pot I have ever
seen--dotted with islands and hemmed in by mountains. Even Hector and
Donald said it was "a bonny place, just for all the world like old
Scotland."

We used to row on the lake, among the pretty islands, or lie in the boat
and gaze at the mountains and the clouds floating over them. It seemed
absurd that two great bodies of men should come to such a serene,
peaceful place, and occupy their time killing each other.

About two weeks after the Fort Anne fight, Edmund and I had a chance to
get away from camp for several hours, and started off with 'Bijah
Thompson of Woburn, whom we found in Colonel Nichols's regiment.

We pulled out on the lake, went in swimming, and then rowed slowly along
with our fish-lines trailing behind. But the fish didn't bite. We cut
across the upper part of the lake, and as we approached the further
side, Edmund said: "What's that over on the shore, Ben? There's some
one there who seems to be making motions to us."

We rowed in that direction, and saw a man waving his arms, and heard a
"hello!"

"That's no Frenchman. That's one of our men who has got lost in the
woods, or who has escaped from the French."

As we came nearer, we saw that he was almost naked. We pulled toward the
shore, and beheld a pitiful, haggard fellow, with nothing on him but a
pair of ragged breeches and a tattered shirt. We were about to ask him
some questions, when he exclaimed:--

"B-B-Ben and Edmund, and 'B-Bijah Thompson too, by gum! An-An-And ain't
I glad to see you?"

"Amos Locke! And we're glad to see you, too. Where have you been?"

"B-Been? I've been in h-hell. Say, have you got anything to eat? I'm
starved."

We had a lot of rye and Injun bread, cheese, and boiled beef with us. We
brought it out, and Amos gulped away at it like a hungry dog. We also
had a wooden bottle into which we had poured our rations of rum, and
then filled it up with water. We passed it to Amos, and he took a long
swig at it. As he took it away from his mouth, a happy grin came over
his face.

[Sidenote: AMOS COMES BACK]

"B-Boys, that goes to the spot. I'm not a rum-drinker, but when a
fellow's been frozen, and starved, and water-logged, he does sort of
hanker after something that has a t-tang to it."

He put down the bottle, and went to work at the food again. In a short
time our dinner had disappeared--and we had put up what we considered
was an ample supply for three hearty men.

I picked up my jacket and