The forts had been very solidly constructed of great logs, the serrated palisade, deeply and solidly embedded, rose twelve feet high.  A rifle platform ran inside this, connecting the rough barracks and stables, which also were built of logs, the crevices stuffed with moss and smeared and plastered with blue clay from the creek.

These, with the curtain, block-forts, and a deep ditch over which was a log bridge, composed the military works at Tioga; and this was the place into which we now walked, a sentry directing us to Block-House No. 2, which overlooked the Chemung.

And no sooner had we entered and climbed the ladder to the women’s quarters overhead, than: 

“What luxury!” exclaimed Lois, looking down at her bed of fresh-cut balsam, over which their blankets had been cast.  “Could any reasonable woman demand more?  With a full view of the pretty river in the rain, and a real puncheon floor, and a bed of perfume to dream on, and a brave loop to shoot from!  What more could a vain maid ask?” She glanced at me with sweet and humorous eyes, saying:  “Fort Orange is no safer than this log bastion, so scowl on me no more, Euan, but presently take Lanette and me to the parapet where other and lovelier wonders are doubtless to be seen.”

“What further wonders?” asked Lana indifferently.

“Why, sky and earth and river, dear, and the little dicky birds all a-preening under this sweet, sunny veil of rain.  Is not all this mystery of nature wonderful enough to lure us to the rifle-platform?”

Said Lana listlessly:  “I had liefer court a deeper mystery.”

“Which, dear one?”

“Sleep,” said Lana briefly; and I saw how pale she was, kneeling there beside the opened box and sorting out the simple clothing they had brought with them.

For a few minutes longer we conversed, talking of Otsego and of our friends there; and I learned how Colonel Gansevoort had left with his regiment and Lieutenant-Colonel Willet, and was marching hither with Clinton after all.

A soldier brought a wooden bowl, an iron sap-kettle full of sweet water, a hewn bench, and nailed up a blanket cutting the room in two.  Their quarters were now furnished.

I pushed aside the blanket, walked to the inner loop, and gazed down on the miniature parade where the invalids were now being inspected by Colonel Shreve.  When I returned, Lana had changed to a levete and was lying on her balsam couch, cheek on hand, looking up at Lois, who knelt beside her on the puncheon floor, smoothing back her thick, bright hair.  And in the eyes of these two was an expression the like of which I had never before seen, and I stepped back instinctively, like a man who intrudes on privacy unawares.

“Come in, Euan!” cried Lois, with a gaiety which seemed slightly forced; and I came, awkwardly, not meeting their eyes, and made for the ladder to get myself below.

Whereat both laughed.  Lois rose and went behind the blanket to the loop, and Lana said, with a trace of her former levity: