well. But he can do nothing without Washington. And now you and I can
do nothing. It is better to sit still and wait than to walk into the
enemy.”
They waited. The woods paled, but the fog hung low and shut them in.
Then, after a long wait, with the fog beginning to thin a little, first
they smelled smoke, as if they might be near an Indian camp. Then, when
the fog had thinned more, they could just see a house burning, to their
right, in the cleared ground before the fort.
The house was between them and the hill that Robert had left; he had
had no idea that he was so far in. Then, with the fog lifting rapidly,
down out of it marched a company of soldiers, right into the cleared
ground.
Now a cluster of Indian lodges could be seen close against the fort
walls; the burning building was a fort storehouse; and the company of
soldiers were Highlanders.
Where were the Major Lewis Buckskins? Had they got lost, too? Just what
to do, Robert did not know. But Scarouady grunted.
“The petticoat warriors are fools, like the red-coats. You and I will
stay out of this, for I see trouble.”
The Highland men had halted within cannon shot of the fort and several
of them seemed to be making a map! The Indians at the fort were
pointing, for the air was now bright. And then, from the hill, drums
beat the reveille, as if daring the fort people to come out!
“Ugh!” uttered Scarouady. “Look! They wake up!”
For, drowning the drum roll, the fort Indians had answered with the
war-whoop; and out of the fort gates were rushing the French――some of
them in only their shirts, but all armed; and they and the Indians,
numbering hundreds, charged for the Highland company.
“Wah!” cried Scarouady. “The petticoat warriors mean to fight.”
And they did fight. They stood firmly, their guns belched, the French
and Indians broke, and flowed on either side; the Highland men turned
about, they charged through, their captain fell dead, but they got
into the woods, and next the woods were full of shooting and yelling.
Indians were running in every direction.
“We shall have to get out of here,” said Scarouady. He and Robert ran.
They ran a long distance, dodging the shooting, for it was a question
of saving their scalps. The woods were like a hornets’ nest. After
about two miles they discovered more men.
“Long Knives!” Scarouady cried; and with Robert shouting “Friend!” they
ran in to these.
These were Captain Bullitt’s company, guarding the baggage on the
trail. They were anxious and peering, for they had heard the battle
sounds; but Robert had had scarcely time to gasp the news when the
woods echoed more loudly, and the Highland soldiers began to race in.
“What’s the word? Quick?” Captain Bullitt demanded.
“A’ beaten, a’ beaten!” they wailed. “We ha’ seen gude men up to their
hunkers in mud an’ a’ the skeen aff their heads!”
“Where is Major Lewis, corporal?” Captain Bullitt shouted to Robert.
“I don’t know, sir. I was sent on a scout early in the morning.”
“He was afterward ordered back here to the baggage so as to give the
Regulars the glory!” stormed Captain Bullitt. “Now he’s gone on his own
hook to help the Regulars! Well, they didn’t want the Buckskins, but
they’ll be glad of ’em now! Quick, men! We’ll fort behind the baggage
and save what men we can. We’ll not run from the red rascals.”
In a moment the rout poured in, with the Indians and the French close
behind. Aye, but that was a fight! The fifty “backwoodsmen” of Captain
Bullitt gave ball for ball. The war-whoop of Scarouady sounded high;
the musket in Robert the Hunter’s hands grew hot.
They were savage, those Indians who usually feared the Long Knives;
and the French mingled with them. At last Captain Bullitt waited until
they had crowded to within thirty feet; then he gave the word: “Fire!”
The muskets spoke together, mowing down the enemy. “With the bayonet:
Charge!” That cleared the field.
The wagons were loaded at lightning speed, the wounded were put aboard,
no more fugitives were coming in; and they all hastened back for
Loyalhannon.
It was learned later that Major Grant and Major Lewis had both been
captured. Major Lewis (a strapping man, very strong) had killed a
warrior in hand-to-hand fight before he surrendered.
Altogether Major Grant had lost two hundred and seventy-three out of
eight hundred; and of the “Provincials” Captain Bullitt was the only
officer unhurt.
XXII
THE FALL OF THE GREAT FORT
After this there was no doubt as to the value of the American
“Provincials,” whether in buckskin or in rags. The Major Lewis
battalion had held the enemy while the Major Grant Regulars had
retreated; and then Captain Bullitt’s company had saved these, or they
would all have been killed in the woods.
General Forbes issued an order complimenting Washington upon his men,
and Captain Bullitt was promoted to be a major.
As for Robert, he had been lucky; and as for Scarouady, he went away,
disgusted again with the foolishness of fighting with one’s eyes closed.
The useless battle in front of Fort Duquesne had occurred about the
middle of September. October passed, with Colonel Bouquet waiting
here at Loyalhannon where he had finished the supply-fort named Fort
Ligonier.
Washington was bringing on the new Virginia regiment, and General
Forbes was on the way from his sick bed.
Washington arrived first. If ever a man was welcome, it was he. The
very sight of him gave confidence that the onward march would be made
with sense.
But General Forbes was coming on from Raystown in a litter, with the
main column. The fifty miles of new road had been found to be very bad,
and Fort Duquesne was another fifty miles ahead. November had opened
with rain and snow again; the Virginia and Maryland troops were short
of clothing and blankets. If fifty days had been spent in getting this
far, only fifty miles, when could they all break through the next fifty
miles upon a winter trail?
General Forbes arrived in his litter. A council of war was held; and in
that even Washington advised that nothing more be done until spring.
’Twas plain to be seen how disappointed he was. All the Virginians knew
that if his first advice had been taken, and the march had been made
over his and Braddock’s road, through country that had been mapped and
explored many a time, before this the army would have been comfortable
in Duquesne.
But a lucky thing happened. Since the Major Grant battle the French and
Indians had been bolder, and had prowled around Loyalhannon, firing by
night on the sentries. One night, after Washington came――in fact, the
very night after the council, a trap was set by an advance outpost,
with Robert himself in charge.
By tracks that had been found, the enemy stole up under cover of a high
bank along the creek and hid there to pick off the sentries. Very good!
With his little squad Corporal Hunter crouched in the brush above the
bank, and waited. Early in the morning the enemy came――six, led by a
French officer.
“Fire!” Corporal Hunter suddenly ordered; the muskets flared through
the dimness, and the men charged out. The enemy ran like shadows
flitting. There were two dead Indians, but Robert did not pause for
these. He had his eye upon the Frenchman. The Frenchman had been
wounded in the leg; and when he found he could not get away he turned
about and cried: “Mercy! Mercy!”
So Robert marched him to the fort.
This was a valuable capture. It might mean the fall of Fort Duquesne.
Huzzah, huzzah! The Frenchman said that an officer named Ligneris
commanded Fort Duquesne. The English armies in the north had cut off
his provisions. His men were leaving him. Even his Indians were going
home; the Delawares, Shawnees and Mingos had refused to help the
French any longer, for they feared the wrath of the Long Knives; the
Potawatomis and Ottawas and Hurons were tired of war――they said that
now the English had been stopped, and they wished to go home for the
winter. Fort Duquesne had only five or six hundred men.
Whether or not the Frenchman was lying, this put new life into the
army. Snow, rain, mud and hunger mattered no longer; the time to strike
had arrived; and Washington’s worn face brightened.
He and his Virginians and the Pennsylvanians were to be given the
advance at last; stripped of baggage, taking only their knapsacks and
blankets, twenty-five hundred picked men were to press after. That was
the Washington way. Washington commanded but Colonel George Armstrong
commanded the Pennsylvanians. Now the road onward had to be made in the
rain and the snow and the mud. Sometimes the Pennsylvanians took the
lead, and sometimes the Virginians; but with Washington encouraging,
always calm, always strong, never disheartened, the Virginians finally
got ahead and stayed there.
A fire-place was ordered by him, at each supply camp, to warm the
General; for old Iron Head was coming in his litter. He was a man! And
when the Potawatomis, Ottawas, Hurons and other of the Lake Indians at
the fort learned from spies that the Long Knives of Washington were
making the road, they refused to attack them. They had had experience
with these soldiers who fought with their eyes open and rarely missed.
Six or seven miles of road were all that could be hewed out in a day.
It was November 24 when the road was within six miles of the fort; and
halt had been made until the main column came in, with Head of Iron
borne in his curtained litter. And here was Scarouady, bringing Aroas,
White Thunder, and other Mingos to greet Washington.
“Wah!” Scarouady said to Robert. “Is it true that Head of Iron is
carried in that thing to keep him safe?”
“Yes,” said Robert.
“We have come to see,” continued Scarouady. “For the French Indians are
told he is a man of such terrible temper that he must be guarded on the
march or he will run wild and spread death among all the Indians who
would fight him.”
“That is true,” answered Robert.
“Well,” said Scarouady, “I think Washington is going to take the fort,
unless more foolishness is done. We will wait on the hill and see, for
we have risked our lives before and gained nothing.”
The General was so weak from his pain that the officers urged him to
wait a day or two before making the attack.
“No,” he replied. “I will sleep in Fort Duquesne tomorrow night or I
will sleep nowhere.”
There had been smoke, this evening, in the direction of the fort; and
in the middle of the night a great “Boom!” shook the woods. What this
meant nobody knew and nobody cared. They all would see on the morrow.
In the morning they started on from these headwaters of Turkey Creek,
near whose mouth, not many miles west, General Braddock’s army had been
cut to pieces.
The day was dark and chill――this day when Fort Duquesne should fall,
after four years of defiance.
The Buckskins led, to clear the road of the enemy. After them followed
Head of Iron, in his litter, at the fore of the Highlanders. The Royal
Americans held the right, under Colonel Bouquet. The other Virginians,
and the Pennsylvanians and the Maryland and North Carolina companies
held the left, under Washington. The drums beat――tap, tap――and the
steady tramp of feet rustled the dead leaves of the forest aisles.
About noon they all began to pass skeletons; those were the remains of
men killed during the Grant battle two months back.
From the scout-line Robert now and again could see these three columns
toiling on through the wet, naked woods, up hill and down. The scouts
had sighted no enemy, yet.
In the early dusk the view of the Forks opened from around Grant’s
Hill. What was that? See! The fort was afire――the walls were smouldering
under a canopy of smoke, and beyond, in the Ohio, the last of a fleet of
boats was disappearing in the mists! Huzzah! The scouts ran boldly
through the clearing; and stopped short. Wah!
Robert found himself at a race-track used by the Indians for foot-races.
It stretched straight-away, and was marked by poles set upon either side
of it; and every pole was topped by the head of a Highlander with his
petticoat clothing hung beneath!
An Indian joke! Whew! Now what would happen? The scouts did not have
long to wait. Down among the stumps marched the Washington Buckskins;
they had won the honor of the lead, and Washington rode at their front.
The Pennsylvanians and the other Provincials followed closely. One and
all they saw the heads upon the poles, but this did not stop them. The
Royal Americans in their red and blue came next, their fifes and drums
playing merrily. The Highlanders strode after, with Head of Iron in his
litter leading them on.
What now? Listen! They had sighted the first of the heads――they had
broken into a hoarse growl. The growl spread; and see! They had gone
mad! They had thrown away their muskets, they had bared their stout
swords, they were coming in a mob, like wild buffalo; their bare knees
worked up and down, their kilt petticoats flapped, the ribbons of their
caps streamed behind them, and treading under foot whatever was in
their path they charged for the fort, to kill.
But there was nobody in the fort. The French had blown up the
ammunition magazine (this had been the “Boom!” in the night), and had
gone away in boats.
“The last boats left only an hour before the Long Knives came,” said
Scarouady. “Well, now Washington and I have been at the death of this
great house which the English should have taken years ago. It was a
house of much mischief.”
That was a moment not to be forgotten, when, with all the troops
presenting arms, and the fifes piping and shrilling, and the drums
rolling, by order of General Forbes himself Colonel George Washington,
the youngest field officer, raised the flag over the ruins of Fort
Duquesne. He had earned that honor.
The Ohio country was to be English; the French had made a strong fight,
but they never were to come back.
“Your reports upon this place are correct, Colonel Washington,” said
the worn old Head of Iron. “It is the site for a fort, and the site
for a city. In the name of His Majesty I christen it Pittsburgh, as a
tribute to Sir William Pitt, His Majesty’s great prime minister who has
so vigorously prosecuted this war to the glory of His Majesty’s arms.”
Huzzah, huzzah, huzzah!
XXIII
COLONEL WASHINGTON RESTS
The next day was spent in resting. Little was left of Fort Duquesne
save the charred logs of the palisades, and the tall chimneys of the
buildings.
Several more Indians came in. They were Delawares and Shawnees, who
wished to see Head of Iron――that terrible chief who had to be guarded
in a litter, lest he break loose and spread death. They were anxious to
look upon Washington again, who was under the protection of the Great
Spirit.
Thirteen fair shots had been made at him in the Braddock fight, by a
chief. Not one bullet had struck him. Evidently he was not to be slain
by bullets.
While quarters were being built for the new garrison the bones of the
Grant soldiers were gathered and buried. Then a number of the soldiers
wished to see Braddock’s Field. So they went out, with Robert and
others of the Virginians who had seen it before.
The Delawares and Shawnees acted as guides. As for Robert, there had
been such a rout and excitement that he had had time to note very
little. How long ago that seemed!
The woods from the ambush hill to the river were still strewn with
skeletons――the tree trunks were scarred with bullets and cannon-balls,
and fragments of clothing, grenadier hats and rusted muskets were
scattered everywhere.
Young Major Peter Halket, of General Forbes’ staff, wondered if
anybody could tell him where his father and younger brother had fallen.
Robert asked the Shawnees――“Two red-coat soldiers,” he said: “an old
gray-haired man and a boy. They fell together, the boy on top of his
father, down toward the river.” He remembered that.
“Ho!” cried one of the Shawnees. “Yes; I saw. It was many moons ago,
but I will try to find the spot.”
He led off, and they all followed. And after a time he stopped, to peer
about. Then he ran straight; then they heard him cry, from the woods――a
discovery whoop. Then they went in to him. He was waiting under an oak
tree. He pointed at the foot of it, where leaves were heaped up.
Captain West, who commanded the party, formed a circle of the men and
ordered the leaves to be raked aside. And sure enough, here were two
skeletons, one with its arms around the other. They were old Major
Halket, the brave Scotch nobleman, and his son. Young Major Halket knew
by the teeth which had been his father’s.
The bones were wrapped in a Highland plaid, and buried, and a volley
fired over the grave.
The quarters having been built, and two hundred Virginians under
Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Mercer having been detailed to guard them, the
column started home. It was the middle of December when the Virginians
were finally in Fort Loudoun of Winchester. They were to be disbanded.
In Washington’s opinion they had served enough; a “really fine corps”
General Forbes had called them; now the border was clean of the enemy,
and it was time that they be mustered out.
Washington resigned his post of commander――which made the men all the
more anxious to quit soldiering and go home, too. The two regiments
drew up an address to him――
“In you we place the most implicit confidence,” it said. “Your presence
only will cause a steady firmness and vigor to actuate every breast,
despising the greatest dangers, and thinking light of toils and
hardships, while led on by the man we know and love.”
This was the Thirtieth Day of December, 1758. He handed in his
commission very soon; and on January 6 he was married. That had not
been unexpected. He had been sending out letters to Mrs. Martha Custis,
from every camp; and he had been in a great hurry to get back, after
the capture of the fort.
The English were growing stronger, the French were growing weaker. The
Seven Years War between Great Britain and France lasted about five
years longer; France lost not only the Ohio Country but Canada as well;
Onontio of the Indians was driven from America.
But in this fighting Robert Hunter and the other Buckskins took no
part. They had to wait for a greater war, when Washington again proved
his mettle and his wisdom. That, however, was still years ahead;
although, said certain people, among them old Lord Fairfax, it was
surely coming.
THE END
LIPPINCOTT BOOKS
JOHN T. FARIS’ TRAVEL BOOKS DE LUXE
SEEING THE SUNNY SOUTH
The author gives a truthful and charming description of all the
many interesting features of the country through which he passes.
Illustrated with a frontispiece in color and 115 halftones from
original photographs. 210 Pages. Handsome octavo.
=$6.00=
SEEING THE EASTERN STATES
This volume points out, describes and illustrates all the places of
interest in the Eastern States. The author is an indefatigable traveler
and searches out the little known, but interesting and historic
places, as well as those on the beaten tracks of travel. An altogether
surprising and delightful journey through the historic States from
Maine to Delaware. A color frontispiece of rare beauty. 91 Halftone
illustrations. 300 Pages. Handsomely bound.
=$5.00=
SEEING THE FAR WEST
A remarkable panorama of the scenic glories of the States, from the
Rockies to the Pacific. 113 Illustrations and 2 maps.
=$6.00=
SEEING PENNSYLVANIA
A fascinating guide to an American wonderland which all Americans
should know. Frontispiece in color. 113 illustrations in doubletone and
2 maps.
=$5.00=
DELAWARE AND THE EASTERN SHORE
By EDWARD NOBLE VALLANDIGHAM
The author writes like a lover and reveals the elusive charm of this
region which is distinguished by its variety of appeal. Entertainment,
humour and mellow wisdom mark this thorough-going book on a fascinating
section of our country. Special attention is given to the Chesapeake
with all that it implies. 80 Photographic illustrations and a map. 320
Pages.
=$5.00=
PETER COTTERELL’S TREASURE
By RUPERT SARGENT HOLLAND. Tom Hallett, who lived in a seacoast
town, was longing for adventure when he meets a stranger named John
Tuckerman. Tuckerman invites Tom to camp out with him on Cotterell’s
Island in the harbor, which was formerly owned by Tuckerman’s uncle,
“Crusty” Christopher Cotterell, and from which all strangers were
barred. Tom accepts the invitation and adds two of his friends to the
party, and the four start for the island. Not long after landing the
adventure that Tom was wishing for begins and continues until the
surprising climax in which many strange things are revealed. There is a
treasure and mysterious visitors looking for it. Four Illustrations.
=$1.75=
AN OLD WOLF’S FAVOURITES
By SIR ROBERT BADEN-POWELL. The Chief Scout of England recounts in an
intensely interesting fashion his adventures with wild animals and
others of a tamer variety. Sir Robert has traveled extensively, and
describes the animal life and customs in many parts of the world.
Illustrated by the author.
=$1.25=
WHAT SCOUTS CAN DO
By SIR ROBERT BADEN-POWELL. Here is a book that should be in the hands
of every boy with a red-blooded love of the great outdoors. It is
filled with a multitude of things that will have a sure appeal to the
heart of a youth. Profusely illustrated.
=$1.50=
AMERICAN BOYS’ BOOK OF WILD ANIMALS
By DANIEL CARTER BEARD. This latest addition to the Woodcraft Series
presents a fascinating and informative trip into the wilds. There is
something new on every page, incidents and adventures, stories of
bears, wild cats, deer, opossum and many other smaller denizens of the
forest. Profusely illustrated. Octavo.
=$3.00=
Dan Beard’s Other Volumes in the Woodcraft Series
=AMERICAN BOYS’ HANDY BOOK OF CAMP LORE AND WOODCRAFT.= 377
Illustrations.
=$3.00=
=AMERICAN BOYS’ BOOK OF SIGNS, SIGNALS AND SYMBOLS.= 362
Illustrations.
=$3.00=
=AMERICAN BOYS’ BOOK OF BUGS, BUTTERFLIES AND BEETLES.= 280
Illustrations.
=$3.00=
AMERICAN HISTORY AND GOVERNMENT
By MATTHEW PAGE ANDREWS
This history embodies the spirit and technique of the newest teaching
methods, and promotes the following aims: The Civic Motive, American
Ideals and Institutions; Adequate and Fair Presentation of Truth. It is
not a “dry as dust” history, but puts real life into the reading of our
nation’s development.
=$2.00=
THE GRANDEUR THAT WAS ROME
By J. C. STOBART
THE GLORY THAT WAS GREECE
By J. C. STOBART
Two supremely human surveys of Hellenic and Roman Culture superbly
illustrated in color, monochrome and halftone. The author has given
them a living reality without detracting any of the romance and glamour
that is their due. Art, literature, politics, science and religion have
all been given attention in keeping with their significance. The two
volumes contain over 236 illustrations with a number of excellent maps.
Handsomely bound.
Each volume =$7.50=
SOCIAL WORK IN THE LIGHT OF HISTORY
By STUART A. QUEEN, Ph.D.
University of Kansas
The first volume in the new series of sociological monographs. The book
shows the possibility of relating social work to general social and
economic development, illustrating the unity of social process.
=$2.00=
MODERN AND CONTEMPORARY EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION
By H. G. PLUM and C. G. BENJAMIN
University of Iowa
This text-book for high schools presents an outline of the nineteenth
century history that will bear a direct relation to the great war
and its outcome. The volume presents unique problems which are more
important today than forms of government, nationality, or any other
features of our world’s civilization, and should be presented to the
coming generation in a constructive form instead of as editions of
political history. Illustrated.
=$2.20=
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).
――Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
follow the text that they illustrate.
――Obvious printer’s, punctuation, and spelling inaccuracies were
silently corrected, except as noted below.
――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.