trees
with poles. So the passage of the lake must have seemed more like a
pleasure trip to them than the prelude to a warlike campaign.

In his way up the lake, Burgoyne landed at the River Bouquet, on the
west shore, where for some days the army rested.

To this rendezvous, large numbers of Indians had come to join the
expedition. It was indispensable to observe the customs which had always
prevailed among these peoples when going to war. So Burgoyne made them a
speech, gave them a feast, and witnessed the wild antics of their war
dance.

He forbade their scalping the wounded, or destroying women and children.
They listened attentively to his words, and promised obedience; but
these commands were so flatly opposed to all their philosophy of war,
which required the extinction of every human feeling, that Burgoyne
might as well have bidden the waters of the lake flow backward, as
expect an Indian not to use his scalping-knife whenever an enemy lay at
his mercy.

Still, it is to Burgoyne's credit that he tried to check the ferocity of
these savages, and we would also charitably believe him at least half
ashamed of having to employ them at all, when he saw them brandishing
their tomahawks over the heads of imaginary victims; beheld them
twisting their bodies about in hideous contortions, in mimicry of
tortured prisoners; or heard them howling, like wild beasts, their cry
of triumph when the scalp is torn from an enemy's head.

While thus drawing the sword with one hand, Burgoyne took his pen in the
other. He drew up a paper which his Tory agents were directed to scatter
among the people of Vermont, many of whom, he was assured, were at heart
loyal to the king. These he invited to join his standard, or offered its
protection to all who should remain neutral. All were warned against
driving off their cattle, hiding their corn, or breaking down the
bridges in his way. Should they dare disobey, he threatened to let loose
his horde of savages upon them. Such a departure from the rules of
honorable warfare would have justified the Americans in declaring no
quarter to the invaders.

Well aware that he would not conquer the Americans with threats,
Burgoyne now gave the order to his army to go forward. His view of what
lay before him might be thus expressed: The enemy will, probably, fight
at Ticonderoga. Of course I shall beat them. I will give them no time to
rally. When they hear St. Leger is in the valley, their panic w