"Ay, that we did, sir," the old soldier replied, emphatically; "but Colonel Gansevoort had the desire to send a message to you, and we have brought it, hopin' to be excused from further duty for a short time." "What had Gansevoort to say?" General Herkimer asked, impatiently, and Sergeant Corney repeated the message twice over, in order that there should be no misunderstanding as to its meaning. "Very well. We will be on the alert if these hotheads can be restrained," the general replied, and his words were a riddle to me until half an hour later. Then he asked what the old soldier meant by wishing to be excused from duty, and the sergeant, in the fewest words possible, gave him an account of our proceedings since leaving the camp at Oriskany, concluding by saying: "There is no question but that Jacob Sitz will make his way through the Indian encampment, if it can be done by any person. Yet the lad is blinded by love for his father, an' will take altogether too desperate chances, unless there be some one at hand who can restrain him." "Is it in your mind that the prisoner may be taken out of Thayendanega's camp?" General Herkimer exclaimed. "We do not count on any such good fortune; but follow the lad simply that he may know he has not been forgotten. If it so be you need us, sir, we will wait until you have gained the fort before making any effort to join him." "No, no, it was not from such motives that I spoke," the general interrupted, hastily. "With a force as large as this two men would not make much of a count either way. Go where you please, Sergeant Braun, and when you are once more at liberty report to me." "We reckon on resting our legs a bit, sir, before settin' out. You will not advance for some time to come, sir?" "How far do you count we are from the enemy's pickets?" "Not above two miles, sir." "Then we shall remain here, unless matters get beyond my control, until having heard the signal." Having made this, to me, odd remark, the commander disappeared from view inside the shelter of boughs, and Sergeant Corney led me a dozen yards or more from what might by courtesy have been called "headquarters," when he halted to say, gravely: "It appears that things are not just as they should be in this camp, lad." "How do you mean?" I asked, in surprise. "You heard what the general said?" "Ay." "Well, who of his men are making the trouble?" Before I could so much as make a guess at the proper answer, I must needs be told that there was trouble, for, through having failed to understand exactly what the commander meant, I had not suspected that there was anything serious brewing. But Sergeant Corney, experienced as he was in such matters, seemed to know as if he had been informed in so many words that insubordination was rife in the camp, and at a time when it was in the highest degree necessary the men should move in harmony.