one. "These Indians are either completely out of control, and far too eager even for our hot bloods, or they are sulky and will not stir a finger. Let the dog sit and smoke."

They moved away in none of the best tempers, for these trappers and the French in general were more than beginning to see that the price they had to pay for the use of their numerous tribes of ruthless savages would prove heavy in the end. Already they knew that it had roused the British from their apathy. There were tales even then in Quebec that the backwoodsman and the regular who fought for England had a new battle cry, that bayonets were more vengeful and terrible than ever before.

A week later the hue and cry had died down, and the party made ready to escape. Flying Bird sauntered off towards Quebec early in the morning, his musket over his shoulder, and a fishing line strung to his belt. Entering a canoe down by the stage, he paddled out into the river, rounded the promontory to the west of Quebec, and sent his craft along parallel to the steep cliff, at the top of which lay the Plains of Abraham. His comrades above saw him occasionally, for he had paddled to the far shore, and was diligently fishing. He was there at dusk, and those who had the curiosity to look at him from the city saw that he was pulling up his line and preparing to return home.

"It will be dark by the time he is over this side of the river," said Steve's father, "and by that time we shall be near him. You can find this trail, Silver Fox?"

"On the darkest night, Chief."

"Then we will go. Pick up your traps, boys."

The party filed out of the wigwam, leaving their late home standing, and, with the Indian leading, strode off towards the edge of the cliff. Steve had been decked as a Huron, and he took his place third in the line. They reached the edge, and without the smallest hesitation the Indian chief scrambled over it.

"Be careful, brothers," he cautioned them. "The way is steep. A fall would end in death."

One by one in quick succession they lowered themselves over the edge, and gripping boulders and grass and the roots of bushes, finally reached the bank below. The canoe was there, and they stepped into it silently. Jim pushed off from the shore, and in a little while they were shooting down the centre of the river, hidden in the darkness, from which they watched a hundred and more twinkling lights which glimmered from the windows of the fairy city of Quebec.

Chapter XVII
Down the Mighty St. Lawrence

"We ain't out er the wood by no means," said Jim, when the canoe had shot past the city and had lost the lights behind a promontory of the Isle of Orleans, "cos there's the journey back. Judge thinks as we'd best make down stream for the sea, and cut out to Halifax or some other place, wherever our chaps may be. There's talk of an expedition to Louisbourg, and, of course, that's somewheres at the mouth of the river. Now, ef it was me alone——"

"You'd make up stream, or even enter the Richelieu," burst in Mr. Mainwaring, "and for the simple reason that you have never even seen the ocean, nor even a big ship. You are at home in the forest, and feel that you could more surely reach friends in that way."

"Thet's the case, Judge, in a nutshell."

"But I happen to know that the forests south of this are swarming with Indians. We had the utmost difficulty in making to the north, and we have to remember that the escape of the prisoner will within a couple of days be associated with the disappearance of the band of Hurons. That will rouse the French, and they will send urgent messages down to the neighbourhood of Ticonderoga. No, my friends, I have good reason to know that Frontenac is almost deserted at this moment, so that we might escape that way. Even then there would be a very long strip of forest to traverse, and many enemies in it. The mouth of the river is our easiest way, for once clear of the neighbourhood and safe on a suitable vessel, no one can catch us. And French vessels down the stream will be deceived by our hoisting a French flag, while the mouth itself is patrolled by our fleet."

Mr. Mainwaring had, in fact, supplied himself with all the available information before venturing on this hazardous journey to Quebec, for an intelligent man, such as he was, knew very well that such an expedition was fraught with much danger, and that if not carefully planned in every detail, it would very likely end in disaster. The reader will remember that Pitt had come into power, and that one of the chief items of his programme against the French was to be an attack on the formidable fort of Louisbourg. Our ships were on the way there from Halifax already, and it was clear that safety lay in that direction for Steve and his friends if only they could descend the river.

"I can see that it will be easier to make down by the water than to march miles and miles through the forest, scouting every foot of the way," Steve said. "What about a suitable boat, father? We shall want something bigger than this canoe, for this would never live down at the mouth. I understand that it is like an open sea there, and that it is often very rough."

"It is swept by sudden gales, even in the summer," was the answer. "As for a boat to take us to our friends, there is one lying down at the tail of this island, and just within sight of Quebec. She lies, I should say, eight or ten miles from the city, so that any commotion aboard will not be seen or heard. That is the vessel we are going to capture, Steve. How we are going to do it is another matter. We must discuss that. Meanwhile we shall paddle down beside the island till about a mile from the end, and there we shall tie up."

Accordingly the paddles were kept moving gently, for the stream was strong here, and it was hardly necessary to urge the canoe along. Half an hour later the signal was given, and they turned the nose of the bark canoe into the bank, and Silver Fox made her fast there to some overhanging branches.

"Guess we can put in a sleep," said Jim, yawning widely. "The nights are getting very short now, so it won't be long before we are up and doin'. Who'll take the watch?"

"I will," answered Steve promptly. "Turn in all of you and sleep. I will rouse you an hour before it is light. By the way, shall we settle this question of the capture of the boat to-morrow?"

"Onless you've got somethin' fixed already, Cap'n. Blest ef you ain't now. I knows that by yer voice. Spout it out, boy, and let's know what it is. He was always like this when cap'n of the band, Judge. Kind er suggestin' a discussion when he'd got the hul thing settled in his own mind. Spin it out, Steve."

"There is nothing in it, only I thought we had better settle the matter now. We shall be dull and sleepy in the early morning. I fancy our best plan is to be that Huron party out fishing. There are plenty of Indian canoes about on the river every day, and often enough the men are fishing. We can do the same, and gradually drift down to the boat. But have we lines aboard?"

"You bet. There's half a dozen in Flyin' Bird's pouch."

"Then I will bait a couple now and fish. We must have a few fish with us, and when we get opposite the boat we will offer some to the men aboard. Thus we shall have an excuse for hanging on to the boat, and a couple can clamber aboard. If the rest of us cannot do the same—-"

"You've said enough, Steve, so you have," cried Mac, opening his capacious mouth for the first time for many an hour. "If others cannot follow, why, me name's not Mac. Sure, we'll be rhunnin' over the decks afore you can count yer fingers."

"Then pass the lines and get to sleep."

Steve sat in the centre of the canoe while the hours of darkness passed. On either side of him sprawled his companions, lying packed as closely as possible, for a bark canoe is never of great dimensions, and though this was a large one, it gave little room for men who wished to sleep. In addition, a craft of this sort was very liable to capsize, particularly when manned by novices. But Steve and his friends had learned to manage these canoes when they were very young, and could move about in them, spear fish over the side, and even sleep in them with the utmost security.

Almost before he was prepared for it, Steve saw a streak of white break across the black sky towards the east, and knew that dawn would not be long in coming. In half an hour it was beginning to get light, and he at once roused his companions.

"Time's up," he called out softly. "Rouse yourselves and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Now, I vote for a meal before we start. Then, if there is trouble, we shall be able to struggle on for a long while without wanting food."

They followed his advice with eagerness, for the night's adventure had sharpened their appetites. But very soon the meal was ended, and there being nothing further to wait for, they cast off from the branches, paddled well out into the river, and then, taking in their paddles, drifted down the stream, each one of the party, with the exception of Jim, who steered with the tip of his paddle, having a line overboard.

"There yer air," he said some minutes later. "Best not look all together, lest they should get suspicious. Thar's the boat, boys, and a bonny one she seems. I reckon she's ten times bigger'n this."

"Forty times," answered Mr. Mainwaring. "She is quite a large craft, and not far short of eighty tons. If so, there are few of larger size that ever venture up the river. That is a peculiarity about the French. I believe they have seldom brought a boat of more than a hundred tons up to Quebec. And yet there must be sufficient water, though there are shoals here and there, and the passage is considered dangerous. She will suit us well, boys. In a little while we shall be exchanging our rôle of Huron Indians for that of a sailor. Lucky it is for us all that one of our numbers has sailed a boat before."

"We ain't aboard yet, Judge," said Jim, rather suddenly. "Steve, you've lived a year in these parts. What do yer make of them critters away over thar under the island? You others keep on fishin'. 'Twon't do to seem curious."

Steve raised his head slowly, drew in his line, and threw it out from the other side of the canoe. The movement gave him the opportunity of looking in the direction Jim had indicated, where he saw a large ship's boat pulling out from the tail end of the island. She was manned by six sailors, and swept through the water at a rapid pace. In addition, the white coats of four passengers proclaimed that they were regulars from the French garrison, while an equal number of Indians crouched by the thwarts. In the stern sat a man who was huddled in a cloak, for the early morning was chilly.

"I should say that she is a patrol, probably ordered to search all vessels and boats which come south of the island. Perhaps her crew have directions to turn all back who come so far. I don't like the look of those fellows, but we must not appear to be alarmed. Go on fishing, all of you, and just see that your muskets are handy. Flying Bird, be ready to answer them."

He addressed the Indian in Mohawk, and then tossed his line again, pulling up a fish a moment or two later quite coolly and leisurely. Meanwhile his comrades went on with their fishing, without even turning their heads, for they were one and all trained men, who knew by experience that the simple turning of a head was sometimes sufficient to cause suspicion. They betrayed not the slightest curiosity, but pulled in their fish or rebaited their hooks with wonderful unconcern. Jim still steered the canoe languidly, glancing now and again at the strangers, while Steve was able to keep his eyes on them without appearing to do so.

"They are making direct for us," he said suddenly. "I will turn round for fear that they might recognise me. I was a prisoner so long, and quite free to move about that the majority of the troops in Quebec know me."

Suiting the action to the word, he swung round and dropped his line in on the far side. Presently a hail came over the water, while the splash of paddles could be heard.

"Ef they order us back, why, we've got to obey," said Jim. "Better to please 'em and put the critters off the scent than to run our heads against a wall. Let the beggars sing out again before you answer them."

Flying Bird nodded curtly, for he had picked up a deal of English, and could understand the drift of the conversation. He went on fishing calmly, without even turning his head, till they were hailed again, this time in the Indian language.

"Hi! Put about there and wait till we come up with you. Who are you, and where are you from?"

In a little while the boat came seething alongside, where she lay, held by an occasional stroke of the oars, while the man in the stern repeated his questions. Steve did not dare to steal so much as a look at him, while Jim suddenly ducked his head and turned, so that the Frenchman could not see his face. For once again Jules Lapon's voice was heard. Once again had this odious Frenchman come upon the scene when least desired, and at the most inopportune moment. It was he without a doubt, more sallow than of yore, his overbearing manners almost as openly displayed as on the last occasion when Steve had faced him.

"Where from, and who are you, Indians?" he demanded curtly, in the Huron tongue. "We have orders to search all who come this way, and to send them back if they have no good reason for coming."

"The chief can see what our business is," answered Flying Bird steadily. "Does the Frenchman wish to be assured that these are fish?"—and he held up one of their catch—"or does he suspect us of other business? As to who we are, this is a party of Hurons from the south country. We are awaiting a palaver with your big chief. That is all."

He baited his hook and tossed it into the river, turning away at once and ignoring the Frenchman. But Jules was a man of keen perception, and possessed of a suspicious mind. Unknown to Steve, he had recently come to Quebec to take up some duty there, and had almost instantly heard of the escape of the prisoner whom he had cruelly ordered to be executed down at Ticonderoga. A backwoodsman, such as he was, knew the difficulties with which a fugitive would have to contend, and he had at once assured himself that Steve must have friends who were helping him, and that in place of making away from the neighbourhood of the city at once, he was probably in hiding close at hand, awaiting a favourable opportunity to escape.

"And this is just the party to help him," he said to himself as he stared at the occupants of the canoe. "I will not let him slip through my fingers if he is here. We will go a little closer, and then have a look at the far side. It is distinctly suspicious that they should have their faces turned away."

Very slowly the big boat was rowed past the canoe till she was above her. Then she dropped down again, and drifted past while Jules Lapon, standing at the tiller, and still wrapped in his cloak, carefully scrutinized the painted faces before him. Jim's angular features he passed without a second look, while Mac stared back at the Frenchman with a boldness and an impudence which had the desired effect. He went on to Steve, found nothing suspicious in his open face, and passing Pete, Silver Fox, and Flying Bird in turn, came at length to Mr. Mainwaring. Something in the strong face and in the huge build of this brave seemed to strike him. He gave an exclamation, and, bending forward, looked closer. Then his sallow cheeks were suddenly suffused, he bent forward to take a closer view, swept his eyes along the occupants of the canoe again, and stopped when he came to Steve.

"The prisoner," he shouted at the top of his voice. "Hurrah! I have found him as I had hoped to do. Cover them with your muskets. Drop those paddles and sit upright or we will fire."

Jules had indeed made a discovery of the utmost importance. But he was a man who always found it hard to curb his passions or his impetuosity. Had he done so now, he would first have warned his men that he had made some discovery, and so have had them in readiness. As it was, the four soldiers who sat in the boat did not understand a word of Huron, and had no knowledge of what had passed. They had been on this duty for the past six days, and were heartily tired of it, particularly as this leader of theirs had already treated them to more than one false alarm. They sat half asleep, lolling against the thwarts, by no means pleased to be turned out at such an early hour without their breakfasts. The sudden order took them absolutely by surprise. They had not even powdered the pans of their muskets.

"Peste! Up with your muskets and cover them, fools!" shouted Jules, seeing them hesitate. "I tell you that that is the prisoner. Shoot him down if he moves a muscle."

"You will be good enough to seat yourself, Monsieur Jules. Jim, you are our best shot, and will cover him."

It was Steve's voice which spoke, and at the order the heavy deckard which the trapper carried went to his shoulder, and his eye squinted along the sights.

"Covered," he growled, "and jest you watch it over thar. This here gun's got a way of its own of goin' off sudden. Jest watch it or you'll know why. It's shot many a varmint before, and it won't take long to treat a skunk like you to a bullet."

"Mac, and you, father, and Silver Fox cover the soldiers and the Indians. Now, messieurs, you know me perhaps. I am the prisoner, as this Jules Lapon tells you, I am about to escape, and I advise you to be satisfied with that statement. You,"—and he pointed to one of the men,—"will oblige by throwing your musket overboard. Good! Now your pouch and horn and your bayonet. That is excellent. Your comrades will follow suit."

Long before those in the boat had recovered from their astonishment every musket aboard the canoe was levelled at their heads. And one by one the muskets and bayonets aboard the French boat were tossed overboard, the Indians being compelled to follow the example set them. So far not a shot had been fired, for the band of supposed Hurons had been too quick for their enemies. But if eyes could have fired bullets, then every one of the occupants of the canoe, and in particular Steve and his father, would have been slain by Jules, for this curiously bitter Frenchman glared at them furiously, and finally turned his eyes on Jim. Up till then he had been too excited and too angry to take note of the tall Indian who covered him with his weapon. But now an uncomfortable feeling crept down Jules Lapon's spine. He swore under his breath, tried to stare back at the squinting eye of the man who levelled the sights, and then was suddenly overcome by that strange sensation. His knees shook and his legs doubled up beneath him. He crouched in the stern, his face hidden in his hands, tears, induced partly by sheer terror and partly by mortification, streaming down his cheeks and welling out between his fingers.

"Others has felt like that and weakened," growled Jim, lowering his piece. "There's better men nor you has looked into a gun and felt ill and sick. I've done it myself, and I knows that queer feelin' that you've got. But fer all that I ain't never played the coward like you. A leader's a man as should stand up to the worst, and face everything, so as to show his men he's worth his salt. You ain't. Reckon you're the biggest coward as I ever set eyes on."

The trapper spat derisively into the water, laid down his musket, and commenced to fill his pipe.

"What next, Cap'n?" he asked, a grin on his hard features. "Thar's work to be done. Beg pardon, Judge, but it seems natural like to turn to Steve after being away thar at the hollow with him."

"And you could not do better. Let the lad lead us. I have perfect confidence in him. Steve, what is the next move?"

For a little while there was no answer, for our hero was engaged in looking closely at the boat which they had decided to capture, and then over his shoulder at the river. There was not another boat in sight, while, though he looked very carefully, no one seemed to be stirring aboard the ship.

"We shall want men aboard that boat to manage the sails, for I know nothing of seamanship, and Pete and Mac and Jim are the same. But we are lucky. Here are the very hands we want."

He pointed to the sailors aboard the boat, at the stern of which the discomfited officer sat, and at once a smile broke over the faces of his friends. They saw his meaning in a flash, and the coolness of their old captain amused them.

"Shucks! Ef he ain't the most——"

"Jest the slimmest, 'cutest, cussedest chap as ever you or me set eyes on, Pete," burst in Jim. "No wonder that 'ere Frenchie thar has dug his head into his hands. Reckon it makes him kind er faint to look at him."

"I said that we should need sailors. There they are. Monsieur Jules, you will be good enough to come aboard this canoe and bring your soldiers with you. My men, you have nothing to fear. We are merely about to change places with you."

At a nod from Steve, Jim and Mac dug their paddles into the water, and presently they were alongside the boat. Jim leaped aboard at once, took Jules Lapon by the shoulder with no very gentle hand, and lifted him to his feet as if he were a babe.

"Ef you ain't able to hold yerself up, why, I'll sling yer across to the canoe. Bah! Man, show some spirit. From all accounts yer can be bold and hard enough when things air right and you've got a poor prisoner to deal with. There's the cap'n thar as can tell a yarn about yer."

The exchange of boats took only a few minutes, and very soon the party of Hurons were seated in the one which had belonged to Jules, while that worthy, with his soldiers and his Indians, was crouching in the canoe. They were given a couple of paddles, and were ordered to row up stream.

"If we see you turn, or if you shout, we shall follow," said Steve. "It would be better for you to go quietly back to Quebec."

They watched as the Frenchman and his disconsolate crew paddled away, and soon they were round the bend of the island, prepared to attack the vessel which they hoped would take them to the sea.

"You have nothing to fear," said Steve to the sailors who still manned the oars, "and I promise to set you free as soon as we can get along without your services. How many are aboard the ship?"

"As well make the best of a bad job," came the answer. "There are two only, monsieur, and you can climb aboard as soon as you like. You say that we shall be set free, monsieur?"

"I give you my promise. We shall make this boat fast astern, and tow her down. When you can be spared you shall take the boat and sufficient arms and provisions and go. Is that a bargain?"

"You can count on us, monsieur, and our comrades aboard would prefer such terms to the hard knocks which you are able to give."

A few words passed between the Frenchmen, they smiled at Steve and his friends, and seemed to enter into the spirit of this adventure of theirs as though it was as pleasant to them as service with their own comrades.

"'Tis a poor heart which cannot make light of troubles, monsieur," laughed their spokesman. "A minute ago it seemed that we should be shot. Now we are promised safety, and are commanded by one who speaks kindly to us, and even says 'monsieur' when he gives us an order. That is good. We welcome a change after that ruffian."

By now the boat was very close to the anchored ship, and presently she struck against the counter, and one of the French sailors hung on with a boathook.

"We shall trust you to go aboard and let your comrades know what is happening," said Steve to the spokesman of the sailors. "Otherwise shots might be fired and useless opposition shown. Get aboard, my lad."

"You can come up," shouted the man a little later, appearing at the rail above with two strange faces beside him. "My comrades see the wisdom of behaving quietly, particularly since I took the liberty of promising them what you offered us. Is that correct, monsieur?"

"Perfectly. You will be rewarded also if you behave properly. Now make the boat fast and place yourselves under the orders of monsieur here, who is my father."

It was wonderful to see with what eagerness the French sailors sprang to obey Mr. Mainwaring. For though the huge Englishman was dressed as a Huron, and plentifully daubed with paint, yet he spoke perfect French, and held himself as only a white man could do. But surely never was there a stranger sight than this, a ship commanded by Indians, and worked by pale faces.

"We shall have to make a change, Steve," said his father. "Just hunt out some old clothes from the lockers down below. They will serve a double purpose. We shall be more comfortable, and then, in case of our meeting another ship sailing under French colours, we shall pass all the easier."

That night, as the darkness began to get deeper, the ship was anchored close in to the southern bank, and remained swinging to her cable there till the dawn came again. Then she went on her course again. And so, without incident, the sea was reached, the island now known as Prince Edward Island sighted, and finally the bleak slopes of Cape Breton Island.

"If monsieur would allow us to escape in the boat within the next few hours we could reach our friends in Louisbourg," said the sailor who had spoken for his comrades before. "The wind is fair for us, and we should not have a long pull."

Steve and his friends at once agreed, the boat was pulled alongside, and food and water lowered. Then Mr. Mainwaring presented each of the six sailors with a small sum of money and sent them down to the boat. They pushed off, waved their adieux, and put out their oars. Then the tiller of the big ship was put up again, the sails filled, and she bore away to the far end of the island. Rounding that, and giving the land a wide berth, the party aboard saw a ship stealing along close to the island. At her fore flew the fleur de lis of France, and sighting the boat out in the offing, her head was turned and she came surging out towards Steve and his friends.

"She is a big boat. It would be hard if we were to see the inside of a French prison after all our trouble," smiled Mr. Mainwaring. "But I doubt that she will have the courage to come far, for if my information has been correct, the British fleet must be hereabouts. They have been blockading the mouth of the river since the winter broke up. Ha! Steve, what do I see?"

There was a white dot away in the far distance, a dot which might have been a bird. But it held the same position steadily, except for the fact that it grew gradually bigger, proving that it was a ship approaching. And presently a huge eighty-gun frigate, with the British ensign at her mast-head, came into clear sight and ranged up alongside the captured Frenchman. A gun was fired, and hardly had the boom been heard when a boat dropped from the side of the frigate, a smart naval officer tumbled into it with his crew, and, being joined by another individual, raced across the water. They were alongside in five minutes, and a ladder being lowered the naval officer and his companion came aboard.

"A party of seven. So far so good," exclaimed the officer, running his eye over Steve and his friends. "Is this the ship we were to expect?"

"It is," answered Mr. Mainwaring promptly. "Allow me to introduce the party, general. I am Mr. Mainwaring, though somewhat altered, I fear. And here are my son, Hunting Jim, Mac, Pete, Silver Fox, and Flying Bird, all old friends and staunch companions. I have to thank you for picking us up. My friends, this is General Wolfe."

"Indeed, I fancy the term picking you up hardly meets the case. You seem very well able to look to yourselves, and, if my observation is correct, have been fairly comfortable."

The officer who spoke turned to Mr. Mainwaring, and then shook hands with every one of the party, giving Steve an opportunity of inspecting him closely without seeming to be rude. General Wolfe, whose name was then prominently before the world, was a tall, gaunt man with no other particular feature about him to attract unusual attention, unless it was his hair, which, like Mac's, was decidedly red. He was quiet, reserved, a typical officer and gentleman, and evidently one accustomed to discipline and to be obeyed. Little did Steve think as he watched this brigadier that Wolfe was to be the hero of this conflict with France in Canada, and that he himself was to be closely associated with him in the conquest of that fair city from which he had so recently escaped.

Chapter XVIII
The Attack on Louisbourg

"You have turned up in the very nick of time, gentlemen," said General Wolfe, as he surveyed the party standing before him on the deck of the French vessel. "Our fleet and transports have arrived in these waters, and we are about to attempt a landing on Cape Breton Island. After that we shall lay siege to the fort of Louisbourg. Can I be of service to you in any way?"

He swept his eye over each one of the group, smiling at the strange appearance of Steve and his white friends, for they were now dressed in the rough sailor clothing which they had found aboard, and for the most part looked curious objects. Their paint and feathers had disappeared entirely, but all clung to their fringed hunting shirts, while rough trousers of sailcloth protected their legs, and French sailor hats covered their heads where only a few days before there had been scalp locks and the crests of eagles.

"Come, gentlemen, now that you are free, you have the world to choose from. You can return to England, you can make for your old haunts near Ticonderoga, where I am sure Hawk and his band of scouts will be welcome, or you can remain here and help us a little. Personally, I should be glad if that were your decision, for I am training a number of the men of my brigade to fight in open order, making use of cover as do backwoodsmen. I could not have better instructors than yourselves."

"You can put me down, then, general," sang out Jim, promptly, raising his arm. "Only there's jest one condition of service I bargain for after rations and pay are earned. I fight under my old cap'n. He's here, and he's fit to lead a hul regiment."

"Pay and allowances will be the same as formerly. As to your condition, that can be arranged if Mr. Steve Mainwaring wishes to take up a commission again."

Steve promptly agreed to do so, and within a very few minutes the general had obtained seven valuable recruits for his new regiment.

"You will be able to enter upon your duties almost at once," said the general. "As I said, we are about to attempt a landing. Up to this the sea has been too rough for such an expedition, but there is every sign of its getting calmer, and should it do so, our boats will put out. We will now return to the frigate, where the master-tailor can supply you with suitable clothing, for, after all, I fear that we could not allow you to take your places in our ranks in such dress as you now wear."

He walked to the rope ladder, swung himself down with wonderful agility, and was followed by Steve and his friends and by the naval officer. An order was then given, and the two men at the oars pulled away for the frigate, a couple of sailors being left aboard the captured vessel.

"We have lost a few of our ships since we sailed from Halifax," said the general, "and as I expect that you have no further use for the ship you captured, we will put her into commission at once. There is a permanent Prize Board sitting, and they will inspect her and decide on her value to-day. That money will be yours, gentlemen, for you are the owners."

Some hours later as Steve walked the broad deck of the frigate, he could hardly believe that he had so recently escaped from prison. The days had flown since his father and his old friends came to his rescue, and they had been so filled with incident. He felt strange on this big vessel, and found it difficult to realize that he was again under orders, holding a captain's commission, and about to take part in the conflict between England and France.

"This is a very different affair from those up by Ticonderoga, Steve," said his father, coming up to him. "Look at the force we have; there must be ten thousand men at least. I mean soldiers of course, and am not counting the crews of the ships."

"Of the ships there are nearly two hundred," answered Steve, for he had been busily counting them. Indeed, Mr. Mainwaring might well observe that this was a big affair, for on this sunny June morning those who patrolled the deck of the frigate could see numerous ships of war, sloops, frigates, and transports, all cruising backwards and forwards off Cape Breton Island. Boscawen, "Old Dreadnought," was the admiral in command, and his fleet had only recently reached Halifax, where he had picked up the vessels remaining there, and had brought them on with him. Amherst, whom the reader will recollect, was in command of the troops, had now some twelve thousand men aboard the ships and transports, for on his arrival at Halifax he had strengthened his own force with the troops taken to this port by the Earl of Loudon in the previous year. Nor had he a single regiment too many, for the task before him was a formidable one.

Louisbourg, like Quebec, may be said to have been the stronghold of the military, while, owing to its excellent harbour, it was also a rendezvous for the French fleets. It consisted of private residences, churches, and innumerable barracks and forts. In fact, it was a vast fort, constructed at huge expense and pains, and designed by the very best engineers of France. Seen from the edge of the harbour, its most prominent features were the king's bastion and barracks, the hospital, and the Recollects church nestling under the walls of the former. There were fish stages and wharves, for Louisbourg was occupied by a large number of men who looked to the sea for their living. In all there were some four thousand inhabitants at this period, and these consisted of the fisher folk above mentioned, of numerous priests, and of many others whose business was connected in some way or other with the military or with the navy.

This vast fortress undoubtedly existed for war alone, and the French had made enormous efforts to make it impregnable. Once before the gallant New Englanders had captured the place, but a shortsighted English ministry had handed it back to France, whose ministers were possessed of far keener perception. They realized that the struggle between the two nations would break out again, and since it had come into their hands after capture, they had spared no pains to complete their preparations for offence and defence. There were four thousand French and Canadian regulars behind the two miles of granite walls of the fortress, making eight thousand defenders if the civil population are counted. Four hundred cannon grinned from the embrasures, while the store-houses contained ample ammunition and food for a year. Add to these preparations against attack the natural defences of the place, for the seas were rough, and the coast rocky for miles on either side, save for an occasional cove capable of easy defence, and the reader will be able to gather some idea of the difficulties before our forces. In addition, the seven-mile circumference of the harbour prevented all approach from the sea-side to the fortress, and sheltered seven battleships and five frigates, which together added five hundred and fifty guns and three thousand men to the strength of the garrison.

"There will be a landing to-morrow," said General Wolfe that evening, as he joined Steve and his father on the deck. "This sea is settling down, I am thankful to say, for I am the worst of sailors, and if only the wind will remain fair we shall embark during the night. You will take part in the landing."

That night, in fact, it became known through the fleet that an endeavour would be made to land in the early hours of the following morning, and sunrise found the troops embarked in the ship's boats, and hanging on to their sides awaiting the signal. Three spots had been selected for the expedition to attack, and in consequence the force at General Amherst's disposal was divided into three divisions. The first and second of these were under the command of Brigadiers Lawrence and Whitmore respectively, and they were to attack the two coves nearest to the fortress on its west. Wolfe was in command of the third division, with orders to row along the rocky coast till he came to Le Coromandiere, which while being the most likely spot for a landing, being easier than the former two, was at the same time strongly defended by the enemy, who had trenches, rifle pits, and strong barricades, with mounted cannon. It was four miles from Louisbourg, so that it was some little while before the boats of this division arrived near the cove. Meanwhile our fleet opened a terrific fire on the fortress.

"Listen to that fer cannon," said Jim, who sat beside Steve, his musket, now provided with a bayonet, set upright between his legs. "I've never in all the course of my days heard the like of it. It's thunder and worse."

"Our men are just giving the French in the fortress a taste of what they have in store for them," laughed Steve. "But take a look at the cove, Jim. Those are guns there, and there must be a large force of men ready to receive us."

"Then the more the merrier, lad. I've fought behind trees many a score of times. I've been shut in a fort with a couple of hundred redskin varmint howlin' and firin' outside, but I've never in all my days tried my hand at this sort of thing. Somehow we rangers think we're better soldiers than air these here reg'lars. But I ain't so sartin. No doubt when it's a war with braves, or a fight in the forest, we're the best boys at the game. But out here, a job of this sort ain't done by hanging behind trees and rocks. It wants a rush, and to make that a man has to have downright pluck. Yes, I'm beginnin' to see that a reg'lar has got heaps o' grit when he fights in his own way, and as he's been taught. Whew! Did yer feel that?"

Steve did. It was the shot from one of the French batteries which, now that the boats were within some hundred yards, opened on the flotilla suddenly. The shot, round and grape, hissed and hummed through the air, and striking the water for the most part, sent up cascades which blew away in spray, drenching many of the occupants of the boats. Had that cove been sheltered it is probable that Wolfe's division would have suffered terribly, for there were twelve hundred Frenchmen waiting for their attack, and they had many guns. But this barren, rockbound coast gave little or no shelter, and it happened that a big swell was running, which made correct aim impossible, and a hit more a matter of chance than of skill. And so it turned out that little damage was done. The bellow of the cannon was answered by a derisive cheer, and at once the boats' crews bent to their oars and raced for the narrow beach.

"Thunder! That air wuss nor bullets," sang out Jim, half rising to his feet, for this was a weird and new experience for the hunter. "Reckon another of them bangs and there won't be much of this crowd left to fight. Cap'n, it air clean mad to keep out here in the open when there's a bit of a rock thar that'll shelter us from them guns and give a landing at the same time."

This time the trapper got to his feet, in spite of the shouts of the ensign in command of the regulars aboard the boat, and as if to show how right he was, there came the crash of a second discharge, round shot and ball, hurtled about the boats, striking some of the men, and splashing foam and spray everywhere.

"Look thar," cried Jim, in no way abashed by the gold lace and smart uniform of the young officer. "Yer'll never set yer toe on the beach, but yer'll get to hand grips with them ere Frenchies ef yer'll make away where I'm pointin'."

The officer was on his feet in a moment, scanning the rock to which the trapper had drawn his attention. Then he gave a sharp word of command, which caused the tiller to be put over and the bows of the boat to sheer off in that direction, while the crew, who had lain on their oars and looked doubtfully about them after the last discharge of cannon, bent to their work again with a will. Another boat near at hand followed their example, and a third was not slow to do the same. It became a race, and the water was churned into froth at the bows of the boats.

"Steady! That's near enough. Over we go. Hurrah!"

A wild cheer burst from the men as they leaped into the surf, and with their young officer and Steve ahead made for the shore.

"Make way for the other men and just get your breath, my lads," sang out the officer. "Sit down and keep close to the rock. They cannot see us here, and we shall be able to form up for a charge. Ha! Look at the brigadier. He is following. Did anyone see his signals?"

He looked round anxiously, passing his eyes from face to face till he came to Steve. The latter nodded, while a smile played on his lips.

"I fancy I did," he laughed. "The brigadier was in a hot place, and saw that his men would be shot to pieces. I rather think I saw him signal to the whole flotilla to retire."

This, in fact, was the case. General Wolfe, seeing the narrowness of the beach, its difficult approach, and the batteries which commanded it, had signalled for the flotilla of boats to retire at once, for he was fearful of losing his men. But he was not the officer to allow a breach of discipline of this sort to arouse his anger. His boat came surging up to the rock upon which the first party had landed, and in a trice he was being carried ashore on the shoulders of a stalwart sailor.

"Well done! Well done, indeed, my lads. A very smart manœuvre, which may save the situation for us. Lucky none of you saw my signal."

There was a dry smile on his thin lips, and he looked at the young officer directly, causing him to flush to the roots of his hair.

"Now we shall turn those gentlemen out, my lads. Will any one follow me?"

There was a shout at that, a bellow of excitement, for the men had been roused by the small losses already suffered, and were stung by the fear of failure. In a trice they were lined up behind the brigadier, who faced round to inspect them, a simple cane his only weapon. And beside this gallant officer stood Steve and Jim, the latter looking grim and determined.

"What reg'lars can do, so kin I," he growled. "But I 'low as this fightin' in the open air enough to scare a chap as is used to the forest. Let's get ahead with the charge. I'm warm and ready."

So were the men. Their blood was thoroughly up. They gripped their muskets, and held the bayonets levelled with their chests. Then the brigadier gave the word, and the troops, now all collected, save for those who had been hit, or who had been drowned in the surf, gave a shout and set off towards the intrenchments held by the French.

"Steady, boys. Here are some of their grenadiers. Let the left flanking company get down and open fire. Steady. Drive them back, or they will take us in the rear."

The brigadier brought the column to a halt for a few moments, while the company selected sent out its riflemen, for a company of French grenadiers had suddenly put in an appearance. However, the English soldiers were not to be gainsaid on this particular day. There were a number of defeats to be wiped out. The memory of Braddock's defeat was still fresh, while Fort William Henry and its dastardly massacre was always before them. Those skirmishers fired a hail of bullets into the grenadiers sent down by the enemy to oppose the landing, and then, finding that their powder was damped by the sea-water, for very few of the men had escaped a drenching, they clapped bayonets to their muzzles, gave a fierce shout, and heads down charged the enemy, the long and terrible weapon, which they knew so well how to wield, held well in advance.

Meanwhile the column, thanks to Jim's sagacity and to the sharpness of the ensign and of the other two commanders of boats who had followed to the spit of rock, lay out of range of the French cannon and musketry fire. The enemy lying in their rifle pits and trenches above could not see them, and were forced to remain idle while the company of grenadiers they had sent down attempted the impossible task of turning the invaders back. Nor did it improve their steadiness when they saw these same grenadiers flying back for their lives, a draggled and drenched crew of red coats charging after them, with bayonets flashing in the June sun and shouts of triumph on their lips. For that sight gave them an idea of what they might expect in a very few minutes, and caused many to have doubts. Brigadier-General Wolfe did not give them long before showing them his intentions.

"We will charge now," he sang out, standing there before the column as cool as an iceberg, while he swished the air with his ridiculous little cane. "There are batteries, with some hundreds of men to defend them. We are about to take those batteries and to chase the French back to the walls of their fort."

There was a shout from the officers, who had by now got their companies into order, a shout which was taken up deliriously by the men. The brigadier turned, waved a signal, and set off steadily round the spit of rock. Then he broke into a trot, and as soon as the companies swung round from the shelter, they wheeled so as to face the enemy's position, opened out a little, preserving wonderful steadiness in spite of the bullets and round shot hurtling about their ears, and then broke into a fast run which very soon changed into a most determined and furious charge. The men's blood was undoubtedly up. All thought of personal safety was gone. They forgot the fact that bullets were flying, forgot that they were drenched to the skin, and that their powder was wet, for they had no need for it now. This was a day for cold steel, and the thought of that, the determination to get up to those batteries, to fling the French back and punish those who had fired at the flotilla alone filled the minds of the men.

"It 'ud do a lot of trappers a power of good to see 'em," shouted Jim, as with Steve beside him he swung out from the shelter of the rocks. "This air fightin'! This I 'low would take all the grit a backwoodsman's got, 'cos there's no cover. Air yer ready?"

He turned to find that Steve was not only ready, but was already rushing away from him. For our hero had caught the infection spread by these gallant fellows under Wolfe's command. He had no wish to kill. He felt only a huge desire to be amongst the very first to reach those batteries, come what might, and when he was there, not a Frenchman would dare to remain. He would see to that. He was armed with a sabre on this occasion, and dressed in the red coat and pantaloons of an officer who had died on the voyage from England. He felt more than ever now that he was an officer, to whom the men would look. And that thought, as well as his own natural dash and gallantry, stimulated him. He shouted with the loudest, swung his sabre above his head, and then raced through the bullets and the cannon shot. A low wall of rock stood in his way, and Brigadier Wolfe was in the act of scaling it. With one leap Steve stood on the summit. Then he turned, caught the brigadier by the arm and hoisted him up. The two were now ahead of the charging column.

Brigadier Wolfe faced the tall young officer for a second, and coolly shook him by the hand, gripping his left, for Steve had his hilt in the right. The sight of such an act of coolness brought a frantic shout from the men. Steve turned to look at them for one brief moment, and noted the set expression of their faces, the grim, determined looks, the gaping nostrils and the heaving chests. Then, as the brigadier waved his cane, he faced the enemy again, and with a shout went on at the head of the men. A huge Frenchman, armed with a ponderous musket, suddenly shot up from behind a barricade, brought his piece to his shoulder, and aimed at our hero. There was a flash, the powder in the pan spluttered up into smoke, while the bullet swept within an inch of Steve's head, thudding heavily on something just behind him.

"Ef I don't get even with that ere chap, why, I ain't Huntin' Jim," shouted a voice at his elbow. "Jest wait a minute. Ha! Yer'd shoot me down. That's jest to make yer remember that I ain't so soft as to fall 'cos a bullet's happened to strike me."