with the others, although a sabre’s point had raked me in the temple, and the blood had frozen on me, and I was a sight to scare a trooper.  Everybody ran that day, and the British took the village, holding it only twenty-four hours.  For our part in it D’ri got the rank of corporal and I was raised from lieutenant to captain.  We made our way to Sackett’s Harbor, where I went into hospital for a month.

Then came a galling time of idleness.  In June we went with General Brown—­D’ri and I and Thurst Miles and Seth Alexander and half a dozen others—­down the river to the scene of our first fighting at Ogdensburg, camping well back in the woods.  It was the evening of the 27th of June that the general sent for me.  He was at the mansion of Mr. Parish, where he had been dining.  He was sitting in his dress-suit.  His dark side-whiskers and hair were brushed carefully forward.  His handsome face turned toward me with a kindly look.

“Bell,” said he, “I wish to send you on very important business.  You have all the qualities of a good scout.  You know the woods.  You have courage and skill and tact.  I wish you to start immediately, go along the river to Morristown, then cut over into the Black River country and deliver this letter to the Comte de Chaumont, at the Chateau Le Ray, in Leraysville.  If you see any signs of the enemy, send a report to me at once.  I shall be here three days.  Take Alexander, Olin, and Miles with you; they are all good men.  When your letter is delivered, report at the Harbor as soon as possible.”

I was on the road with my party in half an hour.  We were all good horsemen.  D’ri knew the shortest way out of the woods in any part of the north country.  Thurst had travelled the forest from Albany to Sackett’s Harbor, and was the best hunter that ever trod a trail in my time.  The night was dark, but we rode at a gallop until we had left the town far behind us.  We were at Morristown before midnight, pounding on the door of the Red Tavern.  The landlord stuck his head out of an upper window, peering down at us by the light of a candle.

“Everything quiet?” I asked.

“Everything quiet,” said he.  “Crossed the river yesterday.  Folks go back ‘n’ forth ’bout the same as ever.  Wife’s in Elizabethtown now, visiting.”

We asked about the west roads and went on our way.  Long before daylight we were climbing the steep road at Rossie to the inn of the Travellers’ Rest—­a tavern famous in its time, that stood half up the hill, with a store, a smithy, and a few houses grouped about it, We came up at a silent walk on a road cushioned with sawdust.  D’ri rapped on the door until I thought he had roused the whole village.  At last a man came to the upper window.  He, too, inspected us with a candle.  Then he opened the door and gave us a hearty welcome.  We put up our horses for a bite, and came into the bar.

“Anything new?” I inquired.