A Hero of Ticonderoga

he soft undulations of the forest floor with thin, infrequent lines,

em and their shadows, now briefly touched by a glint of sunlight, now casting up the powdery snow from the toes of his snowshoes in a

ed, the forest, for the giant trees which closely pillared its sides s

the alert ear of the hunter caught a less familiar sound. Faint and distant as it was, he at once recognized in it the slow tread of oxen and the creak of

nt of a sled laden with a full cargo of household stuff. Far behind the sled stretched the double furrow of the runners, deep-scored lines of darker blue than the universal shadow of the forest, a steadfast

ong voice of the driver rang through the stillness of the woods, overbearing the monotonous tread of t

r against one of the great trees that bordered it. The driver sprang from his standing place, and, running forward alongside th

g a little way off, as motionless as the great tree trunks around him. Seeing the oxen

ketched a glimpse of my fur cap an' took it for some varmint. Cattle is always lookin' for some sech, in the woods. Your load's all right, I hope," h

up with an expression of pleased interest. "You're comin'

them on the sled are my wife and children." Seth Beeman knew that, according to the custom of the country and the times, this information would presently be required of him,

ied the other. "An' now I wonder if you be akin t

Ezekiel, and he serv

other. "Well, I never thought to meet an ol' friend here in these lonesome woods, to-day. Yes, an ol' friend, for that's what a so

t you know father wa'n't a man of many words

r heads shut when we was a-scoutin' an' a loud wo

lesson, yet he noticed the voice of the other was never

rd the sled, whose occupants were so muffled in bed-quilts and blankets t

edo, little uns. Tol'a

out of her mufflings, and the children, a boy of twelve and a gir

ne: "Wal, I'm glad you're goin' to be nigh the Fort. There's always a doctor there, an' it's sort o' protection, if th

lurch and prolonged creak, the sled settled upon evener ground without disturbance of its passengers or its burden of ho

from the Fort

u can't no ways git to your pitch till long arter nightfall. I know where it is, for I come across it, last fall, when I was trappin' mushrat up the crik. My shanty's the first thing in the shape of a dwelling that you'll come to, an' can't miss it if you foller the back track of my snowshoe

t sounds of the party's progress. It was a silence that their lonely journey had long since accustomed them to, but had not made less depressing, for, in every waking moment, it rem

ght under a roof, for, however it might be, it could but be better than the almost shelterless bivouac that had many times been their

the long howl of the wolves answering one another, or by the appalling scream of a panther. Then, with frequent replenishment of the fire, they

path. He turned his oxen into the diverging road, which, though narrow, gave ample room for the sled. After a little it led to the winding channel of a creek crawling throug

as the gray woods around it. A thin wisp of smoke climbed from the low chimney against the wall of forest, and a waft of its pungent odor came to the traveller

on Nathan, with the hunter's help, unhitched the oxen from the sled. From this they brought the rations of hay

water and salt, and set it to bake on its board, tilted before the fire. The fryi

as to be out of all proportion to the room, chatted of things near an

on the rough log walls. There were skins of many animals that had

, that Job called "saple," and no end of muskrats and minks. There were, also, half a dozen wolf skins, and, conspicuous in size and glossy blackness, were three bear skins, and beside them hung a tawny p

narrations of encounters with the larger ones. He exhibited, with the most pride, a beautiful silver-gray foxskin, and an odd-looking spotted and coarse-haired skin,

h is it?" Set

ngin' to the sea, where he's seen no end on 'em. But them sojers to the Fort is an ign'ant set like all the reg'lars, that we rangers always despised as bad as they did us, an' it don't look no ways r

theory, he gave it no expres

e every war that's ever ben. But I hope the sign'll fail this time. I've seen enough o' war an' I

rned out on a wooden trencher, and conversation was suspended for the more important matter of supper. Not long after this was disposed of, the host a