Her thoughts were still of Edith; and she asked herself,--
"Where are they taking her to, I wonder? Perhaps I may come up with them, if that red-skin would but leave off running along by the shore, and let me land, and cross the narrow point. He may run, the devil-foot! He can't catch Bab. I'll dive again. He think her drowned."
Her resolution was instantly executed; and--whether it was that her stratagem was successful, or that the Huron had less than Indian perseverance, and gave up the chase--when she rose again, she saw him turning towards the woods, as if about to go back to his lodge. But Bab had learned caution, and she pursued her way towards the small peninsula where stood the French fort of Crown Point, which, at the period I speak of, had been nearly stripped of its garrison to reinforce Ticonderoga.
She chose her spot, however, with great care; for, though in her wanderings she had made herself well acquainted with the country, she was, of course, ignorant of the late movements of the troops, and fancied that the French posts extended as far beyond the walls of the fortress as they had formerly done. A little woody island, hardly separated from the main land, covered her approach; and the moment her feet touched the shore, she darted away into the forest, and took the trail which led nearly due south. The neck of the point was soon passed; and once more she caught sight of the French boats still towing the canoe on which her thoughts so pertinaciously rested.
The short detention of the French party, and the advantage she gained by her direct course across the point, had put her a little in advance; and she ran rapidly on till she reached the mouth of the small river, now called Putnam's Creek, which, being flooded by the torrents of rain which had fallen in the earlier part of the day, made her pause for a moment, gazing at the rushing and eddying waters coming down, and doubting whether she had strength left to swim across it.
The boats, by this time, were somewhat in advance; and, when she gazed after them, she naturally came to the conclusion that they were bound for what she called, after the Indian fashion, Cheeconderoga.
Suddenly, however, as she watched, she saw their course altered; and it soon became evident that they intended to land considerably north of the fort. Running up the creek, then, till she found a place where she could pass, she followed an Indian trail through the woods lying a little to the west of the present line of road, and at length reached an eminence nearly opposite to Shoreham--a spur of Mount Hope, in fact, where she once more saw the lake just in time to catch a view of the disembarkation of the French troops and the Indians.
Notwithstanding her great strength, the poor negress was, by this time, exceedingly tired; still, that persevering love which is one of the brightest traits of her unfortunate race, carried her on.
"If I can but catch sight of them again," she thought, "before night I can carry old massa tidings of where she be."
Encouraged by this idea, she pushed on without pause. But night overtook her before she had seen any more of the party; and poor Bab's spirit began to fail. More slowly she went, somewhat doubtful of her way; and, in the solitude, the darkness, and the intricacy of the woods, fears began to creep over her which were not familiar to her bosom.