the wild howlings and wailings which he thought it was certain Billy
would set up when he found he could not go. George therefore thought it
well as they trotted along to make Billy ride up with him, and describe
all the anticipated hardships of the coming journey. He did not soften
one line in the picture, and enlarged particularly upon the scarcity of
food, and the chances of starving in the wilderness, or being scalped
and roasted by Indians. Billy's countenance during this was a study.
Between his devotion to George and his terror of the impending
expedition Billy was in torment, and when at last George told him he
must remain either at Mount Vernon or Ferry Farm, Billy did not know
whether to howl or to grin.
George reached Fredericksburg that night, and went immediately to
Captain Vanbraam's house. The Dutchman, a stout, middle-aged man, yet of
a soldierly appearance, at once agreed to go, and, in the few hours
necessary for his preparations George took the opportunity of crossing
the river and spending the night with his mother and sister and brothers
at Ferry Farm. His mother was full of fear for him, but she realized
that this brave and gifted son was no longer solely hers--his country
had need of him as soon as he came of age. Next morning Betty went with
him across the river, and bade him good-by with the smiling lips and
tear-filled eyes that always marked her farewells with George, her best
beloved. Billy wept vociferously, but was secretly much relieved at
being left behind. Four days afterwards George and Captain Vanbraam
reached Greenway Court, having sent an express on the way to Gist and
Davidson, who lived on the Great North Mountain.
When George burst into Lord Fairfax's library one night about dusk the
Earl knew not whether to be most delighted or surprised. He immediately
began to tell the Earl of his forth-coming plan, thanking him at the
same time for procuring him such preferment. "And I assure you, sir," he
said, with sparkling eyes, "although at first I felt a strange sinking
of the heart, and was appalled at the idea that I was unequal to the
task, as soon as the command was laid upon me I felt my spirits rise
and my fears disappear. If I succeed I shall be very happy, and if I
fail the world will say I was but a boy, after all. Why did his
Excellency send an inexperienced young man on such an errand? But I
shall certainly do my best."
"Angels can do no more," the Earl quoted.
George's eagerness and his boyish enthusiasm pleased the Earl, who had
no taste for solemn youngsters; and he listened, smiling, as George
poured forth his hopes, plans, and aspirations. When he spoke of the
additional men to be taken, Lord Fairfax said:
"I know of two capable ones. Black Bear would make an excellent Indian
interpreter, and Lance would be the very man to note the French
fortifications. He has as good a military eye as I ever knew."
George gasped with delight.
"Do you mean, sir," he cried, "that you will really let me have Lance?"
"Go and ask him."
The young Major, who had impressed the Governor and councillors with his
gravity and dignity, now jumped up and ran to the armory, bawling
"Lance! Lance!" at the top of a pair of powerful lungs. Lance promptly
appeared, and in three words George told him the plan. Old Lance nearly
wrung George's hand off at the news.
"Well, sir, it makes me feel nigh thirty years younger to be going among
the mounseers again. Maybe you think, sir, I never saw a French fort;
but I tell you, sir, I have seen more French forts, ay, and been at the
taking too, than they have between here and Canada."
Black Bear was across the mountain, but a messenger was sent at once for
him, and he was told to bring another trusty Indian along. Within two
days from reaching Greenway Court the party was ready to start. Lord
Fairfax saw George set off, in high health and spirits, and full of
restrained enthusiasm. He wore the buckskin shirt and leggings of a
huntsman to make the journey in, but in his saddle-bags was a fine new
Major's uniform of the provincial army, and he carried the rapier given
him many years before by Lord Fairfax.
Seven days' hard travelling, at the beginning of the wintry season,
brought the party to Logstown, not far from what is now Pittsburg. The
journey had been hard, snow having fallen early, and, the fords being
swollen, the party were obliged to swim their horses across the mountain
streams. But George had not found time heavy on his hands. Captain
Vanbraam and Lance discovered that they had served in different
campaigns in the same region, and, without forgetting the status between
an officer and a private soldier, they were extremely good comrades,
much to George's delight.
On their arrival at Logstown, Black Bear at once went in search of his
father, the great chief of one of the Six Nations, and the other chiefs
were assembled in the course of a day or two. George found them much
incensed against the French, but, like all their tribe, before they
could act they had to have many meetings and a great oratorical display.
George, who loved not speech-making, made them but one brief address,
and by using all his powers managed to get Tanacharison and
representatives of the other tribes off, and in a few days more they
arrived at a French outpost. It was merely a log house with the French
colors flying over it. George, waiting until dusk, and leaving his
Indian allies out of sight, taking only with him Vanbraam and Lance, as
his servant, rode up to the door and knocked. Three French officers
appeared, and on seeing two gentlemen in uniform, the senior, Captain
Joncaire, civilly asked them, in broken English, to alight and sup with
them.
George, with equal politeness, told them that he was the bearer of a
letter to M. de St.-Pierre, the commandant at the French fort farther
up, but would be pleased to accept their hospitality.
Inside the house was quite comfortable, and the party, except Lance, who
waited on the table, soon sat down to supper. As George had frankly
informed them of his mission, it behooved them to be prudent, and so
they were until the wine began to flow. Captain Vanbraam had not thought
it his duty to let on that he understood French, and the conversation
had been conducted in such English as the French could command. George,
although he could not speak French, could understand it a little,
especially with the help of the abundant gestures the French used.
He had always had a contempt for men who "put an enemy in their mouths
to steal away their brains," and the spectacle soon presented by the
French officers made him vow inwardly that never, so long as he lived,
would he put himself in the condition they were then in. These men,
brave and otherwise discreet, passed the bottle so often that they soon
lost all sense of prudence, and, turning from broken English to French,
told things in regard to their military plans which they would rather
have died than betray. Captain Joncaire, forgetting, in his maudlin
state, that George had said he did not understand French well, turned to
him and said, in French:
"Ah, you English mean to drive us out. Well, let me tell you we are not
to be driven out. We expect to go to war with your country soon, and
this is a good place to begin. We know that you can raise two men to our
one, but you have a dilatory, foolish Governor in Virginia, and he will
let us overrun the country before he does anything to stop us."
As he kept on, giving information about his people that he should never
have done, and which George partly understood, such keen contempt came
into George's eyes that a gleam of soberness returned to Captain
Joncaire, and for a few minutes he said no more. But "when the wine is
in the wit is out," and the Frenchmen continued to talk in the foolish
manner which awaits the wisest man when he makes a beast of himself with
liquor.
At ten o'clock George and Captain Vanbraam had to tear themselves away
from the Frenchmen, who, drunker than ever, tried to hold them back by
embracing them.
As they made their way back to their camp Captain Vanbraam repeated
every word the drunken officers had said. George spoke little. The
spectacle was not only disgusting but painful to him.
Next morning, early, Captain Joncaire sought out their camp, and
professed great surprise at seeing the Indians, whom he declared to be
his friends. He invited them to the house, where George well knew there
would be liquor and cajolery in plenty for them.
"My dear Major Washington," cried Joncaire, after a while, and coloring
slightly as he spoke, "I am afraid you had us at a disadvantage last
night. We talked rather wildly, I fancy, but don't put too much
confidence in what we said when the wine was flowing."
"I am compelled to put confidence in what Captain Joncaire and his
officers say, drunk or sober," was George's reply, delivered not without
sarcasm, at which Captain Joncaire winced. The Frenchmen invited the
Indians to their post, and George had the mortification of seeing them
all carried off, except Tanacharison and his son Black Bear; and when,
in the evening, he sent for the chiefs, they returned to him stupidly
drunk and loaded with presents from the French.
"We must get them away as soon as possible," said George to his white
followers and his two faithful Indians. Tanacharison, a venerable old
chief and a man of great eloquence, watched the Indians in their drunken
sleep, and when they wakened, although it was near sun-down, so worked
upon them by a speech he made them, that they agreed to leave with the
rest of the party. George and Captain Vanbraam went to the French post
to bid the officers a polite farewell.
Captain Joncaire said many civil things to them, and sent them a
handsome present of provisions, but was evidently chagrined at the
Indians being carried off under his very nose.
Eleven days more of travelling through intense cold, with the snow deep
on the ground, brought the party to Fort Le Boeuf, on French Creek,
about fifteen miles from Lake Erie. This was commanded by M. Legardeur
de St.-Pierre, an old French officer of great ability, and a chevalier
of the military order of St. Louis.
The party reached the fort late in the evening, and found it a stout
place, well adapted for defence. George rode up to the gate--his horse
now a sorry-looking creature--and asked to be conducted to the
commandant. As soon as the message was delivered M. de St.-Pierre came
out in person, and, receiving the letter from the Governor of Virginia
with great respect, raising his hat in taking it, invited Major
Washington's party in.
Although strictly attending to the commandant's conversation, George
used his keen eyes to the utmost advantage, and he felt sure that Lance
was doing the same thing. There were over a hundred soldiers in the
fort, and not less than thirty officers.
George and his party were led through a court-yard, around which were
barracks and officers' quarters, protected by bastions well provided
with artillery. Arrived at the commandant's quarters, M. de St.-Pierre
said, courteously, in English,
"When you and your party have refreshed yourselves for a day or two,
Major Washington, we will discuss the matters contained in the
Governor's letter."
Now this was just what George did not desire. He knew that every
artifice would be practised on his Indian allies to win them to the
French, as Captain Joncaire had done, with much greater prospect of
success. How would he persuade them to leave the good food, the
seductive liquor, and the presents that he felt sure the French were
ready to shower upon them? His only dependence was upon Tanacharison and
Black Bear. How often did he rejoice inwardly over that bucket of water
he had given to Black Bear the night of the attack at Greenway Court,
six years before! His reply, therefore, to the French commandant was
polite but positive:
"I thank you, sir, for your kindness, but I am ready at this moment to
proceed to the consideration of his Excellency's letter."
This slightly disconcerted M. de St.-Pierre, who had some inward
contempt for the youth of the ambassador sent by the Governor.
"I shall have to send for my second in command, Captain Reparti," he
said, "who left us this morning to visit another post."
"I hope, monsieur, that you will send for him at your earliest
convenience, for my orders are peremptory--to deliver the letter and
return with an answer at the earliest possible moment."
"If I send this evening," remarked M. de St.-Pierre, "my messenger might
lose his way in the darkness."
"If you will kindly give me the directions, sir," answered George, with
much politeness, "I have men in my party who can make the journey by
night, although they have never traversed this part of the country
before."
"I will send, however, immediately," said M. de St.-Pierre, coloring
slightly, and comprehending that he was dealing with a natural
diplomatist.
After a very agreeable dinner George was shown to his room, where Lance,
as his servant, awaited him. Scarcely was the door closed before George
began, anxiously,
"Where are the Indians?"
"In the barrack-room, sir. The French soldiers are promising them guns
and powder and shot and hatchets, and pouring liquor down all of them
except Tanacharison and Black Bear, who won't drink, and who mean to be
true to us. But, sir, you can't blame the poor devils for taking what
the French give them."
"We must get away from here as soon as possible," cried George. "What
have you noticed in the fort, Lance?"
"That it's mighty well made, sir; the mounseers are fine engineers, and
they know how to build a fort. They have eight six-pounders mounted in
the bastions, and a four-pounder at the gate-house. But they have got a
lot more places pierced for guns, and you may depend upon it, sir, they
have a-plenty more guns than they choose to show stowed away somewhere."
Next morning, Captain Reparti having arrived, M. de St.-Pierre and his
officers considered the Governor's letter privately, and then, admitting
George, with his interpreter, Captain Vanbraam, an answer was dictated
denying the right of the English to any part of the country watered by
the Ohio River. This was an important and dangerous announcement, and
although not a word was said about war, yet every man present knew that
if this contention were maintained England and France must fight, and
the country must be drenched with blood. George, with perfect composure,
received the letter, and, rising, said:
"My mission, sir, is accomplished. I have delivered the Governor's
letter, and your reply, M. de St.-Pierre, shall be conveyed not only to
the Governor, but to his Britannic Majesty. I am now ready to take my
leave."
"Do not be in so great a hurry to leave us, Major Washington," said M.
de St.-Pierre, suavely. "Some of my young officers promised a few guns
to your Indian allies, by way of making them satisfied to remain during
our negotiation, which I thought would be longer, and the guns cannot
arrive until to-morrow morning."
As George knew the impossibility of getting the Indians off without the
guns, he consented with the utmost readiness to remain; but he would
have given half his fortune to have got off.
The day was one of intense nervous strain on him. His sole dependence in
managing the Indians were Tanacharison and Black Bear. And what if they
should betray him? But at night the old chief and his son came to him
and promised most solemnly to get the chiefs away as soon as the guns
should arrive in the morning. George had a luxurious bed in his rude
though comfortable quarters, but he slept not one wink that night. By
daylight he was up. Soon after Lance sidled up to him in the court-yard,
and said,
"Sir, the guns have come--I saw them myself; but the Frenchies will not
say a word about it unless they are asked."
Just then M. de St.-Pierre, wrapped in a great surtout, appeared, coming
out of his quarters.
"Good-morning, Major Washington!" he cried.
"Good-morning, M. de St.-Pierre!" replied George, gayly. "I must give
orders to my party for an early start, as the guns you promised the
Indians have arrived, and I have no further excuse for remaining."
"Sacre bleu!" burst out M. de St.-Pierre; "I did not expect the guns so
soon!" At which he looked into George's eyes, and suddenly both burst
out laughing. The Frenchman saw that his _ruse_ was understood.
The party were soon collected, and after a hearty breakfast George took
his leave, and, much to the chagrin of the French, succeeded in carrying
off all his Indian allies with him. They rapidly retraced their road,
and when they made their first halt, ten miles from Fort Le Boeuf,
George exclaimed, aside to Lance,
"This is the first easy moment I have known for twenty-four hours."
"'Tis the first I have had, sir, since we got to the first post,
fourteen days ago!"
It was now the latter part of December. The horses, gaunt and starved,
were no longer fit for riding, and George set the example of dismounting
and going on foot. Their progress with so large a party was not rapid,
and George determined to leave Captain Vanbraam, with the horses and
provisions, to follow, while he, in his health and strength, set off at
a more rapid gait, in order that he might reach Williamsburg with M. de
St.-Pierre's defiant letter as soon as possible. Lance, with his
experience as a foot-soldier, easily proved his superiority when they
were reduced to walking, so George chose him as a companion. Christmas
day was spent in a long, hard march, and on the next day George,
dressing himself in his buckskin shirt and leggings, with his gun and
valuable papers, and giving most of the money for the expedition to
Captain Vanbraam, struck off with Lance for a more rapid progress.
The two walked steadily all day, and covered almost twice as much ground
as the party following them. At night, with their flints, they struck a
roaring fire in the forest, and took turns in watching and sleeping. By
daylight they were again afoot.
"I never saw such a good pair of legs as you have, sir, in all my life,"
said Lance, on this day, as they trudged along. "My regiment was counted
to have the best legs for steady work in all the Duke of Marlborough's
army, and mine were considered the best pair in the regiment, but you
put me to my trumps."
"Perhaps if you were as young as I you would put me to _my_ trumps,
for--"
[Illustration: WITH A SPRING, GEORGE HAD THE SAVAGE BY THE THROAT.]
At this moment a shot rang out on the frozen air, and a bullet made a
clean hole through George's buckskin cap. One glance showed him an
Indian crouching in the brushwood. With a spring as quick and sure as a
panther's, George had the savage by the throat, and wrenched the
firelock, still smoking, from his hand. Behind him half a dozen Indian
figures were seen stealing off through the trees. Lance walked up, and
raising a hatchet over the Indian's head, said, coolly,
"Mr. Washington, we must kill him as we would a snake."
"No," replied George, "I will not have him killed."[2]
[2] Washington, in his journal, speaks of the Indian firing at him at
short range, but says nothing of his preventing his companion from
killing the would-be murderer. But his companion expressly says that he
would have killed the Indian on the spot had not Washington forbidden
him. The Indians became very superstitious about Washington's immunity
from bullets, especially after Braddock's defeat. In that battle he was
the target for the best marksmen among them, and not only escaped
without a scratch, although two horses were killed under him and his
clothes riddled with bullets, but he was the only officer of Braddock's
military family who survived.
The Indian, standing perfectly erect and apparently unconcerned,
understood well enough that the question of his life or death was under
discussion, but with a more than Roman fortitude he awaited his fate,
glancing indifferently meanwhile at the glittering edge of the hatchet
still held over him.
George took the hatchet from Lance's hand, and said to the Indian, in
English: "Though you have tried to kill me, I will spare your life. But
I will not trust you behind me. Walk ten paces in front of us, in the
direction of the Alleghany River."
The Indian turned, and, after getting his bearings, started off in a
manner which showed he understood what was required of him.
The Indians have keen ears, so that George and Lance dared not speak in
his hearing, but by exchanging signs they conveyed to each other that
there were enemies on their path, of whom this fellow was only one.
Steadily the three tramped for hours, Lance carrying the Indian's gun.
When darkness came on they stopped and made the Indian make the fire,
which he did, scowling, as being squaw's work. They then divided with
him their scanty ration of dried venison, and, George taking charge of
the guns, Lance slept two hours. He was then wakened by George, who lay
down by the fire and slept two hours, when he too was wakened. George
then said to the Indian, who had remained sleepless and upright all the
time:
"We have determined to let you go, as we have not food enough for three
men. Go back to your tribe, and tell them that we spared your life; but
before you go pile wood on the fire, for we may have to remain here, on
account of the rise in the river, for several days."
This was a _ruse_, but the Indian fell at once into the trap. After
replenishing the fire he started off in a northwesterly direction. As
soon as George and Lance were sure that he was out of sight they made
off in the opposite direction, and after some hours of trudging through
snow and ice they found themselves on the bank of the river. They had
hoped to find it frozen over, but, instead, there was only a fringe of
ice-cakes along the shores and swirling about in the main channel.
Lance looked at George in some discouragement, but George only said,
cheerfully: "It is lucky you have the hatchet, Lance. We must make a
raft."
The short winter day was nearly done before a rude raft was made, and on
it the two embarked. The piercing wind dashed their frail contrivance
about, and it was buffeted to and fro by the floating ice. They could
not make the opposite shore, but were forced to land on an island, where
they spent the night. The hardships told on the older man, and George
saw, by the despairing look in Lance's eyes, that he could do no more
that day. Wood, however, was plentiful, and a great fire was made.
"Cheer up, Lance!" cried George, when the fire began to blaze: "there is
still more dried venison left. You shall sleep to-night, and in the
morning the river will be frozen over, and one more day's march will
bring us to civilization."
Lance was deeply mortified at his temporary collapse, but there was no
denying it. George had but little sleep that night. Five days afterwards
the two parted--Lance to return to Greenway Court, and George to press
on to Williamsburg. By that time they had secured horses.
"Good-by, my friend," said George. "Tell my lord that nothing but the
urgency of the case prevented me from giving myself the happiness of
seeing him, and that no day has passed since he sent you with me that I
have not thanked him in my heart for your company."
A subtle quiver came upon Lance's rugged face.
"Mr. Washington," he said, "I thank you humbly for what you have said;
but mark my words, sir, the time will come, if it is not already here,
that my lord will be thankful for every hour that you have spent with
him, and proud for every step of advancement he has helped you to."
"I hope so, my friend," cried George, gayly, and turning to go.
Lance watched the tall, lithe young figure in hunting-clothes, worn and
torn, riding jauntily off, until George was out of sight. Then he
himself struck out for Greenway Court. Four days afterwards a tattered
figure rode up to Mount Vernon. The negroes laughed and cried and
yah-yahed at seeing "Marse George" in such a plight. Spending only one
night there, in order to get some clothes and necessaries, he left at
daybreak for Williamsburg, where he arrived and reported to the
Governor, exactly eleven weeks from the day he started on this terrible
journey.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
TURKEY, "THE SICK MAN."
BY V. GRIBAYÉDOFF.