“If we only had a cannon!” he said, looking proudly at their new blockhouse, “I think I’d build a platform for it there on the roof, and then we could sweep the forest in every direction.  Eh, Will, my lad?”

“But as we haven’t,” said Wilton, “we’ll have to do the sweeping with our rifles.”

“And our men are good marksmen, as they showed in that fight with St. Luc.  But it seems a world away from Philadelphia, doesn’t it, Will?  I wonder what they’re doing there!”

“Counting their gains in the West India trade, looking at the latest fashions from England that have come on the ships up the Delaware, building new houses out Germantown way, none of them thinking much of the war, except old Ben Franklin, who pegs forever at the governor of the Province, the Legislature, and every influential man to take action before the French and Indians seize the whole border.”

“I hope Franklin will stir ’em up, and that they won’t forget us out here in the woods.  For us at least the French and Indians are a reality.”

Meanwhile summer had turned into autumn, and autumn itself was passing.

CHAPTER V

THE RUNNER

Fort Refuge, the stronghold raised by young arms, was the most distant point in the wilderness held by the Anglo-American forces, and for a long time it was cut off entirely from the world.  No message came out of the great forest that rimmed it round, but Colden had been told to build it and hold it until he had orders to leave it, and he and his men waited patiently, until word of some kind should come or they should be attacked by the French and Indian forces that were gathering continually in the north.

They saw the autumn reach its full glory.  The wilderness glowed in intense yellows and reds.  The days grew cool, and the nights cold, the air was crisp and fresh like the breath of life, the young men felt their muscles expand and their courage rise, and they longed for the appearance of the enemy, sure that behind their stout palisade they would be able to defeat whatever numbers came.

Tayoga left them early one morning for a visit to his people.  The leaves were falling then under a sharp west wind, and the sky had a cold, hard tint of blue steel.  Winter was not far away, but the day suited a runner like Tayoga who wished to make speed through the wilderness.  He stood for a moment or two at the edge of the forest, a strong, slender figure outlined against the brown, waved his hand to his friends watching on the palisade, and then disappeared.

“A great Indian,” said young Wilton thoughtfully.  “I confess that I never knew much about the red men or thought much about them until I met him.  I don’t recall having come into contact with a finer mind of its kind.”

“Most of the white people make the mistake of undervaluing the Indians,” said Robert, “but we’ll learn in this war what a power they are.  If the Hodenosaunee had turned against us we’d have been beaten already.”