"Here still goes Tandakora," he said, "and his heart is as angry as ever. He is bitter against the French, too, because he fears now that he has taken the wrong side. He sees the power of his enemies growing and growing, and Montcalm is not here to lead the French. I do not think Tandakora will go into the fort with St. Luc and Bourlamaque. His place is not inside the walls. He wants the great forest to roam in."
"In that Tandakora is right," said Willet; "he acts according to his lights. A fortress is no place for an Indian."
"Tandakora is now going more slowly," resumed the Onondaga. "His paces shorten. It may be that he will stop to talk with some one. Ah! he does, and it is no less a man than Sharp Sword himself. I have looked upon Sharp Sword's footprints so often that I know them at a glance. He and Tandakora stood here, facing each other, and talked. Neither moved from his tracks while he spoke, and so I think it was not a friendly conference. It is likely that the Ojibway spoke of the defeat of the French, and Sharp Sword replied that in defeat as well as victory true allies stand together. Moreover, he said that defeat might be followed by victory and one must always hope. But Tandakora was not convinced. It is the custom of the Indian to run away when he knows that his enemy is too strong for him, and it may be wise. Now Tandakora turns from the course and goes toward the west. And, lo! his warriors all fall in behind him! Here is their great trail. Sharp Sword heads in another direction. He is going with the French and Canadians to the fortress."
The army, under the shadow of its great guns, moved slowly on, and presently they came upon the terrible field of the year before. Before them lay the wall, stronger than ever with earth and logs, but not a man held it. The French and Canadians were in the fortress, and the Americans and English were free to use the intrenchments as a shelter for themselves if they chose.
"It's going to be a siege," said Willet.
The cannon of Ticonderoga soon opened, and Amherst's guns replied, the cautious general moving his great force forward in a manner that betokened a sure triumph, though it might be slow. But on the following night the whole French army, save a few hundred men under Hebecourt, left to make a last desperate stand, stole away and made for Isle-aux-Noix. Hebecourt replied to Amherst's artillery with the numerous guns of the fort for three days. Amherst still would not allow his army to move forward for the assault, having in mind the terrible losses of last year and knowing that he was bound to win.
The brave Hebecourt and his soldiers also left the fort at last, escaping in boats, and leaving a match burning in the magazine. One of the bastions of Ticonderoga blew up with a tremendous explosion, and then the victorious army marched in. Ticonderoga, such a looming and tremendous name in America, a fortress for which so much blood had been shed, had fallen at last. Robert did not dream that in another war, less than twenty years away, it would change hands three times.
They found, a little later, that Crown Point, the great fortress upon which the French king had spent untold millions, had been abandoned also and was there for the Anglo-American army to take whenever it chose. Then Amherst talked of going on into Canada and coöperating with Wolfe, but, true to his cautious soul, he began to build forts and arrange for the mastery of Lake Champlain.
Robert, Tayoga and Willet grew impatient as the days passed. The news came that Prideaux had been killed before Niagara, but Sir William Johnson, the Waraiyageh of the Mohawks, assuming command in his stead, had taken the place, winning a great victory. After the long night the dawn had come. Everything seemed to favor the English and Americans, and now the eyes of the three turned upon Quebec. It was evident that the war would be won or lost there, and they could bear the delays no longer. Saying farewell to their comrades of Amherst's army, they plunged into the northern wilderness, taking an almost direct course for Quebec.
They were entering a region haunted by warriors, and still ranged by daring French partisans, but they had no fear. Robert believed that the surpassing woodcraft of the hunter and the Onondaga would carry them safely through, and he longed for Quebec, upon which the eyes of both the New World and the Old now turned. They had heard that Wolfe had suffered a defeat at the Montmorency River, due largely to the impetuosity of his men, but that he was hanging on and controlled most of the country about Quebec. But Montcalm on the great rock was as defiant as ever, and it seemed impossible to get at him.