ould not live to get two hundred yards away," Colonel Gansevoort
replied, speaking not unkindly. "The enemy are doubtless on the alert for
some such attempt on our part, since knowing we are not overly burdened
with food."

"I would like to make the try, sir," Cox said, in a pleading tone, "an',
if it so be that they get hold of me again, it'll be better to die in
their hands than stay here where every man looks upon me as somethin' to
be despised."

"You can't be surprised, Cox, that the brave fellows, whose plight has
been rendered more desperate by what you and your companions did, should
be averse to making friendly with you."

"I'm not surprised, sir, an' I'd like to end it all by showin' that I've
still got man enough in me to die tryin' to repair the mischief that's
been done."

"The only way to make atonement is by doing whatsoever comes to your hand
here in the fort. There's like to be plenty of fighting ahead of us, and
you should be able to do more than your share."

"Could it be fixed, sir, so that I might give up nearly all my rations to
those who need 'em the most?" the poor fellow asked, in a tone so pitiful
and weak that my heart really went out in sympathy to him.

"We will stand or fall on the same footing, my man," the colonel said, as
he walked away, and immediately I was relieved of duty I made it my
business to repeat the conversation to every man I came across.

We were all so near death just then that it surely seemed as if we should
have forgiveness in our hearts for such as Cox, lest we be denied that
same boon in the next world.

From that day our people showed less aversion for the repentant deserter,
and of a verity he did the work of three men during every four and twenty
hours thereafter while we remained in Fort Schuyler.

In just eight days after that assault when the Indians so nearly succeeded
in gaining a foothold in the horn-works, another attack was threatened,
and this time it was not unexpected.

We had been punishing so severely those who were working in the trenches,
and had kept the savages such close prisoners in their own encampment,
that it seemed only natural the more soldierly of the men in St. Leger's
army should insist on being led against us.

It was possible for us to tell by the shouts and yells that on a certain
night Thayendanega's cowards had assembled in the British camp for a
powwow, although they had taken good care not to let us see them going
ther