nd got help, and they set upon
us, as you have seen. Now that we have three wounded and two
somewhat bruised and shaken, I am thinking it would be better to
send them back, with a few sound men as escort--for the provisions
will be welcome at the fort, which is not too well victualled--whilst
the rest of us push on, and see if we can accomplish our errand. Now
that we are thus reinforced, we shall be strong enough to do this."

The eyes of Stark and Fritz sparkled at the prospect.

"We will go with you," they cried. "We long for such work as this;
it is what we have come for from our homes and friends."

And then Stark added modestly:

"And if I am but little trained to arms, I can draw. I have been
used to that work in my old life, which was too tame for me. I
understand how to make plans and elevations. If I could but get a
good view of the fortifications, I will undertake to make a good
drawing of them for your general."

Rogers slapped him heartily upon the back.

"A draughtsman is the very fellow we want," he cried; "and a
draughtsman who can wield weapons as you can, John Stark, is the
very man for us. You and your band will be right welcome. You can
all use snowshoes, I see, and doubtless skates also?"

Stark nodded. By that time all were proficient in these arts, even
Fritz, to whom they had been new at the commencement of the winter.
Charles fingered the knife at his belt, and his cavern-like eyes
glowed in their sockets.

"Let me fight the French-the French!" he muttered. "I have avenged
myself upon the Indian foe. Now let me know the joy of meeting the
white foe face to face!"

"Is that poor fellow mad?" asked Rogers of Fritz, when next
morning, all preparations being speedily made, the party had
divided, and the larger contingent was sweeping down the lake
towards the distant junction, which was guarded by the guns of
Ticonderoga.

"I think his brain is touched. He has been like that ever since I
have known him; but his brother and friends say that once he was
the most gentle and peaceful of men, and never desired to raise
hand against his fellow. It is the horror of one awful memory that
has made him what he is. I thought perhaps that when he wreaked his
vengeance upon the Indian chieftain who had slain his wife and
children, he would have been satisfied; but the fire in his heart
seems unquenched and unquenchable. Sometimes I have a fancy that
when his wrath is satisfied the spring of life wi