Chapter 22 - Page 2

against
the rules of the art of war to evacuate a place that is well
provisioned, without standing an assault. This we have not yet done. It
is true, sir, that our ranks are thinned by desertions; but I never
heard of a garrisoned town, or a garrisoned house, capitulating on
account of a few deserters; and, I take it, evacuation is only the next
step before capitulation."

"But our desertions, Joyce, have not been _few_, but _many._
Three times as many have left us, if we include our other losses, as
remain. It matters not whence the loss proceeds, so long as it is a
loss."

"A retreat, with women and baggage, is always a ticklish operation,
your honour, especially if an enemy is pressing your rear! Then we have
a wilderness before us, and the ladies could hardly hold out for so
long a march as that from this place to the Mohawk; short of which
river they will hardly be as safe as they are at present."

"I have had no such march in view, Joyce. You know there is a
comfortable hut, only a mile from this very spot on the mountain side,
where we commenced a clearing for a sheep-pasture, only three summers
since. The field is in rich grass; and, could we once reach the cabin,
and manage to drive a cow or two up there, we might remain a month in
security. As for provisions and clothes, we could carry enough on our
backs to serve us all several weeks; especially if assisted by the
cows."

"I'm glad your honour has thought of this idea," said the serjeant, his
face brightening as he listened; "it will be a beautiful operation to
fall back on that position, when we can hold out no longer in this. The
want of some such arrangement has been my only objection to this post,
captain Willoughby; for, we have always seemed to me, out here in the
wilderness, like a regiment drawn up with a ravine or a swamp in its
rear."

"I am glad to find you relishing the movement for any cause, serjeant.
It is my intention at present to make the necessary arrangements to
evacuate the Hut, while it is light; and, as soon as it is dark, to
retreat by the gates, the palisades, and the rivulet--How now, Jamie?
You look as if there were news to communicate?"

Jamie Allen, in truth, had entered at that instant in so much haste as
to have overlooked the customary ceremony of sending in his name, or
even of knocking.

"News!" repeated the mason, with a sort of wondering smile "and it's
just that I've come to bring. Wad ye think it, baith, gentlemen, that
our people are in their am cabins ag'in, boiling their pots, and frying
their pork, a' the same as if the valley was in a state of
tranquillity, and we so many lairds waiting