The regiments were all under arms at the breastworks at six o'clock. It was the King's birthday, and the Royal Artillery began with a royal salute of twenty-one guns. Then the regiments fired in turn, till all had fired three times. After that the ranks were broken, and the fun began. More good news came soon after, and this time our own army had a success. For Colonel Bradstreet with two thousand men had set out on an expedition against Fort Frontenac, and early in September he sent back word that he had taken and destroyed the fort. These victories put new life into our men, and they became cheerful, and did not continually harp on our defeat. Through Hector and Donald we came to know the men of the Black Watch well, and spent much of our leisure time with them, listening to their tales of cattle-lifting and of fighting in the Border. [Sidenote: BORDER TALES] Most of their talk was about the Rebellion of 1745, for the regiment was largely made up of Highlanders that had been "out" with Charlie. And when they drank the King's health, it was to King James they drank, and not to King George. Their conversation was very interesting to Edmund and to me, for our family had lived together like a clan in Lexington, and the older people still kept certain Scotch customs and used queer expressions. As the Highlanders talked, a strange feeling would occasionally come over us, as if we had led that life and seen those sights at some dim, remote period. In our own camp with the Rangers we heard stories of adventures in the woods with Indians, bears, and lucivees. Old Bill McKinstry said, "I wish we had some good strong traps, and we could go off and trap bob-cat." "And why shouldn't we have traps? What am I a blacksmith for? Just find me some old iron, and I will get the use of the armourers' forge." They procured the iron, and I made eight big traps with strong jaws and a chain for each trap. McKinstry, John Martin, Amos, and I got a furlough for a week, and so did Hector Munro, whom we asked to go with us. We packed up our traps and provisions on an Indian sled. The winter had set in. The river was frozen over, and the snow was deep. We fastened on our rackets and started to the southwest, where there was little likelihood that we should be disturbed by Indians. We went down the river, and turned off into a path that led to the west, and followed it till well into the afternoon, when we came to a good-sized pond. On the way, we shot several rabbits with which to bait the traps. McKinstry killed a hedgehog, which he said was just what he wanted. We chose a place where there were a couple of good-sized saplings, some twelve feet apart in a level and sheltered spot, not far from the pond. [Sidenote: BUILDING A CAMP]