Lord H---- rose; and, after gazing round him for a few moments, drinking in as it were the solemn loveliness, walked on slowly towards the blackened remains of Fort William-Henry. Little was to be seen there. Montcalm had not left his work half done; for all had been destroyed, and little beyond some irregularities in the ground, and some large detached fragments of masonry, showed where so many gallant men had fought in their country's cause, only to be slaughtered after surrender by a treacherous enemy.
By report, he knew the ground well; and after pausing for a minute or two amongst the ruins, he turned down the dark and fearful dell where the horrible massacre was perpetrated. Every rock around had echoed to the yell of the Indians, the groan of the dying soldier, or the shrieks of defenceless women and children. Every tree had seen beneath its boughs some of the deeds of horror and of blood which went to make up that great crime. The bones of hundreds were lying still unburied; and where the moonlight fell on the western side of the gorge, some portion of a woman's garment, which had caught upon a bush, was seen fluttering in the breeze.
The immediate path along which Lord H---- went, was still in profound shadow; but, suddenly, across the moonlight side, a little in advance of him, he saw, gliding along with noiseless step, a troop of eight or ten shadowy figures, looking like ghosts in the pale moonlight. So much was their colour the same as the rocks around, that you might almost fancy you saw through them, and that they were but the shadows from some other objects cast upon the broken crags as they passed.
Lord H---- stood and gazed; when suddenly the band stopped, and, comprehending that he had been perceived, he challenged them in English, judging at once that they must be a troop of friendly Indians. A deep voice replied in the same language, but with a strong Indian accent, "We are friends--children of the Stone. Can you tell us where to find Prevost?"
As he spoke, the leader of the Indians had advanced nearer down the sloping ground at the foot of the rocks, and there seemed something in his tall, powerful form, and majesty of carriage, familiar to the eyes of the young nobleman, who exclaimed, "Is that the Black Eagle?"
"It is," answered the other, whose limited knowledge of English did not suffer him to indulge in his usual figurative language. "Art not thou the Falling Cataract?"
"I am he to whom you gave that name," returned Lord H----. "But what want you with Mr. Prevost? Where is his son?"
"On yonder side of Horicon," answered the Indian chief, pointing with his hand towards the western side of the lake. "The boy is safe; be thy mind at rest."
Lord H---- took the hand he proffered, and pressed it in his; but at the same time he asked, "And poor Woodchuck--what of him?"
"I know not," answered Black Eagle; "we have not beheld him."