The Lieutenant laughed.
“My story isn’t a long one. I’m cleaning up our base of supplies at La Famine. We’ve got a small guard there. The main part of the rear-guard is back at Frontenac.”
“Where is the column?”
“Gone to Niagara, Denonville and all, to build a fort. They’ll give it to De Troyes, I imagine. It’s a sort of triumphal procession through the enemy’s country, after rooting up the Seneca villages and fields and stockades until you can’t find an able-bodied redskin this side of the Cayugas. Oh, I didn’t answer your other question. What do you think of these?” He held out a foot, shod in a moccasin. “You’d never know the King’s troops now, Menard. We’re wearing anything we can pick up. I’ve got a dozen canoes a quarter of a league down the lake. I saw your fire, and thought it best 367 to reconnoitre before bringing the canoes past.” He read the question in Menard’s glance. “We are not taking out much time for sleep, I can tell you. It’s all day and all night until we get La Famine cleared up. There is only a handful of men there, and we’re expecting every day that the Cayugas and Onondagas will sweep down on them.”
“They won’t bother you,” said Menard.
“Maybe not, but we must be careful. For my part, I look for trouble. The nations stand pretty closely by each other, you know.”
“They won’t bother you now.”
“How do you know?”
“What did I come down here for?”
“They didn’t tell me. Oh, you had a mission to the other nations? But that can’t be,––you were captured.”