It was a great relief to the weary Loyalists when Davidson at last
bestirred himself, and told all to get ready for the march to the lake.
The band was at once divided into five groups, each containing several
rangers, who were well acquainted with their leader's plans. Dane
stayed close by the Colonel, carried his musket, and assisted him when
his steps lagged. It was a slow, toilsome journey through the forest
on that cold, frosty morning. There were hills to climb, and swamps to
cross. It would have been hard work even in the daytime, but night
added to the difficulty of the undertaking. The Loyalists, not
accustomed to such travelling, often stumbled and tripped over stones
and snags. But the rangers walked as if on a beaten highway, and
proved of great assistance to the less skilful. No one complained,
however, and when any one spoke, it was in a subdued voice. The
Colonel strove bravely to hold his own with the younger men. But he
was becoming very weary, and more than once he leaned on Dane's arm for
support.

"I am sorry to burden you" he said, "but this trip is almost too much
for me."

"I am afraid it is," was the reply. "You should have stayed at home
and let us attend to the rebels."

"I suppose I should have done that," and the Colonel sighed as he
paused for a minute on the brow of a hill they had just climbed. "But
I want to do my part. I did it during the war to the best of my
ability. Jean was proud of me then, and I do not want her to be
ashamed of me now."

Dane was about to reply when a slight sound from one of the rangers