in the spring more and bigger
victories would crown French valor. The Owl grew expansive as he
talked to the youth, his prisoner.

"The Marquis de Montcalm is coming to lead all our armies," he said,
"and he is a far abler soldier than Dieskau. You really did us a great
service when you captured the Saxon. Only a Frenchman is fit to
lead Frenchmen, and under a mighty captain we will crush you. The
Bostonnais are not the equal of the French in the forest. Save a few
like Willet, and Rogers, the English and Americans do not learn the
ways of woods warfare, nor do you make friends with the Indians as we
do."

"That is true in the main," responded Robert, "but we shall win
despite it. Both the English and the English Colonials have the power
to survive defeat. Can the French and the Canadians do as well?"

Langlade could not be shaken in his faith. He saw nothing but the most
brilliant victories, and not only did he boast of French power, but he
gloried even more in the strength of the Indian hordes, that had come
and that were coming in ever increasing numbers to the help of France.
Only the Hodenosaunee stood aloof from Quebec, and he believed the
Great League even yet would be brought over to his side.

Robert argued with the Owl, but he made no impression upon him.
Meanwhile they continued to march north by west.

CHAPTER VIII

BEFORE MONTCALM

The Owl, with his warriors and captive, descended in time into the low
country in the northwest. They, too, had been on snowshoes, but now they
discarded them, since they were entering a region in which little snow had
fallen, the severity of the weather abating greatly. Robert was still
treated well, though guarded with the utmost care. The Indians, who seemed
to be from some tribe about the Great Lakes, did not speak any dialect he
knew, and, if they understood English, they did not use it. He was
compelled to do all his talking with the Owl who, however, was not at all
taciturn. Robert saw early that while a wonderful woodsman and a born
partisan leader, he was also a Gascon, vain, boastful and full of words. He
tried to learn from him something about his possible fate, but he could
obtain no hint, until they had been traveling more than three weeks, and
Langlade had been mellowed by an uncommonly good supper of tender game,
which the Indians had cooked for him.

"You've been trying to draw that information out of me ever since you were
captured," he said. "