Langlade gave Robert food which he forced himself to eat, although he was not hungry.  He judged that the French partisan, who could be cruel enough on occasion, had some object in treating him well for the present, and he was not one to disturb such a welcome frame of mind.  His weapons and the extra rifle of Garay that they had brought with them, had already been divided among the warriors, who, pleased with the reward, were content to wait.

The night was spent at the captured camp, and in the morning the entire party, Robert included, started on snowshoes almost due north.  The young prisoner felt a sinking of the heart, when his face was turned away from his own people, and he began an unknown captivity.  He had been certain at first of escape, but it did not seem so sure now.  In former wars many prisoners taken on raids into Canada had never been heard of again, and when he reflected in cold blood he knew that the odds were heavy against a successful flight.  Yet there was Tayoga.  His warning shot had enabled the Onondaga to evade the band, and his comrade would never desert him.  All his surpassing skill and tenacity would be devoted to his aid.  In that lay his hope.

They pressed on toward the north as fast as they could go, and when night came they were all exhausted, but they ate heavily again and Robert received his share.  Langlade continued to treat him kindly, though he still had the feeling that the partisan, if it served him, would be fully as cruel as the Indians.  At night, although they built big fires, Langlade invariably posted a strong watch, and Robert noticed also that he usually shared it, or a part of it, from which habit he surmised that the partisan had received the name of the Owl.  He had hoped that Tayoga might have a chance to rescue him in the dark, but he saw now that the vigilance was too great.

He hid his intense disappointment and kept as cheerful a face as he could.  Langlade, the only white man in the Indian band, was drawn to him somewhat by the mere fact of racial kinship, and the two frequently talked together in the evenings in what was a sort of compulsory friendliness, Robert in this manner picking up scraps of information which when welded together amounted to considerable, being thus confirmed in his belief that Willet with the letter had reached the lake in time.  St. Luc with a formidable force had undertaken a swift march on Albany, but the town had been put in a position of defense, and St. Luc’s vanguard had been forced to retreat by a large body of rangers after a severe conflict.  As the success of the chevalier’s daring enterprise had depended wholly on surprise, he had then withdrawn northward.

But Robert could not find out by any kind of questions where St. Luc was, although he learned that Garay had never returned to Albany and that Hendrik Martinus had made an opportune flight.  Langlade, who was thoroughly a wilderness rover, talked freely and quite boastfully of the French power, which he deemed all pervading and invincible.  Despite the battle at Lake George the fortunes of war had gone so far in favor of France and Canada and against Britain and the Bostonnais.  When the great campaign was renewed in the spring more and bigger victories would crown French valor.  The Owl grew expansive as he talked to the youth, his prisoner.