It seemed a rash proceeding, but he had made no mistake. The village was deserted, although it showed signs of recent occupation, and when, in response to Seth's signal, the rest of the Rangers came up, they ransacked it thoroughly without finding anything of value, not even a morsel of food, which they would have been very glad to get.
"I don't quite understand this," said Major Rogers, tugging at his beard. "The place is all right to live in—why, then, should they abandon it?"
"Perhaps they're expecting us to attack them, and they've all gone into the fort," Seth suggested.
"I reckon it must be something like that," the Major assented, "and if it wouldn't give the alarm over there and bring the garrison out after us, like hornets from their nest, I'd set these houses on fire. But I'll have to leave them for the present."
So the silent village was spared, and the Rangers returned to the lakeside, opposite to Crown Point where they lay in hiding the whole of the day following in the hope that some of the enemy might cross the lake and fall into their hands. But they waited in vain, for none of the French came within their reach.
A little before sundown a regular fleet of batteaux and canoes appeared. They had evidently come from St. Johns, on the north, and carried not less than 500 men.
At the sight of them the Major's face grew troubled and he shook his head, muttering:
"The first batch, no doubt, and many more to follow. They'll be having more men at Crown Point by midsummer than we'll have at Albany."
Dangerous as their situation was, the Rangers remained there one more night, and the next morning killed a number of cattle that were roaming about, taking only their tongues, as they could not burden themselves with the meat.
They had just finished a very much needed and refreshing repast on these when Reuben, who had been to the shores, hurried back, crying: