From the crest of a hill they looked down upon a scene of great activity. The sun was scarcely risen but more than fifty men were at work on the forest with axes, and, at the very edge of the water, a saw mill was in active operation. Along the shore, where as many more toiled, were boats finished and others in all stages of progress. Soldiers in uniform, rifles on shoulder, walked about.
It was a pleasant sight, refreshing to the eyes of Robert and Grosvenor. Here were many men of their own race, and here were many activities, telling of great energy in the war. After so much peril in the forest they would be glad to be in the open and with their own kind again.
"Look, Robert," said Willet, "don't you know them?"
"Know whom?" asked young Lennox.
"The officers of this camp. The lads in the brave uniforms. If my eyes make no mistake, and they don't make any, the fine, tall young fellow standing at the edge of the water is our Philadelphia friend, Captain Colden."
"Beyond a doubt it is, Dave, and right glad am I to see him, and there too is Wilton, the fighting Quaker, and Carson also. Why this is to be, in truth, a reunion!"
Willet put his hands to his mouth trumpet fashion, and uttered a long, piercing shout. Then the five advanced and marched into the camp of their friends, where they received a welcome, amazed but full of warmth, Grosvenor, too, being made to feel at home.
"Have you dropped from the skies?" asked Colden.
"Scarcely that," replied Robert, laughing with pleasure, "but we've been shot out of the forest, and very glad we are to be here. We've come to tell you also that we've been pursued by a strong French and Indian force, led by St. Luc himself, and that it will be upon you before nightfall."
"And I, trained in my boyhood not to fight, will have to fight again," said Wilton.