That was how Doc and I happened to spend the night in a hole beneath a boulder at the foot of our observation tree on the Fort Ann road, while Nason and Cap Huff, with Joseph Phipps and Natanis, kept guard on the low land closer to the river.

Doc and I laid a sapling across the road, a foot from the ground, and in such a position that a man who tripped on it would fall close to our hiding place. If there should be only one man, we knew we’d have him before he knew what hit him. If there were more than one, there’d be a possibility of snaring several.

We spent a wakeful night all for nothing; for the only thing that came near us was a family of skunks. For an hour they disported themselves in our vicinity, digging grubs from the earth and displaying their inquisitive and playful nature by entering our retreat and rambling over us; while we, not daring to move, prayed that nothing would occur to startle them.

When dawn came, I decided we could do no more. “Come on,” I said to Doc. “We’ll go down and join Nason.” Knowing that the Indians were not far from us, I felt uncomfortable in the woods. As anyone who knows Indians can understand, I preferred to be in the open, where we could see what we were doing in case we were cut off.

Doc was all that was mild and harmless. “You go down. I’ll take one more look from up in the tree.”

“What’s the good of that?” I protested. “If only a few come through, we can warn the fort from the bank of the river, just as well as from here. If there should be a lot of ’em—well: in that case a warning wouldn’t be much use to anyone—and neither will we.”

Doc was obstinate. “I’ve been thinking Lanaudiere might be with ’em. I got a hankering for a shot at that friend of yours.” Apologetically he added, “If I get a crack at him, his head’ll be so full of buckshot that they can use his skull for a sieve. I ain’t afraid of those red vermins! If we killed Lanaudiere, you couldn’t make ’em travel out in front of the British army no more: not never! Not without you put turpentine on their red tails bright and early every morning!”

There was, I decided, more than a little truth in what he said. I, too, would count it a pleasure to kill Lanaudiere; and more than that, we could do no greater service to the colonies than to wipe out an Indian leader. Such an occurrence frequently awakens entire Indian nations to the obnoxious aspects of war, and starts them slipping off toward home and mother.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll go with you.”