It was a clear, still night, and after the toilsome tramping through the forest the easy gliding across the placid bosom of the lake was very delightful.
"I quite like this," said Seth, who, being by virtue of his rank relieved from the labor of paddling, had stretched himself out on a pile of spruce boughs in great comfort. "I don't mind if it takes us all night to cross."
"But I do," spoke up Reuben, who was one of the paddlers. "It's no easy job keeping the old thing moving, I can tell you. Just come and try it yourself."
"No, thank you," responded Seth smilingly. "I'm enjoying myself too much here—but, hullo! what's that light over there? Do you see it?"
All eyes were at once turned in the direction indicated, where now appeared plainly enough the blaze of camp fires burning brightly, against which the dark forms of a number of men could be descried.
The sight was by no means a welcome one, and there was no mistaking the tone of concern in Major Rogers' voice as he said:
"Confound them! They're encamped at the old Indian carrying place in great force, and we can't get past them without being seen. I don't know just what is best to be done. Stop paddling until I think it over."
The paddlers were glad enough to take it easy for a while, and while the raft floated motionless on the water the Major wrestled with the problem upon the solution of which the safety of the party depended.
The vital question was whether the enemy had reached the place of their encampment by water or overland, for if they had come by water they would be well provided with batteaux and canoes, but if they had come overland they would have nothing of the kind, and those on the raft were quite safe so long as they kept out of range of their muskets.
But how was this to be known? Calling some of the older men around him the Major consulted with them, but they had no practical suggestion to offer. They were in the main disposed to go ahead and take chances.