SOLDIERS OF THE WILDERNESS
“Uncle Joe, what brings you to Will’s Creek?”
Dave uttered the words as he hurried forward to meet his uncle, who was
standing outside the principal store in the tiny settlement.
“Dave!” ejaculated Joseph Morris, as he wrung his nephew’s hand warmly.
“I’ve been looking for either you or your father for a sennight. Is all
well at the trading-post?”
“So far, yes, but we don’t know how long it will be so.”
Mr. Morris shook his head slowly. “You are right, Dave, war is at hand
and I am afraid it will go hard with all who are on the frontier. You
have heard how we had to give up the new fort that was being built at
the Fork.”
“Yes, I came down with Ensign Ward, who was in command. But you haven’t
told me yet what brought you here.”
“I have brought Colonel Washington another horse. He has been trying
his best to fit out his expedition but can make small headway. Captain
Trent was going to have some pack horses ready for him but hardly
anybody would let the captain have what he wanted.”
“Then the people can’t be very patriotic!” burst out Dave. “Don’t they
understand the seriousness of the situation?”
“That’s the trouble. The majority of the folks don’t want another war
with France, and the most a good many wish to do is to act on the
defensive.”
“But now that we have been attacked----”
“It will wake the slow ones up, I trust, Dave.”
“We have received a notice to quit the post,” went on the youth. “That
is one reason why I have come on. Father wishes to find out what he is
to do.”
Dave brought forth the notice, which was written in French, and also
the English translation. Joseph Morris read the translation carefully,
and the youth explained that he and his parent suspected that it might
be a trick of the rascally Jean Bevoir.
“But the attack on the fort at the Fork was no trick,” answered Joseph
Morris. “Do you know what I think you had best do? Show this to Colonel
Washington.”
“I was thinking of that. Where can I find him?”
“Here he comes now.”
Joseph Morris pointed down the road whence Washington was approaching
on horseback, followed by a slave who had come along as his personal
attendant. At once Dave ran forward to meet the young commander.
“Ah, Master David, is it you?” said Washington, drawing rein. “How have
you been since you helped me at surveying?”
“I have been well, sir, thank you,” answered the youth. “I am glad to
see you are in command,” he added, with an honest smile.
“Are you?” Washington smiled in return. “Perhaps you would like to join
our ranks. If so, let me say there is plenty of room.”
“I may join before long, sir. But I would like to ask your advice about
something, if you can spare me a few minutes.”
“Certainly, David. What is it?”
“Here is a notice which was sent to my father at his trading-post. He
does not know if it is genuine or the work of a French rival named Jean
Bevoir. He sent me eastward to consult the authorities about it.” And
as Dave handed over the notice and the translation he gave a few more
of the particulars.
George Washington read the translation with deep interest and then
examined the signature on the original. For a minute his brow was knit
in study. “Come to my headquarters,” he said, at length. “I will
compare this signature with that I have of the French commander on
other documents.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Colonel Washington now turned to Joseph Morris. “I am glad to see that
you have brought in another horse,” he said. “I wish your neighbors
would do as well.”
Accompanied by his uncle, Dave followed Washington to his headquarters,
located at one end of the trading-post. Here the young commander’s
orderly brought forth a small trunk and from this Washington took
several legal looking documents. The signatures were compared by all
three of the party.
“I should pronounce this notice a forgery,” said Washington, breaking a
painful silence.
“That is also my opinion,” returned Joseph Morris. “The handwriting is
quite different.”
“Then father need not move?” cried Dave, impulsively.
“I do not say that,” replied Washington. “The French commander may not
take the trouble to notify him until he is at hand--as was the case
with Ensign Ward.”
“But an honest man will not stand up for a forgery.”
“That is true, and if the forger can be caught probably the French
commander will punish him severely. But that will not help your
father--if the French march upon his post.”
“Do you think they will do that?”
“It is hard telling what they will do now they have started this war.
Probably they will do as much damage as possible.”
“I hope you move against them soon.”
“I am impatient to do so, but I must wait for extra horses from
Winchester, and for extra men, too. The recruiting has again fallen
off, despite the governor’s offer of free homesteads to all who serve.”
“My son Henry wishes to go with you,” put in Joseph Morris. “He has
talked about it for two days.”
“Henry!” cried Dave. “If he goes, then I will go too.”
“That will give us two more fighting men,” laughed Washington. “And at
least one good shot,” he added, pointedly, remembering the bear hunt.
“My cousin can shoot as well as I, perhaps better,” returned Dave,
quickly. “He has brought down a bird on the wing more than once.”
“Then we must have him by all means--and you, too.”
In those days Washington was but twenty-two, full of youthful activity,
and bent upon getting together the necessary men by hook or by crook.
He continued to talk to Dave and the boy’s uncle for a good half hour,
and the upshot of the conversation was that Dave enlisted under him and
Joseph Morris promised that Henry should do the same.
When Dave returned to his uncle’s home he was glad to find Rodney much
better from the surgical operations which had been performed upon him.
The young man could now walk around fairly well and hoped inside of
another year to be as well as anybody. The doctoring had been very
expensive but Joseph Morris had paid the bills cheerfully.
“So you have gone and joined the militia!” exclaimed Mrs. Morris, after
embracing Dave. “And Henry is going, too! I never heard tell of such
doings! You’ll all be shot!”
“I hope not, Aunt Lucy. Somebody has got to play soldier, you know.”
“Play soldier? You won’t find it much play, Dave, mark my words. I
remember something of the other war! It was awful, the shooting and
killing of innocent men! I don’t see how I’m to spare Henry.”
“We’ll have to spare him, mother,” put in Joseph Morris. “Unless you’d
rather spare me.”
At this Mrs. Morris shook her head decidedly. “No, if one has got to
go let it be Henry. I suppose the two boys will be company for each
other. But, oh, I wish it wasn’t to be!” And of a sudden her eyes
filled with tears, which rolled down her cheeks and into the batch of
bread she was kneading.
Henry was off on a hunt and did not come in until nightfall. When told
what had been done, he threw up the coonskin cap he had been wearing.
“Huzza!” he shouted. “Just what I wanted! My, Dave, but won’t we just
knock over those Frenchmen when we get the chance!” And then, seeing
the tears starting to his mother’s eyes he ran and put his arms around
her neck. “Don’t worry, mother dear. I’ll come back safe and sound.”
“Perhaps, Henry, perhaps,” she sobbed. “But it’s hard to let you go.”
The next day there was a general leave taking and more crying on the
part of Mrs. Morris, and also little Nell, who joined in hardly knowing
what it was all about. All went as far as the creek with the boys and
Joseph Morris accompanied them to Will’s Creek post.
That day Dave and Henry were duly mustered in and given their first
drill. Only the officers were in uniform and the privates, for the
greater part, carried their own rifles. The service, it must be
confessed, was not a strict one and volunteers sometimes did largely
as they pleased. It was not until the War of the Revolution that the
colonies boasted of an army worthy of the name, although the raw,
undisciplined troops fought as bravely as any highly trained set of men.
Washington had sent a small body of men ahead, to clear a road through
the wilderness for Colonel Fry with the artillery. On the 29th of
April the young commander marched forth from Will’s Creek to join this
advance guard and hasten the work of making some sort of a highway. His
troops numbered a hundred and sixty, all strong, hardy fellows, used to
a life in the open, and handy with axe as well as gun.
But the trails were in a wretched condition, overgrown with brush and
vines and often so narrow that trees had to be chopped down to make
the path wide enough for a gun carriage to pass. All hands labored day
after day, clearing the trails, yet it was seldom that they could make
over four miles’ progress from sunrise to sunset.
“This is soldiering truly!” declared Henry, as he wiped the heavy
perspiration from his brow. “I should call this road building and
nothing else.”
“It’s all a part of the game, Henry,” answered Dave. “But I wish myself
we could get ahead a little faster.”
At length the little army reached the Youghiogheny River, and while
some of the men were building a bridge across the stream, Washington
went down the watercourse on a scouting expedition, taking with him
several of his command and an Indian guide, the latter promising to do
his best for the young commander if the latter would present him with
a ruffled shirt and a coat to match! The scouting expedition kept on
until some rapids were reached which could not be crossed, and then
Washington returned to camp.
Soon came in reports of the French. They were eight hundred strong and
were marching to meet the English. Another report, from the Indian
half-chief, followed, stating he would be with Washington in a few
days. That night it was learned that the French were within eighteen
miles. At once Washington placed his men at Great Meadows, had them dig
an entrenchment and placed them on strict guard. There was an alarm
during the night, but it amounted to nothing excepting that it made
several cowardly volunteers desert.
While Washington was at Great Meadows considering what he had best do
next, Mr. Gist arrived with information concerning a body of fifty of
the enemy, under La Forge, that had been seen within five miles of the
present camp. That same night came word from the half-king that more
tracks of the French had been seen and that the Indians were certain
the whole body of the enemy could not be far away.
“They intend to surprise us,” said Washington, grimly. “Well, we will
try to turn the tables on them.” Then he sent off a detachment of
seventy-five men in quest of La Forge’s command, and with forty others
started to join the half-king and learn, if possible, what the larger
part of the French army was doing.