Marching on Niagara: or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier
"If the Kinotah is as good as this I wouldn't want anything better," replied Henry.
The batteau, of extra-large size, was filled with baggage, and besides the boys there were ten rangers on board, including old Campwell. The old man sat in the rear of the craft, eyeing the shore critically.
"My eyesight ain't none o' the best," he drawled, presently. "But onless I'm in error, I jest see a number o' Injuns behind yonder skirt o' bushes."
All looked in the direction, and presently one of the other rangers said that he, too, saw at least two Indians. They appeared to be following up the boats and at the same time did all they could to keep hidden.
"What do you make of that?" asked Henry of Barringford, who was pulling an oar beside him.
The old frontiersman shrugged his shoulders. "Depends on whether they are friends or enemies, Henry," he said. "If they are friends more'n likely they'll jine us when we reach the river."
"And if not?"
"Then they ought to be captured, for if they ain't friends they are spying for the French."
Evidently the Indians had not been discovered by those on the other batteaux, and after a short talk the man in charge of that containing our friends decided to report the case to his superior, in a boat some distance ahead. Pulling with all strength, the clumsy craft was, in quarter of an hour, brought alongside of Captain Mollett's boat.
"Indians, eh?" said the captain, reflectively. "Couldn't make them out very well, could you?"
"No, captain."
"Hum! We'll have to investigate this."
Word was passed to several other batteaux, and soon after a boat turned toward shore, having on board fifteen rangers, including Barringford and Henry. Dave and Schnitzer wished to accompany the others but this was not permitted.
"Good-by until we meet again!" cried Henry, on leaving.
"Take good care of yourself," returned Dave, and so with a wave of the hand the two cousins parted.
It did not take the batteau long to reach the north shore of the lake, and as soon as the craft grounded all leaped out. Fastening the boat to a nearby tree, the rangers set out on a search for the Indians.
The party was under the command of George Harvey, well known as an old Indian fighter of the Mohawk valley and a man who was as shrewd as he was daring. He had brought the rangers ashore boldly, but once in the shelter of the timber he halted his men to give them advice.
"We'll spread out in a straight line, due north," he said. "Each man about thirty yards from the next. Then we can beat up the timber thoroughly. Don't fire until you're sure of what you are doing, for to kill a friendly Indian just now would be the worst thing we could do. General Johnson would never forgive you for it. He had hard enough work to make 'em come over to us."
It fell to Henry's lot to skirt the shore of the lake, with Barringford next to him. The way was easy where the trail ran close to the water, but at other points was exceedingly difficult, for big stones and thick brushwood frequently blocked his progress.
"Phew! but this is no child's play!" he muttered to himself, as he came out on a point of the shore where the sun blazed down fiercely. "A fellow couldn't feel any hotter plowing corn or turning hay. I'd rather go swimming than hunt up Indians, I must confess."
His soliloquy was broken by the flitting of something from one tree to another, some distance ahead. The movement was so rapid, and the distance so great, that he could not settle in his mind what the object had been.
"Was that an Indian, or some big wild bird?" he asked himself. Drawing back into the shelter of some bushes he held his gun ready for use, and gazed ahead with much interest.
The sun was now well down in the west, so his shadow fell in front of him as he gazed eastward. Of a sudden another shadow loomed up beside his own. He turned, but before he could defend himself, he was hauled back and his gun was wrenched from his grasp. He tried to cry out, but a red hand was instantly clapped over his mouth.
Henry tried his best to free himself but it was useless. Two brawny warriors had attacked him, and now one of the redmen flourished a long hunting knife in his face, at the same time muttering some words of warning in a guttural tone. Henry did not understand the language spoken, but he knew what was meant – that he would be killed if he attempted to either fight or cry out – and so for the time being he lay still.
At a distance the young soldier heard the sounds of footsteps, and he rightfully surmised that Barringford was continuing his journey forward, with the rest of the rangers. Soon the sounds died away and all became as silent as the grave.
But the Indians did not wish to take any chances and so the one with the knife continued to stand over the young soldier until his companion was certain the whites had gone on. Then he emitted a short and peculiar bird-like whistle.
In less than two minutes fully a dozen warriors appeared on the scene, crawling from behind logs and rocks and from holes among the tree roots. All came forward and gazed curiously at the prisoner.
A parley lasting but a few minutes followed. Henry tried his best to make out what was said, but this Indian dialect was entirely new to him. He half suspected that these redmen had come down into New York from the north shore of Lake Ontario and in this he was not mistaken. They were spies, as it was long afterward proved, sent out by Saint Luc de la Corne, the French officer in command at Isle Royal, afterward called Chimney Island.
The coming ashore of the English had evidently disconcerted the Indians and they hesitated over what should be their next move. But at last they set off on a rapid march northward, taking Henry with them. The young soldier's hands were bound behind him and he was given to understand that if he did not move along as suited them he would be killed on the spot.
"A nice pickle I'm in and no mistake," he mused, as the party toiled up a long hill and through a dense patch of timber where the undergrowth almost barred all progress. "These redskins won't give me the slightest chance to get away, and where they are taking me is more than I can guess. Wonder what Barringford will say when he finds I am missing?"
Some time after this a distant shot sounded out, at which all of the Indians came to a halt. The shot was followed by several others, all coming from the direction of the lake.
"Perhaps they are signals meant for me," thought Henry. "Oh, if only Barringford and the others strike the right trail!"
The shots having come to an end, the forward march was resumed, and the party did not halt again until long after nightfall. Henry was bound to a tree and one of the Indians, who seemed less bloodthirsty than the others, gave him a bit of meat, some corn cakes, and a drink of water. The young soldier thanked the redskin and tried to engage him in conversation, but the Indian merely shook his head and walked away.
When the Indians retired for the night Henry was tied to a short stake driven deeply into the ground. This allowed him to rest on one side or the other, but still kept his hands behind him – a most uncomfortable position. But lying down, even like that, was better than standing against the tree, and he was so tired he was soon fast asleep.
A kick in the ribs awoke him at early daybreak, and after a light breakfast, the Indians resumed their journey. In a short time they gained a small stream, and from a hiding place brought forth several canoes. Henry was made to enter one of the canoes and the whole party began to paddle down the stream swiftly and in the utmost silence.
The watercourse was less than five yards wide and in many places the branches of the trees on the opposite banks intertwined, forming a long, low bower, beneath which the sunlight was hardly able to penetrate. Outside it was hot and dry, but on this stream it was deliciously cool, and under other circumstances Henry would have enjoyed the canoe trip greatly. Game was plentiful and frequently popped up within easy shooting distance. The Indians did not use their guns, however, although a number of birds and a deer were brought down by the aid of a bow and arrows in the hands of an Indian in the front canoe.
Before the trip on the river came to an end Henry calculated that they had covered at least sixteen miles. They went ashore just above a small water-fall and now the Indians took their canoes with them. The party turned westward, and Henry guessed that they were bound for the eastern shore of Lake Ontario.
"If they once get me on the lake I'll be booked for Canada, that's certain," he mused, dismally. "If only I had half a chance I'd run for it, even though I'd risk being shot."
CHAPTER XXV
A STORM ON LAKE ONTARIO
When the soldiers under General Prideaux reached Oswego they found the fort in ruins. Three years before the French and Indians under Montcalm had won a victory there and before leaving had burnt up and otherwise destroyed every building, large and small, and also every ship in the harbor, and had taken away all the guns and ammunition and a large part of the possessions of the settlers in that vicinity. On every side were heaps of ashes and charred logs, some overgrown with weeds, and in the midst of these stood a huge wooden cross, erected by Piquet, the French priest, and on a tall pole hung the tattered arms of France. The scene was one of unutterable loneliness and desolation, and it must be confessed that something like a shiver went over Dave as he gazed upon it.
"This shows what war will do," he said, to a comrade standing near. "Think of how prosperous a trading post Oswego was three years ago, and now look at this. Why even a wild animal would shun the spot – after those skeletons were picked clean."
"True for you, lad," was the answer. "But I don't think it will be that way again. General Prideaux means business, and so does General Johnson, and the French will have to do some tall fighting to win out now."
The first of the soldiers arrived on the site of Oswego about the middle of June, and it was only a few days later the remainder of the army came up from Lake Oneida bringing the stores and baggage, including a great many barrels of pork, which in those days formed a staple article of soldiers' diet.
Dave was anxious to see Henry and Barringford again, and when the last of the soldiers came up and went into camp not far from the lake and the river, he hurried in that direction as soon as he was off duty.
"Oh, Sam!" he cried, when he caught sight of the old frontiersman and saw the serious look on his face. "Where's Henry?"
"I can't tell you, Dave."
"Can't tell?"
"No, lad. After we went ashore at Lake Oneida he disappeared like as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up."
"But – but didn't you look for him?"
"Dave you oughter know better nor to ask sech a question. Look? Why, I tramped miles an' miles a-looking fer him, – an' fer them Injuns. But the redskins got away, and we couldn't find Henry, alive or dead."
"Then they must have taken him prisoner."
"Thet's it, unless – "
"Unless what, Sam?"
"Wall, I don't like to say, lad. Let us hope fer the best."
"You mean they might have killed him and thrown his body into the lake?"
"Yes."
Dave drew a long breath. The thought was a horrible one. He shook his head dismally.
"You didn't hear any shots, or any struggling?"
"Nary a sound, Dave. We went along as silently as ghosts and with our ears wide open. I know Henry was along when we moved up the lake, but I missed him jest as soon as we turned to come back. He had been next to the lake front and I walked over to find out if he had seen anything of the Injuns. But he was gone – and that was the end of it – although I and the others hunted around until we simply had to give it up and come back to report."
It was dismal news, and all Barringford could do did not cheer Dave up. "First it was little Nell and now it's Henry," he said, soberly. "If neither of them return what will Aunt Lucy say?"
As soon as the army was settled at Oswego General Prideaux had all of the batteaux and other boats made ready for the trip along the lake shore to Fort Niagara, a distance of about a hundred and thirty miles. In the meantime Colonel Haldimand was placed in charge of the garrison to be left at Oswego, with orders to rebuild the fort, and otherwise strengthen the place, as speedily as possible. Haldimand, who during the Revolution became Governor of Canada, was an able and energetic officer, and went about the work assigned to him without delay. Soon the ring of the axe was heard in the forest and the big timbers for the new fort were being brought out as fast as the pioneer-soldiers could handle them.
Prideaux had expected to embark for Niagara within a few days after reaching Oswego where he was joined by Johnson with his seven hundred Indians, but numerous delays occurred and it was not until the first of July that his novel flotilla of boats, batteaux, and canoes set sail westward over the mighty waters of Lake Ontario. All the time that the army was at Oswego a sharp lookout was kept for the possible appearance of French ships of war, or of transports carrying French troops, but none came in sight.
"Not a sail in sight anywhere," said Dave to Schnitzer one day, when the two were at the beach. "If the French are near they are keeping themselves well hidden."
"Maybe da vos vaiting for a chanct to cotch us nabbing," answered the Dutch soldier. "Dose Frenchers peen mighty schmart let me tole you. Of da don't vos schmart den dis var vouldn't peen so long vinded, hey?"
"Oh, they know what they are doing, no doubt of that. I wouldn't be surprised if they attacked Colonel Haldimand after we go away."
"Yah, dot is it, Tave – da vaits bis ve peen sphlit by two bieces und den da fights first one bard und den der udder bard – und ve peen licked our poots out, hey – maybe – of da peen schmart enough." And Hans Schnitzer nodded his shaggy head vigorously.
Dave had been wondering if he would be ordered to remain behind with those left at Oswego or if he was to go forward to Fort Niagara. He half wished he would be told to remain behind, that he might have a chance to go in search of Henry.
But this was not to be, and a few days later came word that the company to which he belonged would go forward under General Prideaux.
"But I'm a-going to be left behind," said Sam Barringford. "I've got orders to take charge o' the sharpshooters as is going to watch out here while Colonel Haldimand rebuilds the old fort."
"Oh Sam, if you stay behind, won't you keep an eye open for Henry?"
"To be sure I will, lad – thought o' thet myself."
"Do you think those Indians are still sneaking around?"
"More'n likely not, Dave. Not if they war French spies. They've gone across the lake to give warning of our coming."
"If they had Henry a prisoner they would take him along."
"Yes, – or worse."
Dave shook his head sadly, and went about his work, which was to see to the loading of two batteaux, that were piled high with utensils belonging to the culinary department of the army – for soldiers, like ordinary mortals, must eat and if they are not served properly there is apt to be a good deal of grumbling.
One day later the army was off, in a long string of batteaux and other craft stretching out a distance of over a mile. It was truly an imposing sight, for the leading batteau was flying the flag of England, and other banners were by no means lacking. There was music, too, to lighten up the hearts of the soldiers, and ringing cheers for good luck to the enterprise.
It was General Prideaux's plan to hug the shore of the lake, consequently the trip would be a little longer than if they sailed in a direct line from Oswego to what is now the coast town of Carlton. The reason for hugging the shore was, that the French might swoop down upon the flotilla at any moment when out of sight of land, whereas, if the English kept close to shore, they could at any moment turn into one of the numerous bays or creeks, and there hide or throw up a temporary defense.
The southern shore of Lake Ontario is to-day dotted with villages and towns, but when General Prideaux's army sailed along this coast it showed an almost unbroken front of gigantic timber, rough rocks and stretches of sandy waste. Here and there was an Indian village, but the warriors were away, either with the French or the English.
Much to Dave's disgust Lieutenant Naster was placed in charge of the batteau, which contained besides Dave several soldiers who were hardly known to our young soldier. When Naster saw Dave, he scowled but said nothing.
"He has it in for me, that's certain," thought Dave. "I'll have to keep my eyes wide open."
"I want none of your laziness," said the lieutenant, to Dave, an hour later, and when all hands were resting on the oars. "I see you are not pulling as well as the others, and it won't do."
"I thought I was doing my full share," answered Dave.
"Hi don't answer back, boy! Do as I tell you!"
In a few minutes the rowing was resumed. One of the soldiers, unnoticed by the lieutenant, winked at Dave.
"He's a regular bear," he whispered. "Look out, or he'll make trouble for you."
"He's tried to make trouble for me before," answered Dave, in an equally low tone. "He doesn't like me because I stood up for old Campwell when he was browbeating the man."
"Oh, so you were the soldier who interfered, eh? I heard of that case. They say – "
"Silence over here, and attend to your rowing!" shouted the lieutenant from his comfortable seat in the stern. "Don't you see how we are lagging behind? Pull up there, all of you, or somebody will get the lash to-night, instead of his supper."
After that but little was said, and the rowing continued steadily until noon, when a brief halt was made for dinner. The lake was almost like glass, so that while some of the batteaux drifted together, no damage was done.
"If I know anything about it, this weather won't last," said one of the soldiers, after a careful survey of the sky.
"It looks like a storm to me, too," said Dave. "But it may blow around before it reaches here."
Yet the day passed without the storm coming, and that night the occupants of the batteaux slept soundly on the shore of a tiny bay opening up from the lake. At sunrise the army was again in motion and once again the flotilla continued its journey westward.
Several soldiers who had been taken sick on the march to Oswego had been left behind, but now others were overcome by the heat and the glare of the sun on the water, and one batteau had to be turned into a floating hospital. At one time Dave himself felt dizzy, but he said nothing, for he well knew that Lieutenant Naster would have no mercy on him, sick or well.
The sun had come up over the water like a great ball of fire and by nine o'clock the day promised to prove more than usually hot. But an hour later the clouds began to show up in the west and it became rapidly cooler.
"We're in for that storm now," said a soldier to Dave. "See how the wind is rising."
"Yes, and we are pretty far out from land now, too," added Dave. "I reckon we ought to turn in."
One of the soldiers appealed to the lieutenant, but he would not listen to advice. "Straight ahead," he roared. "You only want to go in that you may rest. We have no time to fool away. A little rain won't hurt anybody."
The wind rapidly increased in violence, and soon the black clouds overshadowed the sun, making the surface of the lake dark and ominous looking. Then came a gust that whirled the batteau around in spite of all the rowers could do to keep the craft up to the wind. The waves dashed up, drenching everybody.
"Oh!" cried Lieutenant Naster, for he had received some of the water full in the face. "Steady there, you fools! Don't let her swing around!"
"If we don't pull to shore we'll be swamped!" cried one of the soldiers. "I was a sailor for six years and I know this is going to be a big blow. Give the order, lieutenant, unless ye want to see bottom putty quick."
At these words Lieutenant Naster turned pale. "Very well, turn about and pull for the shore," he said. "And don't lose time," he added, as he saw the white caps chasing madly toward them.
With much difficulty the clumsy batteau was swung around and the journey shoreward began. But valuable time had been lost, and now the rain came down in a deluge, shutting out the view on every side. The wind whistled a gale and in the midst of the downpour came a vivid flash of lightning and a crack of thunder that was deafening.
As much for his own safety as for the others, Dave bent to his oar with a will, pulling with might and main. The sight of land was now shut out and the task was therefore a blind one. On they went, the wind blowing the waves into the batteau until the craft was speedily in danger of becoming waterlogged.
"Bail her out!" roared the lieutenant, who was now as much alarmed as anyone. "Bail her out, or we'll go to the bottom!"
"Bail her out yourself;" came a voice from the front of the craft. "None of us can leave the oars. Pull away, boys, – it's our only chance!"
It was the man who had been a sailor who spoke, and all the other soldiers obeyed him, leaving the lieutenant to take up an iron dipper and begin the bailing as best he could.
A moment later came a wild cry from beyond the batteau. "Look out, you are running into us! Back water!" The cry was followed by a thump and a crash and half a dozen yells of pain, and then ensued a wild scramble for safety, for two of the batteaux had come together with such force that the bottom of each was broken away on one side, letting in the lake water with a rush.
When the collision came Dave was thrown over backward, into the lap of the soldier who had once been a sailor. Each clutched the other, and both struggled to their feet wondering what would happen next. Then the batteau began to settle and in a moment more Dave found himself struggling in the waters of Lake Ontario.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE ATTACK AT OSWEGO
"I wonder when this will end?"
Such was the question which Henry asked himself, after he had been a prisoner of the Indians for a week and more.
The warriors had marched him to the eastern shore of the lake, and here he had been left in charge of two young warriors while the balance of the party had taken canoes and disappeared in the direction of Frontenac.
The days had passed slowly. The warriors had found something of a cave fronting the lake shore and Henry had been placed in this. His hands were bound behind him almost constantly, they being released only when he was eating or when both of his captors were at hand with their guns to watch him.
The young soldier often wondered what had become of Sam Barringford and the others who had been in the party that had landed on the shore of Lake Oneida. Had they too been captured and carried off, or had they been killed?
"Sam ought to have been able to follow their trail," he reasoned. He did not know that the trail had been followed as far as the stream where the Indians had first brought forth their hidden canoes.
In the meantime the Indians had gone to Saint Luc de la Corne and explained the situation to him. The French commander at once gathered together twelve hundred men, consisting of Canadian pioneers and Indians, and set out to do the English battle. He felt that a force would be left behind at Oswego and this he determined to annihilate as soon as General Prideaux had gone on with the main portion of the English army.
The coming of over a hundred Indians to the camp on the lake front surprised Henry and he wondered what was in the wind. But he soon found out, for several of the newcomers could talk English and they did not hesitate to speak of the contemplated attack on Colonel Haldimand's command, and of their high hopes of again laying Fort Oswego in ashes and scalping all who should remain to defend it.
After hearing this talk Henry burnt with a desire to obtain his freedom and warn Haldimand of what was coming. For this purpose he resorted to a ruse which worked better than he anticipated. He pretended to be very sick and whenever the Indians came near groaned dismally and put his hand to his head and then to his breast as if in intense pain.
