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Updated: May 29, 2025
Spiltdorph and I made a circuit of the place that night, and I pointed out to him the dispositions we had made for defense the year before. The French had burned down all the buildings, but the half-finished trenches could yet be seen, and the logs which were to have made the breastwork still littered the ground.
"'I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord," It was not my voice, but another ringing up to heaven from beside me. And the voice kept on and on until the last amen. We filled in the shallow grave and covered it with logs and rocks. Night was at hand before we finished. "You must come with us," said Spiltdorph to the stranger. "The doctor at the fort will do what he can for the child.
But we stripped it and washed it in the brook, and found no wounds upon it except in the head, where it had been struck with a hatchet before its scalp had been stripped off. The cold water brought it back to life and it began to cry again, whereat Spiltdorph took off his coat and wrapped it tenderly about it.
"And how far have we come?" "Five miles!" cried Waggoner. "Damn it, man, you know all this well enough! Don't make me say it! It's incredible! Five miles in thirteen days! Think of it!" I heard Spiltdorph choking behind his cloud of smoke. "Oh, come," said Peyronie, "that's not the way to look at it. Consider a moment. It is one hundred and fifty miles to Fort Duquesne, so I am told.
"Oh, the devils!" and I felt my own blood boiling in my veins. "Come, we must do something!" I said. "We can kill two of them and reload and kill two more before they can reach us. They will not dare pursue us far toward the camp, and may even run at the first fire." "Good!" said Spiltdorph, between his teeth.
Indeed, we have a romance in our own home, a bright-eyed girl of twenty, who, I fear, is soon to leave us, if a certain pert young blade who lives across the river has his way. It will be I who give her away at the altar, for her father lies dead beside the Monongahela, brave, gentle-hearted Spiltdorph.
I glanced across at Spiltdorph, and saw that his eyes were wet and his lips quivering. I did not venture to speak, but my friend, who was ever more tactful than I, moved to the man's side and placed his hand gently on his shoulder. "They died an easy death," he said softly. "See, they are still smiling. They had no fear, no agony. They were dead before they knew that danger threatened.
We reached the end of the road, where the axemen were laboring faithfully, and after watching them for a time, were turning back to camp, when Spiltdorph called my attention to the peculiar appearance of the ground about us. We were in the midst of a grove of chestnuts, and the leaves beneath them for rods around had been turned over and the earth freshly raked up.
Spiltdorph and I walked out to the place the next day and found it an almost perpendicular rock, though two hundred men and a company of miners had been at work for near a week trying to make it passable.
At midnight came the relief, and I made the best of my way back to our quarters, crawled into the tent, whose flaps were raised to let in every breath of air stirring, and lay down beside Spiltdorph. I tried to move softly, but he started awake and put out his hand and touched me. "Is it you, Stewart?" he asked. "Yes," I said, "just in from picket.
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