"Such as they are! Zeb, you're a dyed-in-the-wool Virginian. These New Englanders and New Yorkers coming into camp are of the same mettle as those under Stark and those who died with Herkimer. There are no better men in the world." "Reckon ye better make an exception o' the Rangers. They sent us down here, when we ought to be with Washington, specially to save you people from the Indians." "Yes, and the day you started, Stark and his New Hampshire and Massachusetts men, with the help of Seth Warner's men, won a victory which will result in the defeat of Burgoyne. You Virginians are all right; you have your Washington and Morgan and the Rangers, but don't cry down the Northern farmers in their homespun. They've had to fight for a living from the beginning, and, from Lexington right down through till now, they've fought for their country." "Except when they've left to go home and gather their crops. Soldiers who stay in the field till the war's over are the kind that is needed." "Excuse me," interrupted Rodney, for the conversation had waxed warm, "but, from what Zeb told me, both Virginia and Massachusetts were needed to pull through the wilderness on the way to Quebec." Zeb laughed and said, "I reckon Virginia and Massachusetts will have to hang together if we get the job done." "And if we don't," added Donald, with a laugh, "they'll hang separately, as Dr. Franklin said of the signers of the Declaration of Independence." CHAPTER XXV PUT TO THE TEST "Likely lookin' men Dearborn's picked up," was Zeb's comment as Major Dearborn marched his recruits past. "Hi, Don. An' thar's his uncle. Glad he got through Bennington safe an' sound. Don was some worried about him. Man an' boy, ye can't beat 'em." "His uncle is a fine looking man. Those men have bayonets. They ought to be of service. But there's none like the Rangers, eh, Zeb?" "Askin' such questions is waste o' breath." "Well, I hope we'll soon have a chance to prove it." "We've been sayin' the same thing for more'n two weeks. I reckoned we sure would get it two days ago when we occupied Bemis Heights. Hello! What's doin'?" "Fall in!" As though there were magic in the words, those travel-stained riflemen sprang to their places with an eagerness never seen among regular troops. "The enemy is crossing the Hudson, an' we're to make 'em wish they hadn't," was the message which ran along the lines. Many a man turned to the next in line and said in matter of fact tone, "That means fight." "There they are," exclaimed Rodney, as they came in sight of the solid lines of the British army. Under Burgoyne were some of the finest soldiers Europe could produce. They marched in compact lines, moving like weighted machines under their heavy trappings which were gorgeous and imposing. "They don't intend to leave any hole for us to wedge in," said Rodney.