"He's at No. 4. His raft was swept over these falls, and he and his men had a narrow escape. Then he made a new raft and was nearly lost at the falls below. We'd like to stop longer with you, boys, but can't. We're carrying food to the fellows up the river."

"You must get there as quick as you can. We left about seventy men up there, starving and going mad for want of food."

"Some more birches are to follow us in a couple of days, and you'll meet them on your way down."

They gave us some food and then made the carry, up by the falls, and left us. We ate and drank some more, and then slept for an hour. When we woke up, we felt much stronger, and went to work making another raft.

The next day we completed the raft early in the morning; and drifted down to the waterfall of which they had spoken. We kept our ears and eyes open, and went ash.o.r.e in time to avoid it. We had built a fire and were making a shelter, when three more canoes came up, and we camped together with the men. We had all that we could eat and it was delightful to us to meet these clean, healthy, robust men, full of life.

[Sidenote: FORT NO. 4]

In the morning they helped us lower our raft down the fifty feet of rapids. They gave us some nails, and we added to our raft and made it stronger, and then poled it out into the river, and drifted down with the current. We arrived at Fort No. 4 at sunset. It was the 9th of November. We had spent two months in that dreadful, barren wilderness.

When we came in sight of the fort, and poled our raft to the sh.o.r.e, men and women in good Christian dress came running down to meet us. Our hearts rose up in our throats. We could not speak from our happiness.

The tears rolled down our cheeks and we sobbed from joy.

How fine they looked, those men with their clean-shaven faces, and their hair neatly done up in cues! And how beautiful and kind the women!

Such few clothes as we still had were in rags. Our hair and beards were long and matted together; our faces and hands black from exposure and dirt and grime. We felt ashamed of our appearance and would gladly have sneaked in unseen. But they made of us as if we had been three prodigal sons. And the flesh-pots, the fatted calf, and the honey were all offered to us.

Rogers claimed us for a short time, to get news from the camp, and told us he was going up the next morning.

We had a supper of the best there was in the fort, and you can guess how it looked and tasted to men who had lived for weeks on corn and leather straps and nothing; and who had watched with greedy eyes the cutting up of an old white owl.

They gave us a room, with soap and tubs of warm water, and we got rid of some of the grime, cut off our beards, shaved our faces, and put on the clothes they left for us. Amos said:--

"B-Ben, I feel as if No. 4 must be p-pretty near h-heaven."

"Yes! But it isn't up the river."

When we came out, the men crowded round to hear our adventures. Amos started to tell the story, and when he got hung up on a word, Edmund would go on with the tale.

[Sidenote: BEN HAS A FEVER]

I felt hot and feeble and sick. My head ached. I became dizzy, and finally asked some one to take me to a room where I could lie down, and I went to bed. I haven't any clear idea of what happened afterward. I have a faint recollection of Edmund and Amos bending over me, saying good-by. But I do remember that Indian who tried again and again to scalp me. John Stark drove him off several times, but he kept coming back, and at last caught me by the hair, ran his knife round my head, braced his foot on my shoulder, pulled, and I felt my scalp go. Then I knew nothing more till I opened my eyes, and saw the rafters above, and the bedclothes about me.

I smelt smoke, and heard the wood snap and crackle. Beside the fireplace a girl was seated, knitting. Such a pretty girl, the loveliest I had ever seen. I watched her knit, and then stop and count the st.i.tches. How beautiful she was, with her light brown hair, the pretty side face, with the fresh colour in it! Her figure was lithe, supple, full of grace. I thought at once of Shakespeare's Rosalind. My heart went out to her. As I gazed, she looked up, and turned a pair of big brown eyes at me. I had never been in love before. But, as she rose and came over to the bed, I said to myself:--

"This is she. This is the one for whom I have waited."

She smiled, and a little dimple came in her cheek.

"Ah! I'm glad you've come to your senses again. How do you feel?"

"Perfectly content and happy. I seem to be in a pleasant dream."

"That's good. You've had dreams enough, in the last month, that didn't seem pleasant. You must keep quiet. I'll be back in a minute."

She returned with her mother, who gave me some medicine, and a drink of broth, and I fell asleep. When I awoke, the pretty girl was knitting by the fire. She got me some broth, and after I had drunk it brought a flax-wheel and sat down by it. I was sick and weak, but the joy of Michael Wigglesworth's saints in heaven was nothing compared to mine.

That is, until the dreadful thought occurred that she might have been already sought and won by some one else. But I said: "Keep your courage up, Ben. She isn't over seventeen. I'm sick, and she's here, and I won't get well in a hurry."

[Sidenote: RUTH]

How well I remember her, sitting by the flax-wheel, spinning,--even the pepper and salt homespun dress, the blue and white checked ap.r.o.n, the little shoes with the silver buckles, and the glimpse of gray stocking.

"Will you please tell me your name?"

"Ruth. Ruth Elliot."

"Ruth? That's the sweetest name of all. It suits you too. But where am I, and what good fortune brought me here?"

"You are at Fort No. 4, or Charlestown as they call it now. You were with Rogers in the woods, and floated down the river with Sergeant Munro and Amos Locke. You have been out of your head with a fever for nearly a month."

"Yes, yes. I remember now. How many of the Rangers got back?"

"About one hundred. They came in at different places. Twelve days after you arrived, Rogers came down with those who were at the Ammonusuc. Some were insane, and some had died before he reached them. It was good to see them back again. But they were terribly wasted and worn. After they had been here a few days, they started for Crown Point, over the road which Captain Stark has just cut through the woods."

"One hundred out of one hundred and forty-five? Well, it might have been worse. And what news is there of General Wolfe and his army? When I last heard of them, they were on their way up the St. Lawrence to Quebec."

"Quebec is taken."

"That's good. General Wolfe will get great praise and reward for that."

"If he were alive, he might, but there was a desperate fight, and Wolfe was killed in it, and Montcalm too."

"Both dead? They were brave men and skilful soldiers. Cut off in their prime like Lord Howe. And what is Amherst doing?"

[Sidenote: BEN TELLS HIS ADVENTURES]

"Amherst is rebuilding the fort at Crown Point. He will do nothing more this year. It is too late. In the spring he will go down and take Montreal, and end the war."

"And the Rangers--what about them?"

"Most of them have gone home. Sergeant Munro and Mr. Locke pa.s.sed through here a few days ago. They would have stopped, but the fort is full of sick soldiers, and as they could be of no help, they went on their way."

When she had given me the news, it was her turn to question, and mine to answer. I had to tell her all of our adventures during the war, and she laughed and cried over them. I grew more and more deeply in love. I was in no haste to get well, but nature was against me. Every bit of food she gave me seemed to have some wonderful life-giving power in it and my health came back in bounds. After it returned, I nearly fell sick again from the dreadful fear that I might lose her. As the time for my departure approached, our conversation would halt and stop, and we sat in silence. I felt down-hearted and hadn't the courage to test my fate, till one day I saw the tears gather in her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. Then we soon had an understanding, and our light-heartedness came back.

"Oh, Ben, I couldn't bear to have you leave, and now I'm so happy."

But she was a wilful thing, and though her name was Ruth, she objected to following the example of her namesake in the Bible.

"I may be Ruth, but you're not Boaz."

I stoutly a.s.serted that I was baptized Benjamin Boaz Comee, but I could not bring her to see that she should leave all and follow me.

"No, no, Benjamin Boaz. You're a pretender, and times have changed. I might not like your people, and they might not like me. Father thinks a deal of you, and mother loves you as if you were her own son. And you repay their love by trying to steal me away from them. Is that fair to them, Boaz? Don't you think they would miss their little girl? And that their life would be gloomy without me? And besides, Ben, you told me that they had all the blacksmiths in Lexington that were needed, and that your chances would be poor. And here we're just pining for another blacksmith. The new road through the woods puts us on the main highway to Canada, and there's no better place for a blacksmith than this. Now that the Indians are gone, you could take up some of that intervale land up the river, that they talk about, and then I'm here, and if Benjamin Boaz Comee wants Ruth, he must follow her. Ben, I like my own way."

[Sidenote: WANTED: A BLACKSMITH]

"I like your own way too, and will live wherever you please, provided it be with you."