n it," said Grosvenor
to Robert. "He'll conclude that our army is too powerful for him."

"I scarce think so," replied Robert doubtfully. "'Tis not the French
way, at least, not on this continent. Like as not they will depend on
the savages, whom they have with them."

They had been on the march nearly a month when they came to Turtle
Creek, which flows into the Monongahela only eight miles from Fort
Duquesne a strong fortress of logs with bastions, ravelins, ditch,
glacis and covered ways, standing at the junction of the twin streams,
the Monongahela and the Alleghany, that form the great Ohio. Here they
made a little halt and the scouts who had been sent into the woods
reported silence and desolation.

The army rejoiced. It had been a long march, and the wilderness is
hard for those not used to it, even in the best of times. Victory was
now almost in sight. The next day, perhaps, they would march into
Fort Duquesne and take possession, and doubtless a strong detachment
would be sent in pursuit of the flying French and Indians.

Full warrant had they for their expectations, as nothing seemed more
peaceful than the wilderness. The flames from the cooking fires threw
their ruddy light over bough and bush, and disclosed no enemy, and, as
the glow of the coals died down, the peaceful tails of the night birds
showed that the forest was undisturbed.

Far in the night, Robert, Tayoga and Willet crept through the woods to
Fort Duquesne. They found many small trails of both white men and red
men, but none indicating a large force. At last they saw a light under
the western horizon, which they believed to come from Duquesne itself.

"Perhaps they've burned the fort and are abandoning it," said Robert.

Willet shook his head.

"Not likely," he said. "It's more probable that the light comes from
great fires, around which the savages are dancing the war dance."

"What do you think, Tayoga?"

"That the Great Bear is right."

"But surely," said Robert, "they can't hope to withstand an army like
ours."

"Robert," said Willet, "you've lived long enough in it to know that
anything is possible in the wilderness. Contrecoeur, the French
commander at Duquesne, is a brave and capable man. Beaujeu, who stands
next to him, has, they say, a soul of fire. You know what St. Luc is,
the bravest of the brave, and as wise as a fox, and Dumas and Ligneris
are great partisan leaders. Do you think these men will run away
without a fight