Page 9 - A Hero of Ticonderoga

CHAPTER II

--THE NEW HOME

The light of a cloudless March morning pervaded the circumscribed
landscape when the inmates of the cabin were astir again. Not many

moments later, a sudden booming report broke the stillness and rolled in
sullen echoes back and forth from mountains and forested shores.

"The sunrise gun to Fort Ti," Job said, in reply to the questioning look of
his guests. "They hain’t no other use for their powder now."

A fainter report, and its fainter answering echoes, boomed through the

breathless air.

"An’ that’s Crown P’int Fort, ten mile furder down the lake. They help to

keep us from getting lonesome up here in the woods." And, indeed, there
was a comfortable assurance of human neighborhood and helpful strength

in these mighty voices that shook the primeval forest with their dull
thunder.

"I don’t sca’cely ever go nigh the forts," Job continued. "I don’t like them
reg’lars an’ their toppin’ ways."

After fortifying themselves with a breakfast, in no wise differing from their
last meal, the travellers set forth on the last stage of their journey, Job

volunteering to accompany them upon it, and see them established in their
new home. They had not gone far on their way down the narrow channel of

the creek when it brought them to the broad, snow-clad expanse of the lake,
lying white and motionless between its rugged shores, bristling with the
forest, save where, on their left, was a stretch of cleared ground, in the

midst of which stood, like a grim sentinel, grown venerable with long years
of steadfast watch, the gray battlements of Fort Ticonderoga.

Here and there could be seen red-coated soldiers, bright dots of color in the
colorless winter landscape, and, above them, lazily flaunting in the light