James Oxley - With Rogers on the Frontier

Straight southward darted the Colonials, their pursuers a couple of hundred yards in the rear, and following with grim determination.

Seth and Reuben, although they fully realized the seriousness of the situation, felt no very great apprehension as to the outcome. They had entire confidence in their ability to more than hold their own while on the ice, and if they were compelled to take to the land, they did not doubt but that they could find a place of concealment until the danger was passed, or make their way through the forest with sufficient speed to distance pursuit.

The two contingencies they had to fear were that in their rapid flight one or other might trip and fall, injuring himself or his skates, or that there might be another party of the enemy lower down the lake into whose hands they would be driven by those coming after them.

Both these possibilities, so unpleasant to contemplate, had presented themselves to Seth; but they did not daunt his brave spirit, nor did he mention them to Reuben, who no doubt had his own thoughts.

The early dusk of mid-winter drew on as mile after mile of the flawless ice was covered without the pursuers making any gain. By dint of frequent spurting the New Englanders might have widened the gap, and Reuben was anxious that they should do so; but Seth thought differently.

So long as they kept out of range of the French it seemed to him best to reserve their strength and wind, for at any moment the appearance of Canadians in front might render necessary a supreme effort to evade them.

If they should be thus caught between two parties, Seth's mind was made up to fight to the last gasp, as he would rather die fighting his foe than be taken alive only to suffer death subsequently by hideous torture.

"Thank God, it's getting dark!" exclaimed Seth, breaking the silence which had lasted for some time. "If we can keep on as we are now, we'll be able to put ashore and hide ourselves among the trees."

"We can't do it any too soon to suit me," panted Reuben breathlessly, for the tremendous strain was beginning to tell upon him. "I'm tiring fast, and another couple of miles will finish me completely."

"Cheer up – cheer up, Reuben!" responded Seth, giving him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "They're farther behind than they were, and we'll soon be able to make a dash for the woods."

The approach of darkness stirred the Canadians to even greater efforts than they had hitherto put forth, and after a furious spurt, which perceptibly decreased the distance between them and the fugitives, they halted for a moment to send a volley after them.

Their intentions were of the best from their point of view, but happily they might as well have saved their ammunition, for what with being all out of breath themselves and consequently unable to take steady aim, while their moving targets called for no ordinary markmanship, the bullets went "zip, zip!" harmlessly past the New Englanders, ricochetting over the ice as if they were going on indefinitely.

Seth laughed at the vain attempt to put a stop to their flight.

"It would take better shots than they have in the French army to hit us at this distance," he said, "and those fellows aren't going to have another chance either, for we'll get out of their sight right away. Come along, Reuben, we'll take to the woods."

For some time they had been working toward shore, and now they were so near that a few more swift strokes served to bring them to land at a spot where the trees came close to the lake side.

"Here we are!" cried Seth in a tone of manifest relief. "Off with your skates now, Reuben;" and he hastily unbuckled his own.

"Right glad I am to take them off," said Reuben emphatically, "for I'm dead tired of them."

"They've been our best friends notwithstanding," responded Seth, "and we'll need them again before we get back to the fort."

Then, skates off, they dived into the thick forest, where the shadows were already deepening, and with relief beyond expression realized that they were safe from further pursuit.

The Canadians gave them a parting volley as they disappeared, and Seth, turning round, waved his cap at them derisively.

"Fooled this time!" he cried. "Try again!" And Reuben, whose spirits were restored by the passing away of immediate danger, laughed heartily at his impudence.

They had landed on the west side of the lake, and so long as there was sufficient light left for them to pick their steps with any safety, they kept on southward.

At last, however, the darkness grew too dense, and they too weary to go any farther, so they lay down to rest for the night, rejoicing at their escape, although every bone and muscle ached with fatigue.

They were not disturbed in their slumbers, and, quite refreshed by them, set off at dawn, keeping to the woods for a time, but afterward returning to the ice where they judged they were safe.

The rest of the return journey to the fort was free from excitement, and they had a hearty reception from their comrades, who were in considerable doubt as to whether they should ever see them again.

The commander was greatly pleased at their exploit and at the information they brought back concerning what the French were doing at Ticonderoga.

"They are no doubt going to make a very strong place of it, and the longer they are left undisturbed the harder it will be to take it," he said. "I must send word to General Johnson and urge him to make an attack if possible before the winter is over."

Seth's countenance lighted up at these words. From what he had seen, he had no doubt that with a moderately strong force the new stronghold could be captured with all its garrison, and he keenly relished the prospect of having a share in the enterprise.

But nothing was done after all, and the days dragged by as dully as before, until there appeared upon the scene one morning a man with whom Seth was henceforth to be very closely associated, and through whom he was to find the fullest outlet for his adventurous spirit.

This was Robert Rogers, of New Hampshire, one of the most remarkable and picturesque personalities of his time, who rendered splendid service to the English in his own romantic way.

His career had been a strange one. His boyhood was spent amid the rough surroundings of a frontier village. Growing to manhood, he engaged in some occupation which led him to frequent journeyings in the wilderness between the French and English settlements, and these gave him a good knowledge of both. It also taught him to speak French. Just what the mysterious business was is not precisely known, but in all probability it was a smuggling trade with Canada, the dangers and profits of which alike attracted his daring spirit.

For some time previous to his appearance at Fort William Henry he had been actively employed on a series of excursions into the enemy's territory, which he had conducted with such extraordinary skill and uniform success as to earn for himself a great reputation, and Rogers' Rangers, as his men, chiefly New Hampshire borderers, were called, had come to be more feared by the French than any other part of the provincial force.

Seth had heard so much about him that he had become a veritable hero in his mind, and he had quite determined at the first opportunity to offer himself as a recruit to his company.

His joy may be readily imagined, therefore, when the dull routine of the day was broken in upon by the unexpected approach of a band of men whose whole appearance was so striking that he at once realized that they were no other than the famous Rogers' Rangers.

"Look, Reuben!" he cried to his friend as they stood together on the rude ramparts, whence they had been somewhat disconsolately gazing toward the lake, and wishing that some French or Indians would come into sight by way of variety. "See what's coming; I am sure that's Rogers and his Rangers. How glad I am! I've been waiting to see them this long time!"