A Traitor in the Camp
"To Captain Steve Mainwaring, His Majesty's Regiment of Scouts."
An Indian climbed up the steep rise of the hillock on the day
following the French attack and presented a note to our hero. Steve
turned it over in his gloved hand, looked at the writing, and then
opened the missive.
"You have done well, and I congratulate you," ran the letter from the
Commander of Fort William Henry. "Your messenger reached us late last
night and explained the heavy firing which we had heard. For your
information I now beg to tell you that I have suspicions that news is
leaking out of this fort. The French have become acquainted with our
dispositions within a few hours of our making them. There is treachery
somewhere, and I look to you to discover who is the rascal. You will
take steps to clear up this mystery, and will report in due course.
I am sending you this day a further store of provisions, powder, and
shot to suit the captured cannon."
There was the usual official ending to the letter and the signature
of the Commander of Fort William Henry. Steve read it through again,
folded it, and dismissed the Indian. Then he called Pete and Jim and
discussed the matter with them.
"Ef there was fifty traitors and bearers of news it wouldn't surprise
me," said Pete. "I ain't got no opinion of them colonists and reg'lars
at Fort William Henry. No opinion at all. They ain't fer the most part
fit to watch for Frenchmen, and much less for Injuns. What air the
use of expecting 'em to be any good, when them critters the Frenchies
could slip through trappers sich as we air? How do yer mean to get
about the business, Cap'n? It seems no easy matter. You've got a
mighty wide strip of country to watch, and ef it's one man bearin' the
news, as seems probable, why, he can go any way, and slip in between
us."
The question was a more than usually difficult one, and for a long
while Steve sat and smoked, staring out through the exit of the fort,
for the damage done by the exploding powder had now been more or
less repaired. News was leaking out of the British fort, news which
might be of importance. It was feared that the French, who were in
great strength at Ticonderoga, might select some clear, fine night to
start out from their fort, and time their march so as to arrive near
Fort William Henry early in the morning. The commander who had sent
Steve the message knew very well that he was sadly lacking in many
respects, particularly in scouts, and the fear of this descent of the
French weighed upon him. And now, in some way or other, he had learned
that news was leaking, that plans he made to resist a French attack
were promptly conveyed to the enemy.
"We have got to stop the leakage whatever happens," said Steve
suddenly, "for if the French are always to know what our people are
doing, they might easily take them unawares and slaughter the whole
garrison. My idea is to take advantage of snowy and overcast weather."
"Snowy weather! Steve--beg pardon--Cap'n, that ain't like you,"
exclaimed Jim, somewhat sadly. "How on airth air a man to see sech a
skunk when it's thick? It ain't possible. Ef there's one thing sartin
it is that thick weather ain't the time to turn out and hunt."
"Not if we have to hunt a wide strip of land, Jim," answered Steve
drily. "But we shall not have to do that. This fellow makes use of
Lake St. George. Steady, Jim. I know you have your own ideas. So have
I. Listen to them and then laugh as much as you like."
The tall trapper subsided at Steve's words, while Pete grinned.
"Fill up yer pipe, Huntin' Jim," he said with a laugh. "Reckon you've
got to sit tight while the Cap'n says his say. This here's a palaver.
When he's done, you can get to it with yer tongue. An old hoss like
you air worth paying some attention to. So's Steve. He air a good 'un."
Jim was mollified. A smile wreathed his thin lips and wrinkled his
mahogany features. He sat down on a lump of frozen snow, kicked off
his snowshoes, and rammed a plug of tobacco into his pipe.
"Right there, Pete," he said. "Reckon when all's said and done that
an old trapper air worth consultin' when it comes to a fix and
there's time to think. But he ain't as good always when there's a
muss and something's got to be done right away at once. Then it's the
youngsters who air worth attendin' to. They air quicker like with
their brains, and chaps like Steve here gets ideas like a flash. He's
done it before."
"I was speaking of the lake, then," said Steve, with a smile, for he
knew Jim well by now, and was aware of his impetuous nature. "I said
that in my opinion this man, for we will take it for granted that
one only is employed in the work, comes and goes over the ice, and
most likely has a rendezvous somewhere near Fort William Henry, where
he meets the rascal who gives away the information which the French
require."
"Gives, Cap'n!" exclaimed Pete, with an oath. "Gives air a polite
word, I guess. Chaps what act as traitors don't give much. They sell.
I can't make out how a man, who's worth calling sich, can 'low hisself
to do a dirty trick like that. It's selling country and friends, and
p'raps wife and children, and all for a little gold."
"Mean men are employed in mean trades, Pete," answered Steve. "It
may even be that this rascal who sells news from Fort William Henry
is a Frenchman in disguise, an English-speaking ruffian with French
sympathies. Any way, I fancy that is how the news leaks out. There
is someone in the fort who sneaks into the forest and meets a French
messenger. That messenger makes his way over the ice, of that I am
sure, for the simple reason that when we came through the forest on
our way here there was only one track, a fresh one, you will remember,
which had been used by several men. This sort of business is done by
a single messenger as a rule, and even supposing that I am wrong in
saying that the man does not make use of the forest, he will not do
so in future for fear of running into our scouting parties. He will
also choose snowy weather, for our look-out station here gives us the
opportunity of seeing anyone who leaves the fort at Ticonderoga."
"Blest ef he ain't a judge like his father," burst in Jim, smoking
furiously. "Get on with it, Steve."
"There is really nothing more. We shall send out scouts every day,
and night, too, when the weather is fine. When it comes on snowy,
we'll send men down close to Fort William Henry, while a few of us
will station ourselves across the lake and watch. The man who comes
from Ticonderoga will cut over the ice in a direct line, for he has a
long journey, and will take the shortest route. Look out there for
yourselves. That line I speak of will pass the point which pushes out
from this side of the lake. A line of watchers stretched for a quarter
of a mile across that line ought to see something."
For a little while the trio stared out at the frozen and snow-covered
surface of the lake, that lake at the head of which stood the French
fort of Ticonderoga, while at its foot was Fort William Henry. And as
they looked, Jim and Pete agreed to the full with what Steve had said.
"Reckon you're right, Cap'n," said the former. "This chap'll be
caught somewheres within hail of that point ef he's caught at all.
Waal, we've given them Frenchies and their varmint a knock already,
and we'll let 'em have another. Give us a fill of yer 'bacca, Steve.
Mine's done. Now, let's have some orders. It's time we shook down to
reg'lar business."
It took only a little while to arrange the duties for the whole band.
They were divided into two sections, each of which was to act as a
rule independently of the other. They were to take night duty week by
week, and when away from the fort, as it had now come to be called,
were to scour as much of the country as possible, so as to prevent
French parties from pouncing upon the woodcutters who were sent every
day from Fort William Henry. This arrangement would always allow half
the band to garrison the place, while the boom of one of the captured
cannon would quickly bring the other in, if that were necessary.
As to the weapons which had been captured, they had been mounted
on the front face of the hillock, and a little thought and skilful
handling by one of the band possessing some mechanical knowledge soon
removed the spikes which Steve had driven into the vents. Men were
told off from the two parties to act as gunners, and no sooner had
the arrangements been completed than Mac took these men in hand, and
commenced to drill them in their new duties. One other arrangement was
made.
"If snow begins to fall, those who are out scouting will make at once
for Fort William Henry," said Steve. "They will endeavour to hit upon
the meeting-place where this rascal sells his news, while those who
are resting here will file off to that point on the lake, and will
draw a line out from it. It will be cold work, boys, but it may bring
success, and thanks from our commander. I think, too, that it might
help if the men engaged in this last duty were dressed as Indians,
for then a Frenchman who happened to catch sight of one of our number
would not take fright so easily. You see, we have very few braves
working with us, and they seldom come even as far from the fort as
this. The French have, on the other hand, some hundreds of Hurons,
Micmacs, and other braves, and they make long excursions."
"It air a good thing that," agreed Pete. "What's more, there ain't
a one of us that can't dress as an Injun in quick time, and act the
part too. As for dress, there's plenty of the braves lyin' out in the
forest."
For a week the scouting work of the band of trappers went on without
incident. The two parties fell into their duties as if they were born
to them, and all agreed that their lot was infinitely more pleasant
than it would have been had they remained at Fort William Henry.
Thanks to the care which Steve had taken, the men had ample time for
rest and sleep, and either half of the band on their return from
scouting always found a good meal ready, that being one of the duties
of those resting in the fort.
"Reckon that 'ere attack and the way we beat 'em off has shook them
Frenchies and their Injuns up a bit," said Jim, one night as he sat
smoking in front of the cosy fire which blazed in the fort. "They've
had their own way for a precious long time, and it's kind'er taken
their breath away to have someone suddenly stop 'em. There ain't no
news from Fort William Henry, Cap'n?"
"Only that the commandant thinks that whoever has been sending news to
the enemy has been quiet this last week. It has been fine, Jim."
"Ay, and it'll snow afore many hours have gone. Jacob thar?"
"Waal, what air wrong? What's wanted?"
A bearded head, topped by a coon-skin cap of huge dimensions which
covered the ears, was thrust into the opening of the fort, while the
owner held the blanket aside with one of his thickly gloved hands.
The firelight shone upon his tanned face, and upon the hundreds of
tiny icicles which clung to his beard, his moustache, and eyebrows.
"Waal?" he repeated. "What's amiss?"
"Nothing, lad. But you air the boy on sentry go, as Mac calls it, and
it's reasonable to think that you've looked to the weather. What's it
doin'?"
"Nothing. Jest cold as ever it was. But it's cloudy. There ain't so
many stars. Suppose it'll snow afore midnight."
"Then sing out when the first flake falls," called Jim. "Now, shut
that 'ere door, Jacob, and quick with it. The wind comes in like a
knife, and we're warm and smokin'."
The bearded face at the opening grinned, a grin denoting disgust
rather than merriment.
"You was always like that, Huntin' Jim," Jacob growled. "Just wait
till it's your turn for sentry go. I'll be the boy then to sit snug in
thar and smoke, and I won't let you know it, oh no, of course I won't."
He was gone, and they heard his feet scrunching the frozen snow
outside. The blanket fell into its place, and the men inside lounged
again, spreading their hands to the flare, smoking and gossiping, for
your trapper was not always the silent person he is sometimes painted,
but a garrulous individual, fond of company, and making the most of it
when he had the opportunity. A little later blankets were produced,
and the whole party lay down with their feet to the fire, over which
a huge iron pot of stew was left simmering.
"It air snowin'. Jest rouse yerselves and come out. It'll liven some
of yer outside, for the wind air like a knife."
Jacob's bearded face appeared again, and he roused the trappers with
no gentle hand. They sprang to their feet, rubbed the sleep from
their eyes, and prepared to depart. Ten minutes later saw them all
filing from the fort, all save two who were to act as guard. They were
dressed in their usual hunting costumes, under which all wore the
thickest and warmest garments that they could procure for otherwise
they could never have endured such exposure. And now, in addition,
each had an Indian blanket wrapped round him, while an eagle's crest
was secured to the warm fur caps which all wore.
"We shall pass," said Steve, as he inspected his comrades in the
firelight. "Now, one word more before we go. This must be the work of
one man to-night. We shall be spread out over the ice, and should the
Frenchman come, he will probably be seen by one only of our number.
That one must pounce upon him promptly. Come along."
He turned to the doorway and went out, the band following close upon
his heels. It was snowing outside, but not so hard as it did on the
day when the Indians and French attacked them. It was, in fact, just
the night that a man would choose for an expedition such as that of
meeting a rascal from the British force, and buying information from
him, for the snow would act as an excellent cloak, while it was not
so thick as to prevent a man from making progress in it. Then again,
though the wind was cold, it was not blowing strongly, and what there
was came from the south.
Steve stepped over the snow wall which had been left in front of the
fort, and gaining the steep slope beyond it, promptly slid down, his
snowshoes scattering the white particles in a fine spray on either
side. One by one the band followed, floundering down to the bottom.
Then they moved off in single file, and very soon had plunged into
the depths of the silent forest. Three miles took them to the bank of
Lake St. George, when they struck out on to the ice, here clear of
snow, for the wind had been in the opposite direction, and had swept
it away. Their faces were now turned to the north, and they kept on in
that direction for half an hour. Then Steve halted. It was still very
dark, and snowing a little. But all were glad to find that the forest,
which clad the point below them, sheltered them from the keen wind,
and that it was considerably warmer.
"We will spread now," said Steve. "If you find that you are getting
cold, swing your arms round your head. Don't beat them against your
sides, for the sound would carry."
"It air likely, too, that some of the boys will fall asleep with
this cold and standin' still," whispered Jim. "Steve, supposin' yer
order the men to beat up and down past one another. That'll keep 'em
lively, and it'll make it more sartin that no one can get through."
There were twelve in all, and their young leader at once adopted the
suggestion.
"We'll divide again into two parties," he said. "Jim, you will have
command of the five out farthest, making with yourself six. I'll
command the other half. We will spread out for a quarter of a mile
from this bank, you posting yourself at the farthest point. The men
will be at intervals of about forty yards, and as soon as they are in
position they will commence to beat to and fro, each couple exchanging
places. In that way the ground will be thoroughly patrolled.
Understand?"
"Right, Cap'n."
"Then take your men. This fellow may be along at any moment."
Within ten minutes the twelve watchers were in position, and for four
long and weary hours the men continued to patrol the snow-covered
ice. But trappers were used to such work, and made light of the
exposure, though the wind was so cold, even here in the shelter, that
untrained men would quickly have succumbed. However, Jim's idea helped
not a little, for the men patrolled backwards and forwards without
cessation, walking at a brisk pace, which kept their blood circulating
and their extremities warm. And as they watched, the snow still fell
silently and gently, sometimes almost ceasing altogether. The sky
overhead was still overcast, but not so much as before, and that added
to the reflection from this vast expanse of white made it possible for
all the men to see a few yards in all directions, and to retain their
relative positions. A deathly silence hung over the lake, broken only
by an occasional crash, as the wind sent a mass of snow tumbling from
the trees in the forest. Then the sound would reverberate down the
long expanse of ice, and go rolling away to the mountains far beyond.
"It looks as if we were going to be disappointed, Jim," said Steve,
as he walked along the line to speak to the hunter. We have been in
position four solid hours, and have seen nothing."
"Which don't say as there ain't nothin' to be seen, Cap'n," was the
answer. "I reckon it's somewhere's about three in the mornin', and a
good hour for this feller to be returnin'. P'raps he slipped past here
before we turned out of the fort. He may have made so far through the
forest, and then dropped on to the ice when the snow commenced. Give
him another two hours, and then we may as well get back to the fort
and curl up in front of the fire. It's cold here. Them chaps down at
Fort William Henry would ha' been asleep or frozen long ago."
They separated again, and another half hour passed without
interruption. Then, suddenly, from the lower end of the lake there
came a shout, then a second, and almost immediately afterwards the
report of a rifle, heard very clearly at that distance, for the ice
acted as a sounding-board. At once all was excitement amongst the
waiting trappers. They lifted their coon-skin caps so as to make sure
that they would hear even the slightest sound, and ranged up and down
at an even faster pace. They were on the qui vive, and determined to
catch anyone who attempted to pass them.
"Chances air that Pete and the other boys have come upon the meeting
of these varmint," said Jim, as he drew close to Steve. "They've
likely as not shot one of 'em, and will be followin' the other.
Supposin' we extend a little."
The movement was carried out promptly, Steve stationing himself on the
far extremity of the line. An hour later, when the excitement had died
down and the trappers were beginning to murmur that there was little
use in staying, for the man, if he actually existed, must have already
passed, or have been shot lower down the lake, Steve thought he caught
sight of a figure flitting across the snow quite a distance out on the
lake. He could not be certain, but as it would not do to miss even
a chance, he hurriedly set off in the direction, trusting that the
trapper stationed next to him would be careful to notice that he had
gone, and would follow on his traces. Dashing ahead at his fastest
pace, it was not long before he came upon the marks of snowshoes, and,
thanks to the increased light out there on the lake, made sure that
two men had passed. Then he set off after them, sweeping over the snow
at a rate which would have taxed the endurance of an Indian, for
Steve was an old hand with snowshoes. A quarter of an hour later he
again caught sight of a figure, and within a few minutes made out a
second, in advance of the first. The time for action had arrived. He
took one swift glance behind him, and thought he saw the dull outline
of one of the trappers following in his wake. Then he started forward
again, and soon was within easy distance of the last of the figures.
"Halt, there!" he shouted, as he lifted his musket to his shoulder.
"Throw your hands up, both of you, and return at once."
There was an exclamation, a shout of alarm, and almost instantly the
two men threw themselves on their faces in the snow. Then there was a
short interval, followed by the loud report of a musket. A splash of
flame illumined the darkness, while a leaden ball raced past Steve's
head, and went humming into the distance. He was down in an instant,
and having waited to make sure of the position of the enemy, he took
careful aim and fired. Instantly there was a loud scream, one of the
dark figures started up, staggered, and fell again, to roll over and
over in the snow. Then something else happened. A dozen shots were
fired from a spot some little distance to the right, while Indian
war-whoops broke on the air.
"They must have had friends waiting for them," thought Steve, as he
busily reloaded. "Where is Jim? He and the men should be here by now.
Ah! That must be their fire."
[Illustration: "WHEN HE CAME TO HIMSELF AGAIN HE WAS BEING CARRIED ON
THE SHOULDERS OF FOUR INDIANS"]
He swung round suddenly, for more shots had rung out behind him,
shots which he made sure came from the muskets of his friends. But
in a moment he found that he was mistaken. A series of loud reports
answered the last discharge, and the flashes told him that the muskets
were aimed in his direction.
"Surrounded! The Indians have got between me and my friends," thought
Steve. "I must creep away, and make the best of a bad position."
He knelt up stealthily, saw no one in his immediate neighbourhood, and
commenced to creep on hands and knees. But he was not allowed to go
very far, for one of the two dusky figures which he had been following
rose at once, and strode back a few paces. There was the loud ring of
a ramrod as the man drove in a bullet, and then came the report, the
crash of which rang in Steve's ears. Stars flashed in front of his
eyes, and the snow over which he was creeping turned to a blood-red
hue. He fell all of a heap, and lay there for some few seconds, while
the shouts of the combatants rang in his ears. Then he revived a
little, staggered to his feet and fell again, this time with a crash
which left him senseless. When he came to himself again he was being
carried on the shoulders of four Indians, the snow had ceased, and the
lights which twinkled in the distance were those of Ticonderoga. Steve
was a prisoner.