“I never knew men to vanish so swiftly before,” he said, “but last night was good proof that they were here, and that they came in time.  I suppose it’s about the only victory of which we can make boast.”

He spoke the full truth.  From the St. Lawrence to the Ohio the border was already ravaged with fire and sword.  Appeals for help were pouring in from the distant settlements, and the governors of New York, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts scarcely knew what to do.  France had struck the first blow, and she had struck hard.  Young Washington, defeated by overwhelming numbers, was going back to Virginia, and Duquesne, the fort of the French at the junction of the Monongahela and Allegheny, was a powerful rallying place for their own forces and the swarming Indian bands, pouring out of the wilderness, drawn by the tales of unlimited scalps and plunder.

The task before Captain Colden’s slender force was full of danger.  His numbers might have been five times as great and then they would not have been too many to build and hold the fort he was sent to build and hold.  But he had no thought of turning back, and, as soon as Daganoweda and the Mohawks were gone, they started, bending their course somewhat farther toward the south.  At the ford of a river twenty men with horses carrying food, ammunition and other supplies were to meet them, and they reckoned that they could reach it by midnight.

The men with the horses had been sent from another point, and it was not thought then that there was any danger of French and Indian attack before the junction was made, but the colonial authorities had reckoned without the vigor and daring of St. Luc.  Now the most cruel fears assailed young Captain Colden, and Robert and the hunter could not find much argument to remove them.  It was possible that the second force had been ambushed also, and, if so, it had certainly been destroyed, being capable of no such resistance as that made by Colden’s men, and without the aid of the three friends and the Mohawks.  And if the supplies were gone the expedition would be useless.

“Don’t be downhearted about it, captain,” said Willet.  “You say there’s not a man in the party who knows anything about the wilderness, and that they’ve got just enough woods sense to take them to the ford.  Well, that has its saving grace, because now and then, the Lord seems to watch over fool men.  The best of hunters are trapped sometimes in the forest, when fellows who don’t know a deer from a beaver, go through ’em without harm.”

“Then if there’s any virtue in what you say we’ll pray that these men are the biggest fools who ever lived.”

“Smoke! smoke again!” called Robert cheerily, pointing straight ahead.

Sure enough, that long dark thread appeared once more, now against the western sky.  Willet laughed.

“They’re the biggest fools in the forest, just as you hoped, Captain,” he said, “and they’ve taken no more harm than if they had built their fires in a Philadelphia street.  They’ve set themselves down for the night, as peaceful and happy as you please.  If that isn’t the campfire of your men with the pack horses then I’ll eat my cap.”