But now a new terror was added to the scene.  Round the bend of the lake swept other sledges—­quite an army of them; and whilst the French sent up shouts for help, Stark looked round to see what Rogers and his company were doing.

“Here they come! here they come!  Rogers’ Rangers!  Rogers’ Rangers!” yelled his men, as they saw the compact band of veteran woodsmen rushing forth to their aid.

That cry was well known to the French.  For a moment there was a pause, the sledges pulling up as though in doubt whether to rush forward and seek to fight their way through, or to turn and run back to Ticonderoga.  But the energy with which the Rangers came on settled that point.  Every sledge wheeled round and fled, whilst Rogers’ men dashed helter skelter upon them, flinging themselves upon the horses, firing at the occupants, and in spite of all resistance securing three sledges, six horses, and seven French prisoners.

The rest of the sledges escaped, and Rogers and Stark met each other with grave faces.

“They will give notice at Ticonderoga that we are here,” said the former.  “They will come out against us and cut off our retreat.  We must examine the prisoners ourselves and learn all we can from them, and then make our way to the fort as fast as possible through the forest.  The enemy may be upon us before nightfall.”

Fritz, who spoke French as easily as English, had already been questioning the prisoners separately.

“They all tell the same tale,” he said gravely:  “they have five hundred regular soldiers at the fort, and Indians coming in daily.  They were organizing parties to intercept communication between Fort Edward and Fort William Henry.  They are pledged to the extermination of the Rangers wherever they meet them.  Directly they know that we are lurking in their vicinity, they will come out in great numbers against us.”

Rogers’ face was set and stern.

“We will give them a warm welcome when they do!” he said.  “Meantime we will lose no time.  Light up the fires and dry the ammunition which has become wet.  The horses must be sacrificed and the sledges burned.  As for the men, we must keep them till the last minute.  When we go, they can go back to their fort.  They will have nothing to tell there which is not known already.  The Rangers slay men in fair fight, but they do not butcher prisoners.”

The thing was done.  Rogers’ commands were carried out, and in cautious single file the band of Rangers crept through the forest by devious tracks known to themselves, keeping eyes and ears ever on the alert.

“Have a care!” came the warning cry of Charles at last; “I hear the cocking of guns.”

The words had hardly passed his lips before a volley blazed out from the bushes, and many a bold Ranger fell as he stood, shot through the heart.

“Steady, men—­and fire!” cried Rogers, speaking as coolly as though a hail storm and not one of hot lead was raining about them.  Blood was running down his cheek from a graze on the temple; and Fritz felt for the first time the stinging sensation in his arm which he had heard described so many times before.