"Or else the report that the gate is closed and the place guarded will dishearten them," returned his cousin.
Hour after hour went by and night came on. A stricter watch than ever was kept, but as before neither Indian or Frenchman showed himself. More than this, the night birds and owls uttered their cries as usual, mingled with the bark of a fox and the mournful howling of several wolves, all of which told that the vicinity was most likely entirely free from human beings.
"They wanted to catch us unawares, and they have discovered their mistake," said one frontiersman; and such was probably the case, for the whole of the night and the following morning passed without further alarm.
Some of those at the post were now impatient to go out and follow up the enemy, but others demurred, stating that their numbers were too small.
"If those wretches are in hiding, they'd wipe us out in no time," said
Sanderson. "Better stay where we are for the present."
Nevertheless James Morris and Tony Jadwin went out, on a short scouting expedition, along the river and then for a few hundred feet into the forest. They advanced with great caution, taking care not to expose themselves in the open, and carrying their guns ready for use, should any of the enemy show themselves.
"We cannot afford to take many chances," said James Morris, as they moved forward. "Our force at the post is too small."
"Wish we had a company of Royal Americans here, to knock 'em out," said
Jadwin.
Three hours were spent on the scouting tour, and both of the men were on the point of turning back to the fort, satisfied that the Frenchmen and Indians had indeed given up the proposed attack, when they heard the sound of rapid footsteps, and a man burst into view, running with all his might and main.
"Halt!" cried James Morris, who at the first sound had raised his musket, while Jadwin did the same.