Archie's head sank upon his breast. The next moment four savages sprang upon him, hurled him to the ground, and bound his hands. These were four warriors of the Abénaquis, who had been spying upon the movements of the English ever since their landing at Rivière Ouelle. Relying upon his tremendous strength, Archie made desperate efforts to break his bonds. The tough moose-hide which enwound his wrists in triple coils stretched mightily, but resisted all his efforts. Seeing this, Archie resigned himself to his fate, and followed his captors quietly into the forest. His vigorous Scottish legs spared him further ill treatment. Bitter were the reflections of the captive during the rapid southward march through the forest, wherein he had so often hunted with his brother D'Haberville. Heedless of the fierce delight of the Indians, whose eyes flashed at the sight of his despair, he exclaimed: "You have conquered, Montgomery; my curses recoil upon my own head. You will proclaim that I have deserted to the enemy, that I am a traitor as you long suspected. You will rejoice indeed, for I have lost all, even honor." And like Job, he cursed the day that he was born. After two hours' rapid marching they arrived at the foot of the mountain which overlooks Trois Saumons Lake, on which water Archie concluded that they would find an encampment of the Abénaquis. Coming to the edge of the lake, one of his captors uttered three times the cry of the osprey; and the seven echoes of the mountain repeated, each three times, the piercing and strident call of the great swan of Lower Canada. At any other time Lochiel would have thrilled with admiration at the sight of this beautiful water outspread beneath the starlight, enringed with mountains and seeded with green-crowned islets. It was the same lake to which, for ten happy years, he had made hunting and fishing excursions with his friends. It was the same lake which he had swum at its widest part to prove his prowess. But to-night all Nature appeared as dead as the heart within him. From one of the islets came a birch canoe, paddled by a man in Indian garb, but wearing a cap of fox-skin. The new comer held a long conversation with the four savages, but Archie was ignorant of the Abénaquis tongue, and could make out nothing of what they said. Two of the Indians thereupon started off to the southwest; but Archie was put into the canoe and taken to the islet. CHAPTER XII. A NIGHT AMONG THE SAVAGES. What tragic tears bedew the eye! What deaths we suffer ere we die! Our broken friendships we deplore, And loves of youth that are no more. +Logan.+ All, all on earth is shadow, all beyond Is substance; the reverse is folly's creed. How solid all where change shall be no more! +Young's+ _Night Thoughts._