The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York BorderAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York Border
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Juvenile fiction
The scout awoke the three, who were much astonished to learn that such
danger had passed so near them. Then they considered what was best for
them to do next.
CHAPTER VII
THE FOREST BATTLE
"It is quite evident," said Robert, as they talked, "that we must
follow on the trail of St. Luc. We've settled in our minds that
he wants to keep our people busy along Lake George, while Montcalm
fortifies higher up. Then it's our duty to find out what he's doing
and stop it if we can."
All were in agreement upon the point, even Grosvenor, who did not yet
feel at home in the woods.
"But we must wait until the fog lifts," said Willet. "If we moved now
we might walk directly into the arms of the enemy, and we can afford
to wait the night through, anyhow. Tayoga, we have got to keep you
fresh, because your senses and faculties must be at their finest and
most delicate pitch for trailing, so now you go to sleep. All the rest
of you do the same, and I'll watch."
Soon four slumbered, and only the hunter was awake and on guard. But
he was enough. His sight and hearing were almost as good as those of
Tayoga himself and he too began to believe that the Onondaga's Manitou
was a shield before them. Danger had come often and very near, but
it had always passed, and, for the present, at least, he was not
apprehensive. The fog might hang on all night if it chose. They
could easily make up lost ground in the morning. Meanwhile they were
accumulating fresh strength. The four were sleeping very placidly, and
it was not likely that they would awake before dawn. Willet looked at
their relaxed figures with genuine benevolence. There were the friends
for whom he cared most, and he felt sure the young Englishman also
would become an addition. Grosvenor was full of courage and he had
already proved that he was adaptable. He would learn fast. The hunter
had every reason to be satisfied with himself and the situation.
The fog did not go away. Instead, it thickened perceptibly, rolling
up in new waves from the lake. The figures of the sleeping four were
wrapped in it as in a white blanket, but Willet knew they were there.
No air stirred, and, as he sat silent, he listened for sounds that
might come through the white veil, hearing only the occasional
stirring of some animal. Toward morning the inevitable change
occurred. A wind arose in the south, gentle puffs in the beginning,
then blowing steady and strong. The fog was torn away first at the
top, where it was thinnest, floating off in shreds and patches, and
then the whole wall of it yielded before the insistent breeze, driven
toward the north like a mist, and leaving the woods and thickets free.
Willet made a careful circle about the camp, at a range of several
hundred yards, and found no sign of hostile presence. Then he resumed
his silent vigil, and, an hour later, the sun rose in a shower of
gold. Tayoga opened his eyes and Willet awakened the others.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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