“Shall I tell you what has gone amiss—­ from the very first there at Otsego?”

“No—­ that concerns not me——­”

“Yes, I shall tell you!  It’s that she knew about—­ the wench here—­ Dolly Glenn.”

“Is that why she refuses you and elects to remain unhappy?” I said incredulously.

“Yes—­ I can say no more....  You are right, Loskiel, and such men as I are wrong—­ utterly and wretchedly wrong.  Sooner or later comes the bolt of lightning.  Hell!  To think that wench should hurl it!”

“But what bolt had she to hurl?” said I, astonished.

He reddened, bit his lip savagely, made as though to speak, then, with a violent gesture, turned away.

A few moments later a cannon shot sounded.  It was the signal for striking tents and packing up; and in every regiment hurry and confusion reigned and the whole camp swarmed with busy soldiery.

But toward evening orders came to unpack and pitch tents again; and whether it had been an exercise to test the quickness of our army for marching, or whether some accident postponed the advance, I do not know.

All that evening, being on duty with my Indians to watch the cattle-guard, I did not see Lois.

The next day I was ordered to take the Indians a mile or two toward Chemung and lie there till relieved; so we went very early and remained near the creek on observation, seeing nothing, until evening, when the relief came with Hanierri and three Stockbridges.  These gave us an account that another soldier had been shot in camp by the accidental discharge of a musket, and that the Light Troops had marched out of their old encampment and had pitched tents one hundred rods in advance.

Also, they informed us that the flying hospital and stores had been removed to the fort, and that Colonel Shreve had taken over the command of that place.

By reason of the darkness, we were late in getting into camp, so again that day I saw nothing of Lois.

On Wednesday it rained heavily about eleven o’clock, and the troops made no movement.  Some Oneidas came in and went to headquarters.  My Indians did not seem to know them.

I was on duty all day at headquarters, translating into Iroquois for the General a speech which he meant to deliver to the Tuscaroras on his return through Easton.  The rain ceased late in the afternoon.  Later, an express came through from Fort Pitt; and before evening orders had gone out that the entire army was to march at eight o’clock in the morning.

Morning came with a booming of cannon.  We did not stir.

Toward eleven, however, the army began to march out as though departing in earnest; but as Major Parr remained with the Rifles, I knew something had gone amiss.

Yet, the other regiments, including my own, marched away gaily enough, with music sounding and colours displayed; and the garrison, boatmen, artillerymen, and all the civil servants and women and children waved them adieu from the parapets of the fort.