Chapter XII: From Peril to Peril

The Rangers would, of course, have much preferred keeping together, but they quite understood the wisdom of their leader's plan, and dutifully did as they were told.

Seth struck off to the east, with the idea of making a long detour and then steering straight for the rendezvous. He could get through the forest at a surprising rate of speed, and ere many minutes had passed had put such a distance between himself and the enemy that he had little to fear from their pursuit.

But they were not the only source of danger. He knew well that the whole country round about was being constantly traversed by scouting parties of Indians in the pay of the French, and if he should be captured by any of them he was far more likely to be made the victim of their fiendish ingenuity as torturers, and to be finally tomahawked and scalped, than to be delivered over to the French as a prisoner of war.

Still he did not allow these thoughts, disquieting as they were, to depress his spirit. The dangers that threatened were just what were to be expected, and so long as he continued a member of Rogers' band they would have to be faced.

"The Major was right enough, of course, in making us scatter like this," he said to himself philosophically, "but all the same I'll be everlastingly glad when we all get together again."

Guided by his compass he pursued his lonely way through the forest until sundown, and then looked about for some snug spot in which to pass the night.

It was cold enough to render a fire almost a necessity, but, although he had a well-equipped tinder-box, he did not attempt to make a blaze, lest it should betray him to some skulking Indians.

A small portion of ox tongue, cold and tasteless, served him for supper, and he lay down on some moss at the roots of a big tree to pass the long hours of the night as best he could.

The cold chilled him to the marrow, and hunger gnawed at his vitals. The forest that was so silent during the day now gave forth sinister sounds as the birds and beasts of prey hunted eagerly for victims. First far off and then nearer, one answering to another, the blood-curdling howl of wolves echoed through the darkness, and Seth, shivering with cold, hugged his trusty gun tightly, and hoped that the fierce brutes would not scent him.

He wondered where the others were, and what distance separated him from them. If only Reuben were with him, his situation would not be quite so miserable; but Reuben had taken a southerly direction, and was no doubt miles away at the moment.

The horrid howling of the wolves drew nearer, and the unpleasant conviction began to force itself upon him that they had found him out and were of a mind to hold a nocturnal banquet on his body.

"They'll have to pay dearly for their supper," he soliloquized grimly, "for I'll kill as many of them as I can first, but if the pack is a big one, they're bound to get me in the end, unless"--and at the idea his heart leaped and the blood coursed warmly through his veins--"I keep them off with a big fire. I'll do it and risk the Indians being round."

With trembling fingers he went to work and, of course, the first attempts to light the dry moss with a spark from his tinder-box failed, but he tried again and again, and at last succeeded in starting a tiny flame, which he sedulously fanned into a blaze.

There was no lack of fuel at hand, and, piling this on, he presently had a glowing fire, that lit up the far-reaching forest aisles, and revealed the proximity of the wolves by being reflected in their gleaming eyeballs.

"Just in time!" he ejaculated fervently. "They'll keep their distance so long as the fire lasts, but if it goes out, they'll be on me quick."

If he had had only the wolves to consider, he would have seized the opportunity to do execution amongst them that they afforded by sitting upon their haunches and gazing hungrily at him; but the report of his gun might betray him to the enemy if any of them were within hearing of it, and so he was fain to content himself with speculating how many of them he might kill before the pack would have the sense to take to flight.

The fire burned so brightly that, in spite of the purpose for which it was lit, he found it cheering to his spirit, but it required a lot of wood to keep it going, and after a while he had gathered all that was near at hand, and must needs go farther from the protecting flames in order to keep up the supply.

This, of course, brought him nearer to the waiting wolves, and they were quick to snap at him menacingly, so that he had to make sudden dashes out and in again to the circle of safety.

Presently he bethought himself of a better plan.

"I'll be a magician and carry a wand that will be my protection," he said to himself, smiling at the childish notion, which, nevertheless, he put into execution, for, seizing a blazing brand from the heart of the fire, he swung it before him shouting.

"Avaunt, ye fiends! Begone into the darkness!" (quoting from a book of legends he had read in his school-days) and charged dauntlessly at his determined besiegers.

The seemingly desperate expedient succeeded beyond his expectations. The frightened wolves fled howling before him, and he had time to secure more than one big armful of wood ere they recovered from their panic sufficiently to resume the siege.

Seth laughed at the brutes being so easily fooled, and congratulated himself on having solved the problem which at first promised to be so difficult.

What between the heat of the fire and the warmth due to his exertions, he had lost all thought of the cold, and if only Reuben or any other of the Rangers had been there to keep him company he would not have minded the situation at all, save that he never forgot the possibility of Indians suddenly announcing their presence by a well-aimed bullet or the whiz of a tomahawk.

But the hours went by, and the wolves were still kept at bay, and no wolves in human guise appeared, and at last the darkness gave way to dawn.

The new day found Seth sorely tired, and suffering from hunger and loss of sleep, but far from despondent. He knew pretty well in what direction to steer in order to reach the rendezvous, and he at once set off, for the wolves had slunk away with the night, and he had nothing more to fear from them.

He pushed forward as rapidly as the nature of the ground permitted, keeping a keen lookout in every direction for either friends or enemies, and hoping as strongly to meet the first as to avoid the second.

The morning had well advanced, however, before anything that resembled a fellow-being crossed his vision, and then he was somewhat startled by catching a glimpse of a human form several hundred yards distant.

"Can that be an Indian or a Canadian?" he asked himself, "and I wonder if he's alone."

He could not answer his own question, but he could take to cover, and this he did instantly, muttering,

"That fellow may think I've not seen him, and come right on, and if he does I'll finish him."

With his nerves strung to the highest tension, Seth crouched behind the trunk of a big tree and strove to follow the movements of the other man without exposing himself to the risk of a bullet from his gun.

Not the snapping of a dry branch nor the rustling of dead leaves betrayed his approach, and Seth at last, unable to stand the strain any longer, with infinite caution peered around the protecting tree.

This action nearly cost him his life, for the instant his head appeared the report of a gun rang out and a bullet, striking with a wicked thud, buried itself in the trunk not more than an inch from his head. It was a close shave with a vengeance, but it did not daunt Seth.

"A miss is as good as a mile," he soliloquized philosophically, and feeling safe now until his antagonist should have time to reload, he sought his chance to return the compliment.

It came a minute later as the other raised his head full for a peep, and Seth's finger was pressing the trigger when with an exclamation of astonishment, he lowered his gun, crying,

"Good land! that's not a Canadian, but one of our own men!"

Sure enough, it was a Ranger who had thus been stalking Seth, supposing him to be an enemy, and who had come within an ace of losing his own life in the endeavor to take Seth's.

Relieved beyond expression, Seth sprang to his feet and shouted,

"Oh ho, Ranger! Whom are you firing at?"

At this the other came out from his cover, and with beaming face hurried over to him. It was Andrew Wilcox, who had lost his way in the forest, and was doing his best to find it again when he sighted Seth, and, mistaking him for one of the enemy, determined to get the first shot whatever might be the consequences.

Highly delighted at the fortunate meeting, the two set forth with renewed energy, and by the middle of the afternoon reached the rendezvous, where they found the rest of the company already assembled, and Major Rogers in a humor to rate them for their being last, but on hearing Seth's explanation he considered it sufficient, and said in a kindly tone,

"Not your fault this time, Ensign, and now let us see how we're to get across this lake."

Having neither bateaux nor canoes the only thing to be done was to build a raft, and to this they now gave themselves, toiling away like beavers, and making use so far as possible of the dry driftwood that abounded until they had completed an ugly and clumsy but substantial structure.

Then under cover of darkness they set out for the western shore, propelling their slow craft by means of such rude paddles as they could fashion with their hatchets.

It was a clear, still night, and after the toilsome tramping through the forest the easy gliding across the placid bosom of the lake was very delightful.

"I quite like this," said Seth, who, being by virtue of his rank relieved from the labor of paddling, had stretched himself out on a pile of spruce boughs in great comfort. "I don't mind if it takes us all night to cross."

"But I do," spoke up Reuben, who was one of the paddlers. "It's no easy job keeping the old thing moving, I can tell you. Just come and try it yourself."

"No, thank you," responded Seth smilingly. "I'm enjoying myself too much here--but, hullo! what's that light over there? Do you see it?"

All eyes were at once turned in the direction indicated, where now appeared plainly enough the blaze of camp fires burning brightly, against which the dark forms of a number of men could be descried.

The sight was by no means a welcome one, and there was no mistaking the tone of concern in Major Rogers' voice as he said:

"Confound them! They're encamped at the old Indian carrying place in great force, and we can't get past them without being seen. I don't know just what is best to be done. Stop paddling until I think it over."

The paddlers were glad enough to take it easy for a while, and while the raft floated motionless on the water the Major wrestled with the problem upon the solution of which the safety of the party depended.

The vital question was whether the enemy had reached the place of their encampment by water or overland, for if they had come by water they would be well provided with batteaux and canoes, but if they had come overland they would have nothing of the kind, and those on the raft were quite safe so long as they kept out of range of their muskets.

But how was this to be known? Calling some of the older men around him the Major consulted with them, but they had no practical suggestion to offer. They were in the main disposed to go ahead and take chances.

To this, however, their sagacious leader would not consent. Brave as he was, and ready enough for fighting when the conditions were at all equal, he had no thought of risking the lives of himself and his men by attempting anything so hazardous as to get past the French on the slow moving, clumsy raft. Some expedient offering more hope of a safe issue must be devised.