True to the Old Flag: A Tale of the American War of Independence by G. A. Henty (motivational books to read .txt) 📖

could not reach the water itself, as a road ran along parallel with it and the forest was cleared away for some distance. A number of men could be seen going backward and forward on the road.

Having made their observations, the scouts retired again into a thick part of the forest and waited till nightfall.

"How are we to get across?" Harold asked Peter. "It's a good long swim, and we could not carry our muskets and ammunition across."

"Easy enough," the scout said. "Didn't you notice down by the road a pile of planks? I suppose a wagon has broke down there, and the planks have been turned out and nobody has thought anything more about 'em. We'll each take a plank, fasten our rifle and ammunition on it, and swim across; there won't be any difficulty about that. Then, when we've seen what's on the top of that 'ere hill, we'll tramp round to the other end of the lake. I heard that the army was to advance half on each side, so we'll meet 'em coming."

When it was perfectly dark they left their hiding place and crossed the clearing to the spot where Peter had seen the planks. Each took one of them and proceeded to the river side. Peter, Harold, and Jake divested themselves of some of their clothes and fastened these with their rifles and ammunition to the planks. To the Indians the question of getting wet was one of entire indifference, and they did not even take off their hunting shirts. Entering the water the party swam noiselessly across to the other side, pushing their planks before them. On getting out they carried the planks for some distance, as their appearance by the water's edge might excite a suspicion on the part of the Americans that the works had been reconnoitered.

After hiding the planks in the bushes they made their way to Sugar Hill, as the eminence was called. The ascent was made with great circumspection, the Indians going on first. No signs of the enemy were met with, and at last the party stood on the summit of the hill. It was entirely unoccupied by the Americans.

"Well, my fine fellows," laughed the scout, "I reckon ye've been doing a grist of work, and ye might jest as well have been sitting down quietly smoking yer pipes. What on arth possessed ye to leave this hill unguarded?"

In point of fact General St. Clair, who commanded the Americans, had perceived that his position was commanded from this spot. He had only 3000 men under him, and he considered this number too small to hold Ticonderoga, Mount Independence, and Sugar Hill. The two former posts could afford no assistance to the garrison of a fort placed on Sugar Hill, and that place must therefore fall if attacked by the British. On the other hand, he hoped that, should the attention of the English not be called to the importance of the position by the erection of works upon it, it might be overlooked, and that General Burgoyne on his arrival might at once attack the position which he had prepared with so much care.

Having ascertained that the hill was unoccupied, Peter proposed at once to continue the march. Harold suggested to him that it would be better to wait until morning, as from their lofty position they would be able to overlook the whole of the enemy's lines of defense and might obtain information of vital importance to the general. Peter saw the advantage of the suggestion. Two of the Indians were placed on watch, and the rest of the party lay down to sleep. At daybreak they saw that the delay had been fully justified, for they had now a view of the water which separated Ticonderoga from Mount Independence, and perceived that the Americans had made a strong bridge of communication between these posts. Twenty-two piers had been sunk at equal distances, and between them boats were placed, fastened with chains to the piers. A strong bridge of planks connected the whole. On the Lake Champlain side of the bridge a boom, composed of great trees fastened together with double chains, had been placed. Thus, not only had communication been established across the stream, but an effectual barrier erected to the passage of the fleet. Fully satisfied with the result of their investigations, the party set out on their return.

CHAPTER XII. THE SETTLER'S HUT.

Before starting they stood for a minute or two looking over the forest which they were to traverse. To Harold's eyes all appeared quiet and still. Here and there were clearings where settlers had established themselves; but, with these exceptions, the forest stretched away like a green sea.

"Tarnation!" Peter exclaimed. "We'll have all our work to get through safely; eh, chief?"

The Seneca nodded.

"What makes you say so?" Harold asked in surprise. "I see nothing."

Peter looked at him reproachfully.

"I'm downright ashamed of ye, lad. You should have been long enough in the woods by this time to know smoke when you see it. Why, there it is curling up from the trees in a dozen—ay, in a score of places. There must be hundreds of men out scouting or camping in them woods."

Harold looked fixedly again at the forests, but even now he could not detect the signs which were so plain to the scout.

"You may call me as blind as a bat, Peter," he said with a laugh, "but I can see nothing. Looking hard I imagine I can see a light mist here and there, but I believe it is nothing but fancy."

"It's clear enough to me, lad, and to the redskins. What do you say, chief?"

"Too much men," the Seneca replied sententiously.

For another minute or two he and Peter stood watching the forest, and then in a few words consulted together as to the best line to follow to avoid meeting the foe who, to their eyes, swarmed in the forest.

"It's mighty lucky," the hunter said as they turned to descend the hill, which was covered with trees to its very summit, "that they're white men and not redskins out in the woods, there. I don't say that there's not many frontiersmen who know the way of the woods as well as the redskins. I do myself, and when it comes to fighting we can lick 'em on their own ground; but in scouting we aint nowhere—not the best of us. The redskin seems to have an instinct more like that of an animal than a man. I don't say as he can smell a man a mile off as a dog can do, but he seems to know when the enemy's about; his ears can hear noises which we can't; his eyes see marks on the ground when the keenest-sighted white man sees nothing. If that wood was as full of redskins as it is of whites to-day, our sculps wouldn't be worth a charge of powder."

"You are not going to follow the shores of the lake, I suppose?" Harold asked.

"No," Peter said. "They'll be as thick as peas down there, watching for the first sight of our fleet. No, we must just keep through the woods and be as still and as silent as if the trees had ears. You'd best look to the priming of yer piece before we goes further, for it's likely enough you'll have to use it before the day's done, and a miss-fire might cost you yer life. Tell that nigger of yourn that he's not to open his mouth again till I gives him leave."

With a long stealthy tread the party descended the mountain and took their way through the woods. Every hundred yards or so they stopped and listened intently. When any noise, even of the slightest kind, was heard, all dropped to the ground until the chief had scouted round and discovered the way was clear. Once or twice they heard the sound of men's voices and a distant laugh, but they passed on without seeing those who uttered them.

Presently they again heard voices, this time raised as if in angry dispute. The Seneca would, as before, have made a long d�tour to avoid them, but Peter said.

"Let's have a squint at what's going on, chief."

With redoubled caution they again advanced until they stood at the edge of the clearing. It was a patch of land some hundred yards wide, and extending from the shore of the lake nearly a quarter of a mile inland. In the center stood a log hut, neatly and carefully built. A few flowers grew around the house, and the whole bore signs of greater neatness and comfort than was usual in the cabins of the backwood settlers.

The point where the party had reached the edge of the wood was immediately opposite the house. Near it stood a group of some twenty men, one of whom, apparently their leader, was gesticulating angrily as he addressed a man who stood facing him.

"I tell ye, ye're a darned royalist—ye're a traitor to the country, and I've a mind to hang ye and all belonging to ye to the nearest bough."

"I tell you," the man answered calmly, but in the still air every word he said could be heard by those at the edge of the forest, "I hae naething to do with the trouble ane way or the ither. I am a quiet settler, whose business only is to mak a hame for my wife and bairn; but, if you ask me to drink success to the Congress and confusion to the king's troops, I tell you I willna do it; not even if you are brutal enough, but this I canna believe possible, to carry your threats into execution. I hae served my time in a king's regiment. With the bounty I received instead o' pension on my discharge I settled here wi' my wife and bairn, and no one shall say that Duncan Cameron was a traitor to his king. We do no harm to anyone; we tak no part for or against you; we only ask to be allowed to live in peace."

"That ye shall not," the man said. "The king's troops have got Injuns with 'em, and they're going to burn and kill all those who won't take part with 'em. It's time we should show 'em as we can play at that game, too. Now ye've either got to swear to be faithful to the States of America or up you go."

"I canna swear," the settler said firmly. "You may kill me if you will, but, if you are men, you will nae harm my wife and girl."

"We'll just do to you as the redskins'll do to our people," the man said. "We'll make a sweep of the hull lot of you. Here, you fellows, fetch the woman and girl out of the house and then set a light to it."

Four or five men entered the house. A minute later screams were heard and a woman and child were dragged out. The settler sprang toward them, but three or four men seized him.

"Now," the man said, stepping toward the house, "we'll show 'em a bonfire."

As he neared the door a crack of a rifle was heard and the ruffian fell dead in his tracks. A yell of astonishment and rage broke from his followers.

"Jerusalem, youngster! you've got us into a nice fix. Howsomever, since you've begun it, here goes."

And the rifle of the hunter brought down another of the Americans. These, following the first impulse of a frontiersman when attacked, fled for shelter to the house, leaving the settler, with his wife and daughter, standing alone.

"Ye'd best get out of the way," Peter shouted, "or ye may get a bit of lead that wasn't intended for ye."

Catching up his child, Cameron ran toward the forest, making for the side on which his unknown friends were placed, but keeping down toward the lake, so as to be out of their line of fire.

"Make down to 'em, Harold," Peter said. "Tell 'em they'd best go to some neighbor's and stop there for a day or two. The army'll be here to-morrow or next day. Be quick about it, and come back as fast as ye can. I tell ye we're in a hornets' nest, and it'll be as much as we can do to get out of it."

A scattering fire was now being exchanged between the redskins behind the shelter of the trees and the Americans firing from the windows of the log house. Harold was but two or three minutes absent.

"All right, Peter!" he exclaimed, as he rejoined them.

"Come along, then," the hunter said. "Now, chief, let's make up round the top of this clearing and then foot it."

The chief at once put himself at the head of the party, and the nine men strode