A Young Hero | Page 4

his delight.
"They'll come after us now," he said, "but I don't care now father has
got away."
"Then you wouldn't mind being taken a prisoner, Phil?" said the
Doctor.
"Oh, yes, I should. It would be dreadful for you."
"And for you, my boy."
"Oh, I don't think I should mind much, Dr Martin. It would be good fun
too."
"Good fun?"
"Yes," said the boy, with a merry grin upon his frank young face. "We
should have no books, and there'd be no lessons."
"I could teach you without books, Phil," said the Doctor, gravely.
"Yes, I forgot that," said the boy. "Oh, what a lot you know!"
"Very little, my dear boy; but we cannot think about lessons now--we
have to escape. We must not let the soldiers take us."
"Of course not; but, I say, Dr Martin, I don't think I understand it a bit.
Why are the French and English going to fight?"
"I'm afraid it is because they consider themselves natural enemies, my
boy. Your people have a great part of North America and my people
have Canada. War has been declared, and King George's soldiers have

come to take Canada from the French King."
"And that means fighting, of course," said Phil. "My father has come
with his men to fight against the Marquis--Marquis--What did you say
his name is?"
"Montcalm. The Marquis de Montcalm," replied the Doctor, "who is at
Quebec."
"And my father's men are going to take Quebec away from him for the
King of England."
"Your father's leader is General Wolfe," said the Doctor, smiling.
"Oh, yes, I know--General Wolfe," said Phil, eagerly. "But, I say, Dr
Martin, shan't we be able to go back to the house--I'm getting so
hungry?"
"No; I'm afraid we must not go back to the house again."
"But all our things are there."
"Yes, all our clothes, and my books."
"But what about dinner?" cried Phil.
"Ah, to be sure," said the old man, smiling, "what about dinner! You
see, Phil," he continued, as he looked about in all directions over the
open country, "your father said we were to get right away from the
fighting, and after it was over he would come and join us."
"Yes, I know," said the boy.
"Well, we should have had to start to-night, or to-morrow, so it only
means that we have come away in a hurry and meet him all the sooner."
"To be sure," said the boy, eagerly.
"You won't mind going without your dinner?"

"Of course not," cried Phil, stoutly.
"And if we have to sleep in a barn or shed somewhere to-night instead
of a comfortable bed, you won't mind that either, will you?"
"Not a bit," cried Phil. "Let's sleep in the forest, and cut down boughs
and pick leaves for a bed. It would be fun. I should like it."
"To be sure you would."
"Wouldn't you, Dr Martin?"
"That I should, my boy," cried the Doctor, who was still eagerly
searching the fields and meadows broken up by patches of forest.
"Look here, Phil; we want to get away, as your father wishes, from all
this terrible war, so we'll put all lessons aside and think of nothing but
making this a holiday excursion amongst the fields and woods; and
when we get tired we'll sit down on a tree trunk and rest, and if the sun
is too hot we will have a nap in the shade. Sometimes we shall be
thirsty."
"And then we'll lie down on the bank of a river and drink," cried Phil,
clapping his hands.
"To be sure--drink the beautiful clear water. We can sleep, too, in the
fir woods. The soft fir needles make a beautiful aromatic bed."
"What's aromatic?" said Phil, with his eyes sparkling.
"Sweet-scented and spicy."
"I shall like that," cried the boy; "only won't the fir needles prick when
we undress?"
"But we shan't undress, my boy."
"What fun! Father will laugh when I tell him by and by. But you don't
say a word about what we are to eat, Dr Martin?"

"Oh, we shall find something to eat. Why, we might catch some fish
perhaps in the streams."
"Yes," cried Phil, excitedly.
"And make a fire and bake them in the hot ashes."
"To be sure," cried Phil, clapping his hands again.
"Sometimes, too, we may be able to dig up a few potatoes."
"And roast them."
"Of course. You'll like making a fire."
"I shall," cried the boy, with emphasis.
"Then we can call at a farm sometimes and buy some bread and milk
and--"
"I say, Dr Martin, this is going to be a holiday. Which way are we
going?"
"Straight away yonder, my boy--south, towards the British
possessions."
"Make haste then. Take hold of my