CHAPTER XIII

"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 coöperating 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

"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.

"Aye, we'll make Tandakora think all the spirits of earth and air are after him," said Willet.

They now moved with great caution as the trail was growing quite fresh.

"We will soon be back to Sharp Sword's line of march," said Tayoga, "and I think we will find Tandakora and his warriors lying in the bushes not more than a mile ahead."

They redoubled their caution, and, when they approached a dense thicket, Robert and Willet lay down and Tayoga went on, creeping on hands and knees. In a half hour he came back and said that Tandakora and his band were in the thicket watching the great trail left by St. Luc.

"The Ojibway does not dream that he himself is being watched," said the Onondaga, "and now I think we would better eat a little food from our knapsacks and wait until the dark night that is promised has fully come."

Tayoga's report was wholly true. Tandakora and twenty fierce warriors lay in the thicket, waiting to fall upon those who might follow the trail of St. Luc. He had no doubt that a force of some kind would come. The Bostonnais and the English always followed a retreating enemy, and experience never kept them from walking into an ambush. Tandakora was already counting the scalps he would take, and his savage heart was filled with delight. He had been aghast when Bourlamaque abandoned Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Throughout the region over which he had been roaming for three or four years the Bostonnais would be triumphant. Andiatarocte and Oneadatote would pass into their possession forever. The Ojibway chief belonged far to the westward, to the west of the Great Lakes, but the great war had called him, like so many others of the savage tribes, into the east, and he had been there so long that he had grown to look upon the country as his own, or at least held by him and his like in partnership with the French, a belief confirmed by the great victories at Duquesne and Oswego, William Henry and Ticonderoga.

Now Tandakora's whole world was overthrown. The French were withdrawing into Canada. St. Luc, whom he did not like, but whom he knew to be a great warrior, was retreating in haste, and the invincible Montcalm was beleaguered in Quebec. He would have to go too, but he meant to take scalps with him. Bostonnais were sure to appear on the trail, and they would come in the night, pursuing St. Luc. It was a good night for such work as his, heavy with clouds and very dark. He would creep close and strike before his presence was even suspected.

Tandakora lay quiet with his warriors, while night came and its darkness grew, and he listened for the sound of men on the trail. Instead he heard the weird, desolate cry of an owl to his left, and then the equally lone and desolate cry of another to his right. But the warriors still lay quiet. They had heard owls often and were not afraid of them. Then the cry came from the north, and now it was repeated from the south. There was a surfeit of owls, very much too many of them, and they called to one another too much. Tandakora did not like it. It was almost like a visitation of evil spirits. Those weird, long-drawn cries, singularly piercing on a still night, were bad omens. Some of his warriors stirred and became uneasy, but Tandakora quieted them sternly and promised that the Bostonnais would soon be along. Hope aroused again, the men plucked up courage and resumed their patient waiting.

Then the cry of the panther, long drawn, wailing like the shriek of a woman, came from the east and the west, and presently from the north and the south also, followed soon by the dreadful hooting of the owls, and then by the fierce growls of the bear. Tandakora, in spite of himself, in spite of his undoubted courage, in spite of his vast experience in the forest, shuddered. The darkness was certainly full of wicked spirits, and they were seeking prey. So many owls and bears and panthers could not be abroad at once in a circle about him. But Tandakora shook himself and resolved to stand fast. He encouraged his warriors, who were already showing signs of fright, and refused to let any one go.

But the forest chorus grew. Tandakora heard the gobble of the wild turkey as he used to hear it in his native west, only he was sure that the gobble now was made by a spirit and not by a real turkey. Then the owl hooted, the panther shrieked and the bear growled. The cry of a moose, not any moose at all, as Tandakora well knew, but the foul emanation of a wicked spirit, came, merely to be succeeded by the weird cries of night birds which the Ojibway chief had never seen, and of which he had never dreamed. He knew, though, that they must be hideous, misshapen creatures. But he still stood fast, although all of his warriors were eager to go, and the demon chorus came nearer and nearer, multiplying its cries, and adding to the strange notes of birds the equally strange notes of animals, worse even than the growl of bear or shriek of panther.

Tandakora knew now that the wicked spirits of earth and air were abroad in greater numbers than he had ever known before. They fairly swarmed all about him and his warriors, continually coming closer and closer and making dire threats. The night was particularly suited to them. The heavy black clouds floating before the moon and stars were met by thick mists and vapors that fairly oozed out of the damp earth. It was an evil night, full of spells and magic, and the moment came when the chief wished he was in his own hunting grounds far to the west by the greatest of the Great Lakes.

The darkness was not too great for him to see several of his warriors trembling and he rebuked them fiercely, though his own nerves, tough as they were, were becoming frayed and uneasy. He forgot to watch the trail and listen for the sound of footsteps. All his attention was centered upon that horrible and circling chorus of sound. The Bostonnais might come and pass and he would not see them. He went into the forest a little way, trying to persuade himself that they were really persecuted by animals. He would find one of these annoying panthers or bears and shoot it, or he would not even hesitate to send a bullet through an owl on a bough, but he saw nothing, and, as he went back to his warriors, a hideous snapping and barking of wolves followed him.

The note of the wolf had not been present hitherto in the demon chorus, but now it predominated. What it lacked in the earliness of coming it made up in the vigor of arrival. It had in it all the human qualities, that is, the wicked or menacing ones—hunger, derision, revenge, desire for blood and threat of death. Tandakora, veteran of a hundred battles, one of the fiercest warriors that ever ranged the woods, shook. His blood turned to water, ice water at that, and the bones of his gigantic frame seemed to crumble. He knew, as all the Indians knew, that the souls of dead warriors, usually those who had been wicked in life, dwelled for a while in the bodies of animals, preferably those of wolves, and the wolves about him were certainly inhabited by the worst warriors that had ever lived. In every growl and snap and bark there was a threat. He could hear it, and he knew it was meant for him. But what he feared most of all was the deadly whine with which growl, snap and bark alike ended. Perspiration stood out on his face, but he could not afford to show fear to his men, and, retreating slowly, he rejoined them. He would make no more explorations in the haunted wood that lay all about them.

As the chief went back to his men the snarling and snapping of the demon wolves distinctly expressed laughter, derision of the most sinister kind. They were not only threatening him, they were laughing at him, and his bones continued to crumble through sheer weakness and fear. It was not worth while for him to fire at any of the sounds. The bullet might go through a wolf, but it would not hurt him, it would merely increase his ferocity and make him all the more hungry for the blood of Tandakora.

The band pressed close together as the wolves growled and snapped all about them, but the warriors still saw nothing. How could they see anything when such wolves had the power of making themselves invisible? But their claws would tear and their teeth would rend just the same when they sprang upon their victims, and now they were coming so close that they might make a spring, the prodigious kind of spring that a demon wolf could make.

It was more than Tandakora and his warriors could stand. Human beings, white or red, they would fight, but not the wicked and powerful spirits of earth and air which were now closing down upon them. The chief could resist no longer. He uttered a great howl of fear, which was taken up and repeated in a huge chorus by his warriors. Then, and by the same impulse, they burst from the thicket, rushed into St. Luc's trail and sped northward at an amazing pace.

Tayoga, Willet and Robert emerged from the woods, lay down in the trail and panted for breath.

"Well, that's the easiest victory we ever gained," said Robert. "Even easier than one somewhat like it that I won on the island."

"I don't know about that," gasped Willet. "It's hard work being an owl and a bear and a panther and a wolf and trying, too, to be in three or four places at the same time. I worked hardest as a wolf toward the last; every muscle in me is tired, and I think my throat is the most tired of all. I must lie by for a day."

"Great Bear is a splendid animal," said Tayoga in his precise, book English, "nor is he wanting as a bird, either. I think he turned himself into birds that were never seen in this world, and they were very dreadful birds, too. But he excelled most as a wolf. His growling and snapping and whining were better than that of ninety-nine out of a hundred wolves, only a master wolf could have equaled it, and when I stood beside him I was often in fear lest he turn and tear me to pieces with tooth and claw."

"Tandakora was in mortal terror," said Robert, who was not as tired as the others, who had done most of the work in the demon chorus. "I caught a glimpse of his big back, and I don't think I ever saw anybody run faster. He'll not stop this side of the St. Lawrence, and you'll have to postpone your vengeance a while, Tayoga."

"I could have shot him down as he stood in the woods, shaking with fear," said the Onondaga, "but that never would have done. That would have spoiled our plan, and I must wait, as you say, Dagaeoga, to settle the score with the Ojibway."

"I think we'd better go into the bushes and sleep," said the hunter. "Being a demon is hard work, and there is no further danger from the warriors."

But Robert, who was comparatively fresh, insisted on keeping the watch, and the other two, lying down on their blankets, were soon in deep slumber. The next day they shot a young bear, and had a feast in the woods, a reward to which they thought themselves entitled after the great and inspired effort they had made the night before. As they sat around their cooking fire, eating the juicy steaks, they planned how they should enter Canada and join Wolfe, still keeping their independence as scouts and skirmishers.

"Most of the country around the city is held by the English, or at least they overrun it from time to time," said Willet, "and we ought to get past the French villages in a single night. Then we can join whatever part of the force we wish. I think it likely that we can be of most use with the New England rangers, who are doing a lot of the scouting and skirmishing for Wolfe."

"But I want to see the Royal Americans first," said Robert. "I heard in Boston that Colden, Wilton, Carson, Stuart and Cabell had gone on with them, and I know that Grosvenor is there with his regiment. I should like to see them all again."

"And so would I," said the hunter. "A lot of fine lads. I hope that all of them will come through the campaign alive."

They traveled the whole of the following night and remained in the forest through the day, and following this plan they arrived before Quebec without adventure, finding the army of Wolfe posted along the St. Lawrence, his fleet commanding the river, but the army of Montcalm holding Quebec and all the French elated over the victory of the Montmorency River. Robert went at once to the camp of the Royal Americans, where Colden was the first of his friends whom he saw. The Philadelphian, like all the others, was astounded and delighted.

"Lennox!" he exclaimed, grasping his hand. "I heard that you were dead, killed by a spy named Garay, and your body thrown into the Hudson, where it was lost! Now, I know that reports are generally lies! And you're no ghost. 'Tis a solid hand that I hold in mine!"

"I'm no ghost, though I did vanish from the world for a while," said Robert. "But, as you see, I've come back and I mean to have a part in the taking of Quebec."

Wilton and Carson, Stuart and Cabell soon came, and then Grosvenor, and every one in his turn welcomed Robert back from the dead, after which he gave to them collectively a rapid outline of his story.

"'Tis a strange tale, a romance," said Grosvenor. "It's evident that it's not intended you shall lose your life in this war, Lennox. What has become of that wonderful Onondaga Indian, Tayoga, and the great hunter, Willet?"

"They're both here. You shall see them before the day is over. But what is the feeling in the army?"

"We're depressed and the French are elated. It's because we lost the Montmorency battle. The Royal Americans and the Grenadiers were too impulsive. We tried to rush slopes damp and slippery from rain, and we were cut up. I received a wound there, and so did Wilton, but neither amounts to anything, and I want to tell you, Lennox, that, although we're depressed, we're not withdrawing. Our general is sick a good deal, but the sicker he grows the braver he grows. We hang on. The French say we can continue hanging on, and then the winter will drive us away. You know what the Quebec winter is. But we'll see. Maybe something will happen before winter comes."

As Robert turned away from the little group he came face to face with a tall young officer dressed with scrupulousness and very careful of his dignity.

"Charteris!"[A] he exclaimed.

"Lennox!"

They shook hands with the greatest surprise and pleasure.

"When I last saw you at Ticonderoga you were a prisoner of the French," said Robert.

"And so were you."

"But I escaped in a day or two."

"I escaped also, though not in a day or two. I was held a prisoner in Quebec all through the winter and spring and much befell me, but at last I escaped to General Wolfe and rejoined my old command, the Royal Americans."

"And he took part in the battle of Montmorency, a brave part too," said Colden.

"No braver than the others. No more than you yourself, Colden," protested Charteris.

"And 'tis said that, though he left Quebec in the night, he left his heart there in the possession of a very lovely lady who speaks French better than she speaks English," said Colden.

"'Tis not a subject of which you have definite information," rejoined Charteris, flushing very red and then laughing.

But Colden, suspecting that his jest was truth rather, had too much delicacy to pursue the subject. Later in the day Robert returned with Willet and Tayoga and they had a reunion.

"When we take Quebec," said Tayoga to Grosvenor, "Red Coat must go back with us into the wilderness and learn to become a great warrior. We can go beyond the Great Lakes and stay two or three years."

"I wish I could," laughed Grosvenor, "but that is one of the things I must deny myself. If the war should be finished, I shall have to return to England."

"St. Luc is in Quebec," said Willet. "We followed his trail a long distance."

"Which means that our task here will be the harder," said Colden.

Robert went with Willet, Charteris and Tayoga the next day to Monckton's camp at Point Levis, whence the English batteries had poured destruction upon the lower town of Quebec, firing across the St. Lawrence, that most magnificent of all rivers, where its channel was narrow. He could see the houses lying in ashes or ruins, but above them the French flag floated defiantly over the upper city.

"Montcalm and his lieutenants made great preparations to receive General Wolfe," said Charteris. "As I was in Quebec then, I know something about them, and I've learned more since I escaped. They threw up earthworks, bastions and redoubts almost all the way from Quebec to Montcalm's camp at Beauport. Over there at Beauport the Marquis' first headquarters were located in a big stone house. Across the mouth of the St. Charles they put a great boom of logs, fastened together by chains, and strengthened further by two cut-down ships on which they mounted batteries. Forces passing between the city and the Beauport camp crossed the St. Charles on a bridge of boats, and each entrance of the bridge was guarded by earthworks. In the city they closed and fortified every gate, except the Palace Gate, through which they passed to the bridge or from it. They had more than a hundred cannon on the walls, a floating battery carried twelve more guns, and big ones too, and they had a lot of gun-boats and fire ships and fire rafts. They gathered about fifteen thousand men in the Beauport camp, besides Indians, with the regulars in the center, and the militia on the flank. In addition to these there were a couple of thousand in the city itself under De Ramesay, and I think Montcalm had, all told, near to twenty thousand men, about double our force, though 'tis true many of theirs are militia and we have a powerful fleet. I suppose their numbers have not decreased, and it's a great task we've undertaken, though I think we'll achieve it."

Robert looked again and with great emotion upon Quebec, that heart and soul of the French power in North America. Truly much water had flowed down the St. Lawrence since he was there before. He could not forget the thrill with which he had first approached it, nor could he forget those gallant young Frenchmen who had given him a welcome, although he was already, in effect, an official enemy. And then, too, he had seen Bigot, Péan, Cadet and their corrupt group who were doing so much to wreck the fortunes of New France. Not all the valor of Montcalm, De Levis, Bourlamaque, St. Luc and the others could stay the work of their destructive hands.

The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small. It was true! The years had passed. The French victories in North America had been numerous. Again and again they had hurled back the English and Americans, and year after year they had dammed the flood. They had struck terrible blows at Duquesne and Oswego, at William Henry and at Ticonderoga. But the mills of God ground on, and here at last was the might of Britain before Quebec, and Robert's heart, loyal as he was to the mother country, always throbbed with pride when he recalled that his own Americans were there too, the New England rangers and the staunch regiment of Royal Americans, the bravest of the brave, who had already given so much of their blood at Montmorency. In these world-shaking events the Americans played their splendid part beside their English kin, as they were destined to do one hundred and fifty-nine years later upon the soil of Europe itself, closing up forever, as most of us hope, the cleavage between nations of the same language and same ideals.

Robert looked long at Quebec on its heights, gleaming now in the sun which turned it into a magic city, increasing its size, heightening the splendor of the buildings and heightening, too, the formidable obstacles over which Wolfe must prevail. Nature here had done wonders for the defense. With its mighty river and mighty cliffs it seemed that a capable general and a capable army could hold the city forever.