Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Scouts of the Valley by Joseph A. Altsheler (books for 7th graders TXT) 📖
- Author: Joseph A. Altsheler
Book online «The Scouts of the Valley by Joseph A. Altsheler (books for 7th graders TXT) 📖». Author Joseph A. Altsheler
“I've always thought Paul hez got mixed 'bout that Paris story,” said Tom Ross. “I used to think Paris was the name uv a town, not a man, an' I'm beginnin' to think so ag'in, sence I've been in the East, 'cause I know now that's whar the French come from.”
“But Paris was the name of a man,” persisted Paul. “Maybe the French named their capital after the Paris of the Trojan wars.”
“Then they showed mighty poor jedgment,” said Shif'less Sol. “Ef I'd named my capital after any them old fellers, I'd have called it Hector.”
“You can have danger enough when you're on the tops of hills,” said Henry, who was sitting near the mouth of the cave. “Come here, you fellows, and see what's passing down the lake.”
They looked out, and in the moonlight saw six large war canoes being rowed slowly down the lake, which, though narrow, was quite long. Each canoe held about a dozen warriors, and Henry believed that one of them contained two white faces, evidently those of Braxton Wyatt and Walter Butler.
“Like ez not they've been lookin' fur us,” said Tom Ross.
“Quite likely,” said Henry, “and at the same time they may be engaged in some general movement. See, they will pass within fifty feet of the base of the cliff.”
The five lay on the cave floor, looking through the vines and foliage, and they felt quite sure that they were in absolute security. The six long war canoes moved slowly. The moonlight came out more brightly, and flooded all the bronze faces of the Iroquois. Henry now saw that he was not mistaken, and that Braxton Wyatt and Walter Butler were really in the first boat. From the cover of the cliff he could have picked off either with a rifle bullet, and the temptation was powerful. But he knew that it would lead to an immediate siege, from which they might not escape, and which at least would check their activities and plans for a long time. Similar impulses flitted through the minds of the other four, but all kept still, although fingers flitted noiselessly along rifle stocks until they touched triggers.
The Iroquois war fleet moved slowly on, the two renegades never dreaming of the danger that had threatened them. An unusually bright ray of moonshine fell full upon Braxton Wyatt's face as he paused, and Henry's finger played with the trigger of his rifle. It was hard, very hard, to let such an opportunity go by, but it must be done.
The fleet moved steadily down the lake, the canoes keeping close together. They turned into mere dots upon the water, became smaller and smaller still, until they vanished in the darkness.
“I'm thinkin',” said Shif'less Sol, “that thar's some kind uv a movement on foot. While they may hev been lookin' fur us, it ain't likely that they'd send sixty warriors or so fur sech a purpose. I heard something three or four days ago from a hunter about an attack upon the Iroquois town of Oghwaga.”
“It's most likely true,” said Henry, “and it seems to me that it's our business to join that expedition. What do you fellows think?”
“Just as you do,” they replied with unanimity.
“Then we leave this place and start in the morning,” said Henry.
CHAPTER XVI. THE FIRST BLOW
Summer was now waning, the foliage was taking on its autumn hues, and Indian war parties still surged over the hills and mountains, but the five avoided them all. On one or two occasions they would have been willing to stop and fight, but they had bigger work on hand. They had received from others confirmation of the report that Long Jim had heard from the hunters, and they were quite sure that a strong force was advancing to strike the first blow in revenge for Wyoming. Curiously enough, this body was commanded by a fourth Butler, Colonel William Butler, and according to report it was large and its leaders capable.
When the avenging force lay at the Johnstown settlement on the Delaware, it was joined by the five. They were introduced to the colonel by the celebrated scout and hunter, Tini Murphy, whom they had met several times in the woods, and they were received warmly.
“I've heard of you,” said Colonel Butler with much warmth, “both from hunters and scouts, and also from Adam Colfax. Two of you were to have been tomahawked by Queen Esther at Wyoming.”
Henry indicated the two.
“What you saw at Wyoming is not likely to decrease your zeal against the Indians and their white allies,” continued Colonel Butler.
“Anyone who was there,” said Henry, “would feel all his life, the desire to punish those who did it.”
“I think so, too, from all that I have heard,” continued Colonel Butler. “It is the business of you young men to keep ahead of our column and warn us of what lies before us. I believe you have volunteered for that duty.”
The five looked over Colonel Butler's little army, which numbered only two hundred and fifty men, but they were all strong and brave, and it was the best force that could yet be sent to the harassed border. It might, after all, strike a blow for Wyoming if it marched into no ambush, and Henry and his comrades were resolved to guard it from that greatest of all dangers.
When the little column moved from the Johnstown settlement, the five were far ahead, passing through the woods, up the Susquehanna, toward the Indian villages that lay on its banks, though a great distance above Wyoming. The chief of these was Oghwaga, and, knowing that it was the destination of the little army, they were resolved to visit it, or at least come so near it that they could see what manner of place it was.
“If it's a big village,” said Colonel Butler, “it will be too strong to attack, but it may be that most of the warriors are absent on expeditions.”
They had obtained before starting very careful descriptions of the approaches to the village, and toward the close of an October evening they knew that they were near Oghwaga, the great base of the Iroquois supplies. They considered it very risky and unwise to approach in the daytime, and accordingly they lay in the woods until the dark should come.
The appearance of the wilderness had changed greatly in the three months since Wyoming. All the green was now gone, and it was tinted red and yellow and brown. The skies were a mellow blue, and there was a slight haze over the forest, but the air had the wonderful crispness and freshness of the American autumn. It inspired every one of the five with fresh zeal and energy, because they believed the first blow was about to be
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