THE MINUTE BOYS OF
SOUTH CAROLINA
AMERICAN HISTORY STORIES FOR BOYS
_THE MINUTE BOYS SERIES_
The Minute Boys of Lexington
The Minute Boys of Bunker Hill
=By Edward Stratemeyer=
[Illustration]
The Minute Boys of the Green Mountains
The Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley
The Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley
The Minute Boys of South Carolina
The Minute Boys of Long Island
=By James Otis=
_THE MEXICAN WAR SERIES_
By Capt. Ralph Bonehill
For the Liberty of Texas
With Taylor on the Rio Grande
Under Scott in Mexico
DANA ESTES & COMPANY
Publishers
Estes Press, Summer St., Boston
[Illustration: “‘I WILL TAKE YOUR LIFE AS FORFEIT FOR TREACHERY!’”
(_See page 281._)]
THE
MINUTE BOYS
OF SOUTH CAROLINA
A STORY OF “HOW WE BOYS AIDED
MARION THE SWAMP FOX”
AS TOLD BY
RUFUS RANDOLPH
JAMES OTIS
Illustrated by
J. W. F. KENNEDY
[Illustration]
BOSTON
DANA ESTES & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1907_
BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
_COLONIAL PRESS
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U. S. A._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
FOREWORD v
I. GABRIEL AND RUFUS 11
II. THE PURSUIT 28
III. RECRUITS 47
IV. DISAPPOINTMENT 67
V. BARFIELD’S CAMP 87
VI. THE RESCUE 103
VII. NELSON’S FERRY 121
VIII. THE PRISONERS 140
IX. A TRAP 159
X. AN ODD BATTLE 179
XI. OUR RETREAT 198
XII. A MYSTERIOUS ESCAPE 217
XIII. THE SEARCH FOR THE TRAITOR 236
XIV. A QUEER MESSAGE 254
XV. ROWE’S SMITHY 273
XVI. A SKIRMISH IN THE DARK 292
XVII. SETH HASTINGS ONCE MORE 310
XVIII. MANŒUVRING FOR POSITION 326
XIX. A DASTARDLY BLOW 344
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
“‘I WILL TAKE YOUR LIFE AS FORFEIT FOR TREACHERY!’”
(_See page 281_) _Frontispiece_
“‘FIVE MINUTES LONGER AND WE SHALL BE OUT OF RANGE!’” 32
“‘DISMOUNT AND THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS!’” 80
“IF IT HAD NOT BEEN FOR SETH HASTINGS, I SHOULD
HAVE CONSIDERED MYSELF EXCEEDINGLY FORTUNATE” 112
“‘I PROPOSE THAT WE HALT HERE’” 123
“THEN WE SAW COMING THROUGH THE AVENUE OF
TREES OUR ‘SWAMP FOX’” 196
“‘ARE YOU MASTER DAVIS’S DAUGHTER?’” 265
“‘AND WE ARE TO LEAVE ALL THESE CAMP EQUIPMENTS?’” 314
FOREWORD
It has always seemed proper to me that he who writes a story should
explain to the readers how it came about that he was prompted to tell
the tale, for surely there must be a good and sufficient reason for the
making of a book, and it also comes to my mind that however dry and
uninteresting such an explanation may be, he who reads the story owes
it to himself, as well as the author, to learn all he can regarding the
facts, however remote, which may pertain to the characters presented,
and yet be of such a nature that the author cannot well, without
sacrificing his own plans, deviate sufficiently to relate them in the
book itself.
Therefore it is that I shall be grateful to the reader if he will set
down in his own mind certain passages from history which are quoted
below, to the end that he may the better understand why two lads born
and bred in Charleston, in the State of South Carolina, left their
homes at a time when the cause of liberty appeared to be crushed to
earth, and why they followed the desperate ventures of Francis Marion
during his unequal but wondrously successful struggle against an enemy
which was bent on trampling into the mire the patriots who strove to
rear a country for themselves in the New World.
Shortly after the publication of the story entitled “The Minute Boys
of the Mohawk Valley,” a gentleman residing at Charleston sent to me a
packet of closely written pages, stained by time, and with the ink so
faded that only with difficulty certain portions could be read. I was
richly rewarded, however, for the labor spent in reading that which
was set down, for I found that the manuscript was neither more nor
less than a series of letters connected, evidently at a later date, by
memoranda, and all written by one Rufus Randolph, a distant relative of
Francis and Gabriel Marion.
To make of the whole a story, such as entertained myself at least, was
a trifling task compared with the labor which had been performed by
the young writer, and verily it was a labor of love, for while working
over the faded pages I came to learn many things concerning that heroic
struggle which the “Swamp Fox” made against overwhelming forces bent on
devastating the fair colony of South Carolina, and I have done little
more in the pages which follow than transcribe his own story.
So much for the reason why “The Minute Boys of South Carolina” has
been put into print, and now, because Rufus Randolph failed to set
down anything concerning those terrible days after Sir Henry Clinton
captured the city of Charleston, I ask that the following extracts
from the historian Lossing’s “Field Book of the Revolution,” a goodly
portion of which I have condensed lest one weary with the reading, be
studied with some care.
“The fall of Charleston, and loss of Lincoln’s army, paralyzed
the Republican strength at the South, and the British commanders
confidently believed that the finishing-stroke of the war had been
given.”
“Clinton sailed for New York on the fifth of June, leaving Cornwallis
in chief command of the British troops at the South. Before his
departure, Clinton issued a proclamation, declaring all persons not
in military service, who were prisoners at Charleston, released from
their paroles, provided they returned to their allegiance as subjects
of Great Britain. So far, well; but not the sequel. All persons
refusing to comply with this requisition were declared to be enemies
and rebels, and were to be treated accordingly. And more; they were
required to enroll themselves as militia under the king’s standard.
This flagrant violation of the terms of capitulation aroused a spirit
of indignant defiance, which proved a powerful lever in overturning the
royal power in the South. Many considered themselves released from all
the obligations of their paroles, and immediately armed themselves in
defence of their homes and country, while others refused to exchange
their paroles for any new conditions. The silent influence of eminent
citizens who took this course was now perceived by Cornwallis, and,
in further violation of the conditions of capitulation, he sent many
leading men of Charleston as close prisoners to St. Augustine, while a
large number of the Continental soldiers were cast into the loathsome
prison-ships, and other vessels in the harbor.”
“But when the trumpet-blasts of the conqueror of Burgoyne were heard
upon the Roanoke, and the brave hearts of Virginia and North Carolina
were gathering around the standard of Gates, the patriots of the
South lifted up their heads, and many of them, like Samson rising in
strength, broke the feeble cords of ‘paroles’ and ‘protections,’ and
smote the Philistines of the crown with mighty energy. Sumter sounded
the bugle among the hills on the Catawba and Broad Rivers; Marion’s
shrill whistle rang amid the swamps on the Pedee; and Pickens and
Clarke called forth the brave sons of liberty upon the banks of the
Saluda, the Savannah, the Ogeechee, and the Alatamaha.
“Fortunately for the Republican cause, an accident prevented Marion
being among the prisoners when Charleston fell, and he was yet at
liberty, having no parole to violate, to arouse his countrymen to make
further efforts against the invaders. While yet unable to be active,
he took refuge in the swamps upon the Black River, while Governor
Rutledge, Colonel Horry, and others, who had escaped the disasters at
Charleston, were in North Carolina arousing the people of that State to
meet the danger which stood menacing upon its southern border. Marion’s
military genius and great bravery were known to friends and foes, and
while the latter sought to entrap him, the former held over him the
shield of their vigilance. ‘In the moment of alarm he was sped from
house to house, from tree to thicket, from the thicket to the swamp.’”
“It was while in the camp of Gates that Governor Rutledge, who also was
there, commissioned Marion a brigadier, and he sped to the district
of Williamsburg, between the Santee and Pedee, to lead its rising
patriots to the field of active military duties. They had accepted the
protection of British power after Charleston was surrendered, in common
with their subdued brethren of the low country; but when Clinton’s
proclamation was promulgated, making active service for the crown or
the penalty of rebellion an alternative, they eagerly chose the latter,
and lifted the strong arm-resistance to tyranny. They called Marion to
be their leader, and of these men he formed his efficient brigade, the
terror of British scouts and outposts. Near the mouth of Lynch’s Creek
he assumed the command, and among the interminable swamps upon Snow’s
Island, near the junction of that stream with the Great Pedee, he made
his chief rendezvous during the greater portion of his independent
partisan warfare.”
Having thus refreshed your memory with the facts just given, remember
that that which follows is the work of Rufus Randolph, and not of your
friend,
JAMES OTIS.
THE MINUTE BOYS OF SOUTH CAROLINA
CHAPTER I
GABRIEL AND RUFUS
The king’s forces laid siege to Charleston, in the State of South
Carolina, on the very day that Gabriel Marion was sixteen years old,
and when I was come to the same age the Continental forces made their
first sortie, as I remember full well because of the fact that General
Moultre’s brother was then killed. Thus it will be seen that Gabriel
was my senior only by fifteen days, for it must be fresh in the minds
of every one that Sir Henry Clinton opened fire on Charleston the
fifth day of April, in the year of grace 1780; that the Americans made
their first sortie on the twentieth; that on the sixth day of May the
besiegers completed their third parallel, and on the twelfth the city
was in the possession of the king’s troops.
There is no good reason why I should go into details concerning the
siege and capture of Charleston, because they are well known to
everybody; but I have used the facts as a starting-point of what may
prove to be a story such as can be told to lads who shall live after I
have gone out of this world. It seems no more than proper to do so, for
it was while the British shot and shell were screaming over our heads
as we aided in the defence as boys might, that Gabriel Marion, brother
of that General Marion whom the minions of the king dubbed “Swamp Fox,”
determined to profit by the example which the lads in the eastern
States had set us, and once the time should be ripe, band the lads of
South Carolina together under the name of Minute Boys.
Many a time, as Gabriel and I staggered here and there under the burden
of ammunition for our elders, who had permitted that we take part in
the defence to the extent of supplying the different guns with powder
and ball,--and so small was our store that we were forced now and again
to carry it an exceeding long distance,--many a time, as I have said,
while we were thus engaged Gabriel and I turned the matter over in our
minds, vowing that as soon as the king’s hirelings had been beaten
back, as we had no doubt soon would be the case, the Minute Boys of
South Carolina should come into existence as an organization distinct
from the regular army.
Warm friends were Gabriel and I, with never a difference between us
save when, owing to the fact that my name was Rufus and my hair all too
vividly red for my own pleasure, he would persist in calling me William
Rufus, giving me the name of that king who was known as “The Red,”
and it vexed me sorely at times, because, although not responsible for
my personal appearance, the shock of red hair with which nature had
endowed me was so conspicuous as to call forth comment from all who saw
it for the first time.
It was as if he called me “carrot-top,” when he tacked on to my name
Rufus, that of William, because the youngest schoolboy knows that
William Rufus’s hair showed out so conspicuous that his soldiers were
as prone to follow it into battle, when perchance a lock was exposed
beneath his helmet, as they were to rally around his flag.
However, the color of my hair, and what Gabriel Marion might say in
sport regarding it, has nothing to do with that which I propose to set
down, save that it will serve to show now and again why I lost control
of my temper on being greeted by the name of a king.
Gabriel Marion lived with his brother, Francis, who was made
lieutenant-colonel at Savannah the year previous to the siege, in St.
John’s Parish, but at the time when Clinton appeared off Edisto Inlet,
the colonel was ordered to Charleston, and with him came Gabriel who
took up his abode in my home, for it was in that fair city I had been
born.
As you know, Charleston was surrendered on terms which to some seemed
honorable, while others declared them to be humiliating, and then came
that proclamation from Sir Henry Clinton which aroused the ire of every
person, young or old, male or female, in South Carolina. Following
closely upon it, as if it were but the natural sequel, came the arrest
of Lieutenant-Governor Gadsen and seventy-seven of the most influential
men, thus giving all our people to understand how little of faith we
could put in any declaration of those who had invaded our land. After
that August morning, when we saw the chief men of the city marched
away to the loathsome prison-ships in the harbor, there was but one
desire in the hearts of those who hoped to see their State rid of the
oppressive yoke which the king had put upon it, and that was to flee
to some place where they might act the part they had sworn to act,
and each do his full share toward making reprisals, for the victory
of the king’s forces had well-nigh crushed out from our breasts the
belief that we might make of the States so lately declared free and
independent, a nation of freemen.
I am not minded to go into detail concerning the flight of this family
or that from the stricken city, as there is in the story so much of
sorrow, or pain, ay, of shame, that it is not well to let the mind rest
upon it. Rather should we think of what has been accomplished since,
of how we wiped out the disgrace, if disgrace it can be called when
our people were whipped through sheer strength of numbers rather than
superior bravery or better knowledge of warfare.
Suffice it to say that among those who did steal secretly out of the
city, or tried to do so, vowing to avenge the wrongs that had been
perpetrated, were Gabriel Marion and I. My mother and invalid father
had set off for General Marion’s home on the very day after the
capitulation, and I was left to follow my own inclinations so that they
had the bent of my father’s advice, which was that, although not a man
in years, it was my duty to do a man’s full work in striking off the
shackles which the king’s misrule had fastened upon us.
It was not as easy for two stout lads like Gabriel and myself to leave
the city as it was for the women, the sick, or the helpless, and before
we found an opportunity to give the redcoats the slip, word was brought
by a negro, who had contrived to make his way through the British lines
with a message of mouth, that General Marion, his broken leg having
been healed and he made brigadier-general, had fled to Snow’s Island,
where he awaited the coming of those who were eager to continue in arms
against the victorious foe.
And now, just a word in regard to the rendezvous, lest some there be
who may not understand how an island can be situated inland, or where
this particular place is located. In Williamsburg district, where
the Great Pedee is joined by Lynch’s Creek, the united streams are
divided for a certain distance by a swampy piece of land with here
and there solid ground upon it. The rivers come together again at the
mouth, thus forming what we call Snow’s Island. Desperate indeed must
be the fortune of those who would seek such a refuge, for a guide was
necessary in order to lead one safely across the swamp-lands on either
side of the river to the few places where a man might lie down without
fear of being drowned. The only advantage it could possess was that the
enemy might not come upon it readily, and never gain the solid portion
of the surrounding country without being piloted by those who knew well
the devious passages.
Now you can understand why Gabriel’s brother was dubbed the “Swamp Fox”
by those who sought so vainly to entrap him, and you may also have some
faint idea of the hardships which we two lads knew must be encountered
before we could gain the rendezvous, for more than two-thirds of the
journey must be made over morass and swamp not unlike that which I have
just been describing.
However, we had little care, time, or thought for the dangers to be
encountered, because we were fleeing from that peril which seemed
greater than any we could meet, and it was by no means imaginary. We
had already seen the chief men of Charleston marched under heavy guard
to the prison-ships, where were horrors so great that it would chill
the blood of one to describe them, and if Sir Henry Clinton’s forces
dared lay hands upon the leading citizens of South Carolina, we knew
full well that two lads like ourselves would have but short shrift if
peradventure they had cause to suspect us of what they were pleased to
call treason.
Our plan, if indeed we had a plan at that time, was to take a boat up
Cooper River, thence into the West River to that portion of St. John’s
Parish where was located Gabriel’s home, and trust to the chance of
getting horses there; strike straight across the country to Gardine’s
Ferry, and thence to Snow’s Island as the disposition of the British
forces would allow.
Since we could not form a company of Minute Boys very well with but two
members, before setting out we cast about for such of our acquaintances
as were sufficiently strong in the backbone to permit of their sharing
the dangers with us, and the first to whom we unfolded our plan was
Archie Gordon.
But few words were necessary to enlist him in this scheme. Although a
full year younger than Gabriel and I, he was possessed with the same
fever to exact reprisals from the foe as were we, and without waiting
until all our half-formed plans should have been detailed, he announced
his purpose of joining us, declaring that he was not only ready to set
out immediately, but happened to know where we might find a skiff which
would be suited to our purpose.
While we were talking with him, Seth Hastings, a lad of seventeen
years or thereabouts, came up, and I would have held my peace while he
lingered near by, because of ever having distrusted the lad. His shifty
eyes, which refused to look squarely upon one; his love of telling a
lie when the truth would have served him better; the fact that he would
betray one playmate, if opportunity arose, to another in the hope of
provoking some small quarrel--all these things combined to make me
suspicious of the lad even when he spoke most fairly, and I would
almost as soon have gone to the red-coated soldiers with the plan as to
have confided it to Seth Hastings.
But Gabriel Marion, who could never see aught of evil in any person
save those who wore the king’s livery, welcomed him heartily as he came
up, and without waiting to learn if Archie and I were of the mind to
enlist this possible recruit, at once acquainted him with the plan,
urging that he enroll himself with us as Minute Boys of South Carolina.
It may have been that I was overly suspicious, for perhaps at that
moment Seth had no idea of playing the traitor to those whom he called
comrades; but I fancied there was in his eyes a gleam of--I know not
what to call it, yet the look which was in those shifty orbs disquieted
me, and I would have given much had it been possible to recall
Gabriel’s incautious words.
They had been spoken, however; Seth Hastings was in possession of our
secret, which, if known to the British commander or any of his staff,
would have consigned us instantly to the reeking, filthy prison-ships
where so many brave hearts were languishing nigh unto death. He knew
all our plan, and it was too late to draw back.
While Gabriel argued with him as to why he should join us, I cast about
in my mind as to how we might hold him true--how it would be possible
to prevent him from betraying us before we had set off on the journey,
and therefore it was that by the time Seth had agreed to make one of
what we hoped would soon be a company of Minute Boys, I proposed that
we start immediately, not waiting for more recruits lest opportunity
for leaving the city be lost.
“But we have neither arms nor provisions,” Archie Gordon objected,
and it must be remembered that immediately after the surrender of
Charleston squads of red-coated soldiers had marched up this street and
down that searching every house for weapons and ammunition, seizing
upon everything of such nature as could be found.
“We had better go off unarmed and hungry, than not go at all,” I
replied quickly, at the same time glancing toward Gabriel in the hope
that he might read in my face somewhat of the distrust which was in my
heart; but, honest even to a fault as he was, he failed to take the
hint, and on the instant began arguing with me as to why we should
delay our departure for at least eight and forty hours.
All the reasons for delay which Gabriel and Archie brought up were
good, and not to be combated by me justly, for it seemed little less
than folly for four lads to set off empty-handed, with no plausible
pretext for such a journey, and take every risk of being arrested by
the first of the king’s troops whom they might come across.
Gabriel claimed that by delaying no more than four and twenty hours we
could enlist a full dozen lads, and in the meanwhile, perhaps, gain
possession of arms, all of which I knew to be true.
Archie insisted that even though we were able to join General Marion
as we counted on, it would be a sorry reception we should receive, for,
without weapons and lacking food, we might be an incumbrance rather
than assistance to the cause.
I fancied that Seth, after listening to these well-founded arguments,
and as it seemed to me turning them over fully in his mind, was unduly
eager for delay, all of which I attributed to his desire to play us
some trick which would prove our undoing.
Therefore did I insist all the more strongly that we set off without
the delay of a single minute, urging the matter so vehemently that it
was as if they grew weary with trying to convince me of my own folly,
and agreed to start whenever I should say the word.
Then it was that I showed myself a fool beyond question, for, having
gained the point, I should have carried out the plan fully even as I
had shown myself eager to do; but at the last moment, when there was
no refusal on the part of my comrades, and even Seth Hastings seemed
willing to abide by the decision, I played the simple.
Having suddenly grown timid at the thought of setting off without so
much as would serve to sustain life during four and twenty hours, I
proposed that we separate to gather up such food as might be got at
immediately, meeting an hour later at the place where Archie said the
skiff was hidden.
I, who had been so suspicious, and the only one to distrust Seth, had
in the very moment of persuading my comrades to do as I desired, given
him every opportunity to play the traitor, for surely an hour was as
good as four and twenty if he was disposed to work us harm.
However, in my thick-headedness I failed to take heed of this fact,
even though to this day it puzzles me to understand how I should have
been such a blunderer, and believed that he, like the other members of
the party, would spend all his time collecting so much in the way of
provisions as might serve to save us from actual suffering.
Strange though it may seem, when I left that traitorous hound who
agreed to be at the rendezvous sixty minutes later, there was no
thought in my mind as to the possibility which I had allowed for
treason, nor did the idea occur to me while I was hurrying here and
there gathering such few articles as might be come at handily, for we
were not overly well provided with provisions in those days after the
occupation of the city by the British, when the red-coated soldiers had
taken everything they could lay their hands on.
Left in charge of my home, not with any idea that he could protect
it or prevent the king’s hirelings from working their will with
the property, was an old slave, a negro who had been born on my
grandfather’s plantation, and in whom I could trust as in my own
people. To him I explained what it was my purpose to do, and after
we two had gathered up such store of cooked food as I might carry
conveniently, he thrust into my hands a pistol, explaining that my
father had unintentionally left it behind when he set off so hurriedly
for St. John’s Parish. The weapon was charged; but, so old Simon
assured me, there was neither powder nor ball in the house save so much
as the steel barrel contained.
My home was at the corner of Elizabeth and Charlotte Streets facing
Wragg Square, and when I set off with old Simon’s prayers that no harm
might befall me ringing in my ears, my intention was to go down Chapel
Street to Concord, and thence to Reid Street, where I could gain the
water-front at the wharf which jutted out near Fort Washington.
It was only at the latter portion of the journey that danger to my
plans might be anticipated, for there would I meet a strong British
guard, who would or would not, as their fancy dictated, detain me, and
the fancy of those royal troops at times was something to be greatly
feared.
Only two persons did I meet during this distance, which was traversed
by me as rapidly as possible, and I was by no means surprised because
our people failed to be abroad, for in those dark days we who struggled
against the king hid like rats in their holes, while our city was in
possession of the enemy.
It was when I arrived within sight of the fort that my heart came into
my throat, knowing that now was the critical moment, yet had I spent
many days pondering over a plan, I could not have laid the time for
departure more happily, for when I came near the fortification the
noonday meal had just been portioned out to the soldiers, and they were
so busily employed in ministering to their swine-like appetites as to
give no heed to a boy like me.
“It is a good omen,” I said to myself as I gained the water’s edge
without having been challenged, and then again did I prove myself a
simple, for he who trades upon the future, claiming that the past is
any proof of that which is to come, has indeed lost his wits.
I arrived at the rendezvous triumphant and serene in mind, a good five
minutes before the time appointed, but found Gabriel Marion already
awaiting me. He looked dejected, as if matters had gone awry, and I
asked laughingly, for at the moment my spirits were high:
“Have you failed to find anything that can be eaten, lad?” and he
replied with a mournful shake of the head:
“I am too much of a stranger in the city to be able to burst into a
house uninvited and demand provisions. It was useless for me to go to
your home, which I have called mine since coming to Charleston, for
I knew you would bring away from there everything which might be of
benefit to us, and where could I have gone in the hope of getting that
which we need? Therefore have I come empty-handed, save for so much of
powder and lead as you see in this bag.”
He held toward me a small sack which might have contained a quart at
the most, and was now more than one-third filled.
“That is a richer find than you believed, Gabriel,” I said cheerily,
at the same time producing the pistol old Simon had given me, “for we
should be able to cut the bullets to fit these barrels, and although
only a toy like this may not count for much against the king’s weapons,
it is better than being empty-handed.”
Then I showed him my store of provisions, which, small though it was,
might suffice not very hungry boys for two meals, and he seemed to
think we were fairly well supplied.
“I cannot but believe, Rufus, that it is unwise thus to start off so
suddenly and so unprepared,” he said, pulling aside the bushes which
grew near a small creek making up from the river, disclosing to view
the skiff of which Archie had spoken. “It would have been different if
we knew that some important movement was near at hand, but thus to set
off as if our friends needed us most urgently, giving no heed to what
we might carry which would advantage them as well as ourselves, appears
to me much like folly.”
Then it was I explained why I had argued for a hurried departure,
repeating that the desire to get away was great owing to the distrust
in my mind regarding Seth Hastings, and when I was come to an end, he,
opening his eyes full upon me, exclaimed:
“And with all that in your heart you have given him an opportunity to
play the traitor, if so be he is inclined that way!”
Again I repeat that not until this moment did I realize the fact, and
then like a flood came upon me all the suspicions which had been mine
a short hour previous. Like the simple that I was, I would have given
way to words of self-reproach and anger, but that he hushed me by
laying his hand on my arm as he said:
“There is no good reason why you add to your folly, if folly it was,
for such mischief as Seth may be willing to do has already been brought
about. Yet, Rufus, I cannot agree with you that the lad would do such a
thing. Why should he betray us who never did him any wrong? Why should
he be willing to deliver into prison-ships boys like us, when it cannot
benefit him one jot? It is no crime that, because of some weakness,
he is unable to look a fellow squarely in the face. There are many of
us who have mannerisms disagreeable to others, and yet we would feel
aggrieved if they were set down, as you account Seth’s, like actual
crimes.”
I began to grow ashamed of myself under Gabriel’s quiet and convincing
reasoning, and just then Archie Gordon joined us, bearing on his
shoulder a well-filled sack which told how successful he had been in
his search for provisions.
“Huzza for Archie!” I cried, forgetting for the moment all that which
had caused me uneasiness of mind. “How does it chance that you were
allowed to come through the streets with such a burden?”
“It is neither more nor less than good fortune, William Rufus,” the lad
replied laughingly, and then, as if it was necessary I prove myself a
simple in every possible way on that day, I took offence at the name he
had put upon me, spending many a precious moment trying to convince
him it might be dangerous sport to thus jest at what I had almost come
to believe was my misfortune.
In this senseless manner I must have spent ten minutes or more, heeding
not the fact that it was Archie who had brought us the provisions of
which we stood sorely in need. No one can say how long my foolish
tongue might have argued on the subject, had not Gabriel Marion,
cool-headed lad that he was, insisted we could settle all disputes
while paddling up the river, but Archie cried, as I ran toward the
skiff with the intention of leaping in:
“We have yet to wait for Seth! It may be he is having better fortune
than either of us, and we will set out on our journey as well equipped
as if having spent a week in preparation.”
“There he comes now,” Gabriel said, pointing up Reid Street, and as he
spoke he stepped aboard the skiff in readiness to push off.
I was so deeply occupied with the offence committed by Archie in
calling me William Rufus, that I did not follow with my eyes the
direction indicated by Gabriel’s outstretched finger, but leaped aboard
the craft, having no more than cleared the gunwale when Archie cried in
an accent of terror:
“He is coming; but pursued by four redcoats!”
Then it was that all the fear which had possessed me a short time
previous returned with greater force, for instead of believing the boy
was chased by the soldiers, I understood as clearly as if he himself
had shouted to apprise us of the fact, that his delay had been caused
solely in order he might give information of that which we would do.
“The cowardly traitor!” I cried in a frenzy of rage. “He has played us
false, and is bringing the bloody-backs down to take us prisoners!”
I was conscious, without raising my eyes to look, that Archie gave a
quick glance over his shoulder, and then, dropping the precious sack of
provisions, he leaped into the skiff, pushing it off at the same moment
I gathered sufficient of wit to pick up a paddle in order to shove the
light craft farther out into the current.
I question if either of us three lads realized that we were proving to
the redcoats that our purpose was such as would not stand before the
scrutiny of their officers--that we were really outlawing ourselves
with but little hope of escape, when it would seem wiser if we stood
boldly before them, for there was nothing in the bag nor on our persons
which could give color to any story Seth Hastings might have told.
However, we had begun the flight, and neither questioned the wisdom of
so doing, although we knew that before sixty seconds had passed the
redcoats would fire upon us.