Page 80 - A Hero of Ticonderoga

"He sort o' broke down after the guard went away, an' t'other day we found
him all of a heap down by a big hemlock log that he never got round to cut

up. He hain't seemed to sense much since. He's been dreadful worried about
you, Nathan, all along, ever since you went away."

She did not know the terrible cause of the speechless self-condemnation the
wretch had suffered, nor did she ever learn it.

"I wouldn't tell her," counselled Job. "She'd feel bad, an' that wouldn't pay

any more'n it does to nurse a grudge. Vengeance don't belong to us, poor
critters."

Thenceforth, till Silas Toombs sank from his living death to eternal sleep
not long after this, his stepson gave him thoughtful and kindly care.

At length the young frontiersman took his place among the defenders of his
country. By the side of his old comrade and guardian, he fought in the

losing fight of Hubbardton and helped to win the glorious victory of
Bennington. Yet he is best remembered by the descendants of the old Green

Mountain Boys as the guide who led their fathers in the conquest of
Ticonderoga.

Where once stood the pioneer's log house, spacious farm buildings now
stretch their comfortable quarters. From it, away to the southwest, across
meadows, thrifty homesteads, low woodlands, and the narrowed waters of

Lake Champlain can be seen rising against the foothills of the Adirondacks
the hoary ruins of Ticonderoga. Within the house, upon a pair of massive

moose horns, rests the old flintlock once filled with beans, "good enough
for Yorkers," and later loaded with a leaden death message for Tory and
Hessian. Cherished with as fond pride by its fair possessor, is a worn

pocket-piece-the silver shilling given her ancestor by the beautiful lady of
Fort Ticonderoga.