The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York Border by Joseph A. Altsheler (cat reading book .txt) 📕

chance at all, and I warn you now, as I warned them, that I intend to escape later on."

St. Luc smiled.

"I'll accept the challenge," he said, "and I'll see that you don't make good your boast. I can assure you, too, if by any possibility you should escape, it certainly will not be before the great battle."

"Great battle! What great battle? You don't mean that Montcalm will dare to meet Abercrombie?"

"Such an idea was in my mind."

"Why, we'll come with four or five to one! The Marquis de Montcalm cannot stand against such a powerful force as ours. We've definite information that he won't be able to muster more than three or four thousand men. We hear, too, that the Indians, frightened by our power, are leaving him, for the time, at least."

"Some of your surmises may be correct, but your facts don't follow from them. The Marquis de Montcalm, our great leader, will await your Abercrombie, no matter what your force may be. I violate no military secret when I tell you that, and I tell you also that you are very far from being assured of any victory."

The Chevalier suddenly dropped his light manner, and became intensely earnest. His eyes gleamed for an instant with blue fire, but it was only a passing moment of emotion. He was in an instant his old, easy self again.

"We talk like the debaters of the schools," he said, "when we are at war. I am to march in a few minutes. I suggest that in return for certain liberties you give me your pledge to attempt no escape until we arrive at the camp of the Marquis de Montcalm."

"I can't do it. Since I've promised you that I will escape I must neglect no chance."

"So be it. Then I must guard you well, but I will not have your wrists bound again. Here comes an expert rover of the forest who will be your immediate jailer."

A white man at the head of several warriors was approaching through the woods. He was young, lean, with a fierce, hooked Roman nose, and a bold, aggressive face, tanned to the color of mahogany. Robert recognized him at once, and since he had to be a prisoner a second time, he took a certain pleasure in the meeting.

"How do you do, Monsieur Langlade?" he said. "You see, I've come back. I forgot to tell you good-by, and I'm here to make amends for my lack of politeness. And how is the patient and watchful spouse, the Dove?"

Robert spoke in good French and the partisan stared in astonishment.
Then a pleased look of recognition came into his eyes.

"Ah, it's young Mr. Lennox," he exclaimed. "Young Mr. Lennox come back to us. It's not mere politeness that makes me tell you I'm glad to see you. You did make a very clever escape with the aid of that Indian friend of yours. I hope to capture Tayoga some day, and, if I do, it will be an achievement of which I shall boast all the rest of my life. But we'll take good care that you don't leave us again."

"He has just warned me that he intends to escape a second time," said
St. Luc.

"Then it will be a pretty test of mettle," said the Owl, appreciation showing in his tone, "and we welcome it. Have you any commands for me, sir?"

He spoke with great respect when he addressed the query to St. Luc, and the Chevalier replied that they would march in a half hour. Then Langlade gave Robert food, and took a little himself, sitting with the prisoner and informing him that the Dove had worried greatly over his escape. Although she was not to blame, she considered that in some indirect manner it was a reflection upon her vigilance, and it was many months before she was fully consoled.

"I must send word to her by one of our runners that you have been retaken," said the Owl, "and I wish to tell you, Mr. Lennox, that the Dove's younger sister, who is so much like her in looks and character, is still unmarried and perhaps it may come into the mind of the Chevalier de St. Luc or the Marquis de Montcalm to send you back to our village."

"You're once more most polite," laughed Robert, "but I'm far too young, yet, to think of marriage."

"It's not an offer that I'd make to many young men," said Langlade regretfully. "In truth, I know of none other to whom I'd have mentioned it."

When they took up the march the force numbered about fifty men, and Robert walked between Langlade and a stalwart Indian. St. Luc was further on. They did not seem to fear any ambush and Langlade chattered after his fashion. He made the most of the French resources. He spoke as if the Marquis de Montcalm had ten or fifteen thousand veteran French regulars, and half as many Indian warriors.

"Don't consider me contentious, Monsieur Langlade," said Robert, at last, "but I know full well that your general has not half that many troops, no, not a third, and that nearly all his Indians are about to leave him."

"And how do you know that?" exclaimed the Owl. "Well, one Frenchman equals two of the English or the Bostonnais, and that doubles our numbers. You don't see any chance to escape, do you?"

"Not at present," laughed Robert.

"Not now, nor at any other time. No man ever escapes twice from the
French."

The talk of Langlade, his frank egotism and boastfulness for himself personally and for the French collectively, beguiled the journey which soon became strenuous, the force advancing at a great pace through the forest. At night a fire was built in the deep woods, the knapsacks furnished plenty of food, and Robert slept soundly on a blanket until dawn. He had seen before closing his eyes that a strict guard was set, and he knew that it was not worth while to keep awake in the hope of escape. Like a wise man he dismissed the hope of the impossible at once, and waited calmly for another time. He knew too that St. Luc had originally sent out his warriors to capture a prisoner from whom they might drag information, but that the Chevalier would not try to cross-examine him, knowing its futility.

They traveled northward by east all the next day, through very rough country, slept another night in the forest, and on the third day approached a great camp, which held the main French force. Robert's heart thrilled. Here was the center of the French power in North America. Vaudreuil and Bigot at Quebec might plan and plot and weave their webs, but in the end the mighty struggle between French and English and their colonies must be decided by the armies.

He knew that this was the outlet of Lake George and he knew also that the army of Abercrombie was gathering at the head of the same lake. His interest grew keener as they drew nearer. He saw clusters of tents, cannon parked, and many fires. There were no earthworks or other fortifications, and he inferred from their absence that Montcalm was undecided whether to go or stay. But Robert thought proudly that he would surely go, when the invincible Anglo-American army advanced from its base at the head of the lake. The whole camp lay under his eye, and he had enough military experience now to judge the French numbers by its size. He did not think they were much in excess of three thousand, and as Abercrombie would come four or five to one, Montcalm must surely retreat.

"I take it that this is Ticonderoga," he said to St. Luc.

"Aye," replied the Chevalier.

"And in effect you have Champlain on one side of you and George on the other. But you can't hold the place against our great force. I'm here in time to join you in your retreat."

"We don't seem to be retreating, as you'll notice, Mr. Lennox, and I don't know that we will. Still, that rests on the knees of the gods. I think you'll find here some old friends and enemies of yours, and though your people have made a great outcry against the Marquis de Montcalm because of the affair at Fort William Henry, I am sure you will find that the French know how to treat a prisoner. I shall put you for the present in the care of Monsieur Langlade, with whom you appear to have no quarrel. He has his instructions."

It was the second time that Robert had entered the camp of Montcalm and his keen interest drove away for the present all thought of himself. He noted anew the uniforms, mostly white faced with blue or violet or red or yellow, and with black, three-cornered hats. There were the battalions of Guienne, La Reine, Béarn, La Sarre, Languedoc, Berry and Royal Roussillon. The Canadians, swarthy, thick and strong, wore white with black facings. Some Indians were about, but fewer than Robert had expected. It was true then that they had become alarmed at Abercrombie's advancing might, and were leaving the French to their fate.

"You are to stay in a tent with me," said Langlade, "and you will be so thoroughly surrounded by the army, that you will have no earthly chance of escape. So I think it better that you pledge your word not to attempt it for a while, and I can make things easier for you."

"No, I decline again to give such a pledge," said Robert firmly. "I warn you, as I've warned the Chevalier de St. Luc, that I'm going to escape."

Langlade looked at him searchingly, and then the face of the partisan kindled.

"I believe you mean it!" he exclaimed. "You rely on yourself and you think, too, that clever Onondaga, Tayoga, will come again to your aid. I acknowledge that he's a great trailer, that he's master of some things that even I, Charles Langlade, the Owl, do not know, but he cannot steal you away a second time."

"I admit that I've been thinking of Tayoga. He may be here now close to us."

The Owl gave a startled look at the empty air, as if he expected
Tayoga to be hovering there, formidable but invisible.

"I see you do fear him," laughed Robert.

"I do, but we shall be a match for him this time, though I never underrate his powers."

A young officer in a captain's uniform stopped suddenly and looked at
Robert. Then he advanced and extended his hand.

"It is evident that you like the French," he said, "since you are continually coming back to them."

"De Galissonnière!" exclaimed Robert, as he warmly shook the extended hand. "Yes, here I am, and I do like many of the French. I'm sorry we're official enemies."

"I know that our people will treat you well," jested De Galissonnière, "and then, when we take New York, you can tell the inhabitants of that city what good masters we are and teach them to be reconciled."

Young Lennox made a reply in like spirit, and De Galissonnière passed on. But a man walking near with his shoulder well bound greeted him in no such friendly manner. Instead a heavy frown came over his face and his eyes flashed cruelly. It was De Courcelles, nursing the wound Robert had given him, and at the same time increasing his anger. The youth returned his gaze defiantly.

"Colonel De Courcelles does not like you," said Langlade, who had noticed the brief exchange.

"He does not," replied Robert. "It was my bullet that hurt his shoulder, but I gave him the wound in fair combat."

"And he hates you because of it?"

"That and other things."

"What a strange man! A wound received in fair and honorable battle should be a tie that binds. If you had given it to me in a combat on equal terms I'd have considered it an honor conferred upon me by you. It would have wiped away all grievance and have made us friends."

"Then, Monsieur Langlade, I'm afraid I missed my opportunity to make our friendship warmer than it is."

"How is that?"

"I held you also under the muzzle of my rifle in that battle in the forest, but when I recognized you I could not send the bullet. I turned the weapon aside."

"Ah, that was in truth a most worthy and chivalrous act! Embrace me, my friend!"

"No! No! We American men never embrace or kiss one another!"

"I should have remembered. A cold people! But never