he could see the great Onondaga sage with the wise snakes in his hair. And there too was the star upon which Hayowentha lived and the Onondaga and the Mohawk undoubtedly talked across space as they looked down on their people.

Out of the forest came the calls of night birds, and Robert saw one shoot down upon the lake and then rise with a fish in its talons. He almost expected to see the dusky figure of Tandakora creep from the bush, and he knew at least that the Ojibway chief would be somewhere near the lakes. Beyond a doubt they would encounter him and his warriors as they pressed into the north. Rogers, noticing that he was not asleep, sat down beside him and said:

"I suppose, Mr. Lennox, when you find Tayoga and Willet that you'll go with Amherst's army against Ticonderoga and Crown Point. A great force has gathered to take those places."

"I'm not sure," said Robert, "I think it depends largely upon what Tayoga and Dave have planned, but I want to go against Quebec, and I think they will too. Still, I'd like to see our defeat at Ticonderoga atoned for. It's a place that we ought to have, and Crown Point too."

"A scout that I sent out has come in," said Rogers, "and he says he's seen an Indian trail, not big enough to be of any danger to us, but it shows we'll have 'em to deal with before long, though this is south of their usual range. I hear an owl hooting now, and if I didn't know it was a real owl I could think it was Tandakora himself."

"I hear it too," said Robert, "and I'm not so sure that it's a real owl. Do you think that any band will try to cut us off before we reach Amherst and the lake?"

"I can't say, but my faith in the owl, Robert, is beginning to shake too. It may be an Indian belonging to the band that the scout told about, but I still don't think we're in any danger of attack. We're in too small force to try it down here, but they might cut off a straggler."

"I'd like to help keep the watch."

"We won't need you to-night, but I may call on you to-morrow night, so it's my advice to you to sleep now."

The Mountain Wolf walked away to look at his outposts—he was not one ever to neglect any precaution—and Robert, knowing that his advice was good, closed his eyes, trying to sleep. But his hearing then became more acute, and the long, lonesome note of the owl came with startling dreams. Its cry was in the west, and after a while another owl in the north answered it. Robert wished that Tayoga was with him. He would know, but as for himself he could not tell whether or no the owls were real. They might be Indians, and if so they would probably, when they gathered sufficient force, throw themselves across the path of the rangers and offer battle. This presence too indicated that Tayoga and Willet might be near, because it was against just such bands that they guarded, and once more his heart beat fast.

He opened his eyes to find that the beauty of the night had deepened, if that were possible. The little lake was molten silver, and the forest seemed silver too under silver skies. The moon, large and benignant, smiled down on the earth, not meant, so Robert thought, for battle. But the two owls were still calling to each other, and now he was convinced that they were Indians and not owls. He was really back in the wilderness, where there was no such thing as peace, the wilderness that had seldom ever known peace. But believing with Rogers that the force was too strong to be attacked he fell asleep, at last, and awoke to another bright summer day.

They resumed the advance with great caution. Rogers did not go directly toward the force of Amherst, but bore more toward the west, thinking it likely that he would have to meet the force of Sir William Johnson who was to cooeperate with Prideaux in the attack on Niagara.

"Sir William has entirely recovered from the wound he received at the Battle of Lake George," Rogers said to Robert, "and he's again taking a big part in the war. We have Louisbourg and Duquesne, and now, if we take Niagara and Ticonderoga and Crown Point, we can advance in great force on Quebec and Montreal."

"So we can," said Robert, "but there are those owls again, hooting in the daytime, and I'm quite sure now they're Indians."

"I think so too, and it begins to look as if they meant an attack. Every mile here brings us rapidly nearer to dangerous country. I'll send out two more scouts."

Two of his best men were dispatched, one on either flank, but both came in very soon with reports of imminent danger. Trails were seen, and they had grown in size. One found the trace of a gigantic moccasin, and it was believed to be that of Tandakora. Many scouts knew his footstep. There was no other so large in the north. Rogers' face was grave.

"I think they're going to try to cut us off before we reach the bigger part of my force," he said. "If so, we'll give 'em a fight. You'll be in the thick of it much earlier than you expected, Robert."

Robert also was inclined to that opinion, but he was still confident they could not be menaced by any very large party, and he remained in that belief the next night, when they made their camp on a little hill, covered with bushes, but with open country on every side, an excellent site for defense. They ate another plentiful supper, then put out their fire, posted sentinels and waited.

Robert was among the sentinels, and Rogers, who had made him second in command until he was reunited with his main force, stood by him in the first hour while they waited. There was again a splendid moon and plenty of fine stars, shedding a brilliant glow over the forest, and they believed they could see any enemy who tried to approach, especially as the hill was surrounded on all sides by a stretch of open.

"It's a good place for a camp," said the Mountain Wolf, looking around with approval. "I believe they'll scarce venture to attack us here."

"But there are the owls," said Robert. "They're at least thinking about it."

The long mournful cry came from the depths of the forest, and then it was repeated a second and a third time at other points.

"The owls that send forth those calls," said Robert, "don't sit on the boughs of trees."

"No," said Rogers; "it's the warriors, not a doubt of it, and they'll be stealing in on us before long."

But several hours passed before there was any stir in the forest beyond the open. Then a rifle cracked there, but no one heard the impact of the bullet. Rogers laughed scornfully.

"Their lead fell short," he said. "How could they expect to hit any of us at such a range, and they not the best of marksmen even in the daylight. They can't hope to do any more than to keep us awake."

The rangers made no reply to the shot, they would not deign it with such notice, but the guard was doubled, while the others remained in their blankets. A half hour more passed, and a second shot came, but from a point much nearer.

"They're trying to steal forward through the grass that grows tall down there," said Rogers. "They're more bent on battle than I thought they'd be. It seems that they mean to stalk us, so we'll just stalk 'em back."

Four of the rangers, fine sharpshooters, edged their way along the slope, and, when the warriors among the trees fired, pulled trigger by the flash of their rifles. It was difficult to hit any one in such a manner, and more than twenty shots were fired by the two sides, before a death shout was uttered. Then it came from the forest, and Robert knew that one warrior was gone. He was taking no present part in the battle himself, held like the bulk of the force in reserve, but he was an intent observer. Rogers, the daring leader of the rangers, still standing by his side, took it all as a part of his daily work, which in truth it was.

"I think it was Thayer who brought down that warrior," he said. "Thayer is one of the bravest men I ever saw, and a great scout and trailer. He'd be worthy to go with Willet and Tayoga and you. Ah, there goes a second death shout! Any one who seeks a brush with these boys of mine does it at his own risk."

He spoke proudly, but one of his own men came creeping back presently with a wound in his shoulder. Rogers himself bound it up and the man lay down in his blanket, confident that in a week he could resume his place in the campaign. Those who lived the life he did had, of necessity, bodies as hard as iron.

The deadly skirmishing died down repeatedly, but, after a little while, it was always renewed. Though the warriors were getting the worst of it, they persisted in the attack, and Robert knew they must have some motive, not yet evident.

"Either they hope to frighten us back, or they mean to hold us until a much bigger force comes up," he said.

"One or the other," said Rogers, "but I don't believe any big band would venture down here. The hope to frighten us seems the more likely."

The combat, drawn out long and with so little result, annoyed Robert intensely. As he saw it, it could have no decisive effect upon anything and was more than futile, it was insensate folly. The original time set for his watch was over long since and he wanted to roll himself in his blanket and find slumber, but those ferocious warriors would not let him. Despite their losses, they still hung around the hill, and, giving up the attempt to stalk the defenders through the grass, fired long shots from the cover of the forest. Another ranger was wounded by a chance bullet, but Rogers, skillful and cautious, refused to be drawn from the shelter of the bushes on the hill.

Thus the fitful and distant combat was waged until dawn. But with the rise of a brilliant sun, throwing a clear light over the whole wilderness, the warriors drew off and the rangers resumed their march.



CHAPTER XIII

THE REUNION

Willet, the hunter, and Tayoga, the great young Onondaga trailer, were walking through the northern woods, examining forest and bush very cautiously as they advanced, knowing that the danger from ambushed warriors was always present. Willet was sadder and sterner than of old, while the countenance of the Onondaga was as grave and inscrutable as ever, though he looked older, more mature, more the mighty forest runner.

"Think you, Tayoga," said the hunter, "that Tandakora and his men have dared to come into this region again?"

"Tandakora will dare much," replied the Onondaga. "Though he is full of evil, we know that well. The French still hold Ticonderoga, and he can use it as a base for bands much farther south."

"True, but I don't think they'll have Ticonderoga, or Crown Point, either, long. Amherst is gathering too big an army and there is no Montcalm to defend them. The Marquis will have his hands full and overflowing, defending Quebec against Wolfe. We've held both Duquesne and Louisbourg a long while now. We've smashed the French line at both ends, and Mr. Pitt is going to see that it's cut in the center too. How I wish that Robert were alive to see the taking of Ticonderoga! He saw all the great defeat there and he was entitled to this recompense."

He sighed deeply.

"It may be, Great Bear," said Tayoga, "that Dagaeoga will see the taking of Ticonderoga. No one has ever looked upon his dead body. How then do we know that he is dead?"

Willet shook his head.

"'Tis no use, Tayoga," he said. "The lad was murdered by Garay and the river took his body away. Why, it will be a year this coming autumn since he disappeared, and think you if he were alive he couldn't have come back in that time! 'Tis the part of youth to hope, and it does you credit, but the matter is past hope now. We've all given up except you."

"When only one hopes, Great Bear, though all others have failed, there is still hope left. Last night I saw Tododaho on his star very clearly. He looked down at me, smiled and seemed to speak. I could not hear his words, but at the time I was thinking of Dagaeoga. Since Tododaho sits with the great gods, and is one of them, he knew my thoughts, and, if he smiled when I was thinking of Dagaeoga, he meant to give me hope."

The hunter again shook his head sadly.

"You thought you saw it, because you wished it so much," he said, "or maybe the promise of Tododaho was for the future, the hereafter."

"For the hereafter we need no special promise, Great Bear. That has always been made to all of us by Manitou himself, but I was thinking of Dagaeoga alive, present with us in this life, when Tododaho smiled down on me. I hold it in my heart, Great Bear, as a sign, a promise."

Willet shook his head for the third time, and with increasing sadness, but said nothing more. If Tayoga cherished such a hope it was a consolation, a beautiful thing, and he was not one to destroy anybody's faith.

"Do you know this region?" he asked.

"I was through here once with the Mohawk chief, Daganoweda," replied Tayoga. "It is mostly in heavy forest, and, since the war has gone on so long and the settlers have gone away, there has been a great increase in the game."

"Aye, I know there'll be no trouble on that point. If our own supplies give out it won't take long to find a deer or a bear. It's a grand country in here, Tayoga, and sometimes it seems a pity to one that it should ever be settled by white people, or, for that matter, by red either. Let it remain a wilderness, and let men come in, just a little while every year, to hunt."

"Great Bear talks wisdom, but it will not be done his way. Men have been coming here a long time now to fight and not to hunt. See, Great Bear, here is a footprint now to show that some one has passed!"

"'Twas made by the moccasin of a warrior. A chance hunter."

"Suppose we follow it, Great Bear. It is our business to keep guard and carry word to Amherst."

"Good enough. Lead and I'll follow."

"It is not the step of a warrior hunting," said Tayoga, as they pursued the traces. "The paces are even, regular and long. He goes swiftly, not looking for anything as he goes, but because he wishes to reach a destination as soon as possible. Ah, now he stopped and he leaned against this bush, two of the stems of which are broken! I do not know what he stopped for, Great Bear, but it may have been to give a signal, though that is but a surmise. Now he goes on, again walking straight and swift. Ah, another trail coming from the west joining his and the two warriors walk together!"

The two followed the double trail a mile or more in silence, and then it was joined by the traces of three more warriors. The five evidently had stood there, talking a little while, after which they had scattered.

"Now, what does that mean?" exclaimed the hunter.

"I think if we follow every one of the five trails," said Tayoga, "we will find that the men lay down in the bush. It is certain in my mind, Great Bear, that they were preparing for a battle, and they were but a part of a much larger force hidden in these thickets."

"Now, that's interesting, Tayoga. Let's look around and see if we can find where more of the warriors lay."

They circled to the right, and presently they came upon traces where three men had knelt behind bushes. The imprints of both knees and toes were plain.

"They were here a long time," said Tayoga, "because they have moved about much within a little space. In places the ground is kneaded by their knees. And lo! Great Bear, here on the bush several of the young leaves are burned. Now, you and I know well what alone would do that at such a time."

"It was done by the flash from a big musket, such a musket as those French Indians carry."

"It could have been nothing else. I think if we go still farther around the curve we will find other bushes behind which other warriors kneeled and fired, and maybe other leaves scorched by the flash of big muskets."

A hundred yards more and they saw that for which they looked. The signs were just the same as at the other places.

"Now, it is quite clear to you and me, Great Bear," said the Onondaga, "that these men, posted along a curving line, were firing at something. They were here a long time, as the numerous and crowded footprints at every place show. They could not have been firing at game, because there were too many of them, and the game would not have stayed to be fired at so long. Therefore, Great Bear, and you know it as well as I, they must have been in battle. All the points of ambush to which we have come are at an almost equal distance from some other point."

"Which, Tayoga, is that hill yonder, crowned with bushes, but with bare slopes, a good place for a defense, and just about a long rifle or musket shot from the forest here."

"So it is, Great Bear. It could be nothing else. The defenders lay among the bushes on top of the hill, and the battle was fought in the night, because those who attacked were not numerous enough to push a combat in the day. The defenders must have been white men, as we know from the footprints here that the assailants were warriors. Ah, here are other traces, Great Bear, and here are more, all trodden about in the same manner, indicating a long stay, and all at about an equal distance from the hill! I think the warriors lay in the forest all night firing upon the hill, and probably doing little damage. But they suffered more hurt themselves. See, here are faint traces of blood, yet staining the grass, and here is a trail leading out of the bushes and into the grass that lines the slopes of the hill. The trail goes forward, and then it comes back. It is quite clear to both of us, Dagaeoga, that a warrior, creeping through the long grass, tried to stalk the hill, but met a bullet instead. Those who lay upon the hill and defended themselves were not asleep. They could detect warriors who tried to steal forward and secure good shots at them. And they could fire at long range and hit their targets. Now, soldiers know too little of the forest to do that, and so it must have been scouts or rangers."

"Perhaps some of the rangers belonging to Rogers. We know that he's operating in this region."

"It was in my thought too, Great Bear, that the rangers of the Mountain Wolf lay on the hill. See, here is a second trace of blood, and it also came from a warrior who tried to stalk the hill, but who had to come back again after he had been kissed by a bullet. The men up there among the bushes never slept, and they allowed no one of their enemies to come near enough for a good shot with a musket. The chances are ninety-nine out of a hundred that they were rangers, Great Bear, and we may speak of them as rangers. Now, we come to a spot where at least a dozen warriors lay, and, since their largest force was here, it is probable that their chief stayed at this spot. See, the small bones of the deer picked clean are lying among the bushes. I draw from it the opinion, and so do you, Great Bear, that the warriors kept up the siege of the hill until dawn, because at dawn they would be most likely to eat their breakfast, and these little bones of the deer prove that they did eat this breakfast here. Now, it is very probable that they went away, since they could win nothing from the defenders of the hill."

"Here's their broad trail leading directly from the hill."

They followed the trail a little distance, finding those of other warriors joining, until the total was about forty. Willet laughed with quiet satisfaction.

"They had all they wanted of the hill," he said, "and they're off swiftly to see if they can't find easier prey elsewhere."

"And you and I, Great Bear, will go back and see what happened on the hill, besides discovering somewhat more about the identity of the defenders."

"Long words, Tayoga, but good ones upon which we can act. I'm anxious about the top of that hill myself."

They went back and walked slowly up the hill. They knew quite well that nobody was there now. The entire forest scene had vanished, so far as the actors were concerned, but few things disappear completely. The actors could go, but they could not do so without leaving traces which the two great scouts were able to read.

"How long ago do you think all this happened, Tayoga?" asked Willet.

"Not many hours since," replied the Onondaga. "It is mid-morning now, and we know that the warriors departed at dawn. The people on the hill would stay but a little while after their enemies had gone, and since they were rangers they would not long remain blind to the fact that they had gone."

They pushed into the bushes, and were soon among the traces left by the defenders.

"Here is where the guard knelt," said Tayoga, as they walked around the circle of the bushes, "and behind them is where the men slept in their blankets. That is farther proof that they were rangers. They had so much experience, and they felt so little alarm that most of them slept placidly, although they knew warriors were watching below seeking to shoot them down. The character of the footprints indicates that all of the defenders were white men. Here is a trail that I have seen many times before, so many times that I would know it anywhere. It is that of the Mountain Wolf. He probably had a small part of his rangers here and was on his way to join his main force, to act either with Amherst or Waraiyageh (Sir William Johnson). Of course he would depart with speed as soon as his enemy was beaten off."

"Altogether reasonable, Tayoga, and I'm glad Rogers is in these parts again with his rangers. Our generals will need him."

"The Mountain Wolf stood here a long time," said Tayoga. "He walked now and then to the right, and also to the left, but he always came back to this place. He stood here, because it is a little knoll, and from it he could see better than from anywhere else into the forest that hid the enemy below. The Mountain Wolf is a wise man, a great forest fighter, and a great trailer, but he was not alone when he stood here."

"I suppose he had a lieutenant of course, a good man whom he could trust. Every leader has such a helper."

The Onondaga knelt and examined the traces minutely. When he rose his eyes were blazing.

"He did have a good helper, an able assistant, O Great Bear!" he said. "He had one whom he trusted, one whom I could trust, one whom you could trust. The Mountain Wolf stood by this bush and talked often with one whom we shall be very glad to see, O Great Bear, one whom the Mountain Wolf himself was both surprised and glad to see."

"Your meaning is beyond me, Tayoga."

"It will not be beyond you very long, O Great Bear! When Tododaho, reading my thoughts, looked down on me last night from the great star on which he has lived four hundred years, and smiled upon me, his smile meant what it said. The Hodenosaunee are the children of Todohado and Hayowentha, and they never make sport of them, nor of any one of them."

"I'm still in the dark of the matter, Tayoga!"

"Does not Great Bear remember what I was thinking about when Todohado smiled? What I said and always believed is true, O Great Bear! I believed it against all the world and I was right. Look at the traces beside those of the Mountain Wolf! They are light and faint, but look well at them, O Great Bear! I would know them anywhere! I have seen them thousands of times, and so has the Great Bear! Dagaeoga has come back! He stood here beside the Mountain Wolf! He was on this hill among the bushes all through the night, while the rangers fought the warriors among the trees below! He and the Mountain Wolf talked together and consulted while they looked at the forest! Lo! my brother Dagaeoga has come back out of the mists and vapors into which he went nearly a year ago, for he is my brother, though my skin is red and his is white, and he has been my brother ever since we were little children together! Lo! Great Bear, Dagaeoga has come back as I told you, as I alone told you he would, and my heart sings a song of joy within me, because I have loved my brother! Look! look, Great Bear, and see where the living Dagaeoga has walked, not six hours since!"

Willet knelt and examined the traces. He too was a great trailer, but he did not possess the superhuman instinct that had come down through the generations to the Onondaga. He merely saw traces, lighter than those made by Rogers. But if his eyes could not, his mind did tell him that Tayoga was right. The ring of conviction was so strong in the voice of the Onondaga that Willet's faith was carried with it.

"It must be as you tell me, Tayoga," he said. "I do not doubt it. Robert has been here with Rogers. He has come back out of the mists and vapors that you tell about, and he walked this hill in the living flesh only a few hours ago. Where could he have been? How has it happened?"

"That does not concern us just now, Great Bear. It is enough to know that he is alive, and we rejoice in it. Before many hours we shall speak with him, and then he can tell his tale. I know it will be a strange and wonderful one, and unless Degaeoga has lost his gift of words, which I think impossible, it will lose no color in the telling."

"Let him spin what yarn he pleases, I care not. All I ask is to put eyes on the lad again. It seems, when I think of it in cold blood, that it can scarce be true, Tayoga. You're sure you made no mistake about the footsteps?"

"None, Great Bear. It is impossible. I know as truly that the living Dagaeoga stood on this hill six hours ago as I know that you stand before me now."

"Then lead on, Tayoga, and we'll follow the trail of the rangers. We ought to overtake 'em by noon or soon after."

The broad path, left by the rangers, was like the trail of an army to Tayoga, and they followed it at great speed, keeping a wary eye for a possible ambush on either side. The traces grew fresher and fresher, and Tayoga read them with an eager eye.

"The Mountain Wolf, Dagaeoga and the rangers are walking rapidly," he said. "I think it likely that they are going to join Amherst in his advance on Ticonderoga or Crown Point, or maybe they will turn west and help Waraiyageh, but, in either case, they do not feel any alarm about the warriors with whom they fought last night. Now and then the trail of a scout branches off from their main trail, but it soon comes back again. They feel quite sure that the warriors were only a roving band, and will not attack them again. The Mountain Wolf and Dagaeoga walk side by side, and we can surmise, Great Bear, that they talk much together. Perhaps Dagaeoga was telling the Mountain Wolf where he has been these many months, why he went away, and why he chose to come back when he did out of the mists and vapors. Dagaeoga is strong and well. Look how his footprints show the length of his stride and how steady and even it is! He walks stride for stride with the Mountain Wolf, who as we know is six feet tall. Dagaeoga has grown since he went away. He was strong before he left, but he is stronger now. I think we shall find, Great Bear, that while Dagaeoga was absent his time was not lost. It may be that he gained by it."

"I'm not thinking whether he has or not, Tayoga. I'm glad enough to get the lad back on any terms. We're making great speed now, and I think we ought to overtake 'em before long. The trail appears to grow a lot fresher."

"In an hour, Great Bear, we can signal to them. It will be best to send forth a call, since one does not approach in the forest, in war, without sending word ahead that he is a friend, else he may be met by a bullet."

"That's good and solid truth, Tayoga. We couldn't have our meeting with Robert spoiled at the last moment by a shot. But it's much too early yet to send out a call."

"So it is, Great Bear. I think, too, the rangers have increased their speed. Their stride has lengthened, but, as before, the Mountain Wolf and Dagaeoga keep together. They are great friends. You will recall that they fought side by side on the shores of Andiatarocte."

"I remember it well enough, Tayoga. Nobody could keep from liking Robert. 'Tis a gallant spirit he has."

"It is so, Great Bear. He carries light wherever he goes. Such as he are needed among us. Because of that I never believed that Manitou had yet taken him to himself. The rangers stopped here, sat on these fallen logs, and ate food at noonday. There are little bones that they threw away, and the birds, seeking shreds of food, are still hopping about."

"That's clear, Tayoga, and since they would probably stay about fifteen minutes we ought to come within earshot of them in another half hour."

They pressed on at speed, and, within the appointed time, they sank down in a dense clump of bushes, where Tayoga sent forth the mellow, beautiful song of a bird, a note that penetrated a remarkable distance in the still day.

"It is a call that Dagaeoga knows," he said. "We have used it often in the forest."

In a few minutes the reply, exactly the same, faint but clear, came back from the north. When the sound died away, Tayoga imitated the bird again, and the second reply came as before.

"Now we will go forward and shake the hand of Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga.

Rising from the bush, the two walked boldly in the direction whence the reply had come, and they found a tall, straight young figure advancing to meet them.

"Robert, my lad!" exclaimed Willet.

"Dagaeoga!" said the Onondaga.

Each seized a hand of Robert and shook it. Their meeting was not especially demonstrative, but their emotions were very deep. They were bound together by no common ties.

"You've changed, Robert," said Willet, merely as a sort of relief to his feelings.

"And you haven't, Dave," said Robert, with the same purpose in view. "And you, Tayoga, you're the great Onondaga chief you always were."

"I hope to be a chief some day," said Tayoga simply, "and then, when I am old enough, to be a sachem too, but that rests with Tododaho and Manitou. Dagaeoga has been away a long time, and we do not know where he went, but since he has come back out of the mists and vapors, it is well."

"I understood your call at once," said Robert, "and as you know I gave the reply. I came from Albany with Rogers to find you, and I found you quicker than I had hoped. We had a meeting with hostile warriors last night, but we beat 'em off, and we've been pushing on since then."

"Your encounter last night was what enabled us to find you so quickly," said Willet. "Tayoga read on the ground the whole story of the combat. He understood every trace. He recognized the footprints of Rogers and then your own. He always believed that you'd come back, but nobody else did. He was right, and everybody else was wrong. You're bigger, Robert, and you're graver than you were when you went away."

"I've been where I had a chance to become both, Dave. I'll tell you all about it later, for here's Rogers now, waiting to shake hands with you too."

"Welcome, old friend," said Rogers, grasping the hunter's powerful hand in his own, almost as powerful, "and you too Tayoga. If there's a finer lad in the wilderness anywhere, I don't know it."

They said little more at present, joining the group of rangers and going on steadily until nightfall. On the way Robert gave Willet and Tayoga an outline of what had happened to him, not neglecting the dying words of the slaver.

"It was the hand of Van Zoon," he said.

"Aye, it was Van Zoon," said the hunter. "It was his hand too that was raised against you that time in New York. I've feared him on your account, Robert. It's one reason why we've been so much in the forest. You wonder why Huysman or Hardy or I don't tell you about him, but all in good time. If we don't tell you now it's for powerful reasons."

"The others have told me so too," said Robert, "and I'm not asking to know anything I oughtn't to know now. If you put off such knowledge, Dave, I'm sure it ought to be put off."

They overtook the main body of the rangers that night, and Rogers now had a force of more than two hundred men, but information from his second in command decided him to join in the great movement of Sir William Johnson and Prideaux against Niagara. The duties of Willet and Tayoga called them to Amherst, and of course Robert went with them. So the next morning they parted from Rogers.

"I think there'll be big things to tell the next time we meet," said Willet to Rogers. "Mr. Pitt doesn't make his plans for nothing. He not only makes big plans, but he prepares big armies and fleets to carry 'em out."

"We have faith in him everywhere here," said Rogers, "and I hear they've the same faith in him on the other side of the Atlantic. The failure before Ticonderoga didn't seem to weaken it a particle. Take care of yourselves, my friends."

It was a sincere farewell on both sides, but quickly over, and the three pressed on to Amherst's camp, in the valley near the head of Lake George, that had already seen so many warlike gatherings. Here a numerous and powerful army, bent upon taking Ticonderoga and Crown Point, was being trained already, and Robert, after visiting it, looked once more and with emotion upon the shores of Andiatarocte.

Fate was continually calling him back to this lake and Champlain, around which so much of American story is wrapped. The mighty drama known as the Seven Years' War, that involved nearly all the civilized world, found many of its springs and also much of its culmination here. The efforts made by the young British colonies, and by the mother country, England, were colossal, and the battles were great for the time. To the colonies, and to those in Canada as well, the campaigns were a matter of life or death. For the English colonies the war, despite valor and heroic endurance, had been going badly in the main, but now almost all felt that a change was coming, and it seemed to be due chiefly to one man, Pitt. It was Napoleon who said later that "Men are nothing, a man is everything," but America, as well as England, knew that in the Seven Years' War Pitt, in himself, was more than an army—he was a host. And America as well as England has known ever since that there was never a greater Englishman, and that he was an architect who built mightily for both.

The future was not wholly veiled to Robert as he looked down anew upon the glittering waters of Andiatarocte. He had come in contact with the great forces that were at work, he had vision anew and greater vision, and he knew the gigantic character of the stakes for which men played. If the French triumphed here in America, then the old Bourbon monarchy, which Willet told him was so diseased and corrupt, would appear triumphant to all the world. It would invent new tyrannies, the cause of liberty and growth would be set back generations, and nobody would be trodden under the heel more than the French people themselves. Robert liked the French, and sometimes the thought occurred to him that the English and Americans were fighting not only their own battle but that of the French as well.

He knew as he stood with Willet and Tayoga looking at Lake George that the great crisis of the war was at hand. All that had gone before was mere preparation. He had felt the difference at once when he came back from his island. The old indecision, doubt and despondency were gone; now there was a mighty upward surge. Everybody was full of hope, and the evidence of one's own eyes showed that the Anglo-American line was moving forward at all points. A great army would soon be converging on Ticonderoga, where a great army had been defeated the year before, but now there would be no Montcalm to meet. He must be in Quebec to defend the very citadel and heart of New France against the army and fleet of Wolfe. The French in Canada were being assailed on all sides, and the decaying Bourbon monarchy could or would send no help. Robert's occasional thought, that the English and Americans might be fighting for the French as well as themselves, did not project itself far enough to foresee that out of the ashes left by the fall of Canada might spring another and far stronger France.

"I'm glad I'm back here to join in the new advance on Ticonderoga," said Robert. "As I was with Montcalm and saw our army defeated when it ought not to have been, I think it only a just decree of fate that I should be here when it wins."

"We'll take Ticonderoga this time, Robert. Never fear," said Willet. "We'll advance with our artillery, and the French have no force there that can stop us. Amherst is building a fort that he calls Edward, but we'll never need it. He's very cautious, but it's as well, our curse in this war has been the lack of caution, lack of caution by both English and Americans. Still, that over-confidence has a certain strength in it. You've noticed how we endure disaster. We've had heavy defeats, but we rise after every fall, and go into the combat once more, stronger than we went before."

The three spent some time with Amherst, and saw his great force continue its preparation and drilling, until at last the general thought they were fit to cope with anything that lay before them. Then, a year lacking but a few days after Abercrombie embarked with his great army for the conquest of Ticonderoga, Amherst with another army, mostly Americans, embarked upon the same waters, and upon the same errand.

Robert, Tayoga and Willet were in a canoe in the van of the fleet. They were roving scouts, held by the orders of nobody, and they could do as they pleased, but for the present they pleased to go forward with the army. Robert and Tayoga were paddling with powerful strokes, while Willet watched the shores, the lake and the long procession. The sun was brilliant, but there was a strong wind off the mountains and the boats rocked heavily in the waves. Nevertheless, the fleet, carrying its artillery with it, bore steadily on.

"The French have as big a force at Ticonderoga as they had when Montcalm defeated Abercrombie," said the hunter, "and it's commanded by Bourlamaque."

"A brave and skillful man," said Robert. "I saw him when I was a prisoner of the French."

"But he knows Amherst will not make the mistake Abercrombie did," said Willet. "Our big guns will talk for us, and they'll say things that wooden walls can't listen to long. I'm thinking that Bourlamaque won't stand. I've heard that he'll retreat to the outlet of Lake Champlain and make a last desperate defense at Isle-aux-noix. If he's wise, and I think he is, he'll do it."

"Do you know whether St. Luc is with him or if he has gone to Quebec with Montcalm?" asked Robert.

"I haven't heard, but I think it's likely that he's here, because he has so much influence with the Indians, who are far more useful in the woods than in a fortress like Quebec. It's probable that we'll hear from him in the morning when we try a landing."

"You mean we'll spend the night on the lake?"

"Aye, lad. It's blowing harder, and we've a rough sea here, though 'tis a mountain lake. We make way but slowly, and we must be full of caution, or risk a shipwreck, with land in sight on both sides of us."

Night drew on, dark and blowy, with the army still on the water, as Willet had predicted, and much of it seasick. The lofty shores, green by day, were clothed in mists and vapor, and the three saw no trace of the French or the Indians, but they were quite sure they were watching from the high forests. Robert believed now that St. Luc was there, and that once again they would come into conflict.

"Do you think we'd better try the shore to-night?" he asked.

Willet shook his head.

"'Twould be too risky," he replied, "and, even if we succeeded, 'twould do no good. We'll find out in the morning all we want to know."

They tied their canoe to one of the long boats, and, going on board the latter, slept a little. But slumber could not claim Robert long. All about, it was a battle-ground to him, whether land or water. Armies had been passing and repassing, and fighting here from the beginning. It was the center of the world to him, and in the morning they would be in battle again. If St. Luc held the shore they would not land unscorched. He tried to see signals on the mountain, but the French did not have to talk to one another. They and their red allies lay silent and unseen in the dark woods and waited.

Dawn came, and the three were back in their canoe. The wind had died, and the fleet, bearing the army, moved forward to the landing. Officers searched the woods with their strongest glasses, while the scouts in their canoes, daring every peril, shot forward and leaped upon the shore. Then a sheet of musketry and rifle fire burst from the woods. Men fell from the boats into the water, but others held on to the land that they had gained.

Robert, Tayoga and Willet among the first fired at dusky figures in the woods, and once or twice they caught the gleam of French uniforms.

"It is surely St. Luc," said Robert, when he heard the notes of a silver whistle, "but he can't keep us from landing."

"Aye, it's he," said Willet, "and he's making a game fight of it against overwhelming forces."

Cannon from the boats also swept the forest with grape and round shot, and the troops began to debark. It was evident that the French and Indians were not in sufficient numbers to hold them back. Not all the skill of St. Luc could avail. The three soon had evidence that the formidable Ojibway chief was there also. Tayoga saw a huge trace in the earth, and called the attention of Willet and Robert to it.

"Tandakora is in the bush," he said. "Sharp Sword does not like him, but Manitou has willed that they must often be allies. Now the battle thickens, but the end is sure."

The shores of Lake George, so often the scene of fierce strife, blazed with the fury of the combat. The mountains gave back the thunder of guns on the big boats, and muskets and rifles crackled in the forest. Now and then the shouts of the French and the Indian yell rose, but the triumphant American cheer always replied. The troops poured ashore and the odds against St. Luc rose steadily.

"The Chevalier can't hold us back many minutes longer," said Willet. "If he doesn't give ground, he'll be destroyed."

A few minutes more of resolute fighting and they heard the long, clear call of the silver whistle. Then the forces in front of them vanished suddenly, and not a rifle replied to their fire. French, Canadians and Indians were gone, as completely as if they had never been, but, when the Americans advanced a little farther, they saw the dead, whom St. Luc had not found time to take away. Although the combat had been short, it had been resolute and fierce, and it left its proofs behind.

"Here went Tandakora," said Tayoga. "His great footsteps are far apart, which shows that he was running. Perhaps he hopes to lay an ambush later on. The heart of the Ojibway was full of rage because he could not withstand us."

"And I imagine that the heart of the Chevalier de St. Luc is also heavy," said Robert. "He knows that General Amherst is bringing his artillery with him. When I was at Ticonderoga last year and General Abercrombie advanced, the French, considering the smallness of their forces, were in doubt a long time about standing, and I know from what I heard that they finally decided to defend the place because we did not bring up our guns. We're making no such mistake now; we're not underrating the enemy in that way. It's glorious, Dave, to come back over the ground where you were beaten and retrieve your errors."

"So it is, Robert. We'll soon see this famous Ticonderoga again."

Robert's heart beat hard once more. All the country about him was familiar. So much had been concentrated here, and now it seemed to him that the climax was approaching. Many of the actors in last year's great drama were now on another stage, but Bourlamaque and St. Luc were at hand, and Tandakora had come too with his savages. He looked around it the splendid landscape of lake and mountain and green forest, and the pulses in his temples throbbed fast.

"Aye, Dagaeoga," said Tayoga, who was looking at him, "it is a great day that has come."

"I think so," said Robert, "and what pleases me most is the sight of the big guns. Look how they come off the boats! They'll smash down that wooden wall against which so many good men hurled themselves to death last year. We've got a general who may not be the greatest genius in the world, but he'll have neither a Braddock's defeat nor a Ticonderoga disaster."

Caution, supreme caution, was evident to them all as they moved slowly forward, with the bristling guns at the front. Robert's faith in the cannon was supreme. He looked upon them as their protectors. They were to be the match for Ticonderoga.

On they went, winding through the forest and valleys, but they met nothing. The green woods were silent and deserted, though much was there for Tayoga to read.

"Here still goes Tandakora," he said, "and his heart is as angry as ever. He is bitter against the French, too, because he fears now that he has taken the wrong side. He sees the power of his enemies growing and growing, and Montcalm is not here to lead the French. I do not think Tandakora will go into the fort with St. Luc and Bourlamaque. His place is not inside the walls. He wants the great forest to roam in."

"In that Tandakora is right," said Willet; "he acts according to his lights. A fortress is no place for an Indian."

"Tandakora is now going more slowly," resumed the Onondaga. "His paces shorten. It may be that he will stop to talk with some one. Ah! he does, and it is no less a man than Sharp Sword himself. I have looked upon Sharp Sword's footprints so often that I know them at a glance. He and Tandakora stood here, facing each other, and talked. Neither moved from his tracks while he spoke, and so I think it was not a friendly conference. It is likely that the Ojibway spoke of the defeat of the French, and Sharp Sword replied that in defeat as well as victory true allies stand together. Moreover, he said that defeat might be followed by victory and one must always hope. But Tandakora was not convinced. It is the custom of the Indian to run away when he knows that his enemy is too strong for him, and it may be wise. Now Tandakora turns from the course and goes toward the west. And, lo! his warriors all fall in behind him! Here is their great trail. Sharp Sword heads in another direction. He is going with the French and Canadians to the fortress."

The army, under the shadow of its great guns, moved slowly on, and presently they came upon the terrible field of the year before. Before them lay the wall, stronger than ever with earth and logs, but not a man held it. The French and Canadians were in the fortress, and the Americans and English were free to use the intrenchments as a shelter for themselves if they chose.

"It's going to be a siege," said Willet.

The cannon of Ticonderoga soon opened, and Amherst's guns replied, the cautious general moving his great force forward in a manner that betokened a sure triumph, though it might be slow. But on the following night the whole French army, save a few hundred men under Hebecourt, left to make a last desperate stand, stole away and made for Isle-aux-Noix. Hebecourt replied to Amherst's artillery with the numerous guns of the fort for three days. Amherst still would not allow his army to move forward for the assault, having in mind the terrible losses of last year and knowing that he was bound to win.

The brave Hebecourt and his soldiers also left the fort at last, escaping in boats, and leaving a match burning in the magazine. One of the bastions of Ticonderoga blew up with a tremendous explosion, and then the victorious army marched in. Ticonderoga, such a looming and tremendous name in America, a fortress for which so much blood had been shed, had fallen at last. Robert did not dream that in another war, less than twenty years away, it would change hands three times.

They found, a little later, that Crown Point, the great fortress upon which the French king had spent untold millions, had been abandoned also and was there for the Anglo-American army to take whenever it chose. Then Amherst talked of going on into Canada and cooeperating with Wolfe, but, true to his cautious soul, he began to build forts and arrange for the mastery of Lake Champlain.

Robert, Tayoga and Willet grew impatient as the days passed. The news came that Prideaux had been killed before Niagara, but Sir William Johnson, the Waraiyageh of the Mohawks, assuming command in his stead, had taken the place, winning a great victory. After the long night the dawn had come. Everything seemed to favor the English and Americans, and now the eyes of the three turned upon Quebec. It was evident that the war would be won or lost there, and they could bear the delays no longer. Saying farewell to their comrades of Amherst's army, they plunged into the northern wilderness, taking an almost direct course for Quebec.

They were entering a region haunted by warriors, and still ranged by daring French partisans, but they had no fear. Robert believed that the surpassing woodcraft of the hunter and the Onondaga would carry them safely through, and he longed for Quebec, upon which the eyes of both the New World and the Old now turned. They had heard that Wolfe had suffered a defeat at the Montmorency River, due largely to the impetuosity of his men, but that he was hanging on and controlled most of the country about Quebec. But Montcalm on the great rock was as defiant as ever, and it seemed impossible to get at him.

"We'll be there in ample time to see the result, whatever it is," said Willet.

"And we may find the trail of Sharp Sword and Tandakora who go ahead of us," said Tayoga.

"But the Ojibway turned away at Ticonderoga," said Robert. "Why do you think he'll go to Quebec?"

"Because he thinks he will get profit out of it, whatever the event. If our army is defeated, he may have a great scalping, such as there was at Fort William Henry; if the French are beaten, it will be easy enough for him to get away in time. But as long as the issue hangs in the balance, Tandakora means to be present."

"Sound reasoning," said the hunter, "and we'll watch for the trail of both St. Luc and the Ojibway. And now, lads, with eyes and ears open, we'll make speed."

And northward they went at a great rate, watching on all sides for the perils that were never absent from the woods and peaks.



CHAPTER XIV

BEFORE QUEBEC

True to the predictions of Tayoga, they struck the trail of St. Luc and Tandakora far up in the province of New York and west of Lake Champlain. Ever since the white man came, hostile forces had been going north or south along well-defined passes in these regions, and, doubtless, bands of Indians had been traveling the same course from time immemorial; so it was not hard for them to come upon the traces of French and Indians going to Quebec to make the great stand against Wolfe and his fleet.

"It is a broad trail because many Frenchmen and Indians make it," said the Onondaga. "As I have said, Sharp Sword and Tandakora do not like each other, but circumstances make them allies. They have rejoined and they go together to Quebec. Here is the trail of at least three hundred men, perhaps two hundred Frenchmen and a hundred warriors. The footsteps of Sharp Sword are unmistakable, and so are those of Tandakora. Behold their great size, Dagaeoga; and here are the prints of boots which belong to De Courcelles and Jumonville. I have seen them often before, Dagaeoga. How could you believe they might have been left by somebody else?"

"I see nothing but some faint traces in the earth," said Robert. "If you didn't tell me, I wouldn't be even sure that they were made by a man."

"But they are plain to us who were born in the woods, and whose ancestors have lived in the woods since the beginning of the world. It is where we are superior to the white man, much as the white man thinks of his wisdom, though there be those, like the Great Bear, the Mountain Wolf and Black Rifle, who know much. But the feet of the two Frenchmen who love not Dagaeoga have passed here."

"It is true they do not love me, Tayoga. I wounded one of them last year, shortly before Ticonderoga, as you know, and I fancy that I'd receive short shrift from either if I fell into his hands."

"That is so. But Dagaeoga will not let himself be captured again. He has been captured often enough now."

"I don't seem to be any the worse for it," said Robert, laughing. "You're right, though, Tayoga. For me to be captured once more would be once too much. As St. Luc doesn't like Tandakora, I imagine you don't see him walking with them."

"I do not, Dagaeoga. Sharp Sword keeps by himself, and now De Courcelles and Jumonville walk with the Ojibway chief. Here are their three trails, that of Tandakora between the other two. Doubtless the two Frenchmen are trying to make him their friend, and it is equally sure that they speak ill to him of St. Luc. But Sharp Sword does not care. He expects little from Tandakora and his warriors. He is thinking of Quebec and the great fight that Montcalm must make there against Wolfe. He is eager to arrive at Stadacona, which you call Quebec, and help Montcalm. He knows that it is all over here on Andiatarocte and Oneadatote, that Ticonderoga is lost forever, that Crown Point is lost forever, and that Isle-aux-Noix must go in time, but he hopes for Stadacona. Yet Sharp Sword is depressed. He does not walk with his usual spring and courage. His paces are shorter, and they are shorter because his footsteps drag. Truly, it was a dagger in the heart of Sharp Sword to give up Ticonderoga and Crown Point."

"I can believe you, Tayoga," said Willet. "It's bitter to lose such lakes and such a land, and the French have fought well for them. Do you think there's any danger of our running into an ambush? It would be like Tandakora to lie in wait for pursuers."

"I am not sure, Great Bear. He, like the Frenchman, is in a great hurry to reach Stadacona."

An hour or two later they came to a dead campfire of St. Luc's force, and, a little farther on, a new trail, coming from the west, joined the Chevalier's. They surmised that it had been made by a band from Niagara or some other fallen French fort in that direction, and that everywhere along the border Montcalm was drawing in his lines that he might concentrate his full strength at Quebec to meet the daring challenge of Wolfe.

"But I take it that the drawing in of the French won't keep down scalping parties of the warriors," said Willet. "If they can find anything on the border to raid, they'll raid it."

"It is so," said Tayoga. "It may be that Tandakora and his warriors will turn aside soon to see if they cannot ambush somebody."

"In that case it will be wise for us to watch out for ourselves. You think Tandakora may leave St. Luc and lie in wait, perhaps, for us?"

"For any one who may come. He does not yet know that it is the Great Bear, Dagaeoga and I who follow. Suppose we go on a while longer and see if he leaves the main trail. Is it the wish of Great Bear and Dagaeoga?"

"It is," they replied together.

They advanced several hours, and then the great trail split, or rather it threw off a stem that curved to the west.

"It is made by about twenty warriors," said Tayoga, "and here are the huge footsteps of Tandakora in the very center of it. I think they will go northwest a while, and then come back toward the main trail, hoping to trap any one who may be rash enough to follow Sharp Sword. But, if the Great Bear and Dagaeoga wish it, we will pursue Tandakora himself and ambush him when he is expecting to ambush others."

The dark eyes of the Onondaga gleamed.

"I can see, Tayoga, that you're hoping for a chance to settle that score between you and the Ojibway," said the hunter. "Maybe you'll get it this time, and maybe you won't, but I'm willing to take the trail after him, and so is Robert here. We may stop a lot of mischief."

It was then about two o'clock in the afternoon, and, as Tayoga said that Tandakora's trail was not more than a few hours old, they pushed on rapidly, hoping to stalk his camp that very night. The traces soon curved back toward St. Luc's and they knew they were right in their surmise that an ambush was being laid by the Ojibway. He and his warriors would halt in the dense bush beside the great trail and shoot down any who followed.

"We'll shatter his innocent little plan," said Willet, his spirits mounting at the prospect.

"Tandakora will not build a fire to-night," said Tayoga. "He will wait in the darkness beside Sharp Sword's path, hoping that some one will come. He will lie in the forest like a panther waiting to spring on its prey."

"And we'll just disturb that panther a little," said Robert, appreciating the merit of their enterprise, which now seemed to all three a kind of great game.