"Tandakora is now going more slowly," resumed the Onondaga. "His paces
shorten. It may be that he will stop to talk with some one. Ah! he does,
and it is no less a man than Sharp Sword himself. I have looked upon
Sharp Sword's footprints so often that I know them at a glance. He and
Tandakora stood here, facing each other, and talked. Neither moved from
his tracks while he spoke, and so I think it was not a friendly
conference. It is likely that the Ojibway spoke of the defeat of the
French, and Sharp Sword replied that in defeat as well as victory true
allies stand together. Moreover, he said that defeat might be followed
by victory and one must always hope. But Tandakora was not convinced. It
is the custom of the Indian to run away when he knows that his enemy is
too strong for him, and it may be wise. Now Tandakora turns from the
course and goes toward the west. And, lo! his warriors all fall in
behind him! Here is their great trail. Sharp Sword heads in another
direction. He is going with the French and Canadians to the fortress."

The army, under the shadow of its great guns, moved slowly on, and
presently they came upon the terrible field of the year before. Before
them lay the wall, stronger than ever with earth and logs, but not a man
held it. The French and Canadians were in the fortress, and the
Americans and English were free to use the intrenchments as a shelter
for themselves if they chose.

"It's going to be a siege," said Willet.

The cannon of Ticonderoga soon opened, and Amherst's guns replied, the
cautious general moving his great force forward in a manner that
betokened a sure triumph, though it might be slow. But on the following
night the whole French army, save a few hundred men under Hebecourt,