"Ticonderoga," said Steve, as he sheltered his face from the snow. "To-morrow we shall hope to know more about its position and about the movements of its garrison. Now, what about sentries?"
"Reckon we can all turn in and be comfortable, Cap'n," answered Jim promptly. "There ain't no need for look-outs to-night. The snow'll keep every livin' soul under cover. It's coming thicker. See for yerself. The lights have gone, and the darkness is deeper."
One by one the gallant little band crept into the cosy little nest which they had prepared, a strip of blanket being dropped over the small opening which had been left amongst the branches. Then pipes were produced and filled, while the backwoodsman who had so diligently built fireplace and chimney, used flint and steel with a will, and watched with all the pleasure of a child as the sparks caught hold and the flames licked round the wood. Soon there was a bright blaze, while smoke soared up the chimney.
"There ain't no red-skinned varmint as'll be able to see that, I reckon," growled Jim, as he snatched a blazing ember from the fire and lit his pipe, passing the brand round the circle when he had finished with it. "It air snowin' hard, and the best brave livin' couldn't see more'n a dozen yards. Get to work with supper, boys, then a yarn or so, and we'll put in the best sleep we've had for many a night past."
Could the French commander at Ticonderoga have clambered to the top of their hollow and peered down at the band lounging below, he would have been more than a little disturbed. For the firelight which lit up the quaint quarters of Steve's command, was reflected from every face, and showed a collection of trappers, every one of whom was a man indeed. They sat for the most part with their muskets close beside them, or across their knees, for the habit had grown upon them these last few months. And as they yarned, the tale falling now from this one, and then from the lips of others of the band, stories of fierce border fights came to the ear, stories which all knew to be true in every detail. Wiry backwoodsmen recounted how they had left civilization to become pioneers in the wilderness, how fortune had smiled upon them, how the land had been cleared, the crops sown, the hut erected, and the store of pelts increased, till the prospect for the future was rosy. And then the French had come, they and their so-called Christian Indians. Wives and children had been slaughtered, men had been slain and scalped, huts fired, and the future utterly wrecked. That was the moment when the forebodings of the French commander would have been greatest, for every bronzed face below looked exceedingly grim and determined, while often enough there was a bitter word on the lips of those who had lost dear ones. Hands gripped the ponderous muskets, while fingers fidgeted about the flint locks or felt for powder pouches. Yes, these men had much with which to refresh their memories, and each and every one was determined to come to hand-grips with the French, and to fight till the day when the enemy was beaten and they and their friends restored to their possessions.
"Time to turn in," said Steve at last. "Boys, we'll take it in turns to keep the fire going, and to-morrow we'll tell off a couple to act as cooks. Good-night! Let's hope we shall see something of the enemy soon."
There was a chorus of good-nights, then blankets were produced, and very soon the firelight showed only recumbent figures.
"There's a sight for yer," was Jim's exclamation on the following morning, as he rose from his blanket and pushed his head through the narrow outlet. "Ain't that a pictur?"
Steve pressed past him and gave a cry of amazement, for though he knew the forest well, and had seen many a winter, he had never looked on such a scene. Far and wide the country was white, and glistening in the rays of a winter's sun. Trees and lakes and mountains all had the same thick covering, save in a few odd places, where the green of the pines broke through, or where the snow had tumbled from the treetops. As for the lakes, they were a vast expanse of the whitest snow, laid out most wonderfully at their feet, a long expanse which stretched up to the banks, clambered up the trees, and ran on over the forest unbroken. Unbroken? No, for suddenly Steve's arm shot out, and he pointed in the direction of Ticonderoga.
"Critters," said Jim with a sniff of approval. "Injuns, I reckon, and those are guns trailin' out behind 'em. Cap'n, it looks as ef they war off on some expedition. There'll be two or three hundred of the fellers."