True to the Old Flag: A Tale of the American War of Independence

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XIII.

  SARATOGA.

  "What is your report?" asked General Burgoyne, as the scouts wereconducted into his tent.

  "We have discovered, sir, that the Americans have strongly fortifiedMount Independence, which faces Ticonderoga, and have connected the twoplaces by a bridge across the river, which is protected by a strongboom. Both positions are, however, overlooked by Sugar Hill, and thisthey have entirely neglected to fortify. If you were to seize this theywould have to retire at once."

  The general expressed his satisfaction at the news and gave orders thatsteps should be taken to seize Sugar Hill immediately. He thenquestioned the scouts as to their adventures and praised them highly fortheir conduct.

  The next day the army advanced, and at nightfall both divisions were intheir places, having arrived within an hour or two of each other fromthe opposite sides of the lake. Sugar Hill was seized the same night,and a strong party were set to work cutting a road through the trees.The next morning the enemy discovered the British at work erecting abattery on the hill, and their general decided to evacuate bothTiconderoga and Mount Independence instantly. Their baggage, provisions,and stores were embarked in two hundred boats and sent up the river. Thearmy started to march by the road.

  The next morning the English discovered that the Americans haddisappeared. Captain Lutwych immediately set to work to destroy thebridge and boom, whose construction had taken the Americans nearlytwelve months' labor. By nine in the morning a passage was effected, andsome gunboats passed through in pursuit of the enemy's convoy. Theyovertook them near Skenesborough, engaged and captured many of theirlargest craft, and obliged them to set several others on fire, togetherwith a large number of their boats and barges.

  A few hours afterward a detachment of British troops in gunboats came upthe river to Skenesborough. The cannon on the works which the Americanshad erected there opened fire, but the troops were landed, and the enemyat once evacuated their works, setting fire to their store-houses andmills. While these operations had been going on by water BrigadierGeneral Fraser, at the head of the advance corps of grenadiers and lightinfantry, pressed hard upon the division of the enemy which had retiredby the Hubberton Road, and overtook them at five o'clock in the morning.

  The division consisted of fifteen hundred of the best colonial troopsunder the command of Colonel Francis. They were posted on strong groundand sheltered by breastworks composed of logs and old trees. GeneralFraser's detachment was inferior in point of numbers to that of thedefenders of the position, but as he expected a body of the Germantroops under General Reidesel to arrive immediately, he at once attackedthe breastworks. The Americans defended their post with great resolutionand bravery. The re-enforcements did not arrive so soon as was expected,and for some time the British made no way.

  General Reidesel, hearing the fire in front, pushed forward at fullspeed with a small body of troops. Among these was the band, which heordered to play.

  The enemy, hearing the music and supposing that the whole of theGerman troops had come up, evacuated the position and fell backwith precipitation. Colonel Francis and many others were killed andtwo hundred taken prisoners. On the English side 120 men werekilled and wounded.

  The enemy from Skenesborough were pursued by Colonel Hill, with theNinth Regiment, and were overtaken near Fort Anne. Finding how small wasthe force that pursued them in comparison to their own, they took theoffensive. A hot engagement took place, and after three hours' fightingthe Americans were repulsed with great slaughter and forced to retreatafter setting fire to Fort Anne and Fort Edward.

  In these operations the British captured 148 guns, with large quantitiesof stores. At Fort Edward General Schuyler was joined by General St.Clair, but even with this addition the total American strength did notexceed forty-four hundred.

  Instead of returning from Skenesborough to Ticonderoga, whence he mighthave sailed with his army up to Lake George, General Burgoyne proceededto cut his way through the woods to the lake. The difficulties of thepassage were immense: swamps and morasses had to be passed, bridges hadto be constructed over creeks, ravines, and gulleys. The troops workedwith great vigor and spirit. Major General Phillips had returned to LakeGeorge and transported the artillery, provisions, and baggage to FortGeorge and thence by land to a point on the Hudson River, together witha large number of boats for the use of the army in their intendeddescent to Albany.

  So great was the labor entailed by this work that it was not until July30 that the army arrived on the Hudson River. The delay of three weekshad afforded the enemy time to recover their spirits and recruit theirstrength. General Arnold arrived with a strong re-enforcement, and aforce was detached to check the progress of Colonel St. Leger, who wascoming down from Montreal by way of Lake Ontario and the Mohawk River toeffect a junction with General Burgoyne.

  General Burgoyne determined to advance at once. The army was alreadysuffering from want of transportation, and he decided to send a body oftroops to Bennington, twenty-four miles to the eastward of the HudsonRiver, where the Americans had large supplies collected. Instead ofsending light infantry he dispatched six hundred Germans--the worsttroops he could have selected for this purpose, as they were veryheavily armed and marched exceedingly slowly. Several of the officersremonstrated with him, but with his usual infatuated obstinacy hemaintained his disposition.

  On approaching Bennington Colonel Baum, who commanded the Germans, foundthat a very strong force was gathered there. He sent back forre-enforcements, and five hundred more Germans, under Lieutenant ColonelBreyman, were dispatched to his assistance. Long, however, before theseslowly moving troops could arrive Colonel Baum was attacked by the enemyin vastly superior numbers. The Germans fought with great bravery andseveral times charged the Americans and drove them back. Fresh troopscontinued to come up on the enemy's side, and the Germans, having lost alarge number of men, including their colonel, were forced to retreatinto the woods. The enemy then advanced against Colonel Breyman, who wasignorant of the disaster that had befallen Baum, and with his detachmenthad occupied twenty-four hours in marching sixteen miles. The Germansagain fought well, but after a gallant resistance were obliged to fallback. In these two affairs they lost six hundred men.

  In the meantime Colonel St. Leger had commenced his attack upon FortStanwix, which was defended by seven hundred men. The American GeneralHerkimer advanced with one thousand men to its relief. Colonel St.Leger detached Sir John Johnson with a party of regulars and a numberof Indians, who had accompanied him, to meet them. The enemy advancedincautiously and fell into an ambush. A terrible fire was poured intothem, and the Indians then rushed down and attacked them hand to hand.The Americans, although taken by surprise, fought bravely andsucceeded in making their retreat, leaving four hundred killed andwounded behind them.

  Colonel St. Leger had no artillery which was capable of making anyimpression on the defenses of the fort. Its commander sent out a manwho, pretending to be a deserter, entered the British camp and informedColonel St. Leger that General Burgoyne had been defeated and his armycut to pieces, and that General Arnold, with two thousand men, wasadvancing to raise the siege. Colonel St. Leger did not credit the news,but it created a panic among the Indians, the greater portion of whom atonce retired without orders, and St. Leger, having but a small Britishforce with him, was compelled to follow their example, leaving hisartillery and stores behind him.

  On September 13 General Burgoyne, having with immense labor collectedthirty days' provisions on the Hudson, crossed the river by a bridge ofboats and encamped on the heights of Saratoga. His movements had beenimmensely hampered by the vast train of artillery which he took withhim. In an open country a powerful force of artillery is of the greatestservice to an army, but in a campaign in a wooded and roadless countryit is of little utility and enormously hampers the operations of anarmy. Had General Burgoyne, after the capture of Ticonderoga, pressedforward in light order without artillery, he could unquestionably havemarched to New York w
ithout meeting with any serious opposition, but thesix weeks' delay had enabled the Americans to collect a great force tooppose them.

  On the 19th, as the army were advancing to Stillwater, five thousand ofthe enemy attacked the British right. They were led by General Arnoldand fought with great bravery and determination. The brunt of the battlefell on the Twentieth, Twenty-fourth, and Sixty-second regiments. Forfour hours the fight continued without any advantage on either side, andat nightfall the Americans drew off, each side having lost about sixhundred men. After the battle of Stillwater the whole of the Indianswith General Burgoyne left him and returned to Canada.

  Hampered with his great train of artillery, unprovided withtransportation, in the face of a powerful enemy posted in an exceedinglystrong position, General Burgoyne could neither advance nor retreat. Theforage was exhausted and the artillery horses were dying in greatnumbers. He had hoped that Sir William Howe would have sailed up theHudson and joined him, but the English commander-in-chief had taken hisarmy down to Philadelphia. Sir Henry Clinton, who commanded at New York,endeavored with a small force at his command to make a diversion byoperating against the American posts on the Hudson River, but this wasof no utility.

  Burgoyne's army was now reduced to little more than five thousand men,and he determined to fall back upon the lakes. Before doing this,however, it would be necessary to dislodge the Americans from theirposts on his left. Leaving the camp under the command of GeneralHamilton, Burgoyne advanced with fifteen hundred men against them. Butscarcely had the detachment started when the enemy made a furious attackon the British left. Major Ackland, with the grenadiers, was postedhere, and for a time defended himself with great bravery. The lightinfantry and Twenty-fourth were sent to their assistance, but,overpowered by numbers, the left wing was forced to retreat into theirintrenchments. These the enemy, led by General Arnold, at once attackedwith great impetuosity. For a long time the result was doubtful, and itwas not until the American leader was wounded that the attack ceased. Inthe meantime the intrenchments defended by the German troops underColonel Breyman had also been attacked. Here the fight was obstinate,but the German intrenchments were carried, Colonel Breyman killed, andhis troops retreated with the loss of all their baggage and artillery.Two hundred prisoners fell into the hands of the Americans.

  That night the British army was concentrated on the heights above thehospital. General Gates, who commanded the Americans, moved his army soas to entirely inclose the British, and the latter, on the night ofOctober 8, retired to Saratoga, being obliged to leave all their sickand wounded in the hospital. These were treated with the greatestkindness by the Americans. An attempt was now made to retreat to FortGeorge or Fort Edward, but the Americans had taken up positions on eachroad and fortified them with cannon.

  Only about thirty-five hundred fighting men now remained, of whom butone-half were British, and scarcely eight days' provisions were left.The enemy, four times superior in point of numbers, held every line ofretreat and eluded every attempt of the British to force them to ageneral engagement.

  The position was hopeless, and on October 13 a council of war was heldand it was determined to open negotiations for a surrender. Two dayswere spent in negotiations, and it was finally agreed that the armyshould lay down its arms and that it should be marched to Boston, andthere allowed to sail for England on condition of not serving again inNorth America during the contest. The Canadians were to be allowed toreturn at once to their own country. On the 16th the army laid down itsarms. It consisted of thirty-five hundred fighting men and six hundredsick and nearly two thousand boatmen, teamsters, and othernon-effectives.

  Never did a general behave with greater incompetence than thatmanifested by General Burgoyne from the day of his leaving Ticonderoga,and the disaster which befell his army was entirely the result ofmismanagement, procrastination, and faulty generalship.

  Had Harold remained with the army until its surrender his share in thewar would have been at an end, for the Canadians, as well as all otherswho laid down their arms, gave their word of honor not to serve againduring the war. He had, however, with Peter Lambton and Jake,accompanied Colonel Baum's detachment on its march to Bennington.Scouting in front of the column, they had ascertained the presence oflarge numbers of the enemy, and had, by hastening back with the news,enabled the German colonel to make some preparations for resistancebefore the attack was made upon him. During the fight that ensued thescouts, posted behind trees on the German left, had assisted them torepel the attack from that quarter, and when the Germans gave way theyeffected their escape into the woods and managed to rejoin the army.

  They had continued with it until it moved to the hospital heights afterthe disastrous attack by the Americans on their camp. General Burgoynethen sent for Peter Lambton, who was, he knew, one of his most activeand intelligent scouts.

  "Could you make your way through the enemy's lines down toTiconderoga?" he asked.

  "I could try, general," Peter said. "Me and the party who work with mecould get through if anyone could, but more nor that I can't say. TheYanks are swarming around pretty thick, I reckon; but if we have luck wemight make a shift to get through."

  "I have hopes," the general said, "that another regiment, for which Iasked General Carleton, has arrived there. Here is a letter to GeneralPowell, who is in command, to beg him to march with all his availableforce and fall upon the enemy posted on our line of communication.Unless the new regiment has reached him he will not have a sufficientforce to attempt this, but, if this has come up, he may be able to doso. He is to march in the lightest order and at full speed, so as totake the enemy by surprise. Twelve hours before he starts you will bringme back news of his coming, and I will move out to meet him. Hisoperations in their rear will confuse the enemy and enable me to operatewith a greater chance of success. I tell you this because, if you aresurrounded and in difficulties, you may have to destroy my dispatch. Youcan then convey my instructions by word of mouth to General Powell ifyou succeed in getting through."

  Upon leaving headquarters Peter joined his friends.

  "It's a risksome business," he went on, after informing them of theinstructions he had received, "but I don't know as it's much morerisksome than stopping here. It don't seem to me that this army is liketo get out of the trap into which their general has led 'em. Whatever hewanted to leave the lakes for is more nor I can tell. However,generaling aint my business, and I wouldn't change places with the oldman to-day, not for a big sum of money. Now, chief, what do you say?How's this 'ere business to be carried out?"

  The Seneca, with the five braves who had from the first accompaniedthem, were now the only Indians with the British army. The rest of theredskins, disgusted with the dilatory progress of the army andforeseeing inevitable disaster, had all betaken themselves to theirhomes. They were, moreover, angered at the severity with which theEnglish general had endeavored to suppress their tendency to acts ofcruelty on the defenseless settlers. The redskin has no idea ofcivilized warfare. His sole notion of fighting is to kill, burn, anddestroy, and the prohibition of all irregular operations and of theinfliction of unnecessary suffering was, in his eyes, an act ofincomprehensible weakness. The Seneca chief remained with the armysimply because his old comrade did so. He saw that there was littlechance of plunder, but he and his braves had succeeded in fair fight inobtaining many scalps, and would, at least, be received with high honoron their return to their tribe.

  A long discussion took place between the chief and Peter before theyfinally decided upon the best course to be pursued. They were ignorantof the country and of the disposition of the enemy's force, and couldonly decide to act upon general principles. They thought it probablethat the Americans would be most thickly posted upon the line betweenthe British army and the lakes, and their best chance of success wouldtherefore be to make their way straight ahead for some distance, andthen, when they had penetrated the American lines, to make a long_detour_ round to the lakes.

  Taking four days' provis
ions with them they started when nightfall hadfairly set in. It was intensely dark, and in the shadows of the woodsHarold was unable to see his hand before him. The Indians appeared tohave a faculty of seeing in the dark, for they advanced without theslightest pause or hesitation and were soon in the open country. Thegreatest vigilance was now necessary. Everywhere they could hear the lowhum which betokens the presence of many men gathered together. Sometimesa faint shout came to their ears, and for a long distance around theglow in the sky told of many fires. The party now advanced with thegreatest caution, frequently halting while the Indians went on ahead toscout; and more than once they were obliged to alter their direction asthey came upon bodies of men posted across their front. At last theypassed through the line of sentinels, and, avoiding all the camps,gained the country in the Americans' rear.

  They now struck off to the right, and by daybreak were far round beyondthe American army, on their way to Ticonderoga. They had walked forfifteen hours when they halted, and it was not until late in theafternoon that they continued their journey. They presently struck theroad which the army had cut in its advance, and keeping parallel withthis through the forest they arrived the next morning at Fort Edward. Afew hours' rest here and they continued their march to Ticonderoga. Thisplace had been attacked by the Americans a few days previously, but thegarrison had beaten off the assailants.

  On the march they had seen many bodies of the enemy moving along theroad, but their approach had in every case been detected in time to takerefuge in the forest. On entering the fort Peter at once proceeded toGeneral Powell's quarters and delivered the dispatch with which he hadbeen intrusted. The general read it.

  "No re-enforcements have arrived," the general said, "and the force hereis barely sufficient to defend the place. It would be madness for me toset out on such a march with the handful of troops at my disposal."

  He then questioned Peter concerning the exact position of the army, andthe latter had no hesitation in saying that he thought the whole forcewould be compelled to lay down their arms unless some re-enforcementsreached them from below.

  This, however, was not to be. General Clinton captured Forts Montgomeryand Clinton, the latter a very strong position, defended with greatresolution by four hundred Americans. The Seventh and Twenty-sixthregiments and a company of grenadiers attacked on one side, theSixty-third Regiment on the other. They had no cannon to cover theiradvance and had to cross ground swept by ten pieces of artillery. In noevent during the war did the British fight with more resolution.Without firing a shot they pressed forward to the foot of the works,climbed over each other's shoulders on to the walls, and drove theenemy back. The latter discharged one last volley into the troops andthen laid down their arms. Notwithstanding the slaughter effected bythis wanton fire after all possibility of continuing a resistance wasover, quarter was given and not one of the enemy was killed after thefort was taken. The British loss was 140 killed and wounded; 300Americans were killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. The fleet attackedthe American squadron on the river and entirely destroyed it. Beyondsending a flying squadron up the river to destroy the enemy's boats andstores of provisions, nothing further could be done to effect adiversion in favor of General Burgoyne.

  Four days after Harold's arrival at Ticonderoga the news of thesurrender of General Burgoyne reached the place. Upon the following dayhe suggested to Peter Lambton that they should visit the clearing of theex-soldier Cameron and see whether their interference had saved him andhis family. Upon arriving at the spot whence Harold had fired the shotwhich had brought discovery upon them, they saw a few charred stumpsalone remaining of the snug house which had stood there. In front of it,upon the stump of a tree, Cameron himself was sitting in an attitude ofutter depression.

  They walked across the clearing to the spot, but although the sound oftheir footsteps must have reached his ear, the man did not look up untilHarold touched him on the shoulder.

  "What has happened?" he asked. "Who has done this ruin?"

  The man still remained with his head bent down, as if he had not heardthe question.

  "We had hoped that you had escaped," Harold went on. "We were hidden inthe wood when we saw those ruffians drive your wife and daughter out,and it was the shot from my rifle that killed their leader and broughtthem down on us; and a narrow escape we had of it; but we hoped that wehad diverted them from their determination to kill you and your family."

  Cameron looked up now.

  "I thank ye, sir," he said. "I thank ye wi' a' my hairt for yourinterference on our behalf. I heerd how closely ye were beset thatnight and how ye escaped. They thought nae mair o' us, and when theroyal army arrived the next day we were safe; but ye might as weel ha'let the matter gang on--better, indeed, for then I should be deedinstead o' suffering. This wark," and he pointed toward the remains ofthe house, "is redskin deviltry. A fortnight sin' a band o' Indiansfell upon us. I was awa'. They killed my wife and burned my house andha' carried off my bairn."

  "Who were they?" Harold asked.

  "I dinna ken," Cameron replied; "but a neebor o' mine whose place theyattacked, and whom they had scalped and left for deed, told me that theywere a band o' the Iroquois who had come down from Lake Michigan andadvanced wi' the British. He said that they, with the other redskins,desairted when their hopes o' plunder were disappointed, and that ontheir way back to their tribes they burned and ravaged every settlementthey cam' across. My neebor was an old frontiersman; he had foughtagainst the tribe and knew their war-cry. He deed the next day. He wasmair lucky than I am."

  "The tarnal ruffians!" Peter exclaimed; "the murdering varmints! And tothink of 'em carrying off that purty little gal of yours! I suppose bythis time they're at their old game of plundering and slaying on thefrontier. It's naught to them which side they fight on; scalps andplunder is all they care for."

  The unfortunate settler had sat down again on the log, the picture of abroken-hearted man. Harold drew Peter a short distance away.

  "Look here. Peter," he said. "Now Burgoyne's army has surrendered andwinter is close at hand, it is certain that there will be no furtheroperations here, except perhaps that the Americans will recapture theplace. What do you say to our undertaking an expedition on our ownaccount to try and get back this poor fellow's daughter? I do not knowwhether the Seneca would join us, but we three--of course I countJake--and the settler might do something. I have an old grudge againstthese Iroquois myself, as you have heard; and for aught I know they maylong ere this have murdered my cousins."

  "The Seneca will jine," Peter said, "willing enough. There's an old feudbetween his tribe and the Iroquois. He'll jine fast enough. But mind,youngster, this aint no child's play; it aint like fighting themAmerican clodhoppers. We'll have to deal with men as sharp as ourselves,who can shoot as well, hear as well, see as well, who are in their owncountry, and who are a hundred to one against us. We've got hundreds andhundreds of miles to travel afore we gets near 'em. It's a big job; butif, when ye thinks it all over, you're ready to go, Peter Lambton aintthe man to hold back. As you say, there's naught to do this winter, andwe might as well be doing this as anything else."

  The two men then went back to the settler.

  "Cameron," Harold said, "it is of no use sitting here grieving. Why notbe up in pursuit of those who carried off your daughter?"

  The man sprang to his feet.

  "In pursuit!" he cried fiercely; "in pursuit! Do ye think Donald Cameronwad be sitting here quietly if he kenned where to look for hisdaughter--where to find the murderers o' his wife? But what can I do?For three days after I cam' back and found what had happened I was justmad. I couldna think nor rest, nor do aught but throw mysel' on theground and pray to God to tak' me. When at last I could think, it wastoo late. It wad hae mattered naething to me that they were a hundred toone. If I could ha' killed but one o' them I wad ha' died happy; butthey were gone, and how could I follow them--how could I find them? Tellme where to look, mon--show me the way; and if it be to the ends o' theairth I
will go after them."

  "We will do more, than that," Harold said. "My friend and myself havestill with us the seven men who were with us when we were here before.Five are Senecas, the other a faithful negro who would go through fireand water for me. There is little chance of our services being requiredduring the winter with the British army. We, are interested in you andin the pretty child we saw here, and, if you will, we will accompany youin the search for her. Peter Lambton knows the country well, and ifanyone could lead you to your child and rescue her from those whocarried her off, he is the man."

  "Truly!" gasped the Scotchman. "And will ye truly gang wi' me to findmy bairn? May the guid God o' heaven bless you!" and the tears ran downhis cheeks.

  "Git your traps together at once, man," Peter said. "Let's go straightback to the fort; then I'll set the matter before the chief, who will, Iwarrant me, be glad enough to jine the expedition. It's too late tofollow the track of the red varmints; our best plan will be to makestraight for the St. Lawrence; to take a boat if we can git one; if not,two canoes; and to make up the river and along the Ontario. Then we mustsell our boat, cross to Erie, and git fresh canoes and go on by Detroitinto Lake Huron, and so up in the country of these reptiles. We shallhave no difficulty, I reckon, in discovering the whereabout of the tribewhich has been away on this expedition."

  The Scotchman took up the rifle.

  "I am ready," he said, and without another word the party startedfor the fort.

  Upon their arrival there a consultation was held with the Seneca. Theprospect of an expedition against his hereditary foes filled him withdelight, and three of his braves also agreed to accompany them. Jakereceived the news with the remark:

  "All right, Massa Harold. It make no odds to dis chile whar he goes. Yousay de word--Jake ready."

  Half an hour sufficed for making the preparations, and they at onceproceeded to the point where they had hidden the two canoes on the nightwhen they joined General Burgoyne before his advance upon Ticonderoga.These were soon floating on the lake, and they started to paddle to themouth of the Sorrel, down this river into the St. Lawrence, and thenceto Montreal. Their rifles they had recovered from the lake upon the dayfollowing that on which Ticonderoga was first captured; Deer Tail havingdispatched to the spot two of his braves, who recovered them withoutdifficulty, by diving, and brought them back to the fort.

  At Montreal they stayed but a few hours. An ample supply of ammunitionwas purchased and provisions sufficient for the voyage; and then,embarking in the two canoes, they started up the St. Lawrence. It wasthree weeks later when they arrived at Detroit, which was garrisoned bya British force. Here they heard that there had been continuous troubleswith the Indians on the frontier; that a great many farms andsettlements had been destroyed, and numbers of persons murdered.

  Their stay at Detroit was a short one. Harold obtained no news of hiscousins, but there were so many tales told of Indian massacres that hewas filled with apprehension on their account. His worst apprehensionswere justified when the canoes at length came within sight of thewell-remembered clearing. Harold gave a cry as he saw that the farmhouseno longer existed. The two canoes were headed toward shore, and theiroccupants disembarked and walked toward the spot where the house hadstood. The site was marked by a heap of charred embers. The outhouseshad been destroyed, and a few fowls were the only living things to beseen in the fields.

  "This here business must have taken place some time ago," Peter said,breaking the silence. "A month, I should say, or p'r'aps more."

  For a time Harold was too moved to speak. The thought of his kindcousins and their brave girl all murdered by the Indians filled him withdeep grief. At last he said:

  "What makes you think so, Peter?"

  "It's easy enough to see as it was after the harvest, for ye see thefields is all clear. And then there's long grass shooting up through theashes. It would take a full month, p'r'aps six weeks, afore it would dothat. Don't you think so, chief?"

  The Seneca nodded.

  "A moon," he said.

  "Yes, about a month," replied Peter. "The grass grows quick afterthe rains."

  "Do you think that it was a surprise, Peter?"

  "No man can tell," the hunter answered. "If we had seen the place soonafterward we might have told. There would have been marks of blood. Orif the house had stood we could have told by the bullet-holes and thecolor of the splintered wood how it happened and how long back. As itis, not even the chief can give ye an idea."

  "Not an attack," the Seneca said; "a surprise."

  "How on arth do you know that, chief?" the hunter exclaimed insurprise, and he looked round in search of some sign which would haveenabled the Seneca to have given so confident an opinion. "You must bea witch, surely."

  "A chief's eyes are not blind," the redskin answered, with aslight smile of satisfaction at having for once succeeded when hiswhite comrade was at fault. "Let my friend look up the hill--twodead men there."

  Harold looked in the direction in which the chief pointed, but could seenothing. The hunter exclaimed:

  "There's something there, chief, but even my eyes couldn't tell theywere bodies."

  The party proceeded to the spot and found two skeletons. A few remnantsof clothes lay around, but the birds had stripped every particle offlesh from the bones. There was a bullet in the forehead of one skull;the other was cleft with a sharp instrument.

  "It's clear enough," the hunter said, "there's been a surprise. Likelyenough the hull lot was killed without a shot being fired in defense."