Down it went, and he smacked his lips. Then we took him back to the fire, where the Oneidas were still a-painting, and made him eat and drink and dry him by the flames. "Is there a horse to be had at Summer House?" he demanded, his mouth full of parched corn. "Surely," said I. And asked him news of the North, if he were at liberty to give us any account. "The news I can not give you is what I shall not," said he, laughing. "But there's plenty besides, and damned bad." "Bad?" "Monstrous bad, John. For on my forest-running south from Chambly, I saw Sir John and his crew as they gained the Canadas! They seemed near dead, too, but they were full three hundred, and I but one, so I did not tarry to mark 'em with a stealthy bullet, but pulled foot for Saint Sacrement." He grinned, bit a morsel from a cold pigeon, and sat chewing it reflectively and watching the Indians at their painting. "You know what is passing in Canada?" he demanded abruptly. "Nothing definite," said I. "Listen, then. We had taken Chambly, Montreal, and St. John's. Arnold lay before Quebec. Sullivan commanded us. Six weeks ago he sent Hazen's regiment to Arnold. Then the Canadians and Indians struck us at the Cedars, and we lost five hundred men before we were out of it." "What was the reason for such disaster?" I demanded, turning hot with wrath. "Cowardice and smallpox," said he carelessly. "They were new troops sent up to reinforce us, and their general, Thomas, died o' the pox. "And atop of that comes news of British transports in the St. Lawrence, and of British regulars and Hessians. "So Sullivan sends the Pennsylvania Line to strike 'em. St. Clair marches, Wayne marches, Irving follows with his regiment. Lord, how they were peppered, the Pennsylvania Line! And Thompson was taken, and Colonel Irving, and they wounded Anthony Wayne; and the Line ran!" "Ran!" "By God, yes. And our poor little Northern Army is on the run today, with thirteen thousand British on their heels. "They drove us out o' Chambly. They took the Cedars. Montreal fell. St. John's followed. Quebec is freed. We're clean kicked out o' Canada, and marching up Lake Champlain, our rear in touch with the red-coats. "If we stand and face about at Crown Point, we shall do more than I hope for. "Thomas is dead, Thompson and Irving taken, Arnold and Wayne wounded, the army a skeleton, what with losses by death, wounds, disease, and in prisoners. "Had not Arnold broke into the Montreal shops and taken food and woolen clothing, I think we had been naked now." "Good heavens!" said I, burning with mortification, "I had not heard of such a rout!" "Oh, it was no rout, John," said he carelessly. "Sullivan marched us out of that hell-hole in good order--whatever John Adams chooses to say about our army." "What does John Adams say?" "Why, he says we are disgraced, defeated, dispirited, discontented, undisciplined, diseased, eaten up with vermin." "My God!" exclaimed Nick.