"There is some English mother whom we can spare!" he said.
So we sat there on our horses until the boy helped Belfort into the saddle, and climbed up behind him. Then he looked at us intently for a moment, and raised his hand. I thought he was going to shake his fist in our faces again; but the hand went to his head, and he gave us a military salute. Then, with his wounded comrade, he rode away towards the British army.
"A fine spirit and fine manners," said Wildfoot.
We, too, rode off in the forest, and I was very glad that the ranger had spared the boy. He had given me my life once, but then he knew that I was not an Englishman.
There was no cessation of the work for hours, and we continued our circuit, stirring up alarm after alarm, Wildfoot, sleepless and untiring, at our head. At last when day was bright, and our three bands had reunited, he looked at the rising sun and said, with a deep sigh of regret:—
"I'm afraid we'll have to quit and go back to General Washington's camp."
"Don't you think that we've had rather an active night?" I asked.
"It's been a fair average night," he replied.
Such was the man.