A DARING SWIM.
"Coward!"
It was only one word, but that one word contained a wealth of contempt
and scorn which made the officer tremble.
"Place those men in chains!"
The sergeant of marines saluted and gave the order to the remaining
prisoners to return to their prison place.
Allen countermanded the order.
"Listen to me. I am a freeborn man, and, though a prisoner, I am a
prisoner of war. I was promised fair treatment for myself and men if
we would surrender at Quebec. Is this what you call fair treatment?"
"I am very sorry for you, Col. Allen; but, since I am a soldier, I am
compelled to obey orders."
"And who gave you such an order?"
"That I may not answer--as you ought to know, being a soldier yourself."
"Are these men to be hanged?"
"So I was ordered to say. I have only acted according to instructions."
It was the man that spoke, not the officer. His softened voice showed
that he had carried out a very distasteful order, and that his manhood
revolted at it.
"Can I not make an appeal personally to the general commanding?"
"That would be impossible."
"Are these men to be hanged without trial?"
"Col. Allen, you are a brave man, and can face the worst. I am told,
though I ought not to tell you, that the American rebels have gained
several advantages lately, and the British authorities are determined
to stamp out the rebellion; so----" He paused. The man was ashamed to
utter what he had heard. Gathering courage from Allen's silence he
continued: "We are told that no prisoners are to be treated as
prisoners of war, but as outlaws and rebels, to shoot whom will be
considered a meritorious act."
"And the object?"
"Can you not see? It is to strike terror into the rebels."
"So be it! But, mark me, I speak as a rebel, but also as a man, and I
tell you that for every American hanged without due process of law, ten
Englishmen shall die. Do not mistake me! I shall be a free man again,
and shall make England suffer. The leaders of the Americans, called by
you rebels, will know of this murder and will avenge it."
The British officer made no reply, but waved his hand to the sergeant,
who removed the ill-fated fifteen.
By some chance Allen had omitted Eben's name from the fifteen, and
while he regretted it at first, he was more than pleased now that the
oversight had occurred.
When the prisoners were removed to their part of the lower deck, Eben
managed to get close to Allen.
"You don't think they will hang those?" he asked.
"I do not know, my boy. I think they are vile enough for anything."
"I heard that officer, who came aboard with dispatches, say that there
was a lot of the patriots close here."
"Of our people?"
"Yes."
"That accounts for it, then. They will hang the prisoners as an act of
defiance."
"Colonel, I have an idea."
"What is it, Eben?"
"Come closer to me, for I must whisper very softly."
Eben managed so that his mouth was very close to Allen's ear, and then
he told of his plan.
"I can slip over into the water when it is quite dark and swim to land;
then I can make my way to the patriots and tell them the straits we are
in."
"You could not reach the land."
"Not reach it? Why, colonel, have you forgotten how I swam across dear
old Champlain and then back again?"
"I am not likely to forget that."
"Then I am sure I can do this little bit."
"But they will fire on you?"
"If they see me; and that is just what I am going to prevent."
"How?"
"Never mind that, colonel. Only give your consent and I will succeed,
and I think I can save the lives of our friends."
"Eben, you are very brave. Can you bear to think of your fate?"
"I have thought of it. If we stay here we shall be hanged; if I fail
to reach land I shall drown, and I think I would rather drown than be
hanged. What say you, colonel?"
"My dear fellow, you must act as you think best."
"All right, colonel. Good-by; I may never see you again."
"Good-by, Eben. Take care of yourself, and may Heaven bless you."
Several times Allen tried to communicate with Eben, and to try to
dissuade him from his hazardous undertaking, but the youth felt
instinctively that he would do so, and remained out of reach of his
beloved colonel's voice.
When night came Eben managed to get to the side of the ship unobserved,
and in a few moments he had dropped noiselessly into the water.
But, as ill luck would have it, he got entangled in some chains as he
struck out from the ship, and the noise attracted the attention of the
guard.
"Man overboard!" he cried.
Allen heard the cry and his heart stood still, for he was sure Eben
would be captured, and then nothing could save his life.
The officer in charge of the prisoners heard the cry also, and at once
ordered every man to answer to his name.
It was the work of but a few minutes, and it was ascertained that Eben
had really escaped.
"Do you see him?" asked the captain.
"Yes."
"Fire on him!"
Several muskets were fired, and had not the Vermonter been an excellent
swimmer he would have been killed. But Eben dived and swam under the
water a great distance, and the bullets were deflected by the water.
A boat was lowered and the stoutest sailors, with four marines, manned
it.
"Ten pounds to the man who kills him," said the captain, "and twenty
for the man who brings him in alive."
There was a stimulus in the offer of reward, although the Englishmen,
every one of them, would have gloried in the chase and in hunting the
boy to his death without even the chance of a reward.
Eben saw the boat coming after him, and he knew that he was in a race
for life.
He was not daunted.
He watched the boat skim through the moonlit water, and he floated for
some little distance to ascertain whether he was seen.
Assured of that, he laughed quietly to himself over the chase he would
give them.
He dashed the water about as though he was about to sink, and instantly
a musket ball struck the water within a few feet of him.
Then he dived and swam in another direction, knowing that the boat
would continue on its straight track.
When he reappeared above the water he saw that he had gained very
materially on his pursuers, and as he did not care what part of the
coast he reached, he again dived and swam farther down the shore.
When he came to the surface and floated, he looked round and saw that
the boat's crew had given him up for lost.
The boat was circling round and round, and every eye was strained to
find his dead body.
Eben leisurely swam to the shore, and was glad when he reached land,
for he was nigh exhausted.
He had to be very cautious, for many tories resided on the shore, and
he knew that he would be treated as a suspicious character.
He found a wood which afforded him shelter.
Undressing, he hung his clothes out to dry, while he climbed into a
tree, with the double object of not being found in a state of undress
and be the better able to see if anyone approached.
There was a warm breeze blowing, and his clothes soon dried, and once
again he felt like a human being.
A new trouble arose. He found his limbs so weak that he could not
stand.
His flesh was hot and dry, his mouth parched, and his eyes were like
burning coals.
He had fever.
The fact was appalling enough at ordinary times, but how much more so
under the circumstances?
He dare not seek a house, even if he could crawl as far, for he knew
that fever meant delirium, and in his delirium he might betray himself
and so injure the cause he loved so well.
He had not lived in the mountains without knowing the value of herbs,
so he looked around to find those natural medicines which at home had
been used by the Indians and most of the white folks of the Green
Mountains.
He wanted agrimony, but did not see any; but he did find yarrow in
abundance.
Now, the leaves and flowers of the common yarrow, or the _achillea
milefolium_ of botanists, are an excellent thing in fevers, producing
perspiration and cleansing the blood at the same time; but Eben knew
that it should be macerated in boiling water.
Boiling water was out of the question, and, in fact, there seemed to be
no water save sea water near, so he gathered a quantity of the leaves
and chewed them. The taste was bitter and aromatic, but refreshing to
the fever-stricken boy.
After a time he felt a nausea, and stopped eating.
He turned over on his back and fell asleep.
When he awoke the sun was high in the heavens and he fancied he had
slept four or five hours; in reality he had slept nearly thirty hours.
His body was covered with a cold perspiration and his mouth seemed less
parched.
As he raised himself to look around he saw that he was not alone.
A man, evidently poor, if judged by his dress, stood some distance
away, watching him closely.
"So you did wake, eh? I reckon'd that you were going to sleep till
Gabriel blew his trump."
"Have I slept long?" asked Eben.
"Well, now, I can't say 'zactly, for I reckon you had been asleep a
long time when I found you, and I've been here nigh on to ten hours."
"You have been watching me that long? Why?"
"Mebbe I took a fancy to you, and mebbe I know you."
"You know me?"
"Well, now, I reckon if I were to call you Ebenezer Pike----"
"If you did?"
"Yes, I was saying I reckon that you would have to say that was your
name."
"What gave you that idea? And who is Ebenezer Pike?"
"I am no tory. Yesterday I heard that a prisoner had escaped from the
war ship out there, and that the one who had got away was at the bottom
of the sea. I was curious, and I asked all about it. Then I was asked
if a body wouldn't float into land; and I said mebbe; and then the
bluejacket told me he would give me ten shillings if I found the body
and gave it up to him. So I searched and found--you."
"And discovered that I was not worth ten shillings?"
"Never mind what I found; I tell you I ain't no tory, and ten pounds,
nor ten hundred pounds, would make me give up a live American hero.
His dead body wouldn't be of no account to him, so I might give up
that."
"And you think I am this escaped prisoner! Well, what do you want to
do with me? for I am too weak to oppose your silly whim."
"I am going to take you to my house, and when you get strong you shall
go just where you please."
"You mean this?"
"I do; and I tell you that if we could liberate Col. Ethan Allen we
would, for he is wanted just now; Carolina means to be free and
independent, so it does."
Eben did not attempt any resistance; in fact, he was too weak to oppose
his discoverer, so he allowed himself to be lifted on the man's
shoulder and be carried to a cabin on the other side of the wood.
Here he was tended as well as if he had been among relatives or his
friends of the Green Mountains.
After a few days he was strong enough to go out, and he walked down to
the beach and saw the vessel from which he had escaped lying at anchor.
But he saw something more--something which made his blood run cold.
As he was returning he saw five trees growing on the banks of the river
near the cape, and from each tree there dangled a human body.
On closer inspection he found--what he had dreaded to find--that the
bodies were those of some of his fellow prisoners.
"Come away, my boy," said his new friend. "Those men gave their lives
for a sacred cause, and I wish every Carolinian could see and know
them. It is a good thing for us that the cowardly tories hanged them,
for every one hanged means a surer vengeance."
"It is horrible! Will they dare to serve Col. Allen so?"
"I don't think so, but they may. What are your plans?"
"I want to find the army of America and get the men to liberate Col.
Allen."
"Praiseworthy, but we shall have a weary tramp before we reach the
patriots. Things have changed and many difficulties will confront us."
"You say 'us,' as though you were going?"
"Where you go, so shall I."
Once more the two walked down to the beach, and Eben gave a cry of pain
as he saw the war ship slowly sailing away.