than ever and others urged him to go back. But, full of determination, he refused, and continued to direct the movements of his army from his sick bed. His devotion to duty was wonderful and something well worthy of being remembered.
Dave and Henry suffered with the other soldiers. Frequently when night came they had to rest in clothing that was soaked through and through, and the one grain of comfort they extracted from their situation was the thought that each day's march brought them so much nearer to the spot where they supposed little Nell was being kept a prisoner.
"I won't complain if only we get her back," said Henry. And Dave agreed heartily.
It was now the middle of November, and winter had begun to set in in earnest. Ice was forming on every pool and slow-running brook and snow storms were frequent, although none of them amounted to much. The nights were the worst and many a large camp-fire did the soldiers build to keep themselves warm. An advance guard was out constantly, to guard against a surprise, but no French or hostile Indians appeared.
Late one afternoon there were a number of shots fired in the distance and half an hour later a small van-guard came in bringing with them a number of French and Indian prisoners. These prisoners