Strive as I might it was impossible, during the first two or three minutes of the painful journey, to prevent myself from fancying that half a dozen of Thayendanega's painted wolves were creeping up close behind me, enjoying the mental torture caused by my suspense, and then suddenly my mind was cleared of fears, even as the heavens are of clouds after a storm, as I ceased to think of what lay behind, remembering that my efforts _must_ be successful else patriot blood might flow in streams. We were lying flat upon the ground, pulling ourselves painfully along by our hands, and pushing with our toes whenever it was possible to get a leverage on the hard earth, moving perhaps no more than twelve inches each moment. Had St. Leger's sentinels kept the strict watch which the siege demanded of them, we would not have gone a dozen paces before being discovered. But that we did move out from the thicket without causing an alarm was, as I believe, due to the fact that the enemy contented themselves with watching the main gate of the fort, fancying that only from such quarter could any danger menace them. They had so many scouts out between the fort and Oriskany that it probably seemed to be an absolute impossibility any of the patriots could come through their lines undetected. However it may be, we did succeed in crossing that open space without being seen by those who would have delighted in torturing us to death; but it was as if I lived a full lifetime before coming within the deep shadows cast by the walls on the west side, at the point decided upon by Sergeant Corney. Some moments before we arrived I understood, and my heart literally bounded with joy, that those on the inside were already aware of our approach, and waiting to receive us, for we heard subdued voices from the sentinels on the walls, as if they were giving information to those below of our progress. "It's a big thing we have done, lad," Sergeant Corney said, as he drew himself up by my side while both of us hugged the earthworks as limpets do a rock. "It stands to reason we'll be in danger many a time before we go out from this world, unless it so chances that we come to grief here; but I dare venture to say we'll never be nearer death than we have been since leaving the thicket." The relief of mind was so great, and the knowledge that we had come thus far undetected under the very eyes of a watchful enemy was so overpowering, that I could not for a moment make reply, and by the time I had gathered my scattered senses--scattered through very joy--we heard voices from the inside which told that the men were seeking to learn exactly where we were.