“We’ll have to go ashore for the night,” said Silvers. “More than likely the wind will die down during the night.”
After their varied experiences of the day, Dave and Henry were not sorry to leave the oars and take it easy in a sheltered spot picked out by the leader of the expedition. After a careful survey of the location, to make certain that no enemies were near, a tiny camp-fire was lit in a hollow, and over this were broiled some fish which Henry and Raymond caught.
Silvers had been ordered to keep a constant guard both on the lake and on the land by Sir William Johnson, and when it came time to lie down to sleep he divided the night into watches of an hour and a half each, so that all might share in the duty and yet get the benefit of sufficient rest for the next day’s work.
Henry was on guard from half-past ten until midnight, when Dave relieved him.
“Have you seen anything?” asked Dave, as he arose and stretched himself, for he had been sleeping soundly.
“Nothing at all,” answered his cousin, in a whisper, so as not to arouse the others. “It looks to me as if a guard is unnecessary; but we have got to obey orders.”
But little more was said, and in a few minutes Henry was sleeping peacefully, on a mossy bank close to Raymond the backwoodsman. Dave took up his musket and began to walk around the camp, to awaken himself still more, for he was yet drowsy.
The fire had been allowed to die down, for in spite of the storm nobody seemed to desire the heat, and all had been wet a hundred times before.
After a walk lasting several minutes, and feeling that all was safe, Dave sat down on a fallen tree trunk to meditate. His thoughts were scattered, but presently centered on home. In his mind’s eye he could see the big living room of the cabin, with its immense open chimney, its rude furnishings, and its neatly sanded floor. In the easy chair in a corner sat his crippled cousin, Rodney, doing some work that did not require his moving about, and close at hand was his Aunt Lucy, also busy, and with a sweet face not easily forgotten. And then he fancied he could hear a shout from without, and he could see his aunt catch up the gun behind the door in alarm. But the gun fell from her hands when she saw it was her husband and Dave’s father approaching, with faithful old Sam Barringford and little Nell. And then he fancied he saw little Nell give a leap straight into her mother’s arms and then into the arms of Rodney.
“I’d like to be there when she gets home,” he thought. “I know Aunt Lucy’s cheeks will be wet with tears of joy. And they’ll all be glad and the neighbors will come in and there will be a regular jubilee, and——”