Tayoga ranged about the shallow valley a little, and announced that the whole force had gone on together the morning after the encampment.

“The artillery and the infantry were in close ranks,” he said, “and the warriors were on either flank, scouting in the forest, forming a fringe which kept off possible scouts of the English and Americans.  There was no chance of a surprise attack which would cut up the forces of Montcalm and impede his advance.”

Willet sighed.

“The Marquis, although he may not have known it,” he said, “was in no danger from such an enterprise.  We have read the signs too well, Tayoga.  Our own people have been lying in their forts, weak of will, waiting to defend themselves, while the French and their allies have had all the wilderness to range over, and in which they might do as they pleased.  It is easy to see where the advantage lies.”

“And we shall soon learn what has happened,” said Tayoga, gravely.

The next morning they met an American scout who told them the terrible news of the capture of Fort William Henry, with its entire garrison, by Montcalm, and the slaughter afterward of many of the prisoners by the Indians.

Robert was appalled.

“Is Lake George to remain our only victory?” he exclaimed.

“It’s better to have a bad beginning and a good ending than a good beginning and a bad ending,” said the scout.

“Remember,” said Tayoga, “how Areskoui watched over us, when we were among the peaks.  As he watched over us then so later on he will watch over our cause.”

“It was only for a moment that I felt despair,” said Robert.  “It is certain that victory always comes to those who know how to work and wait.”

Courage rose anew in their hearts, and once more they sped southward, resolved to make greater efforts than any that had gone before.