Bab sat and gazed, somewhat bewildered, and hardly knowing where she was. But the musical voice of the falling waters, which has gained for the outlet of Lake Horicon an ever-enduring name, and the grand outline of Mount Defiance seen through the trees, soon showed her that she was on that narrow point of land lying between Trout Brook and the Falls. She waited till the moon had fully risen, and then stole quietly away again, keeping a south-western course nearly up the current of the brook, and for three hours she pursued her way with a rapid and untiring foot. She had no idea of the time, and wondered if the day would never break; but the moonlight was beautifully clear, and the calm beams, as if they had some affinity with the woodland solitude, seemed to penetrate through the branches and green leaves, even more easily than was usual with the sunshine.
Bab's fears had now nearly passed away; for she knew that she must be far beyond the French and Huron posts, and could only expect to meet either with the scouts and outposts of the English army, or with parties of Indians, and she consequently went on without care or precaution. Suddenly she found herself emerging from the wood into one of those low open savannahs, of which I have already spoken, close to the spot where the embers of a fire were still glowing. The grass was soft, and her tread was light, but the sleep of the Indian is lighter still; and, in an instant, three or four warriors started up around her.
"I am a friend, I am a friend!" cried the negress, in the Iroquois tongue. "Who are you? Mohawks?"
"Children of the Stone," replied the man nearest to her, gazing at her earnestly by the moonlight. "I have seen the Black Cloud before. Does she not dwell in the house of our brother Prevost?"
"Yes, yes!" cried Sister Bab, eagerly. "I'm his slave girl, Bab, who came to the Oneida Castle with my own missy. But now she is the prisoner of bad men; and I have escaped, tired and hungry, and am nearly dead."
"Come with me," said the Indian; "I will take thee where thou shalt have rest to comfort thee, and meat to support thee, till the Black Eagle comes. He will not be long, for he will keep the war-path night and day till he is here; and his wings are swift."
The poor woman shuddered at the name, of the terrible chief, for it was closely connected in her mind with the circumstances of her young master's fate; but, wearied and exhausted, the prospect of food and repose was a blessing, and she followed him in silence to the other side of the savannah.
[CHAPTER XLIV.]
Sixteen thousand gallant men, led by a brave and experienced general, and supported by a fine, though not very large, park of artillery, seemed certainly sufficient for the reduction of a small fortress, not very well garrisoned, nor supplied with any great abundance of stores. But it seemed the fate of English officers in North America to adhere strictly to all ancient rules, when ancient rules could be of no service in face of a new and totally different mode of warfare, and to abandon those rules at times and in circumstances when only they could be available.
A large fleet of bateaux had been collected at the southern extremity of Lake George, ready to transport the troops to the destined point of attack; and a council of the most experienced officers was held on the morning of the third of July, to consider the further proceedings of the army.