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
The little white band soon saw that the Indians were gone from their front. They scouted some distance, and, finding no enemy, hurried back to Colonel Butler. The troops were pushed forward, and before night they reached Cunahunta, which they burned also. Some farther advance was made into the Indian country, and more destruction was done, but now the winter was approaching, and many of the men insisted upon returning home to protect their families. Others were to rejoin the main Revolutionary army, and the Iroquois campaign was to stop for the time. The first blow had been struck, and it was a hard one, but the second blow and third and fourth and more, which the five knew were so badly needed, must wait.
Henry and his comrades were deeply disappointed. They had hoped to go far into the Iroquois country, to break the power of the Six Nations, to hunt down the Butlers and the Johnsons and Brant himself, but they could not wholly blame their commander. The rear guard, or, rather, the forest guard of the Revolution, was a slender and small force indeed.
Henry and his comrades said farewell to Colonel Butler with much personal regret, and also to the gallant troops, some of whom were Morgan's riflemen from Virginia. The farewells to William Gray, Bob Taylor, and Cornelius Heemskerk were more intimate.
“I think we'll see more of one another in other campaigns,” said Gray.
“We'll be on the battle line, side by side, once more,” said Taylor, “and we'll strike another blow for Wyoming.”
“I foresee,” said Cornelius Heemskerk, “that I, a peaceful man, who ought to be painting blue plates in Holland, will be drawn into danger in the great, dark wilderness again, and that you will be there with me, Mynheer Henry, Mynheer Paul, Mynheer the Wise Solomon, Mynheer the Silent Tom, and Mynheer the Very Long James. I see it clearly. I, a man of peace, am always being pushed in to war.”
“We hope it will come true,” said the five together.
“Do you go back to Kentucky?” asked William Gray.
“No,” replied Henry, speaking for them all, “we have entered upon this task here, and we are going to stay in it until it is finished.”
“It is dangerous, the most dangerous thing in the world,” said Heemskerk. “I still have my foreknowledge that I shall stand by your side in some great battle to come, but the first thing I shall do when I see you again, my friends, is to look around at you, one, two, three, four, five, and see if you have upon your heads the hair which is now so rich, thick, and flowing.”
“Never fear, my friend,” said Henry, “we have fought with the warriors all the way from the Susquehanna to New Orleans and not one of us has lost a single lock of hair.”
“It is one Dutchman's hope that it will always be so,” said Heemskerk, and then he revolved rapidly away lest they see his face express emotion.
The five received great supplies of powder and bullets from Colonel Butler, and then they parted in the forest. Many of the soldiers looked back and saw the five tall figures in a line, leaning upon the muzzles of their long-barreled Kentucky rifles, and regarding them in silence. It seemed to the soldiers that they had left behind them the true sons of the wilderness, who, in spite of all dangers, would be there to welcome them when they returned.
CHAPTER XVII. THE DESERTED CABIN
When the last soldier had disappeared among the trees, Henry turned to the others. “Well, boys,” he asked, “what are you thinking about?”
“I?” asked Paul. “I'm thinking about a certain place I know, a sort of alcove or hole in a cliff above a lake.”
“An' me?” said Shif'less Sol. “I'm thinkin' how fur that alcove runs back, an' how it could be fitted up with furs an' made warm fur the winter.”
“Me?” said Tom Ross. “I'm thinkin' what a snug place that alcove would be when the snow an' hail were drivin' down the creek in front of you.”
“An' ez fur me,” said Long Jim Hart, “I wuz thinkin' I could run a sort uv flue from the back part uv that alcove out through the front an' let the smoke pass out. I could cook all right. It wouldn't be ez good a place fur cookin' ez the one we hed that time we spent the winter on the island in the lake, but 'twould serve.”
“It's strange,” said Henry, “but I've been thinking of all the things that all four of you have been thinking about, and, since we are agreed, we are bound to go straight to 'The Alcove' and pass the winter there.”
Without another word he led the way, and the others followed. It was apparent to everyone that they must soon find a winter base, because the cold had increased greatly in the last few days. The last leaves had fallen from the trees, and a searching wind howled among the bare branches. Better shelter than blankets would soon be needed.
On their way they passed Oghwaga, a mass of blackened ruins, among which wolves howled, the same spectacle that Wyoming now afforded, although Oghwaga had not been stained by blood.
It was a long journey to “The Alcove,” but they did not hurry, seeing no need of it, although they were warned of the wisdom of their decision by the fact that the cold was increasing. The country in which the lake was situated lay high, and, as all of them were quite sure that the cold was going to be great there, they thought it wise to make preparations against it, which they discussed as they walked in, leisurely fashion through the woods. They spoke, also, of greater things. All felt that they had been drawn into a mightier current than any in which they had swam before. They fully appreciated the importance to the Revolution of this great rearguard struggle, and at present they did not have the remotest idea of returning to Kentucky under any circumstances.
“We've got to fight it out with Braxton Wyatt and the Iroquois,” said Henry. “I've heard that Braxton is organizing a band of Tories of his own, and that he is likely to be as dangerous as either of the Butlers.”
“Some day we'll end him for good an' all,” said Shif'less Sol.
It was four or five days before they reached their alcove, and now all the forest was bare and apparently lifeless. They came down the creek, and found their boat unharmed and untouched still among the foliage at the base of the cliff.
“That's one thing safe,” said Long Jim, “an' I guess we'll find 'The Alcove' all right, too.”
“Unless a wild animal has taken up its abode there,” said Paul.
“'Tain't likely,” replied Long Jim. “We've left the human smell thar, an' even after all this
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