"You know the Indians well, Prevost," said Sir William Johnson, gravely; "marvellously well, considering the short time you have been amongst them."
"I have had little else to do than to study them," responded the other, "and the subject is one of great interest. But do you think I am wrong in the view I take, my good friend?"
"Quite the contrary," replied Sir William, "and that is the reason I send the soldiers with you. A party of eight or ten will be perfectly secure; and I would certainly advise that, for the next two or three months, or till this unlucky dog, Brooks, or Woodchuck as he is called, has been captured, no one should go any distance from his home singly. Such a party as yours might be large enough. I am not sure that my lord's red coat, which I am happy to see he has got on to-day, might not be sufficient protection; for they will not risk anything which they themselves deem an act of hostility against the English government. Still, the soldiers will make the matter more secure till you have passed the spot where there is any chance of their being found. I repeat, I know of no peril; but I would fain guard against all, where a fair lady is concerned." And he bowed gracefully to Edith.
Little more was said; and taking leave of their host, Mr. Prevost's party mounted their horses, and set out, followed by a corporal's guard of dragoons, a small body of which corps was then stationed in the province of New York, although, from the nature of the country in which hostilities had hitherto been carried on, small opportunity had as yet been afforded them of showing their powers against an enemy. Nor would there have been any very favourable opportunity for so doing in the present instance, even had Mr. Prevost and his companions been attacked; for though the road they had to travel was broad and open, compared to an ordinary Indian trail, yet, except at one or two points, it was hemmed in with impervious forests, where the action of cavalry would be quite impossible, and under the screen of which a skilful marksman might bring down his man, himself unperceived.
Sir William Johnson was nevertheless sincere in saying that he believed the very sight of the English soldiers would be quite sufficient protection. The Indians, he knew right well, would avoid anything like a struggle or a contest, and would more especially take care not to come into collision of any kind with the troops of their British allies. It was likely that they would depend entirely upon cunning to obtain a victim wherewith to appease their vengeance; but on this probability he did not choose altogether to rely. He saw his friends depart, however, with perfect confidence, as the soldiers went with them; and they proceeded without seeing a single human being after they quitted his settlement, till they reached the shores of the small lake near which they had halted on their previous journey, and where they again dismounted to take refreshment.
It was a very pleasant spot, and well fitted for a resting-place; nor was repose altogether needless, though the distance already travelled was not great either for man or horse. But the day was exceedingly oppressive, like one of those which come in what is called the Indian summer, when the weather, after many a frosty day, becomes suddenly sultry, as if in the middle of June, and the air is loaded with thin yellow vapour, well deserving the term of "smoky," usually given to it on the western side of the Atlantic. Yet there was no want of air; the wind blew from the south-east, but there was no freshness on the breeze. It was like the Sirocco, taking away strength and firmness from all it breathed upon; and the horses, after being freed from the burden they bore, stood for several minutes with bent heads and heaving sides, without attempting to crop the forest grass beneath the trees.
Thus repose was sweet, and the look of the little lake was cool and refreshing. The travellers lingered there somewhat after the hour at which they had proposed to depart, and it was the negro who took care of the luggage who first warned them of the waning of the day.
"Massa forget," he said, "sun go early to bed in October. Twelve mile to go yet, and road wuss nor dis."
"True, true," replied Mr. Prevost, rising. "We had better go on, my lord, for it is now past two, and we shall barely reach home by daylight. I really think, corporal," he continued, turning to the non-commissioned officer, who had been seated with his men hard by, enjoying some of the good things of life, "that we need not trouble you to go farther. There is no trace of any Indians, or indeed of any human beings, in the forest, but ourselves. Had there been so, my good friend Chundo, here, would have discovered it, for he knows their tracks as well as any of their own people."
"Dat I do, massa," replied the negro, to whom he pointed. "No Ingin pass dis road since yesterday, I swear."