How Canada Was Won: A Tale of Wolfe and Quebec

"In a week, I think," was our hero's answer. "That will give the men time to settle their families."

"And when can you march?"

"When you order, sir."

"Then you will set out in ten days' time, and meanwhile I will send on a letter to Fort William Henry, intimating what I have done. Now join me at my evening meal."

Ten days later Steve set out from the mountains, seventeen of the trappers who had fled from the settlement accompanying him. Jim and Mac and Pete were there, while Silver Fox, wrapped in his blanket, taciturn and silent, strode on in advance, his keen eyes noting everything, his nostrils agape as if he already scented the smoke from the camp fires of the Shawnee Indians, hereditary foes of his race, with whom he hoped to meet before the conflict was ended.

And so with the encouraging cheers of George Washington's ragged soldiers ringing in their ears, the party set out, Steve their acknowledged leader, and turned their faces for Albany. They plunged into the forest within a few minutes, and stole along, a silent band, clad in moccasins and trapper's leather. Icy blasts occasionally reached them, while leaves of every tinge and shade slid from the trees and pattered in their faces. The winter was at hand, and before Steve and his band had reached their destination the frosts had commenced and some snow had fallen. Little did they care for the cold. These hardy huntsmen entered Fort William Henry ruddy and browned by exposure, their honest faces displaying their enthusiasm and the eagerness which all felt to commence the contest. Nor were they kept long impatient. For the French were close at hand, and, indeed, had come within sight of the fort that very morning.

"I am glad to see you," said the commander, as he shook Steve's hand. "You will find your own quarters, and draw your rations as do the others. To-morrow you will see what the French are doing. A dozen of our poor fellows were ambushed and slaughtered yesterday."

Steve saluted and returned to his men. That evening their arrangements were completed, and as the first streak of dawn lit up the gloomy forest surroundings of Fort William Henry, he and his men stole from the fort in single file, and, passing the sentries and outposts, disappeared one by one amongst the trees and brambles. They were alone again, dependent on their own courage and exertions, and conscious of the fact that a remorseless enemy might pounce upon them at any moment.

Chapter X

Steve and his Band of Scouts

"The first thing that we have to do is to muster our forces and divide up the work," said Steve, when his party of trappers and hunters who were to act as scouts had left Fort William Henry a mile or more behind them. "Without organisation we shall be nowhere. We cannot live out here and do good work unless we rest, and if we wish to live we must not dream of resting all together. There would be a very sad tale to tell if we were so careless."

He called gently to Jim and Mac, who happened to be in rear of him, and at a signal from the latter the band of scouts gathered about their young leader, flitting noiselessly amongst the trees. As for Steve, looking tanned and weather-beaten, and as fine and independent a young leader as could well be found, he leaned against the lichen-covered trunk of a small oak, from which the leaves had long been shed, and kicked his snow-shoes from his feet.

"Make yourselves easy, boys," he said. "We'll discuss matters."

"One minute, Cap'n," answered Jim, shouldering his musket and facing round. "Now, boys, you ain't forgot what we've been talkin' about. Get into yer places, jest to let the Cap'n see as you know what's wanted. Hem! Form line! Pete, you're a foot or two out in yer calculations. Jest hop back a piece; and Mac, didn't I tell yer back there in the fort that an old soljer such as you air should know better how to range up with the company?"

Steve was amazed, and watched with a twinkle of amusement in his steady eyes as the band of backwoodsmen shambled into line, a line remarkable rather for its broken appearance and for its irregular gaps than for regularity. For the lusty and courageous backwoodsmen who till that day knew no master, who had fought and hunted in their own manner, without direction from any one, and more often than not with themselves alone to look to for leadership and advice, had little or no notion of discipline. They scoffed at leaders as a general rule, and at formation of any description. And in consequence the argument which had induced them at length to conform to Jim's wishes had waxed hot and furious.

"We've been settin' our heads together, Cap'n," said Jim, as he ran his eye down the ragged line of staunch backwoodsmen and scowled at Mac and a few others who did not show that amount of interest in the movement which pleased him. "We've seen what them chaps air like way back at the fort, and we reckoned that after all a bit of discipline air wanted. Yer see, supposin' we was called together all of a sudden, and them skunks of redskins war close handy, waal, if we hadn't any idea of order, where should we all be? Reckon the most of us would be jawin' and tellin' the others what to do. Waal, that ain't the thing to keep scalps on our heads. We want to collect quick as a flash and wait for a command. Ef you don't happen to be handy, then me or Mac or Pete, jest in that order, ef it's agreeable to you, 'll take over the post of leader for the time, and there won't be no – no – what's the word boys?"

"Confusion," suggested Steve quietly, suppressing the smile of amusement which was on his lips and stepping into his snow-shoes again. For all of a sudden he realized that these men who had so willingly placed themselves under his command were serious, desperately serious, and meant to do their utmost to get even with the enemy and wrest back from him the possessions which they had lost. The fine fellows were ready to sacrifice some of their much-cherished independence with the one object of making success more assured. He ran his eye down the rank of stalwart trappers, and noted Jim's slim proportions, his tall, wiry figure. Then Mac's flaming red beard caught his attention, and he looked with open approval at the sturdy, short figure of the Irishman, who stood at attention, his musket to the shoulder, his eye fixed on his leader. A glance, in fact, was sufficient to show that he alone of the whole company present had had some experience of drill and discipline. There, too, was Pete, his bulky figure bursting almost from his hunting shirt, his head and ears swathed in a huge coon-skin cap. Of the others, tall and short, slim or more sturdily built, there was not one who had not the appearance of a hardy backwoodsman. There was a keen look in every face, and if he had not known it before, the manner in which this band had slipped from the fort that morning and made their way into the forest told him that all were skilled in such work, that every man had had experience and could be counted on to act with the stealth and cunning of the oldest Indians. Though all with the exception of Mac lounged on their muskets in the most unmilitary style, Steve felt gratified at this the first sign of some attention to discipline. He swept his eye along the line again and let it rest on Silver Fox for the space of a second. The Mohawk warrior stood behind the line of men, resting upon his firearm, the fringes of his moccasins trailing into the snow at his feet. There was a look almost of scorn on his sharply-chiselled features, a look which seemed to say that he of all the party thought such a movement unnecessary.

"With men of my race such a thing is unnecessary, Hawk," he said in his slow, gutteral tones. "With us there is a leader, and when danger comes on the sudden the chirrup of a bird, the call of a wild cat, or the screech of an owl brings all together. Then he who speaks is the chief. If others dare to open their lips they die. With these comrades other methods are wanted perhaps. If so they are good. These are all brave men, and are here to fight and not to play. Silver Fox is satisfied."

"And I too," cried Steve, as he strode down the ranks and passed a word with every man. "Boys, you have done me the honour of accepting me as your leader, and I will do my best for you. I think that we all have the same cause for coming here. We have something to win back from the French and their Indians, and we have a king who asks for our help. I am glad to see that you are prepared to obey some sort of discipline, for it will certainly help us in case we should ever get into a tight place. It will be of service too when we are in action, and I for one have come here to fight, to do my best to drive back the French and their Indians."

There was a general shuffling of snow-shoes at his words, a restless movement along the ragged line which told that the men approved. Had regular soldiers been there they would have tossed their caps on to their bayonets and cheered. But these backwoodsmen knew well that a shout might bring a hornet's nest about their ears, and more than that, custom had taught them to be taciturn as a rule, to be silent and thoughtful, given to deeds and not to words.

"And we're all here to do the same," burst in Jim. "Reckon me and you, Cap'n, and every boy here, has a bone to clean with them 'ere French, and ef we hadn't er guessed as you would most likely show us some fightin', why – "

"Sure ye know we'd not have been here," sang out Mac, his long friendship with Steve and Jim overcoming all discipline. "But Hawk'll show us the way, bhoys, and remimber, ivery one of ye, that till we can drive these men back to their own counthry there'll be no peace for us, their murtherin' Indians will be rhunnin' over our sittlemints, and our wives and childer, God kape the darlints! will be back there where we've lift 'em, waitin' and longin' for their homes."

There was a low growl from the ragged rank at that, and the backwoodsmen instinctively gripped the barrels of their ponderous muskets. There was now a stern look in their eyes, a look which boded ill for the enemy.

"Then we are all agreed," sang out Steve. "Now for ways and means. I propose that we live out of the fort. Men there are dying daily from infectious disease, while those who form the garrison have little to do but grumble. Let us take up our quarters out here in the forest. We are used to roughing it, and know well how to provide against severe weather."

"Seth Shorter! Where air yer, Seth? Ah, then step forward and speak up," sang out Jim at this moment. "Now, Cap'n, Seth here has been born and brought up close to these lakes, and I reckon he'll know every inch of the ground. Ef we're to live out in the forest, he's the boy to say where. As for livin' out, why we're all for that, for who'd want to stay in there at the fort?"

He pointed a contemptuous finger in the direction of Fort William Henry where they had spent the previous night, and where even that short experience had taught them that life in the British stronghold was not one altogether to be desired. For, as Steve had said, men died fast from disease, while the hours hung terribly heavy for all who formed the garrison.

"Now, Seth, where air this camp of ours to be?" demanded Jim, slouching up to the sturdy backwoodsman who had been called upon, and slapping him upon the shoulder with his gloved hand. "Where air the place, lad?"

"Thar ain't a doubt where we should camp," came the ready answer. "It's like this, Cap'n and mates. Here's Wood Creek running down from the foot of Lake Champlain, and alongside of it thar's Lake St. George, which is a good deal bigger. Waal, up thar, at the foot of Champlain, there's Crown Point, one of them Frenchie's forts, and below that they've Ticonderoga building. Between Lake St. George and Wood Creek thar's a tidy strip of land and wood, and ef thar's a place as I know, why – "

"You are acquainted with that," interrupted Steve, eagerly. "Well?"

"Waal, thar's a bit of a stretch o' rocky ground at the foot of that strip o' land, and thar ain't a tree on it for quite a bit. All round's forest, same as this, and then thar's the frozen lakes. Now, Cap'n, I've shot and trapped over that 'ere place scores o' times, and me and a mate once did a winter's outin' thar, trappin' and collectin' pelts. We was, as you might say, jest as this 'ere party air. We was lookin' for a campin' ground whar we could live in spite of weather, and whar we could have a show ef them red-skinned varmint comed along."

"And yer found it?" asked Jim eagerly.

"You bet. That thar rocky ground has got a kind of nose on it. It kicks up into the air all of a sudden, jest a hundred feet perhaps, and right at the top it dips jest as sudden. That dip air about the size to take this party, and with a few trees across the top and a lacing of reeds the snow'll lie and form a roof which looks as natural – waal – "

"As possible," suggested Steve.

"Right, Cap'n. As natural as possible I reckon. From that ere place a few of us chaps could hold up a hundred and more of the varmint ef we had a supply of victuals."

"Then we'll make for it and inspect," said Steve promptly. "How far is it from the fort?"

"A matter of five mile perhaps, mate, I mean Cap'n."

"The same, my lad," laughed Steve. "We are all mates on this trail. But one word before we move. You are all more experienced than I am, and since you have decided to follow some sort of discipline, I will say nothing more about it, but leave the matter to you alone. But once we have our quarters we will divide into watches, and select hunters and scouts. Now, Seth, just give us a lead."

The trapper shuffled over the snow at once, his musket flung over his shoulder, and without seeming to take note of his position strode off at right angles to the course which they had been following. As promptly his comrades divided into parties, which had been arranged by Jim and Mac, and while some trailed off after Seth and Steve, others moved away like ghosts into the forests to act as flanking guards. And as Steve cast his eye to right and left he caught sight of their figures every now and again, silently flitting between the trees, each man listening intently, noting every little sign, and still keeping in touch with the main party. Ten minutes later the hoot of an owl brought the trappers together.

"Thar's been redskins and Frenchies here," said one of the band, as he pointed to a narrow track in the snow. "They passed last night, I should reckon."

"And blazed a fresh trail," added Steve swiftly. "Look over there."

His sharp eye had seen a white clip in the side of a tree some distance away, and closer inspection and a little search showed that he was not in error.

"The Hawk has an eye of which the finest chief might be proud," said Silver Fox. "These men passed in the afternoon of yesterday. There were ten of them."

"And one was less accustomed to shoes than the others," said Steve swiftly. "He was a pale face."

"He was. The Hawk can read the signs as I have already learned. One was a pale face, and he led. They went towards the fort, blazing a new track. They returned across the ice."

There was an exclamation at that from some of the trappers who up till lately had been unacquainted with Silver Fox. But Jim silenced the doubts of his comrades promptly.

"How's that, chief?" he asked in the Mohawk, which all the party understood. "How did you get that reckonin'?"

"Ask the Hawk," was the curt answer. "He read these signs, and he knew how they returned."

"It is easy to guess at their track back, but one cannot say absolutely for sure," smiled Steve. "Look at the tracks of their shoes here, boys. Well, there are no return traces. Yesterday they made in the direction of Fort William, and I guess that they were back at their own quarters before night fell. Remember how cold it was and how it began to blow in the early afternoon."

"It did that," exclaimed one of the men. "The snow was sweeping over the ice on the lakes."

"Just so, and the clouds of snow hid them well. They slipped from the forest on to the ice, and with the wind behind them were almost blown back home, while their traces were covered. Here, in the forest, where the full force of the wind was not so much felt, their tracks are pretty clear. They are home again, boys, and we can do nothing with them to-day. But another time – "