rolf in the woods- 第51部分

before　day　he　would　surely　be　discovered。　His　uniform　might　save

his　life；　but　soldiers　have　an　awkward；　hasty　way　of　dealing

summarily　with　a　spy　　then　discovering　too　late　that　he　was　in

uniform。



From　time　to　time　he　peered　forth；　but　the　scene　was　unchanged　

the　sleeping　regiment；　the　pacing　sentries；　the　ever…brightening

moon。　Then　the　guard　was　changed；　and　the　sentries　relieved

selected　of　all　places　for　their　beds；　the　bank　beside　the

hay…cock。　Again　one　of　them　went　to　help　himself　to　some　hay　for

a　couch；　and　again　the　comic　anger　as　he　discovered　it　to　be　a

bed　of　thorns。　How　thankful　Rolf　was　for　those　annoying　things

that　pricked　his　face　and　neck。



He　was　now　hemmed　in　on　every　side　and；　not　knowing　what　to　do；

did　nothing。　For　a　couple　of　hours　he　lay　still；　then　actually

fell　asleep。　He　was　awakened　by　a　faint　rustling　near　his　head

and　peered　forth　to　see　a　couple　of　field　mice　playing　about。



The　moon　was　very　bright　now；　and　the　movements　of　the　mice　were

plain；　they　were　feeding　on　the　seeds　of　plants　in　the　hay…cock；

and　from　time　to　time　dashed　under　…　the　hay。　Then　they　gambolled

farther　off　and　were　making　merry　over　a　pod　of　wild　peas　when　a

light　form　came　skimming　noiselessly　over　the　field。　There　was　a

flash；　a　hurried　rush；　a　clutch；　a　faint　squeak；　and　one　of　the

mice　was　borne　away　in　the　claws　of　its　feathered　foe。　The

survivor　scrambled　under　the　hay　over　Rolf's　face　and　somewhere

into　hiding。



The　night　passed　in　many　short　naps。　The　bugle　sounded　at

daybreak　and　the　soldiers　arose　to　make　breakfast。　Again　one

approached　to　use　a　handful　of　hay　for　fire…kindler；　and　again

the　friendly　thistles　did　their　part。　More　and　more　now　his　ear

caught　suggestive　words　and　sounds　　〃Plattsburg〃　　〃the

colonel〃　　etc。



The　breakfast　smelt　wonderfully　captivating　　poor　Rolf　was

famished。　The　alluring　aroma　of　coffee　permeated　the　hay…cock。　He

had　his　dried　meat；　but　his　need　was　water；　he　was　tormented　with

thirst；　and　stiff　and　tortured；　he　was　making　the　hardest　fight

of　his　life。　It　seemed　long；　though　doubtless　it　was　less　than

half　an　hour　before　the　meal　was　finished；　and　to　Rolf's　relief

there　were　sounds　of　marching　and　the　noises　were　drowned　in　the

distance。



By　keeping　his　head　covered　with　hay　and　slowly　raising　it；　he

was　safe　to　take　a　look　around。　It　was　a　bright；　sunny　morning。

The　hay…cock；　or　thistle…cock；　was　one　of　several　that　had　been

rejected。　It　was　a　quarter…mile　from　cover；　the　soldiers　were　at

work　cutting　timber　and　building　a　stockade　around　the　mill；　and；

most　dreadful　to　relate；　a　small　dog　was　prowling　about；　looking

for　scraps　on　the　scene　of　the　soldiers'　breakfast。　If　that　dog

came　near　his　hiding…place；　he　knew　the　game　was　up。　At　such

close　quarters；　you　can　fool　a　man　but　not　a　dog。



Fortunately　the　breakfast　tailings　proved　abundant；　and　the　dog

went　off　to　assist　a　friend　of　his　in　making　sundry　interesting

smell　analyses　along　the　gate　posts　of　the　stockade。







Chapter　76。　The　Duel



This　was　temporary　relief；　but　left　no　suggestion　of　complete

escape。　He　lay　there　till　nearly　noon　suffering　more　and　more

from　the　cramped　position　and　thirst；　and　utterly　puzzled　as　to

the　next　move。



〃When　ye　don't　like　whar　ye　air；　git　up　without　any　fuss；　and　go

whar　ye　want　to　be；〃　was　what　Sylvanne　once　said　to　him；　and　it

came　to　Rolf　with　something　like　a　comic　shock。　The　soldiers　were

busy　in　the　woods　and　around　the　forges。　In　half　an　hour　it　would

be　noon　and　they　might　come　back　to　eat。



Rolf　rose　without　attempting　any　further　concealment；　then

stopped；　made　a　bundle　of　the　stuff　that　had　sheltered　him　and；

carrying　this　on　his　shoulder；　strode　boldly　across　the　field

toward　the　woods。



His　scout　uniform　was　inconspicuous；　the　scouts　on　duty　at　the

mill　saw　only　one　of　themselves　taking　a　bundle　of　hay　round　to

the　stables。



He　reached　the　woods　absolutely　unchallenged。　After　a　few　yards

in　its　friendly　shade；　he　dropped　the　thorny　bundle　and　strode

swiftly　toward　his　own　camp。　He　had　not　gone　a　hundred　yards

before　a　voice　of　French　type　cried　〃'Alt；〃　and　he　was　face　to

face　with　a　sentry　whose　musket　was　levelled　at　him。



A　quick　glance　interchanged；　and　each　gasped　out　the　other's

name。



〃Francois　la　Colle！〃



〃Rolf　Kittering！　Mon　Dieu！　I　ought　to　shoot　you；　Rolf；　I　cannot；

I　cannot！　But　run；　run！　I'll　shoot　over　your　head；〃　and　his

kindly　eyes　filled　with　tears。



Rolf　needed　no　second　hint；　he　ran　like　a　deer；　and　the　musket

ball　rattled　the　branches　above　his　shoulders。



In　a　few　minutes　other　soldiers　came　running　and　from　La　Colle

they　heard　of　the　hostile　spy　in　camp。



〃I　shoot；　I　t'ink　maybe　I　not　hit　eem；　maybe　some　brood　dere？　No；

dat　netting。〃



There　were　both　runners　and　trackers　in　camp。　They　were　like

bloodhounds　and　they　took　up　the　trail　of　the　fugitive。　But　Rolf

was　playing　his　own　game　now；　he　was　〃Flying　Kittering。〃　A

crooked　trail　is　hard　to　follow；　and；　going　at　the　long　stride

that　had　made　his　success；　he　left　many　a　crook　and　turn。　Before

two　miles　I　they　gave　it　up　and　the　fugitive　coming　to　the　river

drank　　a　deep　and　cooling　draught；　the　first　he　had　had　that　day。

Five　miles　through　is　the　dense　forest　that　lies　between　La　Colle

and　the　border。　He　struck　a　creek　affluent　of　the　Richelieu　River　and

followed　to　its　forks；　which　was　the　place　of　rendezvous　with　Quonab。



It　was　evening　as　he　drew　near　and　after　long；　attentive

listening　he　gave　the　cry　of　the　barred　owl：



The　answer　came：　a　repetition　of　the　last　line；　and　a　minute

later　the　two　scouts　were　together。



As　they　stood；　they　were　startled　by　a　new；　sudden　answer；　an

exact　repetition　of　the　first　call。　Rolf　had　recovered　his　rifle

from　its　hiding　place　and　instantly　both　made　ready　for　some

hostile　prowler；　then　after　a　long　silence　he　gave　the　final　wail

line　〃hoooo…aw〃　and　that　in　the　woods　means；　〃Who　are　you？〃



Promptly　the　reply　came：



〃Wa　wah　wa　wah　Wa　wah　wa　hoooo…aw。〃



But　this　was　the　wrong　reply。　It　should　have　been　only　the　last

half。　The　imitation　was　perfect；　except；　perhaps；　on　the　last

note；　which　was　a　trifle　too　human。　But　the　signal　was　well　done；

it　was　an　expert　calling；　either　an　Indian　or　some　thoroughly

seasoned　scout；　yet　Quonab　was　not　deceived　into　thinking　it　an

owl。　He　touched　his　cheek　and　his　coat；　which；　in　the　scout　sign

language；　means　〃red　coat；〃　i。　e。；　Britisher。



Rolf　and　his　partner　got　silently　out　of　sight；　each　with　his

rlile　cocked　and　ready　to　make　a　hole　in　any　red　uniform　or　badge

that　might　show　itself。　Then　commenced　a　very　peculiar　duel；　for

evidently　the　enemy　was　as　clever　as　themselves　and　equally

anxious　to　draw　them　out　of　cover。



Wa…wah…wa　hooo…aw　called　the　stranger；　giving　the　right　answer　in

the　wrong　place。　He　was　barely　a　hundred　yards　off；　and；　as　the

two　strained　their　senses　to　locate　him；　they　heard　a　faint　click

that　told　of　his　approach。



Rolf　turned　his　head　and　behind　a　tree　uttered　again　the　Wa…wah

…a　…　hoo　which　muffled　by　his　position　would　convince　the　foe

that　he　was　retreating。　The　answer　came　promptly　and　much　nearer：



Wa　…　wah　…　wa　…　hoooo…aw。



Good！　the　medicine　was　working。　So　Rolf　softened　his　voice　still

more；　while　Quonab　got　ready　to　shoot。



The　Wa　…　wa　…　hooo…aw　that　came　in　answer　this　time　was

startlingly　clear　and　loud　and　nearly　perfect　in　intonation；　but

again　betrayed　by　the　human　timbre　of　the　aw。　A　minute　or　two

more　and　they　would　reach　a　climax。



After　another　wait；　Rolf　muffled　his　voice　and　gave　the　single

hooo…aw；　and　a　great　broad…winged　owl　came　swooping　through　the

forest；　alighted　on　a　tree　overhead；　peered　about；　then　thrilled

them　with　his　weird：



Wa　…　hoo　…　wa　…　boo



Wa　…　hoo　…wa　…　hooooooooo…aw；　the　last　note　with　the　singular

human　quality　that　had　so　completely　set　them　astray。







Chapter　77。　Why　Plattsburg　Was　Raided



The　owl's　hull　reputation　for　wisdom　is　built　up　on　lookin'　wise

and　keepin'　mum。　　　Sayings　of　St　Sylvanne



THE　owl　incident　was　one　of　the　comedies　of　their　life；　now　they

had　business　on　hand。　The　scraps　of　news　brought　by　Quonab　pieced

out　with　those　secured　by　Rolf；　spelt　clearly　this：　that　Colonel

Murray　with　about　a　thousand　men　was　planning　a　raid　on

Plattsburg。



Their　duty　was　to　notify　General　Hampton　without　delay。



Burlington；　forty　miles　away；　was　headquarters。　Plattsburg；

twenty　miles　away；　was　marked　for　spoil。



One　more　item　they　must　add：　Was　the　raid　to　baby　land　or　water？

If　the　latter；　then　they　must　know　what　preparations　were　being

made　at　the　British　naval　station；　Isle　au　Noix。　They　travelled

all　night　through　the　dark　woods；　to　get　there；　though　it　was　but

seven　miles　away；　and　in　the　first　full　light　they　saw　the

gallant　array　of　two　warships；　three　gunboats；　and　about　fifty

long　boats；　all　ready；　undoubtedly　waiting　only　for　a　change　in

the　wind；　which　at　this　season　blew　on　Champlain　almost　steadily

form　the　south。



A　three…hour；　ten…mile　tramp　through　ways　now　familiar　brought

Rolf　and　his　partner　to　the　north　of　the　Big　Chazy　where　the

canoe　was　hidden；　and　without　loss　of　time　they　pushed　off　for

Burlington；　thirty　miles　away。　The　wind　was　head　on；　and　when

four　hours　later　they　stopped　for　noon；　they　had　made　not　more

than　a　dozen　miles。



All　that　afternoon　they　had　to　fight　a　heavy　sea；　this　meant　they

must　keep　near　shore　in　case　of　an　upset；　and　so　lengthened　the

course；　but　it　also　meant　that　the　enemy　would　not　move　so　long

as　this　wind　kept　up。



It　was　six　at　night　before　the　scouts　ran　into　Burlington　Harbour

and　made　for　Hampton's　headquarters。



His　aide　received　them　and；　after　learning　that　they　had　news；

went　in　to　the　general。　From　the　inner　room　now　they　heard　in

unnecessarily　loud　tones　the