"The moonlight fell on him just then, and I can't be mistaken." "And if my eyes tell me true, that's young Wilton beside him," said the hunter.

"But come, lads, hold up your hands to show that we're friends, and we'll go into the fort." They advanced, their hands, though they grasped rifles, held on high, but Robert, exalted and irrepressible, began to sing out anew: "Hey, you, Colden! And you, too, Wilton and Carson! It's fine to see you again, alive and well." There was silence on the wall, and then a great shout of welcome.
"It's Lennox, Robert Lennox himself!" cried someone.
"And Willet, the big hunter!" "And there's Black Rifle, too!" "And Tayoga, the Onondaga!" "Open the gate for 'em! Let 'em come in, in honor." The great gate was thrown wide, and the four entered quickly, to be surrounded at once by a multitude, eager for news of the outside world, from which they had been shut off so long.

Torches, held aloft, cast a flickering light over young soldiers in faded uniforms, men in deerskin, and women in home-made linsey.

Colden, and his two lieutenants, Wilton and Carson, stood together.

They were thin, and their faces brown, but they looked wiry and rugged.