THE SORTIE
There could be no question but that Master Bartlett had guessed rightly
as to the purpose of the savages, for there was no other way by which
we could account for the fire which had just been kindled.
They would not have camped so far from Wintermoot’s in order to break
a day’s march, and even if they had halted for the purpose of resting,
common prudence would have dictated that they do so secretly.
When I had reasoned all this out in my mind, and been forced to believe
the worst, it was no longer possible for me to think of ourselves as
Minute Boys, if by so acting we were forced to remain inside the fort.
Only one idea found lodgment in my brain, which was that we must, at
all hazards, do what we might toward aiding the unfortunate lads, who
were thus come to the stake while in pursuance of duty.
To remain idle within the stockade, as Master Bartlett seemed willing
to do, while they suffered such torture as those fiendish savages could
invent, seemed to me more heartless than anything I had ever heard,
and, forgetting my duty to the company of which I was captain, I cried,
passionately:
“It shall not be. We will not remain here with folded hands and allow
those murderers to do their cruel work!”
“Ay, it would not be if it were in our power to give them aid,” Master
Bartlett said, grimly. “Stephen Morley had fair chance to judge of the
strength of the red-skinned wolves, and from him we know that there
must, at the very least, be more than an hundred gathered around yonder
fire. To venture out now is but to play into their hands, leaving the
fort so illy manned that its capture would be certain.”
“We are stronger than before Stephen Morley’s party came in,” I said,
half to myself, and Master Bartlett replied:
“True, we are, and yet the number here is all too small for the defence
of the stockade.”
“If four or five should go out, there would still remain as many as our
people of Wilkesbarre believe to be here,” I continued, thinking aloud
rather than making a statement which demanded any answer, and the old
man asked with more of impatience than I had yet seen him display:
“What wild plan have you in mind, Jonathan Ogden? Don’t forget that you
are the captain of this company, and as such it is your duty to keep
them together.”
“A poor captain have I made,” I replied, hotly. “It were better for
all that the youngest of the party had been selected for the command.
If I should go out, you can serve the lads more to their advantage than
I could ever hope to do.”
“There is no good reason why you make such talk as that, and I would
refuse to listen, save that it is necessary I know upon what your mind
is dwelling.”
“That can be told quickly,” I replied, burning with the desire to be
where I could strike a blow at those who were making ready for such
work as the imps of the evil one would blush at. “I am minded to go out
there, not boldly, nor in a careless manner, but to creep upon that
band of demons until it be possible either to drive them away, or do
the last friendly act to our comrades who are prisoners--bring them to
their death quickly.”
“He who has had the most experience in warfare with the savages will
tell you, Jonathan Ogden, that you haven’t one chance in ten thousand,
even though you take all your company of Minute Boys, to drive away
those savages after they have once begun, or made ready for their cruel
work. I grant you it would be a blessed boon to kill the lads quickly;
but to do that you would bring down, not only upon yourselves, but on
all within this stockade, that horde of ravening wolves.”
I was not minded to continue the discussion when the moments were so
precious, and knew beyond a peradventure that Simon Bartlett would
never give his consent to my going in case I asked it; therefore did I
put the matter plainly before him:
“It is my intent, Master Bartlett, to do whatsoever I can to aid my
comrades, and with the expectation of meeting death while doing it.
Neither the fact that I am in command of this company, nor that it is
a forlorn hope on which I am embarking, can prevent me. If so be two
others here want to go with me, I believe it possible the dear lads may
be killed before they are tortured.”
“I am one who goes with you, Jonathan Ogden,” came a voice near at
hand, and, looking down from the platform on which the old man and I
were standing, I saw Giles March, who had come up unobserved and thus
heard a goodly portion of the conversation.
“But you must stay here, Giles,” I cried, and he replied, sharply:
“What fetters have I more than you? Is the captain of a company the
only one who is permitted to attempt a man’s work?”
As a matter of course, that silenced me. What reply could I make to
such questions?
“You know how few are the chances that we shall come back into this
stockade alive?” I ventured to ask, and he replied promptly:
“Ay, even as well as you, Jonathan Ogden, and yet would I go, for
death were better, as I look at the matter, than remaining here idle,
knowing what is being done yonder.”
“What is it you speak of in which death seems so certain?” Daniel
Hinchman asked, as he came up hurriedly, and I would have held my
peace, but Giles March must needs explain to him what I proposed to do.
“And who will go with you, Jonathan Ogden?” Daniel asked.
“I am going,” Giles said, before it was possible for me to make reply.
“Then you shall count me in also. It would be the least I could do,
after this company of lads has saved my sister from a doom even worse
than that which you say probably awaits those who went out hunting.”
Again I would have protested; but Master Bartlett, laying his hand
heavily on my shoulder, said gravely:
“Haven’t they as good right as you to risk life in the hope of aiding
a comrade? Now you have the two you asked for, and, if it still be in
your mind to go out on what I shall count a hopeless task, then let
me beg you do it secretly, allowing no person inside this enclosure,
save only Stephen Morley and myself, to know that the force has been
weakened by seven.”
“How seven?” I asked, with irritation.
“The four hunters and you three, for there is no more chance one will
return than the other.”
Leaping down from the stockade, I began hurriedly to make my
preparations, for however determined I was to sally forth, such talk as
Master Bartlett was indulging in could have no other effect than that
of making me for the moment faint-hearted, and surely just then I had
need of all the courage which could be summoned.
I would take with me nothing save my musket and ammunition; every
garment that could be dispensed with should be left behind, lest it
impede me in the short journey which must be made as silently as death,
and Giles and Daniel followed my example, until we stood in little more
clothing than was indulged in by those fiends whom we hoped to kill.
While this was being done, Master Bartlett held a whispered
conversation with Stephen Morley, after which the old man said:
“If you go out through the gate, lads, one or more of the company will
know your purpose, therefore I propose that you let yourselves down
from the top of the stockade at whatsoever point seems best to you,
and, although we dare not hope you may return, both Stephen Morley and
I will stand here on watch, ready to open the small gate when we see
you coming, or to summon the rest of the company to shoot down those
who may be pursuing.”
“As well go from here as anywhere?” I said to Giles, pointing just
above our heads, and he nodded.
Master Bartlett gripped each of us by the hand in turn, and thus
we climbed up, swinging ourselves over the top of the stockade and
dropping down on the outside.
I had feared that one or both of the men might attempt to indulge in
leave-taking, and so tensely were my nerves strung then that I could
not have endured anything of the kind; but, fortunately for me, not a
word was spoken.
After reaching the ground, it was not necessary we should hold any
converse one with the other. Each of us understood what was to be done,
and could see plainly before us the goal. The fire was leaping higher
and higher, and a deathly sickness came into my heart, as I asked
myself whether the tongues of flame had not already fastened upon the
bodies of our comrades.
It was as if Giles March read my thoughts, for he said in a whisper:
“They haven’t begun the work of torture yet, else would we have
heard songs and shouts. Yonder light comes from the camp-fire, where
doubtless they are making ready supper.”
As nearly as I could judge, the Indians were less than a mile away, and
the night was so far advanced that it seemed necessary we take some
chances of making a noise, else we might arrive too late, therefore I
believe we covered the distance within half an hour, seeing nothing
during that short journey betokening the presence of foes. It was as
if the murdering villains, secure in their numbers, believed that no
danger threatened them, or that it would not be necessary to send out
scouts, because we in the fort were penned up like sheep awaiting the
butcher.
When we had finally arrived so near the fire as to be able to
distinguish objects within the circle of illumination, it was possible
to see two of our lads bound to trees near by, and looking as one may
well fancy human beings would look when watching preparations that are
being made for the most cruel death which can come to man.
“Where are the others?” Daniel Hinchman asked in a whisper.
“Already dead,” Giles March replied, confidently, “and theirs was the
happier fate.”
“Why can’t they have escaped?” I asked, hopefully.
“Because, if such had been the case, we should have seen them at the
stockade before this. Stephen Morley has said that the Indians were
advancing like soldiers on a skirmish-line, covering not less than half
a mile in distance, and in such case, all ignorant of the fact that so
many foes were near, the lads would not have made détour wide enough to
avoid them.”
I hardly heard the last of his words. If, indeed, two of our lads were
already dead, then were they the more fortunate. We could do nothing
in their behalf, and it was of the living that care should be taken.
So nearly as could be told, there were less, instead of more, than an
hundred savages encamping here to indulge in their fiendish sport, and
the thought came to me like a flash of light that there were none of
the red demons at Wintermoot’s who would miss seeing such a spectacle
as that afforded by two white boys while they were being tortured to
death. Therefore might we with good reason expect all that horde of
bloodthirsty murderers would arrive before the final moment came.
I said to Giles that, if we were to effect anything, the task must
be begun quickly, for, although it did not seem within the range of
possibility we could overmaster four score or more, surely was all hope
gone when that number should be doubled or trebled.
“Ay, I am of the same mind, Jonathan, therefore say what shall be done,
and we will commence, selling our lives desperately, but making certain
to hold the last shots for those poor lads yonder.”
I had no more idea than he how we could strike the heaviest blow; but,
in turning over the matter in my mind, came the desire to lessen the
number of the enemy by as many as might be possible, and therefore did
it seem to me as if that might best be done by beginning the work at
long range.
Acting on my suggestion, rather than commands, Daniel stole softly to
the right of me, a distance of perhaps an hundred paces, and Giles as
far in the opposite direction, while I remained with my musket resting
on the branch of a tree, that there might be no question as to the
trueness of aim until one or the other should open fire.
With the reports of three muskets coming from so many different points,
each at quite a distance from the other, the savages would reasonably
suppose they were surrounded by a considerable force, and therefore
might be thrown in confusion sufficiently long for us to reload and get
in a second volley before any move was made.
This would suffice for six of them, unless we were careless in the
shooting, and after that had been done Daniel and Giles were to come
back to me, when we would do whatsoever was dictated by the movements
of the enemy.
It was Daniel who fired first, and I saw an Indian, who was standing
somewhat apart from the others, as if he was one of the chiefs of the
tribe, pitch forward on his face, dead.
Then came Giles’s shot, and a brave who was bending over the fire,
evidently cooking meat, fell among the embers, getting a taste before
he died, I hope, of what he would have inflicted upon our comrades. On
the instant I discharged my musket, and the third Mohawk fell, never to
rise again.
[Illustration: “THE THIRD MOHAWK FELL, NEVER TO RISE AGAIN.”]
The Indians stood for a moment as if transfixed with amazement and
terror, looking here and there questioningly, and not a movement toward
us had been made, when once more Daniel fired.
That savage who was standing full in the light of the flames fell at
the report of his musket, and his neighbor dropped an instant later
under my bullet, while on the other side of the fire a sixth man sank
down.
Then, as never before, did I work with utmost haste to reload my
weapon, hoping to get in one more shot before my comrades joined me,
and in this was I successful.
The seventh Mohawk had been sent to his happy hunting-grounds when
Giles and Daniel came up, and we three, peering intently toward those
bloodthirsty cowards, who dared not make a move, as if fearing that
some supernatural power had stricken their fellows down, loaded our
weapons.
Then, in a twinkling, we dashed toward the encampment, without any
purpose save that of coming hand to hand with those whom we believed
were speedily to kill us.
When we had arrived just at the edge of the thicket, and in another
instant would have come out into the light of the fire, the Indians
made their first move, which was to retreat until they gained cover,
for the brutes were never known to be willing to stand up in the open
against an unseen enemy.
“One more shot,” I whispered, hurriedly, and even as the last vanished,
two of them fell to the ground dead; but whether the third bullet
missed its billet, we could not see.
Now, on the instant, came to me a possible plan. There was one chance
perhaps in a thousand of its succeeding, and yet, if it didn’t, we were
in no worse position than before, for we had come fully expecting to
yield up our lives in the hope of giving our comrades a merciful death.
“You two shall stand here within the shelter of the trees,” I said,
hurriedly, “and fire as rapidly as may be possible whenever you see a
target. In the meanwhile I will make my way through the thicket until
coming up behind the prisoners, when there is the barest possibility I
may be able to sever their bonds.”
Then, throwing down the musket and drawing my knife, I made my way
outside the circle of light, hidden by the foliage, giving no heed as
to preserving silence, and hearing, as I ran, the discharge of a weapon
by one of my comrades.
My heart beat as if it were like to burst through the flesh, for there
had suddenly come into my mind the belief that it was possible we
should yet succeed, if not in holding our own lives, in giving liberty
to those who had been so near death.
Hardly knowing if I walked or ran, giving no heed as to whether there
might be any one in my path, I made all speed until, having gained the
tree behind which John Coburn was bound, and slashing through the
deer-hide thongs with my knife, I whispered, hoarsely:
“If it be possible to use your legs now, lad, make all speed to the
fort, where Master Bartlett is watching for your coming. In case your
limbs are numbed, stand where you are until the blood circulates again,
and then make a rush.”
I question if thirty seconds had been spent in freeing John, and then,
darting back into the bushes once more, I came up behind the other
lad,--Oscar Stephenson,--just as another report from the rear told that
an Indian had incautiously shown himself.
Oscar was free, and, as I made ready to go back where Giles and Daniel
were waiting, I saw the lad straighten up, as if trying his muscles.
An instant later the two were flying like startled deer; but their
movements were the signal for the Indians to rush forward, and in a
twinkling the whole savage horde was at my heels.
Crack! crack! rang out the muskets of my comrades, and, guided by that
sound, I reached them as speedily as my legs could carry me, snatching
the musket which Daniel held toward me, and starting hotfoot for the
stockade.
Rapid as had been my movements, the rescued lads ran even more swiftly,
for they had been looking death in the face an hour or more, and
were able to accomplish that which at any other time would have been
impossible.
Daniel was just behind me, not two paces distant, and close at his
heels came Giles, who, when we had run half-way to the stockade, said,
hoarsely:
“It were better we stopped here for one more shot than to cross the
clearing while there are so many behind us.”
It was good advice, and, wheeling about, I charged my musket with
trembling hands, for what with the excitement and the exertion, I was
quivering like an aspen leaf.
Then we waited for a target. Beyond the glowing fire as we were, it was
difficult to distinguish the enemy. I was on the point of proposing
that we move on rather than lose valuable time, when hardly ten paces
distant I saw a black form amid the foliage, and then another and
another, until we could count five sneaking up, probably seeing us even
more plainly than we saw them.
Fortunately all of our weapons were loaded, and, prodding my comrades
to call their attention to that which I saw, we took steady aim and
fired.
A howl of pain followed the report, as one of the figures turned and
went halting back toward the fire, while two dropped, and the others
stood as if suddenly turned into statues.
“Verily have we dealt a blow to the Mohawks of which we should
be proud, even though we never reach the stockade again,” I said
exultingly, and there was in my heart a fervent thanksgiving that I
had been allowed to slay so many of those who would make of our valley
a shambles.
“It will be better if we get to the stockade alive,” Giles said,
grimly, and then we ran more slowly, because of trying to load our
weapons as we moved.
I am making a long story of what should be told in few words, and,
therefore, will cease trying to glorify myself and my comrades for our
work of the night, to say that twice before coming out into the cleared
space in front of the stockade we loaded and fired at skulking figures
amid the trees, wasting no shot, and then was come that most dangerous
portion of the work.
Full fifty yards, from the edge of the thicket to the small gate of
the stockade, we must run exposed to the full view of those who might
follow, and Giles said, as we slackened our pace before bursting out of
the bushes:
“It were better we separated than ran in a bunch, for of a verity are
we to be their targets now.”
As he said, so we did. Each for himself, and, twelve or fifteen yards
apart, we started on that race with death.
It seemed to me as if I had no more than left the cover of the bushes
when the muskets began to sound, and, before half the distance was
covered, it was as if no less than an hundred were shooting at me; but
I came to understand afterward that this multiplicity of reports arose
from the fact that our friends within the stockade were keeping up
quite as heavy a fusillade as were the Mohawks.
And now for that which seems almost beyond belief: We three lads
covered the distance in the open, where we afforded the best targets
to our pursuers, gaining the shelter of the fort without having been
scratched by a bullet, and that when, I dare venture to say, no less
than fifty missiles were sent after us by the excited foe whom we had
outwitted so completely.
Once inside, with the gate barred behind us, I fell forward on my
face, unable to move or speak, so thoroughly exhausted was I by the
excitement and the exertion, and for a time I knew nothing whatsoever,
until becoming dimly conscious that Master Bartlett was bending over
me, saying:
“You have accomplished that this night, Jonathan Ogden, which I doubt
if any man in the valley could have done, and, if our people at
Wilkesbarre do not come to know of the courage and self-sacrifice you
have shown in behalf of your comrades, it will be because I can no
longer wag my tongue.”
“The others, where are they?” I managed to ask, and with speech came
power of motion, until I stood upright.
“All are safe, lad, that is--you three who went out, and two who came
back ahead of you.”
“Do you mean Oscar Stephenson and John Coburn?”
“Ay, lad.”
“And what of the other two? Were they killed?”
“Oscar claims that they must be at liberty, for, when the savages first
appeared, the others made for the river, evidently counting on swimming
across, and therefore, while there are two Minute Boys of the Wyoming
Valley who will not answer to the roll just now, it is probable they
are yet alive. I would not have believed, when you left, that twenty
men could have rescued those lads who were so near the stake, and am
burning to know how it was done.”
“There is nothing to be told, Master Bartlett,” I said, with a nervous
laugh. “We simply advanced and fired upon the Indians while under
cover; they were stampeded because of not being able to see us, and,
consequently, as much was done by our remaining hidden as by our
shooting. It did indeed seem like a dangerous task when we began, but,
as matters turned, it was no more than you or many another man has done
time and time again since the troubles concerning the ownership of this
valley began.”
“As to that I have another opinion, lad; but we won’t discuss it now,
for, unless I am mistaken in those red villains, there is a hot night
ahead of us. I am of the mind that we will have another attack upon the
stockade before morning, and it promises to be vastly different from
the last one, for now the savages will fight to revenge the death of
those whom you have killed. Therefore, as soon as may be, lad, I beg
you to get your company in shape, and see to it that you call upon the
women as you do the men.”
In a flash I understood that what Master Bartlett said was true; even
at that moment I knew the fort must be surrounded by those who thirsted
for vengeance, and, in addition to obeying the command of John Butler,
they would strive to kill us because of what we had done that night.
Nor would it be as easy to drive them away as before, and we were
facing a greater danger than Giles, Daniel, and I faced when we went
toward the camp-fire.
It can well be understood that I lost no time in doing whatsoever I
might toward making ready for the battle which was to come, and my
comrades who had shared with me the danger just past were not one whit
behind in their efforts.
We put on sentinel duty every member of our company, including myself,
leaving to Master Bartlett and Stephen Morley the task of making the
rounds to ascertain if each fellow was doing his duty, and the women
stationed themselves here and there under the walls, where they could
load our weapons as soon as they were discharged, while the children we
fastened securely inside the blockhouse, lest in their terror they come
out and impede the defenders in their work.
Then we waited for that which we knew was surely to come, and I had
more of timorousness in my heart during the few moments of quietude
which reigned than when we were making the attack upon that horde who
were preparing to torture our comrades.