CHAPTER IV

THE PERILOUS PATH

After a long night of sleep and rest, the little troop resumed its

march the next morning. The wounded fortunately were not hurt so

badly that they could not limp along with the others, and, while the

surgery of the soldiers was rude, it was effective nevertheless.

Daganoweda, as they had expected, prepared to leave them for a raid

toward the St. Lawrence. But he said rather grimly that he might

return, in a month perhaps. He knew where they were going to build

their fort, and unless Corlear and all the other British governors

awoke much earlier in the morning it was more than likely that the

young captain from Philadelphia would need the help of the Mohawks

again.

Then Daganoweda said farewell to Robert, Tayoga, Willet and Black

Rifle, addressing each according to his quality. Them he trusted. He

knew them to be great warriors and daring rovers of the wilderness.

He had no advice for them, because he knew they did not need it, but

he expected them to be his comrades often in the great war, and he

wished them well. To Tayoga he said:

"You and I, oh, young chief of the Onondagas, have hearts that beat

alike. The Onondagas do well to keep aloof from the white man's

quarrels for the present, and to sit at peace, though watchful, in the

vale of Onondaga, but your hopes are with our friends the English and

you in person fight for them. We Mohawks know whom to hate. We know

that the French have robbed us more than any others. We know, that

their Quebec is our Stadacona. So we have dug up the tomahawk and last

night we showed to Sharp Sword and his men and Tandakora the Ojibway

how we could use it."

Sharp Sword was the Iroquois name for St. Luc, who had already proved

his great ability and daring as a forest leader.

"The Ganeagaono are now the chief barrier against the French and their

tribes," said Tayoga.

The brilliant eyes of Daganoweda glittered in his dark face. He knew

that Tayoga would not pay the Mohawks so high a compliment unless he

meant it.

"Tayoga," he said, "we belong to the leading nations of the great

League of the Hodenosaunee, you to the Onundahgaono and I to the

Ganeagaono. You are first in the council and we are first on the

warpath. It was Tododaho, the Onondaga, who first formed the great

League and it was Hayowentha, the Mohawk, who combed the snakes out of

his hair and who strengthened it and who helped him to build it so

firmly that it shall last forever. Brothers are we, and always shall

be."

He touched his forehead in salute, and the Onondaga touched his in

reply.

"Aye, brothers are we," he said, "Mohawk and Onondaga, Onondaga and

Mohawk. The great war of the white kings which draws us in it has

come, but I know that Hayowentha watches over his people, and Tododaho

over his. In the spring when I went forth in the night to fight the

Hurons I gazed off there in the west where shines the great star on

which Tododaho makes his home, and I saw him looking down upon me, and

casting about me the veil of his protection."

Daganoweda looked up at the gleaming blue of the heavens, and his eyes

glittered again. He believed every word that Tayoga said.

"As Tododaho watches over you, so Hayowentha watches over me," he

said, "and he will bring me back in safety and victory from the

St. Lawrence. Farewell again, my brother."

"Farewell once more, Daganoweda!"

The Mohawk chief plunged into the forest, and his fifty warriors

followed him. Like a shadow they were gone, and the waving bushes gave

back no sign that they had ever been. Captain Colden rubbed his eyes

and then laughed.

"I never knew men to vanish so swiftly before," he said, "but last

night was good proof that they were here, and that they came in

time. I suppose it's about the only victory of which we can make

boast."

He spoke the full truth. From the St. Lawrence to the Ohio the border

was already ravaged with fire and sword. Appeals for help were pouring

in from the distant settlements, and the governors of New York,

Pennsylvania and Massachusetts scarcely knew what to do. France had

struck the first blow, and she had struck hard. Young Washington,

defeated by overwhelming numbers, was going back to Virginia, and

Duquesne, the fort of the French at the junction of the Monongahela

and Allegheny, was a powerful rallying place for their own forces and

the swarming Indian bands, pouring out of the wilderness, drawn by the

tales of unlimited scalps and plunder.

The task before Captain Colden's slender force was full of danger. His

numbers might have been five times as great and then they would not

have been too many to build and hold the fort he was sent to build and

hold. But he had no thought of turning back, and, as soon as

Daganoweda and the Mohawks were gone, they started, bending their

course somewhat farther toward the south. At the ford of a river

twenty men with horses carrying food, ammunition and other supplies

were to meet them, and they reckoned that they could reach it by

midnight.

The men with the horses had been sent from another point, and it was

not thought then that there was any danger of French and Indian attack

before the junction was made, but the colonial authorities had

reckoned without the vigor and daring of St. Luc. Now the most cruel

fears assailed young Captain Colden, and Robert and the hunter could

not find much argument to remove them. It was possible that the second

force had been ambushed also, and, if so, it had certainly been

destroyed, being capable of no such resistance as that made by

Colden's men, and without the aid of the three friends and the

Mohawks. And if the supplies were gone the expedition would be

useless.

"Don't be downhearted about it, captain," said Willet. "You say

there's not a man in the party who knows anything about the

wilderness, and that they've got just enough woods sense to take them

to the ford. Well, that has its saving grace, because now and then,

the Lord seems to watch over fool men. The best of hunters are trapped

sometimes in the forest, when fellows who don't know a deer from a

beaver, go through 'em without harm."

"Then if there's any virtue in what you say we'll pray that these men

are the biggest fools who ever lived."

"Smoke! smoke again!" called Robert cheerily, pointing straight ahead.

Sure enough, that long dark thread appeared once more, now against the

western sky. Willet laughed.

"They're the biggest fools in the forest, just as you hoped, Captain,"

he said, "and they've taken no more harm than if they had built their

fires in a Philadelphia street. They've set themselves down for the

night, as peaceful and happy as you please. If that isn't the campfire

of your men with the pack horses then I'll eat my cap."

Captain Colden laughed, but it was the slightly hysterical laugh of

relief. He was bent upon doing his task, and, since the Lord had

carried him so far through a mighty danger, the disappointment of

losing the supplies would have been almost too much to bear.

"You're sure it's they, Mr. Willet?" he said.

"Of course. Didn't I tell you it wasn't possible for another such

party of fools to be here in the wilderness, and that the God of the

white man and the Manitou of the red man taking pity on their

simplicity and innocence have protected them?"

"I like to think what you say is true, Mr. Willet."

"It's true. Be not afraid that it isn't. Now, I think we'd better stop

here, and let Robert and Tayoga go ahead, spy 'em out and make

signals. It would be just like 'em to blaze away at us the moment they

saw the bushes move with our coming."

Captain Colden was glad to take his advice, and the white youth and

the red went forward silently through the forest, hearing the sound of

cheerful voices, as they drew near to the campfire which was a large

one blazing brightly. They also heard the sound of horses moving and

they knew that the detachment had taken no harm. Tayoga parted the

bushes and peered forth.

"Look!" he said. "Surely they are watched over by Manitou!"

About twenty men, or rather boys, for all of them were very young,

were standing or lying about a fire. A tall, very ruddy youth in the

uniform of a colonial lieutenant was speaking to them.

"Didn't I tell you, lads," he said, "there wasn't an Indian nearer

than Fort Duquesne, and that's a long way from here! We've come a

great distance and not a foe has appeared anywhere. It may be that the

French vanish when they hear this valiant Quaker troop is coming, but

it's my own personal opinion they'll stay pretty well back in the west

with their red allies."

The youth, although he called himself so, did not look much like a

Quaker to Robert. He had a frank face and merry eyes, and manner and

voice indicated a tendency to gayety. Judging from his words he had no

cares and Indians and ambush were far from his thoughts. Proof of this

was the absence of sentinels. The men, scattered about the fire, were

eating their suppers and the horses, forty in number, were grazing in

an open space. It all looked like a great picnic, and the effect was

heightened by the youth of the soldiers.

"As the Great Bear truly said," whispered Tayoga, "Manitou has watched

over them. The forest does not hold easier game for the taking, and

had Tandakora known that they were here he would have come seeking

revenge for his loss in the attack upon Captain Colden's troop."

"You're right as usual, Tayoga, and now we'd better hail them. But

don't you come forward just yet. They don't know the difference

between Indians and likely your welcome would be a bullet."

"I will wait," said Tayoga.

"I tell you, Carson," the young lieutenant was saying in an oratorical

manner, "that they magnify the dangers of the wilderness. The ford at

which we were to meet Colden is just ahead, and we've come straight to

it without the slightest mishap. Colden is no sluggard, and he should

be here in the morning at the latest. Do you find anything wrong with

my reasoning, Hugh?"

"Naught, William," replied the other, who seemed to be second in

command. "Your logic is both precise and beautiful. The dangers of the

border are greatly exaggerated, and as soon as we get together a good

force all these French and Indians will flee back to Canada. Ah, who

is this?"

Both he and his chief turned and faced the woods in astonishment. A

youth had stepped forth, and stood in full view. He was taller than

either, but younger, dressed completely in deerskin, although superior

in cut and quality to that of the ordinary borderer, his complexion

fair beneath his tan, and his hair light. He gazed at them steadily

with bright blue eyes, and both the first lieutenant and the second

lieutenant of the Quaker troop saw that he was no common person.

"Who are you?" repeated William Wilton, who was the first lieutenant.

"Who are you?" repeated Hugh Carson, who was the second lieutenant.

"My name is Robert Lennox," replied the young stranger in a mellow

voice of amazing quality, "and you, I suppose, are Lieutenant William

Wilton, the commander of this little troop."

He spoke directly to the first lieutenant, who replied, impressed as

much by the youth's voice as he was by his appearance:

"Yes, such is my name. But how did you know it? I don't recall ever

having met you before, which doubtless is my loss."

"I heard it from an associate of yours, your chief in command, Captain

James Colden, and I am here with a message from him."

"And so Colden is coming up? Well, we beat him to the place of

meeting. We've triumphed with ease over the hardships of the

wilderness." "Yes, you arrived first, but he was delayed by a matter

of importance, a problem that had to be solved before he could resume

his march."

"You speak in riddles, sir."

"Perhaps I do for the present, but I shall soon make full

explanations. I wish to call first a friend of mine, an

Indian--although you say there are no Indians in the forest--a most

excellent friend of ours. Tayoga, come!"

The Onondaga appeared silently in the circle of light, a splendid

primeval figure, drawn to the uttermost of his great height, his lofty

gaze meeting that of Wilton, half in challenge and half in

greeting. Robert had been an impressive figure, but Tayoga, owing to

the difference in race, was even more so. The hands of several of the

soldiers moved towards their weapons.

"Did I not tell you that he was a friend, a most excellent friend of

ours?" said Robert sharply. "Who raises a hand against him raises a

hand against me also, and above all raises a hand against our

cause. Lieutenant Wilton, this is Tayoga, of the Clan of the Bear, of

the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee. He is a

prince, as much a prince as any in Europe. His mind and his valor have

both been expended freely in our service, and they will be expended

with equal freedom again."

Robert's tone was so sharp and commanding that Wilton, impressed by

it, saluted the Onondaga with the greatest courtesy, and Tayoga bowed

gravely in reply.

"You're correct in assuming that my name is Wilton," said the young

lieutenant. "I'm William Wilton, of Philadelphia, and I beg to present

my second in command, Hugh Carson, of the same city."

He looked questioningly at Robert, who promptly responded:

"My name is Lennox, Robert Lennox, and I can claim either Albany or

New York as a home."

"I think I've heard of you," said Wilton. "A rumor came to

Philadelphia about a man of that name going to Quebec on an errand for

the governor of New York."

"I was the messenger," said Robert, "but since the mission was a

failure it may as well be forgotten."

"But it will not be forgotten. I've heard that you bore yourself with

great judgment and address. Nevertheless, if your modesty forbids the

subject we'll come back to another more pressing. What did you mean

when you said Captain Colden's delay was due to the solution of a

vexing problem?"

"It had to do with Indians, who you say are not to be found in these

forests. I could not help overhearing you, as I approached your camp."

Wilton reddened and then his generous impulse and sense of truth came

to his aid.

"I'll admit that I'm careless and that my knowledge may be small!" he

exclaimed. "But tell me the facts, Mr. Lennox. I judge by your face

that events of grave importance have occurred."

"Captain Colden, far east of this point, was attacked by a strong

force of French and Indians under the renowned partisan leader,

St. Luc. Tayoga, David Willet, the hunter, the famous ranger Black

Rifle and I were able to warn him and give him some help, but even

then we should have been overborne and destroyed had not a Mohawk

chief, Daganoweda, and a formidable band come to our aid. United, we

defeated St. Luc and drove him northward. Captain Colden lost several

of his men, but with the rest he is now marching to the junction with

you."

Wilton's face turned gray, but in a moment or two his eyes brightened.

"Then a special Providence has been watching over us," he said. "We

haven't seen or heard of an Indian."

His tone was one of mingled relief and humor, and Robert could not

keep from laughing.

"At all events," he said, "you are safe for the present. I'll remain

with you while Tayoga goes back for Captain Colden."

"If you'll be so good," said Wilton, who did not forget his manners,

despite the circumstances. "I've begun to feel that we have more eyes,

or at least better ones, with you among us. Where is that Indian? You

don't mean to say he's gone?"

Robert laughed again. Tayoga, after his fashion, had vanished in

silence.

"He's well on his way to Captain Colden now," he said, exaggerating a

little for the sake of effect. "He'll be a great chief some day, and

meanwhile he's the fastest runner in the whole Six Nations."

Colden and his troop arrived soon, and the two little commands were

united, to the great joy of all. Lieutenant Wilton had passed from

the extreme of confidence to the utmost distrust. Where it had not

been possible for an Indian to exist he now saw a scalplock in every

bush.

"On my honor," he said to Colden, "James, I was never before in my

life so happy to see you. I'm glad you have the entire command now. As

Mr. Lennox said, Providence saved me so far, but perhaps it wouldn't

lend a helping hand any longer."

The pack horses carried surgical supplies for the wounded, and Willet

and Black Rifle were skillful in using them. All of the hurt, they

were sure would be well again within a week, and there was little to

mar the general feeling of high spirits that prevailed in the

camp. Wilton and Carson were lads of mettle, full of talk of

Philadelphia, then the greatest city in the British Colonies, and

related to most of its leading families, as was Colden too, his family

being a branch of the New York family of that name. Robert was at home

with them at once, and they were eager to hear from him about Quebec

and the latest fashions of the French, already the arbiters of

fashion, and recognized as such, despite the war between them, by

English and Americans.

"I had hoped to go to Quebec myself," said Wilton reflectively, "but I

suppose it's a visit that's delayed for a long time now."

"How does it happen that you, a Quaker, are second in command here?"

asked Robert.

"It must be the belligerency repressed through three or four

generations and breaking out at last in me," replied Wilton, his eyes

twinkling. "I suppose there's just so much fighting in every family,

and if three or four generations in succession are peaceful the next

that follows is likely to be full of warlike fury. So, as soon as the

war began I started for it. It's not inherent in me. As I said, it's

the confined ardor of generations bursting forth suddenly in my

person. I'm not an active agent. I'm merely an instrument."

"It was the same warlike fury that caused you to come here, build your

fire and set no watch, expecting the woods to be as peaceful as

Philadelphia?" said Colden.

Wilton colored.

"I didn't dream the French and Indians were so near," he replied

apologetically.

"If comparisons are valuable you needn't feel any mortification about

it, Will," said Colden. "I was just about as careless myself, and all

of us would have lost our scalps, if Willet, Lennox and Tayoga hadn't

come along."

Wilton was consoled. But both he and Colden after the severe lesson

the latter had received were now all for vigilance. Many sentinels had

been posted, and since Colden was glad to follow the advice of Willet

and Tayoga they were put in the best places. They let the fire die

early, as the weather had now become very warm, and all of them, save

the watch soon slept. The night brought little coolness with it, and

the wind that blew was warm and drying. Under its touch the leaves

began to crinkle up at the edge and turn brown, the grass showed signs

of withering and Willet, who had taken charge of the guard that night,

noticed that summer was passing into the brown leaf. It caused him a

pang of disappointment.

Great Britain and the Colonies had not yet begun to move. The

Provincial legislatures still wrangled, and the government at London

was provokingly slow. There was still no plan of campaign, the great

resources of the Anglo-Saxons had not yet been brought together for

use against the quick and daring French, and while their slow, patient

courage might win in the end, Willet foresaw a long and terrible war

with many disasters at the beginning.

He was depressed for the moment. He knew what an impression the early

French successes would make on the Indian tribes, and he knew, too, as

he heard the wind rustling through the dry leaves, that there would be

no English campaign that year. One might lead an army in winter on the

good roads and through the open fields of Europe, but then only

borderers could make way through the vast North American wilderness in

the deep snows and bitter cold, where Indian trails alone existed. The

hunter foresaw a long delay before the British and Colonial forces

moved, and meanwhile the French and Indians would be more strongly

planted in the territory claimed by the rival nations, and, while in

law possession was often nine points, it seemed in war to be ten

points and all.

As he walked back and forth Black Rifle touched him on the arm.

"I'm going, Dave," he said. "They don't need me here any

longer. Daganoweda and his Mohawks, likely enough, will follow the

French and Indians, and have another brush with 'em. At any rate, it's

sure that St. Luc and Tandakora won't come back, and these young men

can go on without being attacked again and build their fort. But

they'll be threatened there later on, and I'll come again with a

warning."

"I know you will," said Willet. "Wherever danger appears on the

border, Black Rifle, there you are. I see great and terrible days

ahead for us all."

"And so do I," said Black Rifle. "This continent is on fire."

The two shook hands, and the somber figure of Black Rifle disappeared

in the forest. Willet looked after him thoughtfully, and then resumed

his pacing to and fro.

They made an early start at dawn of a bright hot day, crossed the

ford, and resumed their long march through the forest which under the

light wind now rustled continually with the increasing dryness.

But the company was joyous. The wounded were put upon the pack horses,

and the others, young, strong and refreshed by abundant rest, went

forward with springing steps. Robert and Tayoga walked with the three

Philadelphians. Colden already knew the quality of the Onondaga, and

respected and admired him, and Wilton and Carson, surprised at first

at his excellent English education, soon saw that he was no ordinary

youth. The five, each a type of his own, were fast friends before the

day's march was over. Wilton, the Quaker, was the greatest talker of

them all, which he declared was due to suppression in childhood.

"It's something like the battle fever which will come out along about

the fourth or fifth generation," he said. "I suppose there's a certain

amount of talk that every man must do in his lifetime, and, having

been kept in a state of silence by my parents all through my youth,

I'm now letting myself loose in the woods."

"Don't apologize, Will," said Colden. "Your chatter is harmless, and

it lightens the spirits of us all."

"The talker has his uses," said Tayoga gravely. "My friend Lennox,

known to the Hodenosaunee as Dagaeoga, is golden-mouthed. The gift of

great speech descends upon him when time and place are fitting."

"And so you're an orator, are you?" said Carson, looking at Robert.

Young Lennox blushed.

"Tayoga is my very good friend," he replied, "and he gives me praise I

don't deserve."

"When one has a gift direct from Manitou," said the Onondaga, gravely,

"it is not well to deny it. It is a sign of great favor, and you must

not show ingratitude, Dagaeoga."

"He has you, Lennox," laughed Wilton, "but you needn't say more. I

know that Tayoga is right, and I'm waiting to hear you talk in a

crisis."

Robert blushed once more, but was silent. He knew that if he protested

again the young Philadelphians would chaff him without mercy, and he

knew at heart also that Tayoga's statement about him was true. He

remembered with pride his defeat of St. Luc in the great test of words

in the vale of Onondaga. But Wilton's mind quickly turned to another

subject. He seemed to exemplify the truth of his own declaration that

all the impulses bottled up in four or five generations of Quaker

ancestors were at last bursting out in him. He talked more than all

the others combined, and he rejoiced in the freedom of the wilderness.

"I'm a spirit released," he said. "That's why I chatter so."

"Perhaps it's just as well, Will, that while you have the chance you

should chatter to your heart's content, because at any time an Indian

arrow may cut short your chance for chattering," said Carson.

"I can't believe it, Hugh," said Wilton, "because if Providence was

willing to preserve us, when we camped squarely among the Indians, put

out no guards, and fairly asked them to come and shoot at us, then it

was for a purpose and we'll be preserved through greater and

continuous dangers."

"There may be something in it, Will. I notice that those who deserve

it least are often the chosen favorites of fortune."

"Which seems to be a hit at your superior officer, but I'll pass it

over, Hugh, as you're always right at heart though often wrong in the

head."

Although the young officers talked much and with apparent lightness,

the troop marched with vigilance now. Willet and Tayoga, and Colden,

who had profited by bitter experience, saw to it. The hunter and the

Onondaga, often assisted by Robert, scouted on the flanks, and three

or four soldiers, who developed rapid skill in the woods, were soon

able to help. But Tayoga and Willet were the main reliance, and they

found no further trace of Indians. Nevertheless the guard was never

relaxed for an instant.

Robert found the march not only pleasant but exhilarating. It

appealed to his imaginative and sensitive mind, which magnified

everything, and made the tints more vivid and brilliant. To him the

forests were larger and grander than they were to the others, and the

rivers were wider and deeper. The hours were more intense, he lived

every second of them, and the future had a scope and brilliancy that

few others would foresee. In company with youths of his own age coming

from the largest city of the British colonies, the one that had the

richest social traditions, his whole nature expanded, and he cast away

much of his reserve. Around the campfires in the evening he became one

of the most industrious talkers, and now and then he was carried away

so much by his own impulse that all the rest would cease and listen to

the mellow, golden voice merely for the pleasure of hearing. Then

Tayoga and Willet would look at each other and smile, knowing that

Dagaeoga, though all unconsciously, held the center of the stage, and

the others were more than willing for him to hold it.

The friendships of the young ripen fast, and under such circumstances

they ripen faster than ever. Robert soon felt that he had known the

three young Philadelphians for years, and a warm friendship, destined

to last all their lives, in which Tayoga was included, was soon

formed. Robert saw that his new comrades, although they did not know

much of the forest, were intelligent, staunch and brave, and they saw

in him all that Tayoga and Willet saw, which was a great deal.

The heat and dryness increased, and the brown of leaf and grass

deepened. Nearly all the green was gone now, and autumn would soon

come. The forest was full of game, and Willet and Tayoga kept them

well supplied, yet their progress became slower. Those who had been

wounded severely approached the critical stage, and once they stopped

two days until all danger had passed.

Three days later a fierce summer storm burst upon them. Tayoga had

foreseen it, and the whole troop was gathered in the lee of a hill,

with all their ammunition protected by blankets, canvas and the skins

of deer that they had killed. But the young Philadelphians,

unaccustomed to the fury of the elements in the wilderness, looked

upon it with awe.

In the west the lightning blazed and the thunder crashed for a long

time. Often the forest seemed to swim in a red glare, and Robert

himself was forced to shut his eyes before the rapid flashes of

dazzling brightness. Then came a great rushing of wind with a mighty

rain on its edge, and, when the wind died, the rain fell straight down

in torrents more than an hour.

Although they kept their ammunition and other supplies dry the men

themselves were drenched to the bone, but the storm passed more

suddenly than it had come. The clouds parted on the horizon, then all

fled away. The last raindrop fell and a shining sun came out in a hot

blue sky. As the men resumed a drooping march their clothes dried fast

in the fiery rays and their spirits revived.

When night came they were dry again, and youth had taken no harm. The

next day they struck an Indian trail, but both Willet and Tayoga said

it had been made by less than a dozen warriors, and that they were

going north.

"It's my belief," said Willet, "that they were warriors from the Ohio

country on their way to join the French along the Canadian border."

"And they're not staying to meet us," said Colden. "I'm afraid, Will,

it'll be some time before you have a chance to show your unbottled

Quaker valor."

"Perhaps not so long as you think," replied Wilton, who had plenty of

penetration. "I don't claim to be any great forest rover, although I

do think I've learned something since I left Philadelphia, but I

imagine that our building of a fort in the woods will draw 'em. The

Indian runners will soon be carrying the news of it, and then they'll

cluster around us like flies seeking sugar."

"You're right, Mr. Wilton," said Willet. "After we build this fort

it's as sure as the sun is in the heavens that we'll have to fight for

it."

Two days later they reached the site for their little fortress which

they named Fort Refuge, because they intended it as a place in which

harried settlers might find shelter. It was a hill near a large creek,

and the source of a small brook lay within the grounds they intended

to occupy, securing to them an unfailing supply of good water in case

of siege.

Now, the young soldiers entered upon one of the most arduous tasks of

the war, to build a fort, which was even more trying to them than

battle. Arms and backs ached as Colden, Wilton and Carson, advised by

Willet, drove them hard. A strong log blockhouse was erected, and then

a stout palisade, enclosing the house and about an acre of ground,

including the precious spring which spouted from under a ledge of

stone at the very wall of the blockhouse itself. Behind the building

they raised a shed in which the horses could be sheltered, as all of

them foresaw a long stay, dragging into winter with its sleet and

snow, and it was important to save the animals.

Robert, Willet and Tayoga had a roving commission, and, as they could

stay with Colden and his command as long as they chose, they chose

accordingly to remain where they thought they could do the most

good. Robert took little part in the hunting, but labored with the

soldiers on the building, although it was not the kind of work to

which his mind turned.

The blockhouse itself, was divided into a number of rooms, in which

the soldiers who were not on guard could sleep, and they had blankets

and the skins of the larger animals the hunters killed for

beds. Venison jerked in great quantities was stored away in case of

siege, and the whole forest was made to contribute to their

larder. The work was hard, but it toughened the sinews of the young

soldiers, and gave them an occupation in which they were interested.

Before it was finished they were joined by another small detachment

with loaded pack horses, which by the same kind of miracle had come

safely through the wilderness. Colden now had a hundred men, fifty

horses and powder and lead for all the needs of which one could think.

"If we only had a cannon!" he said, looking proudly at their new

blockhouse, "I think I'd build a platform for it there on the roof,

and then we could sweep the forest in every direction. Eh, Will, my

lad?"

"But as we haven't," said Wilton, "we'll have to do the sweeping with

our rifles."

"And our men are good marksmen, as they showed in that fight with

St. Luc. But it seems a world away from Philadelphia, doesn't it,

Will? I wonder what they're doing there!"

"Counting their gains in the West India trade, looking at the latest

fashions from England that have come on the ships up the Delaware,

building new houses out Germantown way, none of them thinking much of

the war, except old Ben Franklin, who pegs forever at the governor of

the Province, the Legislature, and every influential man to take

action before the French and Indians seize the whole border."

"I hope Franklin will stir 'em up, and that they won't forget us out

here in the woods. For us at least the French and Indians are a

reality."

Meanwhile summer had turned into autumn, and autumn itself was

passing.

The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign · 第 4 / 15 章