“I trust not,” answered Alick, in a grave tone. “I shall never forgive myself if any misfortune has happened during my absence from the fort. I ought to have remained at my post; though Sandy is so cautious and vigilant that I considered he would take as good care of it as I could.”
Martin and Robin now trotted up to us.
“What has become of the flag?” exclaimed Martin. “Robin says that he has seen suspicious signs of Indians having been in the neighbourhood, and see! I’ve picked up this arrow-head. It looks as if it had been only lately dropped.”
Robin confirmed what Martin had said, and expressed his fears that the fort had been again attacked.
“We shall soon know the worst, at all events,” said Alick; and putting our horses into a gallop, we dashed forward.
We all uttered exclamations of dismay when, coming near where the fort had stood, we beheld only a blackened ruin. The towers had been burned to the ground, the palisades pulled down and destroyed, as was every wooden building inside the enclosure.
“This has not happened by accident,” observed Alick. “My worst apprehensions are fulfilled. The Indians must have attacked the fort, and having succeeded in capturing it, put the whole garrison to death.”
“Perhaps some may have escaped, and are hidden in the neighbourhood,” said Martin; and before Alick could stop him, he shouted out at the top of his voice, “Hillo! any one hereabouts? Answer, friends.”
“Stay!” cried Alick; “our voices may be heard by foes as well as friends. Keep a look round; in case the former should appear, we may have to fly for our lives.”
We followed his injunctions.