The green on slopes and
ridges had been deepened and the lake was all silver in the morning
light.
The islands stood up, sharp and clear, and there were the forces of St.
Luc still on his island, and Rogers, through his powerful glasses, was
able to make out the French leader himself walking about, while white
men and Indians were lighting the fires on which they expected to cook
their breakfasts.
Several boats and canoes were visible drawn upon the shore, showing that
St. Luc had saved a portion of his fleet, and it appeared that he and
his men did not fear another attack, or perhaps they wanted it.
Meanwhile rangers and Mohawks prepared their own breakfasts and awaited
with patience the word of their leaders. Apparently there was nothing
but peace. It was a camping party on the island and another on the
mainland, and the waters of the lake danced in the sunshine, reflecting
one brilliant color after another.
"Reenforcements are coming for St. Luc," said Robert, who saw black
specks on the lake to the eastward of the island. "I think that's a
fleet of Indian canoes.
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