THE DAM ACROSS THE CREEK.
Ira did not stop to debate the question there on the mountain top. He
had a more difficult problem, which was, how to descend in safety to the
plain below.
Down the slanting shelf to the face of the cliff, he slowly groped his
way; and then lowered himself inch by inch down the rocks. Sometimes he
was forced to cling with his hands to a bush or sapling while he swung
to and fro in search of a footing. Often he was forced to guess what was
below him, and, at a venture, drop himself down where he believed he
would find a crevice large enough for his feet. It was many minutes, and
to him it must have seemed hours, before he gained a place from which he
could descend without danger.
Once at the foot of the hill he ran quickly through the woods, to the
place where he had left his horse. The farmer answered his summons
quickly, and the lad was astonished when once within the house, to learn
that it was only a few minutes past midnight.
“I will sleep until three o’clock, Master Lewis, if you don’t mind
calling me at that time.”
“I can do that much for one who has been through what you have,” the
farmer replied with a significant glance at his guest’s clothing.
Ira smiled. “My garments are a bit soiled and torn,” he admitted, “but I
hope they will look a little better before I go back to camp.”
Then a woman’s voice could be heard from the next room. “Let him go into
the front chamber, pa, and send his clothes here by you. I will clean
and mend them while he sleeps.”
“Thank you, good mistress,” the lad cried. “It is a case where a woman’s
hands can help me out of an awkward fix. Under your skilful fingers I
shall be able to return to the British encampment without a trace of the
work I have done this night for the Cause.”
Nor was he disappointed. It would have required sharp eyes, indeed, to
have discovered any evidences of mountain climbing upon his clothing
when he dressed himself a little before dawn.
A sharp ride down the road brought him to the place where he had left
the Hessian. He found the fellow fast asleep in a thicket, his horse
hitched to a near-by tree. Waking him, he asked in well-feigned anger:
“Hey, there, Hans, how long has this been going on?”
The trooper arose, rubbed his eyes sleepily, and stammered:
“I—I had only just laid down, sir. I knew it was most morning, when the
Yankees wouldn’t be likely to come now, and I was so tired.”
“How many times did I ride back here during the night, then?” Ira
demanded sternly.
The man looked puzzled for a moment, and then answered boldly:
“Three times, sir. I saw you every time.”
The young scout laughed heartily. “There is an old saying in our
language, Hans, to the effect that ‘a lie well stuck to is as good as
the truth.’ It may prove so in your case. Mount, and we’ll ride back to
camp.”
The sun was rising when they passed the pickets, and the first person
they saw beyond the guards was the captain of the engineer corps. He was
viewing his work of the previous day. Seeing the horsemen, he crossed
the enclosure to meet them. Understanding his purpose, and eager for the
interview, Ira reined his horse down to a walk. They soon met, and the
officer was the first to speak.
“You have taken an early ride this morning, Master Le Geyt,” he said.
“It was an all-night job,” the scout replied in a friendly tone. “Hans
and I have been five or six miles out into the country doing special
work for the king. I am on my way now to report to the general,” and,
putting spurs to his horse, he, followed by his attendant, rode to the
tent of the commander.
There he gave his steed over to the care of the trooper, who went off to
his own quarters. Watching him, while he stood waiting to be admitted to
the presence of General Burgoyne, Ira saw that the engineer halted and
held quite an extended conversation with him.
“It is certain he thought he saw me on the hill,” the lad muttered; “but
he won’t be so sure of it after talking with the Hessian. On finding
that the guns have been spiked, he’ll be in such a muddle that there’ll
be nothing said about our meeting.”
This prophecy was not quite correct. There was a single exception. The
engineer did mention the affair to Ira himself. Calling on him that
evening, after the second battery had been hoisted up on the mountain,
he first enjoined the utmost secrecy, and then said:
“I had a peculiar experience last night in connection with that first
battery. About ten o’clock I was enjoying a smoke, when I heard a
muffled click, click, up the mountain side. Wondering what was going on,
I climbed up, and found a fellow of about your size standing by the
cannon. When I asked his business, he said he was guarding the guns;
that the general had sent him there. I was certain then that it was you,
and felt quite sore because I had failed to post a guard. Hoping to put
myself right with the commander, I said that he should tell the general
I was up there to see that the cannon were safe. He promised to do so,
and I returned to the camp. The first inkling I had that it wasn’t you,
came when I saw you and the Hessian riding into the lines. I never once
suspected it might be some blasted Yankee, until my men reported that
the guns had been spiked. To think that I talked with the rascal, and
yet he was sharp enough to hoodwink me, fairly makes me boil. Why, I one
time had my sword drawn, and could have run him through, but yet let him
go. Don’t tell any one that I have been such a fool.”
“You may be sure I shan’t mention the incident to a single soul,” was
the truthful promise.
Elated as Ira was at his own escape from detection, he rejoiced even
more because General St. Clair had gained the delay in the movements of
the enemy which he had so much desired. General Burgoyne, when he found
he could not command the fort until a second battery had been placed on
the hill, countermanded the order given General Fraser to advance his
division to the rear of the Continentals.
It was not until a Tory, living on the Hubbardtown road, came into the
camp in the small hours of July fifth, with the startling tidings that
the Yankees were running off bag and baggage past his house, that a new
order was issued for the waiting forces to move. As the bearer of the
news offered to act as guide, the young scout was not disturbed, and,
therefore, it was not until after sunrise that he knew pursuit had been
made. He waited in much anxiety for the outcome, and was filled with
dismay when at noon a report came that General Fraser had overtaken and
defeated the retreating Yankees, capturing enormous quantities of
ammunition and stores.
He learned the real facts about the battle, however, a little later, and
from the lips of Dan Cushing. He had gone to meet his aids in a deep
cave on a rocky hill a mile or two below the British encampment, and
arrived there just in time to meet Dan, who had come from where the
engagement took place.
“Don’t you worry, Ira, ’bout the braggin’ those red-coats are doin’ in
the camp,” the boy began. “They’ll make a mole-hill look like a mountain
any time, ’specially if it’s in their favor. Now, the facts are these,
an’ I have them from some of the fellers who were in the fight: General
St. Clair left Colonel Seth Warren’s regiment in the rear to look out
for the British if they came chasin’ down after him. He was on the
Hubbardtown and Castleton road when General Fraser overtook him. To give
the main portion of the forces a chance to escape, the Colonel turned
and pitched into the red-coats. What’s more, he would have whipped them,
had not a reserved force of Hessians come up in the nick of time. That
turned the tide in the British favor, and our men had to run, but they
got away as did the others ahead of them. Our people are tearin’ up the
bridges, an’ droppin’ great trees ’cross the road as they go, an’ I’m
thinkin’ General Burgoyne will go mighty slow ’tween here an’ Fort
Edward.”
“I have a scheme in mind that will do more to hinder him than destroying
bridges or felling trees,” the leader said when the story was finished;
“but we can’t carry it out until we are several miles below here, near
our next meeting-place. When you move down to it, provide yourselves
with pick-axes, shovels, and iron bars. I’ll get a day off in some way,
and though we will have as hard and as big a job as we ever undertook, I
doubt if we’ll ever do another turn that will mean more for the Cause,”
and with this mystifying statement he hurried away.
A week passed. During that time General Burgoyne garrisoned the
abandoned fort at Ticonderoga, and moved his main force down the
Hubbardtown road. His progress was necessarily slow, since he was
compelled to clear the way, and rebuild bridges before he could make any
headway. At length he arrived at a passage between two hills, so narrow
and so completely blocked with logs and bowlders, that it was evident
his engineering corps had at least a two-days task to remove the
obstruction. Here his patience became exhausted, and he sent for Ira.
“Master Le Geyt,” he said when the young scout was in his presence, “I
am tired of this snail’s pace at which I am obliged to crawl. Is there
not some other route I could follow, and so get rid of these obstacles
the rebels have thrown in my way?”
The guide shook his head. “Not without a long detour which would consume
more time than clearing the way,” he declared. “There is a big swamp on
ahead, and the only hope of getting through it is to keep along this
road.”
“Is there not at least some way we can get around these hills?”
continued the exasperated commander. “Even if we are twenty-four hours
doing it we shall save time. Captain Howell of my engineering corps
declares it will take two days, if not longer, to remove these latest
obstructions we have encountered.”
It suddenly occurred to Ira that here might be his opportunity to get a
few hours to himself, as he had been hoping to do, therefore he replied
quickly:
“I might take a tramp around the hills and see. It’s worth looking into,
sir.”
“I wish you would, and take Captain Howell with you. He can readily
reckon the length of time required to clear the way.”
This was something on which the lad had not counted; but if disturbed by
it, he gave no sign.
“Very well, sir,” he replied. “I will see the captain at once, and get
away as soon as I can.”
“It is odd,” he said to himself while searching for the officer, “that I
should for the second time be forced to fool that man. But I must do it,
if I’m to accomplish the job on hand, and it’s time it was attended to.”
He had formed no definite plan of action when he found the captain, and
they began their tramp together through the forest. It was just after
noon, and they went to the eastward, as the hill on that side of the
road seemed more likely, from its shape, to have a pass through it.
This proved to be a fact. After walking two miles they arrived at a
narrow valley, through which ran a small brook. Following this they came
into some lowlands, over which they made their way to the road at a
point where it wound into a swamp heavily wooded.
“We are beyond the great barricade,” the captain announced as they
stepped out upon the road.
“Yes,” his companion admitted. “Do you think the route we have come over
is feasible for the army?”
“It can be made so with less trouble than is possible on the other road.
But let us go into the swamp a short distance; so far as I can see the
way is open.”
“But you can’t see very far,” Ira replied. “Two rods away the road
twists entirely out of sight. To my mind, it is just the place where the
Yankees would be likely to put in their obstructions thick and fast.”
“We can at least look at it.”
They were soon at the turn, and found, just beyond, was a huge pile of
fallen trees. Over these they clambered and continued on to the next
bend, where was a second collection of fallen timber.
“I wonder if it is like this throughout the entire swamp?” the officer
growled as he and his comrade made their way with difficulty over the
second pile of hewn trees to the clear road beyond.
“I believe so,” the young scout answered.
This surmise proved correct; over more than a score of such stacks of
timber they were forced to crawl before arriving at the lower edge of
the swamp. By this time the sun had set, and with a shrug of his
shoulders the captain said:
“I’m too tired to go back over those barricades to-night. Isn’t there
some place on this side where we can find shelter?”
His guide was silent a moment as though thinking, and then replied:
“Yes. Come on!”
Instead of continuing on the road as the officer had expected, the lad
struck into the woods on the left, where the ground was still of a
swampy nature. But, leaping from log to log, he led the way with a
rapidity that made it difficult for the Britisher to keep pace with him,
and impossible to carry on any conversation.
After traveling for a few rods they lost sight of the road, and then,
instead of decaying logs, they found trees which had been felled so that
they lay end to end, clearly to furnish a firm footing for any who
wished to go deeper into the forest. If the engineer noted the
singularity of this circumstance, he had no chance to comment upon it,
for Ira was still a rod or more in the lead. At length, however, he
stopped and allowed the captain to come up with him. They were then on
the edge of a sluggish creek of considerable width and depth.
“What does this mean?” the captain demanded. “What have you come here
for, jumping from log to log like a frog? We cannot ford this stream.”
“We don’t need to,” his guide replied. “We’ll go down a bit,” and as he
spoke the lad bent over, searching with his hands until he found a rope.
Pulling on this, he drew out from under the overhanging bushes, a small
canoe.
“Get in,” he said, holding it steady for his companion to embark.
“You have been here before,” Captain Howells remarked as he sat down in
the light craft.
“Certainly, or I should not have known the way.”
As he stepped in, cast off the rope, and took up the paddle, the young
scout added:
“Of course I wasn’t sure of finding the boat here. Some one else might
have used it, or a freshet carried it away. There was a risk in coming;
but this course will take us to the nearest house where we can pass the
night, so I concluded to run the chances.”
He was already paddling down the stream, which soon turned sharply to
the eastward, and a little farther on plunged into a narrow gorge with a
low, hollow sound that could now be plainly heard.
“There are falls ahead,” the engineer cried in some alarm.
“Yes; but we shall not go over them. Look on the right side, and you
will see a log cabin at the foot of the south cliff. We shall stop
there.”
In another moment he dexterously swung the canoe into a little basin
just below the hut, exclaiming:
“Here we are!”
Springing out, he steadied the craft while his comrade leaped ashore.
Securing the boat he led the way into the building, saying:
“This was built a few years ago by a half-crazy old fellow who gained a
livelihood by hunting and fishing. Since he died it has been public
property for those who know of it. I have been here now and then with
others on ’coon hunts. We’ll gather some fir boughs for a bed, and it
won’t be a bad place in which to pass the night.”
From their knapsacks they carried they first satisfied their hunger, and
then collected the material for beds. In doing this it was necessary to
approach near the place where the creek made its downward plunge, and
Ira said carelessly:
“How easy it would be to dam the stream here.”
“Yes; but if you did that it would flood the whole swamp.”
“How deep?”
“That would depend on your dam. As the water is now standing on the
surface nearly everywhere, you would get nearly a foot of water for each
twelve inches dam.”
“Four feet here then, would give the same depth through the forest?”
“Practically, unless there is some other place where the water can run
off.”
“You are up in all these things,” the young scout continued with a
laugh. “I fancy you can tell to an hour, how long it would take for the
water to rise until it overflowed the dam again.”
“Not exactly,” the engineer confessed, “since I do not know the exact
dimensions of the swamp. But the stream is deep, and the land low. It
would fill fast, and in a few days be impassable.”
“There isn’t much stuff here with which to make a dam,” Ira said in a
careless tone.
“Oh, yes there is,” the captain insisted. “Give me a half-dozen men, and
in a day I could build all that would be needed.”
“I’d like to know how you would do it,” Ira cried.
“No trouble at all,” retorted the officer, warming up to his subject.
“Do you see this big tree? I’d cut that down so it would fall across the
gorge. Then I’d go on the other side, and fell the big hemlock. It could
be done in such a way that it would interlock with the other, and the
two trunks, when trimmed, would give you the timbers against which you
could place your barricade. That I would build of posts, driving them
side by side across the bed of the stream. It won’t take many, and after
stuffing the cracks with leaves and moss from the forest, I would pack
in dirt and stones from the hillside until it was water-tight. I wish I
never had a harder job than that.”
His comrade shook his head. “It is all in knowing how,” he commented.
“What would be easy for you, would be hard for some one else.” And then
the discussion was dropped for the time. But after they were lying on
their rude beds, Ira suddenly raised his head to ask:
“I say, captain, suppose the Yankees should catch on to this thing.”
“What thing?” the officer asked, quickly rising.
“Why, building a dam across the creek here. It would not only flood the
swamp, but the road as well. We couldn’t get the army along until the
waters subsided.”
“Bet your life we couldn’t,” the engineer replied. “It is a great
scheme; but then a Yankee would never think of it,” and he settled back
on his bed.
Not so with his comrade. He appeared uneasy about something, and sat up.
Then he arose and went to the door, fumbled with the bar that fastened
it, as though making it more secure; in reality to remove it entirely.
After this he went to the window and looked out.
“What’s the matter?” the officer asked sleepily.
“I can’t get it out of my head about those Yankees coming here to-night
to build that dam,” was the reply. “I was now looking out to see if we
could jump through the window if they should appear.”
“Oh! that is all right. But how about getting up the sides of the gorge.
Can we do that?”
“Yes, after a fashion. It is better than taking to the swamp in the
night-time. I shall go that way, if needs must.”
Ira now returned to his bed and lay down, but tossed restlessly about,
which uneasiness his companion soon shared. At length they both dozed,
but only to be awakened within a short time by the sound of voices on
the river below them.
“There is the hut! Be careful, and keep well in to the bank, or we shall
go down the falls!” one voice exclaimed.
“Hello! there’s another canoe. Some one else is here!” another cried.
“Hush! The red-coats may have a guard here, and we will be able to
capture them,” a third said in a lower tone.
Both sleepers were now awake; but Ira, for reasons of his own, kept
quiet, and breathed heavily. The next instant the captain leaped to his
feet, and came noiselessly over to him. Shaking the lad vigorously, he
whispered:
“Quick, Master Le Geyt! The Yankees have come, and we must run for it!”
The young scout arose, and the officer, running to the open window,
jumped out, evidently expecting his companion to follow, as he ran
toward the hill. At its foot he paused, and looked back. Several dark
forms were near the cabin, and in another instant the door was burst
open.
“There they go,” some one shouted, and then two or three guns were
discharged.
One of the bullets whistled dangerously near the Britisher’s head, and,
believing he had been seen, he clambered on as stealthily as possible.
Gaining the summit, he stopped again and listened. There were shouts to
be heard, and lights at the hut; but no sound of any one following, and,
concluding that his comrade had been killed or captured, the engineer
plunged on down the other side of the ridge, disappearing in the thicket
at its base.
Could he have looked back, it would have been possible to see Ira
shaking hands heartily with the six persons who came into the building,
three of whom were his own comrades, and the others no less loyal to the
Cause. Had he remained in hearing he would have heard Dan Cushing’s
explanation:
“We were at the lower edge of the swamp-road, waitin’ for you, Ira, when
we saw you comin’ along with that British officer. We hid until you came
up, an’ heered him ask you ’bout a place to stay all night. I caught
your sign ’fore you took to the swamp, an’ followed to the creek,
findin’ the note you put in the tree ’fore the captain jined ye. When
that had been read we knew what to do, an’ that red-coat has gone over
the ridge as if the devil was after him!”
All laughed, and then Ira said:
“Let him go. He has done us a good turn, for he gave me some ideas about
dam-building which we’ll make use of to-morrow.”
They were at the task early in the morning, following many of the
suggestions of the British engineer. One of the men who had accompanied
the lads had some practical knowledge of dam-building, however, and
neatly hewed two edges of the posts before they were driven into place,
thus securing joints that were almost water-tight. Heavy moss from the
forest, and gravel brought in baskets from the hill-side, made up the
filling, and before the workers sought their well-earned rest they knew
that the water was rising.
The dam in the forest, which indirectly was to hinder the advance of the
British army for days, had become an accomplished fact.