The voyage was a pleasant one to Nathan, for beyond the mouth of Otter Creek everything was new to him, with strange and changing shores and such an expanse of water as he had never seen. His old friend pointed out to him notable landmarks and scenes of past adventure. Here was the cleft promontory of So-baps-kwa and the opposite headland of Ko-zo-aps-kwa, there the solitary rock of Wo-ja-hose. Then they passed the isles of the Four Winds and Valcour, and Grand Isle’s low, wooded shore stretching along the eastward water line. At last, as they were nearing the northern end of the lake and saw on their right the ruin of an old French windmill, the only vestige of civilized occupation they had seen except the ruins of Fort St. Anne on Isle la Motte, they descried two sail rapidly bearing down toward them from the north before the shifted wind. For a few moments they were in an excitement of alarm, not knowing whether these were friends or foes. Soon Allen, who had been watching through a glass, lowered it, and, waving his cocked hat above his head, shouted: “Hurrah, boys, it’s our friends with the British sloop. Give her three cheers.” While the last lusty cheer was scarcely uttered, an answering salute from the cannon of the sloop and schooner was thundered forth. “Give ’em powder for powder, boys. Fire,” Allen shouted, and a rattling volley of muskets, rifles, and long smoothbores reawakened the echoes. The crew of the batteau was then transferred to the schooner and her prize—the same armed sloop Nathan so well remembered seeing when she brought supplies to the Fort he had just borne a part in surprising. While amid loud rejoicings the story of her bloodless capture was told, they went merrily bowling homeward with the clumsy batteau surging along in tow at such speed as she had never known before. CHAPTER XVII—HOME COMING As the sloop swept past the massive battlements of Crown Point where they guard the narrowing channel of the lake, Job said to his young comrade: “We’re getting towards home.” “Yes, I’ve been thinking of home and mother and sis. Guess I needn’t be afraid of ol’ Toombs any longer, but I don’t know as I could keep my hands off’n him. I always meant to give him a thrashing when I could.” “Mebby you could, now, but he’s a cordy critter and a soople one; but mind what I tell you, you never will.” Nathan’s answer was a short, incredulous laugh, as he helped Job make ready for disembarkation. As they marched in straggling ranks toward Fort Ticonderoga, Nathan was accosted by one of the young Newtons, who had remained there during the northern expedition. “Look a-here, Nate,” he said, drawing him aside, “there’s some trouble to your mother’s. She’s sent word for you to come right home. Old Toombs is dead or run off to Canerdy, or something. I don’t know the rights on’t. But, anyhow, she wants you bad.”