"I accept the terms willingly, Colonel," answered Steve promptly. "I think I can guarantee that I shall be able to enlist ten men at least. The money will be little inducement to them, for they have a good deal more to fight for. As to the clothing, they will prefer to keep to their hunting costumes. All will be trappers born and bred." "Then you can enlist them up to forty in number. And now, Steve, for your orders. When can you be ready?" "In a week, I think," was our hero's answer. "That will give the men time to settle their families." "And when can you march?" "When you order, sir." "Then you will set out in ten days' time, and meanwhile I will send on a letter to Fort William Henry, intimating what I have done. Now join me at my evening meal." Ten days later Steve set out from the mountains, seventeen of the trappers who had fled from the settlement accompanying him. Jim and Mac and Pete were there, while Silver Fox, wrapped in his blanket, taciturn and silent, strode on in advance, his keen eyes noting everything, his nostrils agape as if he already scented the smoke from the camp fires of the Shawnee Indians, hereditary foes of his race, with whom he hoped to meet before the conflict was ended. And so with the encouraging cheers of George Washington's ragged soldiers ringing in their ears, the party set out, Steve their acknowledged leader, and turned their faces for Albany. They plunged into the forest within a few minutes, and stole along, a silent band, clad in moccasins and trapper's leather. Icy blasts occasionally reached them, while leaves of every tinge and shade slid from the trees and pattered in their faces. The winter was at hand, and before Steve and his band had reached their destination the frosts had commenced and some snow had fallen. Little did they care for the cold. These hardy huntsmen entered Fort William Henry ruddy and browned by exposure, their honest faces displaying their enthusiasm and the eagerness which all felt to commence the contest. Nor were they kept long impatient. For the French were close at hand, and, indeed, had come within sight of the fort that very morning. "I am glad to see you," said the commander, as he shook Steve's hand. "You will find your own quarters, and draw your rations as do the others. To-morrow you will see what the French are doing. A dozen of our poor fellows were ambushed and slaughtered yesterday." Steve saluted and returned to his men. That evening their arrangements were completed, and as the first streak of dawn lit up the gloomy forest surroundings of Fort William Henry, he and his men stole from the fort in single file, and, passing the sentries and outposts, disappeared one by one amongst the trees and brambles. They were alone again, dependent on their own courage and exertions, and conscious of the fact that a remorseless enemy might pounce upon them at any moment. Chapter X Steve and his Band of Scouts