When the scanty rations had been left us, and it was understood, from what the soldier said, that we were to remain there until morning, I could keep silent no longer.
“We will get out of this at any hazard!” I whispered to Alec. “It is certain an attack will soon be made upon the settlement for the purpose of destroying the half-finished vessels, and information must be carried even at the expense of our lives.”
“I grant you that, Dicky Dobbins, and am willing to venture on any chance, however small; but first you shall tell me in what way we may set about carrying the information.”
The question I could not answer, and he knew it full well even as he spoke.
The one thing in our favor, as it seemed to me, was the fact that the Britishers had not taken away the skates. When we removed them, according to orders, I was not minded to leave behind what had cost me two dollars in lawful money and twelve muskrat pelts, therefore slung them over my shoulder.
Now if we could but escape from this pen, with five minutes, or even half that time, the start, there was no question in my mind but we might get off scot-free.
How to get out? That was the question I could not answer, and thus far Alec seemed to be equally in the dark.
The men in the hut adjoining our prison no longer talked sufficiently loud for us to hear, or when they did, there were so many speaking at the same time that we could not make out clearly the subject of the conversation.
The snow was still falling; but the air was rapidly growing colder, and I had little question that the storm would soon cease, for the temperature must have been several degrees below zero.
To remain in this place, every corner of which was searched out by the wind, would have been to freeze, and we ran to and fro as best we might, thrashing our arms together with such a noise that some one in the hut cried with a laugh:—