The King's Own Borderers: A Military Romance, Volume 1 (of 3)Grant, James
General
The King's Own Borderers: A Military Romance, Volume 1 (of 3)
Grant, James
Soldiers -- Fiction
"'Indeed,' said he, in an altered tone, placing the butt of his rifle
on the ground, greatly to my satisfaction and general ease of mind;
'you are one of the force that defended Fort St. John, under Major
Preston and Captain André?'
"'Yes.'
"'And how, then, are you here?'
"'I was a prisoner, but escaped; and so great is my misery, that I
beg of you to make me a prisoner again, if you are in the American
interest.'
"'By your yellow facings, you are not one of the King's Fusiliers.'
"'I am a 25th man,' said I.
"'A 25th man?' he repeated, coming nearer, and looking hastily about
to see if we were observed, but all around the vast landscape seemed
desolate and tenantless; 'I will screen and save you if I can, for
the sake of the old country neither of us may ever see again; but,
more than all, for the sake of the _number_ on your buttons. Here,
taste this first, and then follow me.'
"He drew a leather hunting-bottle from the pocket of his rough
pea-jacket, and gave me a good dram of Jamaica rum, but for which, I
am sure, I should have died there, for the cold was fast overpowering
me.
"'So you are a 25th man?' said he, surveying me with considerable
interest; 'well, for that reason, if it were for nothing else, I
shall befriend you. Come this way.'
"I was too cold--too intensely miserable--to question his meaning,
but accompanied him through the wood, by a narrow path where the snow
lay deep, and where, in some places, it had fallen in such a manner
over the broad, horizontal and interlaced branches of the pine trees
as to form quite a covered passage, where the atmosphere felt
mild--even warm, compared with the temperature elsewhere. After a
time, we reached an open plateau, on the slope of the hills that look
towards Lake George, where we found his hut, a comfortable and warm
little dwelling, sheltered by stupendous pines, and built entirely of
fir logs, dressed and squared by the hatchet, and pegged each down
into the other through holes bored by an auger. It had a stone
chimney, within which a smouldering fire soon shot up into a ruddy
blaze as he cast a heap of crackling fir cones on it, and then added
some dry birch billets, that roared and sputtered cheerily, and threw
showers of sparks all over us.
"He gave me some food, broiled venison, hard biscuits, and a good can
of Jamaica grog; and he also gave me that which I needed sorely--warm
clothing, in the shape of an old frieze coat, lined with martin
skins, in lieu of my poor, faded and tattered regimentals, which, for
security's sake, we cast into the fire and burned.
"Three days I remained with the trapper or hunter, for such he seemed
to be, and on the fourth, after having carefully reconnoitred all the
neighbourhood, he announced his intention of conducting me to Colonel
Maclean's outposts upon the Richelieu; and being now thoroughly
refreshed, I was glad to hear the tidings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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