THE MINUTE BOYS OF THE WYOMING VALLEY
[Illustration: “‘SO TRUE AS I LIVE, I WILL SHOOT.’”]
THE
MINUTE BOYS OF THE
WYOMING VALLEY
BY
JAMES OTIS
AUTHOR OF
“MINUTE BOYS OF THE GREEN MOUNTAINS,” “MINUTE BOYS
OF THE MOHAWK VALLEY,” ETC., ETC.
Illustrated by
A. BURNHAM SHUTE
[Illustration]
BOSTON
DANA ESTES & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1906_
BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
THE MINUTE BOYS OF THE
WYOMING VALLEY
_COLONIAL PRESS
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U. S. A._
FOREWORD
It was the good fortune of the writer, a short time ago, to find
in manuscript form a story--perhaps a diary would be more nearly
correct--of that which the boys of Wyoming Valley did during the year
1778, while their fathers were fighting the battles of the Revolution
elsewhere.
It is not necessary to explain how that manuscript came into my
possession, nor to speak of the doubts which I had concerning the
accuracy of the information given, because in the last case every
statement made by the lad Jonathan Ogden has been verified by the works
of such historians as Fiske, Lossing, and Bancroft.
It is essential, however, to a thorough understanding of the conditions
existing in that portion of what is now the State of Pennsylvania,
known as Wyoming Valley, to state as briefly as may be the troubles and
trials which fell to the lot of the settlers there prior to the opening
of the War of the Revolution.
Every fellow finds fault, and with good cause, at being forced to stop
in the midst of a narrative to read historical matters which are of no
very great interest, even though they may serve to enlighten him as to
the reason of the movements of the several characters; therefore, as
the editor, rather than the author, I propose to give a synopsis of the
story of the settlement of Wyoming Valley, as set down by Lossing in
his “Field Book of the Revolution.”
In 1753 an association was formed in Connecticut, called the
Susquehanna Company, the object of which was to plant a colony in
Wyoming Valley. At that time Connecticut claimed, by virtue of its old
charter, the northeastern portion of the State of Pennsylvania. In
order to strengthen its title to the land, the association purchased
from the Six Nations the entire valley of Wyoming and the country
westward to the Allegheny River.
Shortly afterward another Connecticut association, called the Delaware
Company, purchased from the Indians land upon the Delaware River at
a place called Cushetunk, and began a settlement there in 1757, but,
owing to the French and Indian War, little was done until 1762, when
two hundred colonists began building and planting near the mouth of
Mill Creek, a little above the present site of Wilkesbarre.
The reader must remember that at this time the people of Pennsylvania
looked upon both these companies as intruders, and proceeded to serve
writs of ejectment upon them, but without any very satisfactory
results.
Then came the massacre of 1763, when the Connecticut settlers were
killed or driven away by the Delawares.
Now, Governor Penn, claiming that this valley of Wyoming belonged to
him by virtue of his original grant, and desirous of avoiding legal
complications, bargained with the Six Nations for this same land which
they had sold to the Connecticut associations, and received from them a
deed to the same.
Thus it was that in 1769 the State of Pennsylvania claimed the Wyoming
Valley by virtue of its original grant and the purchase just effected;
the State of Connecticut claimed the same territory through its
ancient grant; the Susquehanna Company laid claims to it because of
the permission granted by the State of Connecticut and the purchase
from the Six Nations, while the Delaware Company believed it had equal
rights with the others.
Therefore were there four claimants, each of whom was trying to
establish a colony, and at the same time drive away those whom it was
claimed were intruders.
It can be understood what confusion necessarily arose under such
conditions, and it is needless to attempt to give here all the disputes
and quarrels which ensued.
Each claimant built a fort or blockhouse where was the headquarters of
his particular faction, and from which they sallied out in absolute
warfare against the other dwellers in the valley. In 1770 members of
the Susquehanna Company, called by the people of Pennsylvania “the
Yankees,” fought a pitched battle with the “Pennymites,” in which
several men were killed, and no less than six times, between that date
and the opening of the War of the Revolution, was the valley the scene
of hotly contested, bloody engagements.
All the claimants appealed to the Congress at Philadelphia for such an
act as would finally settle the disputes, but the Revolution was begun,
and little attention paid to those colonists who were squabbling for
the ownership of a small territory when there was so much land on every
hand to be had almost for the asking.
When the war broke out, the Assembly of Connecticut forbade further
immigration into Wyoming Valley, but yet settlers went there, as if
believing only in that one spot could a refuge be found from the wrath
of the king and the bloodthirsty savages. In addition to that, people
came from the Hudson and Mohawk Valleys, who had no sympathy with
either of the parties in what was then known as the Pennymite war, and
nearly all of them were avowed Tories.
“In the meanwhile two companies of regular troops, of eighty-two men
each, had been raised in the valley, under the resolution of Congress,
commanded by Captains Ransom and Durkee, and were attached to the
Connecticut line. The Wintermoots, who had purchased land toward the
head of the valley and upon the old banks of the Susquehanna, at a
place where bubbled forth a large and living spring of pure water,
erected a strong fortification known as Wintermoot’s fort.”
Because these Wintermoots were avowed Tories, those of the settlers
who had espoused the American Cause, met in town meeting and resolved
that it had “become necessary for the inhabitants of the town to erect
suitable forts as a defence against the common enemy.”
The original settlers, as the people of Pennsylvania called themselves,
were, to a man, in favor of the Revolution, and this declaration as
to fortifications was the first step taken in Wyoming to further and
strengthen the cause of liberty.
Lossing says: “A fort was accordingly built, about two miles above
Wintermoot’s, under the supervision of the families of Jenkins and
Harding, called Fort Jenkins. Forty Fort (so called from the first
forty Yankees, pioneers of the Susquehanna settlers in Wyoming), then
little more than a weak blockhouse, was strengthened and enlarged,
and sites for other forts were fixed on at Pittstown, Wilkesbarre,
and Hanover. It was agreed in town meeting that these several
fortifications should be built by the people ‘without either fee or
reward from the town.’”
Such, in brief, was the condition of affairs in Wyoming Valley in
1776. And now, with one more extract from the records of the past,
these dry, but necessary, matters of history shall come to an end, save
when Jonathan Ogden refers to them in the story which he himself wrote.
On the tenth of March, 1777, the following resolutions were adopted at
a town meeting held at Wilkesbarre:
“_Voted_, That the first man that shall make fifty weight of good
saltpetre in this town shall be entitled to a bounty of ten pounds
lawful money, to be paid out of the town treasury.
“_Voted_, That the selectmen be directed to dispose of the grain in the
hands of the treasurer or collector in such a way as to obtain powder
and lead to the value of forty pounds lawful money, if they can do the
same.”
JAMES OTIS.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE COMPANY 11
II. THE SIEGE 29
III. SIMON BARTLETT 47
IV. AFTER THE BATTLE 66
V. THE SORTIE 85
VI. THE SECOND ATTACK 104
VII. MONOCASY ISLAND 123
VIII. WICKED FOLLY 140
IX. DISASTER 159
X. PLANS FOR THE FUTURE 178
XI. A COMRADE IN DISTRESS 196
XII. SAVING ELIAS 214
XIII. DEFENDING THE CAVE 233
XIV. UNEXPECTED AID 252
XV. A FORTUNATE FIND 270
XVI. ELIAS SHENDLE’S PLAN 289
XVII. FORTY FORT 308
XVIII. THE REFUGEES 327
XIX. FREEING THE VALLEY 349
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
“‘SO TRUE AS I LIVE, I WILL SHOOT’” (_page 25_) _Frontispiece_
“I WAS ABLE TO GET A GRIP UPON THE NAKED MURDERER’S THROAT” 51
“‘WATCHING HIS CHANCE, DANIEL WENT UP TO HER’” 76
“THE THIRD MOHAWK FELL, NEVER TO RISE AGAIN” 94
“GILES MARCH AND I EACH TOOK HIM BY THE HAND” 121
“‘STAND FIRM ... AND THE VICTORY IS OURS’” 167
“ONE OF WHOM A PAINTED BRUTE HELD HIGH IN HIS HAND” 219
“TAKING STEADY AIM ... I PULLED THE TRIGGER” 241
THE MINUTE BOYS OF THE WYOMING VALLEY
CHAPTER I.
THE COMPANY
I am not claiming even to myself that I, Jonathan Ogden, who was just
turned sixteen years of age on the first day of June, in the year of
grace 1778, was any more ardent in the desire to do whatsoever I might
toward breaking the shackles which the king had forged upon us than any
other of my acquaintance in or around Wilkesbarre, but it so chanced
that when we learned of the doings of the Indians nearabout Conewawah,
which was seemingly good proof the red villains had their faces turned
toward the valley, the idea of us lads banding ourselves together came
into my mind before my comrades had hit upon it.
As a matter of course, even while we were having a war of our own and
among ourselves, we had heard of the Minute Boys of the Green Mountains
and of Lexington, and more than once had I burned with the desire to
start some such organization in the valley; but what with writs of
ejectment here, and attacks by the Tories there, it seemed as if we
lads had our hands full in obeying the commands of our elders, without
scheming to push ahead for ourselves.
When we learned that Brant and his warriors, with the Johnsons, the
Butlers, and their Tory following, were looking with unfriendly eyes
toward our little settlements, it seemed of a verity that then was come
the time when we few lads might do the work of men, and truly was it
needed.
We of the valley had sent forth as soldiers an hundred and sixty-four
men, who had already done brave work in New Jersey. When that force
marched away, I question if an able-bodied man, of sufficient age to
be liable for military duty, had been left at home. We had old men,
cripples, and invalids, numbering perhaps seventy-five, and they, with
the women, made up the entire list which could be counted on for the
defence of our homes.
We in Wilkesbarre knew to our sorrow that, when it was apparent to all
the world what the Johnsons and the Butlers would do, our fathers and
neighbors in the army pleaded for furloughs in order that they might
defend their homes; but such permission had either been refused, or no
answer given to the request.
When General Schuyler wrote to the Congress, explaining how helpless
were the people of the valley, and asking that some steps be taken
toward our defence, a resolution was passed, generously allowing that
we raise troops among ourselves, and find “our own arms, accoutrements,
and blankets.”
On learning this, we all questioned whether our representatives in
Congress really understood the condition of affairs when such a
resolution was passed, for, if they did, then was it cruel sarcasm to
give us permission to raise troops when there were none in the valley
left of military age.
All this, as I thus set it down, seems a roundabout way of coming at
my story. What I should write, and without so many words, is that on a
certain morning in June, meeting Elias Shendle as I was driving the cow
to pasture, I said to him that which came into my mind on the moment:
“What say you, Elias, to raising a company of lads here in the valley,
who shall show that they can do the work of men?”
Elias stared at me with open mouth while one might have counted ten,
and then replied doubtfully:
“I question, Jonathan, whether you could find six lads of our age, if
you spent a full week in the search.”
While Elias was hesitating, the purpose so suddenly come into my mind
was strengthened, and, determined to prove that the suggestion I had
made could readily be carried out, I forgot about the cow, leaving her
to wander as she would, while I said:
“Sit you down, Elias, and let us name over the lads hereabout from
thirteen to sixteen years old. If peradventure we can find twenty,
would it not be better those twenty were banded together with a single
purpose--the defence of our homes, if nothing more--than that we remain
idly sucking our thumbs, while Johnson and his Tories, or Brant and his
wolves, descend upon us?”
Elias was a lad slow to think, but quick of action once he had grasped
an idea, and for the moment he seemingly found it impossible to
remember a single name, but, before thirty minutes were gone by, we had
a list of twenty-two lads whom I knew could, if they were so disposed,
act the part of soldiers, and all of whom were true to the Cause.
That was the beginning of the movement hatched by Elias and me, which
resulted in the forming of a company of lads who styled themselves the
Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley.
Some of our elders gave us encouragement by word of mouth. More than
that, the most generous could not do, for we had already exhausted our
resources in providing for those who had joined the American army; but
a goodly number of the people laughed outright when we proposed to take
upon ourselves, so far as might be, the defence of the settlements.
A motley party it was when we were first assembled, but I question
whether in many of the colonies could have been found an equal number
of lads who were more earnest in their purpose, and more ready to
brave hardships and fatigue than we.
Since it is not probable that this poor apology for a history of our
doings will be read by any who knew us, there is no good reason why I
set down all the names here, save as it shall be necessary to speak of
what this or that one did during the years which followed, for until
the colonies were free, we Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley remained
together, an independent company even after we joined the Continental
Army.
As I was the one who had proposed that we band ourselves together, my
comrades made me their captain, and Elias Shendle was the lieutenant.
Other officers were not needed.
As a matter of course, we all owned muskets of some kind, for lads of
our age were forced to seek food in the forest, and, without meaning
to boast of our skill, I dare venture to say that two out of every
three could kill a squirrel by “winding him,” which is to say that we
could bring him down without inflicting a wound. We were accustomed to
hardships of every kind; it was not considered a serious matter, save
when there might be danger from Indians, for us to go so far afield
as to find it necessary to camp in the woods overnight, whatever the
season, and, therefore, were we in good bodily condition to take up
such duties as we voluntarily, and in the face of the laughter of our
neighbors and friends, proposed to assume.
And now that I may arrive the more quickly to the setting down of our
deeds, rather than our intentions, let him who reads imagine that we
twenty-two lads bound ourselves to come together in the half-ruined hut
which had been built by Isaac Bassett, and abandoned when he journeyed
with the other Tories to join Johnson, every morning at seven o’clock,
in order to drill and otherwise put ourselves in as near soldierly
shape as might be come at by me, who had no knowledge whatsoever of
military matters.
In three days we had arrived at that point where all of us understood
the necessity of obeying without question a word of command, but more
than that had not been accomplished, and then was come the time when
all those people who had ridiculed the idea of our attempting anything
of the kind began to realize that we might be of valuable assistance.
A family by the name of Dykeman, living five miles or more from
Wilkesbarre, were murdered or carried away into captivity by the
Indians, and then it was that we were needed, for at once every man and
woman remaining in the settlement set about making preparations for
defence, by building stockades here or there where it seemed probable
they might be needed. On the instant we were called upon to man this
fort of logs, or that fortified house, that the others might work in
safety, and thus, without drill or study, as it were, did we become,
in our own eyes at least, veritable soldiers.
Our third station was at Fort Jenkins, about two miles above
Wintermoot’s Fort, and there we had been asked to go because of word
brought in that a party of twelve or fifteen, white men and Indians,
had lately been seen entering this resort of the Tories.
We were to the northward of all the other fortifications belonging to
our friends,--meaning those who were loyal to the American Cause,--and
while opposite our station, directly across the river, were the three
Pittstown stockades, we could have no communication with them save by
crossing the rapid-running stream, which would require, owing to the
current, some considerable time.
In other words, we lads, at whom the people of Wilkesbarre laughed,
because we had proposed to set ourselves up as soldiers, were really
holding, or pretending to hold, the entrance to the valley, and to do
which we had not above twenty rounds of ammunition apiece.
As I have said, it was rumored that white men and Indians had been seen
entering Wintermoot’s Fort stealthily, and therefore they could well
be considered enemies. Whether they had left that place or not I was
determined to find out, because it stood us in hand to know in what
force were our neighbors.
We Minute Boys were the sole occupants of the fort, and if the Tories
took it into their heads that we might in time prove dangerous, there
was every reason to believe we would speedily be beset.
I talked the matter over with Elias Shendle during the first hour after
our arrival at the fort, and before we were fairly settled down. He
was of my opinion, that our first duty consisted in ascertaining how
many of those whom we had every reason to consider enemies were in
the vicinity, and because it would not look well for the captain of a
company to _order_ one of his men to do a certain piece of work, since
he might be charged with not daring to perform it himself, I proposed
alone to make what military men would call a reconnaissance.
To this Elias made most emphatic protest, claiming that because of
having been given command of the company I had no right to leave it
in order to do the work of a scout, and he wound up his argument by
declaring that he himself would undertake the work.
Well, the result of it was that as soon as night came Elias crept
secretly away, for we were not minded any of our comrades should
know of the work in hand, lest they be eager to have a share in what
was certainly a hazardous venture, since we knew full well that
Wintermoot’s people would not hesitate to kill any whom they might find
spying upon them.
I went with him to the small gate of the stockade, for it must be
remembered that these so-called forts in the valley were really
nothing but blockhouses enclosed in a fence of logs, and, watching his
opportunity when none was looking, he went out, saying, as he did so:
“I shall be back before sunrise, if I come at all.”
“Ay, lad, but you must come!” I cried.
As if seized with a certain timorousness at the intimation in his
own words of the danger which was to be faced, he made no reply, and
suddenly was swallowed up in the gloom.
Not until he had departed from view did I fully realize how hazardous
might be this venture which he was making, and asked myself whether it
was warranted.
Such speculations should have been indulged in before he left me, but
it must be remembered that I was very far from being a soldier, and
too prone to consider first my own wishes and then the advisability of
doing this or that thing.
Clambering up on the logs which were fastened inside the stockade
perhaps three or four feet below the top, in order that the sentinels
might have a secure foothold, I strained my eyes in the direction of
that nest of Tories, as if expecting to see some one emerge from the
thicket, and then suddenly was like to have cried aloud in surprise,
for a dark form came swiftly toward the main gate of the stockade,
crouching as if expecting to be followed by a bullet.
“Who’s there?” I whispered, leaning over the top of the logs without
realizing that I was exposing myself to possible death, and proving
that I possessed very little of that caution which the captain of a
company should display.
The stranger made no reply, but continued to advance, and again I
hailed him, crying out that I would shoot unless he explained his
purpose.
Whereupon he halted, throwing himself flat upon the ground, as does one
who knows there are enemies on his trail, and asked, in a low, hoarse
whisper:
“Who are you?”
“Jonathan Ogden,” I replied, “captain of the Minute Boys of Wyoming
Valley, and we are holding this fort.”
“Let me in! I beg you to let me in!” he cried. “I have twice been
within a hand’s breadth of death, and the savages are close behind.”
As a matter of course, my comrades in the fort had heard this
conversation, for we were so lately come as to be on the alert for the
lightest token of danger.
Therefore it was I had simply to give the word that the smaller gate
be unbarred, at the same moment that I leaped down and stood ready
to receive the stranger, as well as any who might take the chance of
following him.
All this shows how poor an apology I was for a soldier, since, with
more knowledge, I would have insisted that he give an account of
himself, lest I be admitting one who would work us harm.
A single glance at the stranger was sufficient to show, however
suspicious I may have been of his intentions, that we had nothing to
fear from him.
A lad hardly as old as myself, I should say, and what with long running
and terror he was so nearly used up as to be unable to stand erect,
but sank to the ground, as if his legs refused longer to perform their
office, immediately the gate of the stockade was closed behind him.
I waited while one might have counted twenty, perhaps, for him to gain
his breath, and then asked for explanations.
His name was Daniel Hinchman, so he said, and he lived on the slope of
the hills two miles or more to the westward of Wintermoot’s Fort. He
and his sister Esther were alone in their home about an hour before
sunset, when five or six Indians, whom he believed to be of the Mohawk
tribe, were seen skulking about the dwelling.
Yielding to his sister’s entreaties, instead of making any attempt at
defending the home, he set out with her, thinking to gain the stockades
at Pittstown, although there was no idea in his mind as to how it might
be possible for him to cross the river.
Not twenty minutes before coming within sight of our stockade, so he
said, the savages suddenly burst upon him, seizing his sister, and one
of them would have cut him down with a hatchet, but that he leaped
aside just as the weapon was descending. Then, and I never came to know
exactly how, he succeeded in outstripping them, although twice during
the flight did he have good proof that the painted fiends were close
behind him.
That was the story, as he told it little by little, now choking with
emotion as he thought of his sister’s fate, and again giving way to
passion because he had not uselessly sacrificed his own life in the
attempt to save her from captivity.
“You will go with me in search of her, will you not?” he cried,
springing to his feet, as if expecting that on the instant we would
send out force sufficient to do as he wished, and half a dozen of the
more impetuous ones sprang toward him as if ready to join in a pursuit
which would have been as reckless as it was useless.
Then, for the first time, did I find it difficult to hold myself as
should the captain of a company; but it was not to be expected that
these lads, who called themselves Minute Boys, could, on hearing
such a story as had just been told, realize all the conditions and
possibilities. Even to this day I am unable to say why it was that
suddenly the true situation presented itself to me, and in reply to
their clamors that the gate be opened at once, I made reply:
“We have been sent here, lads, to hold this fort so long as may be
against those who would do murder in the valley. By leaving our post
of duty in order to aid one person, we are putting in jeopardy a
thousand, mayhap, who depend upon our vigilance.”
“But are we to stand here idle while those red wolves carry into
captivity one of our neighbors?” Giles March, a member of the company,
cried, angrily.
And I replied as hotly as he had spoken:
“What chance would we have if all of us went out in pursuit this
moment? Think you, Giles March, that we are any match in woodcraft for
those who have done this thing? In the darkness we could never find the
trail, and I question if Daniel Hinchman is able to lead you to the
place where his sister was taken.”
“And because there is a chance we may not succeed, you, calling
yourself the captain of this company, count on staying here behind
a stockade?” Giles cried, passionately, and his words rankled in my
heart, for it was much the same as if he had called me a coward.
“Because I am the captain of this company, it is my duty to hold you
all here within the fort, at least, until another day shall come.
Even at this moment is Elias Shendle trying to make his way toward
Wintermoot’s Fort, and we know beyond a peradventure that he must be
nearabout where the Mohawks are, in ignorance of their presence. He is
the dearest friend I have in the valley, and yet I would neither go
myself, nor allow one of you, to warn him of the danger, because of the
duty we owe the people who sent us here.”
“And what may Elias Shendle be doing outside the stockade?” Giles March
asked, angrily.
I could do no less at that time than explain why the lad had gone, else
might I have had a mutiny on my hands before I was well in command of a
company which, I hoped, would one day perform great deeds in behalf of
their relatives and friends.
Immediately, and as I might have expected, there was a conflict of
opinions boldly expressed as to the wisdom of weakening our small
company by sending out scouts, and, to my dismay, I realized that
at the very moment when it was needed that we exercise the utmost
vigilance, and carry ourselves like soldiers so nearly as might be, was
a mutiny brewing.
Nearly half the company were in favor of going out immediately with
Daniel Hinchman to search for the savages, who could conceal themselves
as quickly and as thoroughly as a squirrel might in a dead oak, and a
goodly portion of the remainder were becoming timorous, or so it seemed
to me, because Elias had left us.
At that moment I was convinced that the Minute Boys of the Wyoming
Valley could not be kept together as an organization while I remained
at its head, and I could have cried with vexation because this project
of mine was like to come to so speedy an end, through my inability to
hold the lads to their duty as I should have done.
Daniel Hinchman, quite naturally, urged eagerly that we go out in
search of his sister, and his entreaties, to which, because of the
grief in his heart, I could make no protest, only served to add fuel to
the flame of insubordination which had been kindled so quickly.
Giles March, quick to see how this poor, grieving lad was weakening
my authority, urged his prayers, and I believe of a verity that, had
I delayed one full moment longer, the fort would have been abandoned,
some to follow Daniel, and others to set out for their homes, believing
we were all too weak to perform the work which had been undertaken.
The anger which possessed me at that instant was so overpowering I
gave no heed whatsoever to the fact that I was talking to friends; I
saw before me only those reckless spirits who would imperil all the
settlers in the valley, simply because of not being willing to wait and
understand the situation, and, priming my musket, I leaped in front
of the small gate, where I would be within a dozen paces of whosoever
should attempt to unbar the main entrance, as I cried:
“So true as I live, I will shoot, making every effort to kill, the lad
who shall attempt to leave this stockade on any pretext whatsoever! You
are to remain here at least one hour, that you may have time in which
to consider fully the situation, and then, if so be you are minded to
desert the post of duty at the very moment when your best efforts are
needed, I will say that I no longer claim, nor deserve the right, to
stand as your captain.”
“And in an hour my sister will have been carried so far away that there
can be no possibility of overtaking her!” Daniel Hinchman shouted,
passionately.
“In an hour your sister will be at Wintermoot’s Fort, if those who
seized her were, as you believe, Mohawks!” I cried, the idea coming
into my mind like a flash that whatsoever of savages were in that
vicinity must be in league with those of the Tory nest.
I could see that this shot told on Giles March, for his voice, which
had been loud and angry, was lowered on the instant, and, thinking to
follow up the advantage, if such it was, I said to them much like this:
“Elias Shendle is risking his life to learn that which it is necessary
you should know in order to keep yourselves alive, for, if the rumors
be true that a number of white men and Indians have lately gained
entrance to Wintermoot’s, then do we stand more than a good chance of
being attacked. Wait until he makes his report. Wait until we know
how much of danger menaces us and those whom we are trying to guard.
Think of what would be said in your homes if you came there hotfoot
in the night, crying out that you had deserted because your captain
refused to allow you to go in a useless effort to trail savages in the
darkness! Do you fancy they would believe you returned because of that,
or on account of having grown so timorous, and your hearts had turned
so white, you no longer dared to stand in a place of danger?”
I believe it was that which put an end for the time being to the
mutinous spirit which had been aroused so suddenly. At all events,
Giles March ceased his tongue-wagging, but I was disturbed because the
others gathered here and there in little knots, conversing in whispers
lest I should overhear, and I was no longer proud, as I had been, of
calling myself captain of the Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley.
Virtually left alone, I debated as to what my next move should be, but
realized, fortunately, that having said none should go out, I must,
so long as I remained in command, see that such order was obeyed.
Therefore, to the end that I might get the first glimpse of Elias when
he returned, I climbed up to the watcher’s post above the gate, where I
could keep an eye on those inside, as well as whosoever might come from
the outside, and there I stood during three hours or more, the only
sentinel, at a time when every one of us should have had his eyes and
ears open.
If the Indians were sufficiently bold to make an attack upon Daniel
Hinchman and his sister so near the settlement, then were they
prepared, if there was any show of success, to come against us who
were trying to hold the fort.
The hour of respite which I had asked for went by, and yet none came
to demand that I give up the office of captain, therefore did it seem
as if one danger was well-nigh passed, yet I remained as keenly on the
alert as to what my comrades might do, as to the possible movements of
the enemy.
It was near to midnight before any member of the company gave signs
of trusting in my plan, and then two or three of them came up on the
stockade, proposing to share with me the watch, whereupon I said, with
more of temper than was seemly:
“If you are ready to obey orders, as you should be after having agreed
to play the part of soldiers, then I am willing you go on duty.”
Perhaps half of our number heartily declared their confidence in
me, and voluntarily stationed themselves at different places around
the stockade on guard; but there was yet the dangerous element, or
so it seemed to me, who, because of their silence, much the same as
proclaimed that they were yet at odds with my plan, and this gave me
more than a little uneasiness.
I remained on duty near the gate throughout all that long night,
watching and praying, oh, so earnestly, for the coming of Elias; but
when the sun showed his face once more, our comrade was yet absent, and
there could be but one reason for his delay.