It was the earnest prayer of a brave man, and he soon rejoined the settlers, still happy over the unexpected deliverance.
But we must return to the British colonel.
At a certain point two miles below the bend in the river, mentioned at the conclusion of the preceding chapter, several large trees lay on the ground, hurled down by the fury of some storm-demon. These trees furnished a natural ambush, almost entirely impenetrable by the human eye, and from their leafy coverts a company of soldiers could sweep the stream either way, for a great distance.
The ambush was not untenanted when Roy Funk and his companions left the Indians, and turned the prows of their canoes toward Lake Erie.
The moon, as she scaled the horizon, looked down upon scarlet uniforms beneath the leaves, and the night-winds heard low voices.
“Colonel, do you think Gosnoke equal to the emergency?” asked a soldier, looking at the British colonel peeping through the boughs.
“I do. Ere this, he has obeyed orders, and peacefully too, for we have heard no noise. Splitlog knows now, that I am not to be trampled, and spit on with impunity. I played the red-skin devil a British trick to-night, and he will never forget it. But I’m tired of waiting here. It is almost time for Gosnoke’s appearance, and here Funk and his accursed hounds have not hove in sight.”
The officer never took his eyes from the shining surface of the water, while he answered the private, and his nervous actions proclaimed his impatience.
The reader can guess the motive that led the Briton to the ambush. He intended to intercept the exiles, and finish the rivalry that existed between himself and the Night-Hawk for the face of Huldah Armstrong. He selected a dozen soldiers whom he could trust, and while the outlaws were preparing to depart, he led his men to the ambush.
Major Gosnoke was left at the hill to withdraw the British forces from co-operation with Splitlog’s warriors. He—the colonel—dared not carry out his treachery in person, for the Wyandot sachem was an impulsive savage, and he might pay the penalty of his desertion with his life.