The young captain stared at Robert, but his eyes were full of incredulity. Several of the soldiers were standing near, and they too heard, but the warning found no answer in their minds. Robert looked around at the men asleep and the others ready to follow them, and, despite his instinctive liking for Colden, his anger began to rise. "I said that you were surrounded," he repeated sharply, "and it's no time, Captain Colden, for unbelief! Mr. Willet, Tayoga and I saw the signals of the enemy, but Black Rifle here has looked upon the warriors themselves. They're led too by the French, and the best of all the French forest captains, St. Luc, is undoubtedly with them off there." He waved his hand toward the north, and a little of the high color left Colden's face. The youth's manner was so earnest and his words were spoken with so much power of conviction that they could not fail to impress. "You really mean that the French and Indians are here, that they're planning to attack us tonight?" said the Philadelphian. "Beyond a doubt and we must be prepared to meet them." Colden took a few steps back and forth, and then, like the brave young man he was, he swallowed his pride. "I confess that I don't know much of the forest, nor do my men," he said, "and so I shall have to ask you four to help me." "We'll do it gladly," said Robert. "What do you propose, Dave?" "I think we'd better draw off some distance from the fire," replied the hunter. "To the right there is a low hill, covered with thick brush, and old logs thrown down by an ancient storm. It's the very place." "Then," said Captain Colden briskly, "we'll occupy it inside of five minutes. Up, men, up!" The sleepers were awakened rapidly, and, although they were awkward and made much more noise than was necessary, they obeyed their captain's sharp order, and marched away with all their arms and stores to the thicket on the hill, where, as Willet had predicted, they found also a network of fallen trees, affording a fine shelter and defense. Here they crouched and Willet enjoined upon them the necessity of silence. "Sir," said young Captain Colden, again putting down his pride, "I beg to thank you and your comrades." "You don't owe us any thanks. It's just what we ought to have done," said Willet lightly. "The wilderness often turns a false face to those who are not used to it, and if we hadn't warned you we'd have deserved shooting." The faint whine of a wolf came from a point far in the north. "It's one of their signals," said Willet. "They'll attack inside of an hour." Then they relapsed into silence and waited, every heart beating hard. CHAPTER II THE AMBUSH