"Tandakora is not thinking much about it," replied the chief.

"Montcalm is a brave general. He shows that he is not afraid of the great army the English and the Bostonnais have gathered. He will not retreat to Crown Point or anywhere else, but will stay at Ticonderoga and defeat his foes."

The black eyes of the Ojibway flickered.

"Tandakora does not undertake to tell Montcalm what he must do," he said, "nor must Montcalm undertake to tell Tandakora what he should do. What Montcalm may do will not now keep Tandakora awake."

St. Luc's heart filled with hot anger, but he was used to dealing with Indians. He understood their minds from the inside, and he had a superb self-control of his own.

"We know that Tandakora is a great chief," he said evenly. "We know too that he and his men are as free as the winds. As they blow where they please so the warriors of Tandakora go where they wish. But Onontio [The Governor-General of Canada.] and Tandakora have long been friends. They have been allies, they have fought side by side in many a battle. If Onontio falls, Tandakora falls with him. If the British and Bostonnais are victorious, there will be room for none of the tribes save the League of the Hodenosaunee, and them Tandakora hates.

Onontio will not be able to protect them any more, and they will be driven from all their hunting grounds."

He paused to watch his words take effect and they obviously stirred the soul of the savage chief who moved uneasily.

"It is true," he said. "Sharp Sword never tells a falsehood. If Onontio is struck down then the British, the Bostonnais and the Hodenosaunee triumph, but my warriors bring me word that our enemies have gathered the greatest force the world has ever seen at the head of Andiatarocte. They come thicker than the leaves of the forest. They have more guns than we can count. They will trample Montcalm and his soldiers under their feet. So, according to our custom, Tandakora and his warriors would go away into the forest, until the British and the Bostonnais scatter, unable to find us. Then, when they are not looking, we will strike them and take many scalps."

Tandakora spoke in his most impressive manner, and, when he ceased, his eyes met St. Luc's defiantly. Again the blood of the Chevalier burned with wrath, but as before he restrained himself, and his smooth voice gave no hint of anger as he replied:

"Odds are of no avail against Montcalm. The children of Onontio are used to dealing with them. Remember, Tandakora, the great victories Montcalm won at Oswego and William Henry. He has the soul of a mighty chief. He has decided to stay here at Ticonderoga and await the enemy, confident that he will win the victory. Tandakora is a great warrior, is he willing to have no share in such a triumph?"

The cruel eyes of the Ojibway glistened.

"The heart of Tandakora is heavy within him," he said. "He and his warriors are not afraid of the British and the Bostonnais. They have fought by the side of Montcalm, but they do not receive all the rewards that Onontio owes them."

"Onontio has given to them freely of his muskets and powder and bullets, and of his blankets and food."

"But he takes from them the prisoners. We have no scalps to carry home."

"It is against the custom of the French to put prisoners to death or torture. Moreover, we have no prisoners here. The rangers taken by Langy have already been sent to Canada."

"There is one in the camp now. He was captured by three of my warriors, those you sent out, and by the law of war he belongs to me.

Yet Sharp Sword and Montcalm hold him. I speak of the youth Lennox, the comrade of the Onondaga, Tayoga, who is my bitterest enemy. I hate Lennox too because he has stood so often in my way and I demand him, to do with as I please, because it is my right."

The Ojibway moved close to St. Luc and the fierce black eyes glared into those of stern blue. The Chevalier did not change his smooth, placatory tone as he replied:

"I cannot give up Lennox. It is true that he was taken by your warriors, but they were then in my service, so he is my prisoner. But he is only a single captive, a lad. Ask for some other and greater reward, Tandakora, and it shall be yours."

"Give me the prisoner, Lennox, and I and my warriors stay and fight with you at Ticonderoga. Refuse him and we go."

The chief's words were sharp and decisive and St. Luc understood him.

He knew that the savage Ojibway hated young Lennox intensely, and would put him to the torture. He never hesitated an instant.

"I cannot yield the prisoner to you," he said. "The custom of the French will not permit it."

"The warriors are a great help in battle, and the reward I ask is but small. St. Luc knows that Montcalm needs men here. What is this boy to St. Luc that he refuses so great a price for him?"

"It cannot be done, Tandakora. I keep the prisoner, Lennox, and later I will send him to Canada to be held there until the war is over."

"Then the forest to-morrow will swallow up Tandakora and his warriors."

The chief returned to the fire and lay at ease in his blanket. St. Luc walked thoughtfully back toward the tent of Montcalm. He knew that it was his duty to report the offer of Tandakora to his chief, but he did so reluctantly.

"You have refused it already?" said the Marquis.

"I have, sir," replied St. Luc.

"Then you have done well. I confirm you in the refusal."

St. Luc saluted with great respect, and again retired from the tent.

CHAPTER XIII

EVE OF BATTLE

Robert awoke the next morning, well physically, but depressed mentally. He believed that a great battle--and a great victory for the Anglo-American army--was coming, and he would have no part in it. The losses of Braddock's defeat and the taking of Fort William Henry by Montcalm would be repaired, once more the flag of his native land and of his ancestral land, would be triumphant, but he would be merely a spectator, even if he were as much as that. It was a bitter reflection, and again he thought of escape. But no plan seemed possible. He was held as firmly in the center of an army, as if he were in the jaws of a powerful vise. Nor was it possible for Tayoga, however great his skill and daring, to reach him there. He strove to be philosophical, but it is hard for youth to reconcile itself at first, though it may soon forget.

Breakfast was given to him, and he was permitted to go outside the tent into a small open s.p.a.ce, though not beyond. On all sides of him stretched the impa.s.sable lines of the French army. There were several other prisoners within the enclosure, a ranger, a hunter, and three or four farmers who had been taken in forays farther south.

The fresh air and the brilliant sunshine revived Robert's spirits. He looked eagerly about him, striving to divine the French intentions, but he could make nothing of them. He knew, however, upon reflection, that this would be so. The French would not put any prisoners in a position to obtain information that would be of great value in the possible event of escape.

He undertook to talk with the other prisoners, but they were a melancholy lot, not to be cheered. They were all thinking of a long, in truth, an indefinite, imprisonment in Canada, and they mourned.

Many people had been taken into Canada by French and Indians in former forays and had been lost forever.

Robert turned away from his comrades and sat down on a stone, where he speculated idly on what was pa.s.sing about him. He believed that the French would withdraw to Crown Point, at least, and might retreat all the way to Canada, leaving Lake Champlain, as well as Lake George, to the complete control of the Anglo-American forces. He expected to see preparations to that effect, and, when he saw none, he concluded that they were merely postponed for a day or two. So far as he could judge, the aspect of the French army was leisurely. He did not observe any signs of trepidation, but then, withdrawal was always easy in the great North American wilderness. There was yet plenty of time for it.

He noticed a complete absence of Indians, and the fact struck him with great surprise. While he was advancing various theories to account for it, young Captain Louis de Galissonniere came, and greeted him cordially.

"I hope you understand that we French know how to treat a prisoner,"

he said.

"I've nothing of which to complain," replied Robert. "This is the second time that I've been with you, and on this occasion, as on the first, I seem to be more of a guest than a captive."

"You're the special prisoner of Colonel de St. Luc, who stands extremely high with the Marquis de Montcalm. The colonel wishes you to be treated well and seems to favor you. Why is it?"

"Frankly, I don't know, but I learned long since that he was a most chivalrous foe. I suppose I am to be sent into Canada along with the other prisoners?"

"I suppose so, but there is no way for you to go just now."

"Why can't I go with your army?"

"With our army?"

"It retreats, of course, before our overwhelming force."