They had no food but a little ginger which Pringle chanced to have in his pocket, and a bit of a sausage that Roche had secreted about him.

The snow drifted in their faces.

They were wearied to death, yet dared not lie down; and though always hoping to reach the spot where Fritz declared that Rogers was certain to be found, they discovered, when the grey light of morning came, that they had only fetched a circle, and were at the place they had started from, in perilous proximity to the French fort.
Yet as they gazed at one another in mute despair a more terrible thing happened.

The Indian war whoop sounded loud in their ears, and a band of savages dashed out upon them.

Before they could attempt resistance in their numbed state, they were surrounded and carried off captive.
"We can die like men; that is all that is left to us!" said Pringle, pressing up to Roche to whisper in his ear.