Chapter 11: Scouting.

It was near five o'clock before the final rout of the French took

place; but, before that time, several hundreds of the Canadians and

Indians had left the scene of action, and had returned to the scene of

the fight in the wood, to plunder and scalp the dead. They were

resting, after their bloody work, by a pool in the forest, when a

scouting party from Fort Lyman, under Captains M'Ginnis and Folsom,

came upon them and opened fire.

The Canadians and Indians, outnumbering their assailants greatly,

fought for some time, but were finally defeated and fled. M'Ginnis was

mortally wounded, but continued to give orders till the fight was over.

The bodies of the slain were thrown into the pool, which to this day

bears the name, "the bloody pool."

The various bands of French fugitives reunited in the forest, and made

their way back to their canoes in South Bay, and reached Ticonderoga

utterly exhausted and famished, for they had thrown away their

knapsacks in their flight, and had nothing to eat from the morning of

the fight until they rejoined their comrades.

Johnson had the greatest difficulty in protecting the wounded French

general from the Mohawks, who, although they had done no fighting in

defence of the camp, wanted to torture and burn Dieskau in revenge for

the death of Hendrick and their warriors who had fallen in the ambush.

He, however, succeeded in doing so, and sent him in a litter under a

strong escort to Albany. Dieskau was afterwards taken to England, and

remained for some years at Bath, after which he returned to Paris. He

never, however, recovered from his numerous wounds, and died a few

years later.

He always spoke in the highest terms of the kindness he had received

from the colonial officers. Of the provincial soldiers he said that, in

the morning they fought like boys, about noon like men, and in the

afternoon like devils.

The English loss in killed, wounded, and missing was two hundred and

sixty-two, for the most part killed in the ambush in the morning. The

French, according to their own account, lost two hundred and

twenty-eight, but it probably exceeded four hundred, the principal

portion of whom were regulars, for the Indians and Canadians kept

themselves so well under cover that they and the provincials, behind

their logs, were able to inflict but little loss on each other.

Had Johnson followed up his success, he might have reached South Bay

before the French, in which case the whole of Dieskau's column must

have fallen into his hands; nor did he press forward against

Ticonderoga, which he might easily have captured. For ten days nothing

was done except to fortify the camp, and when, at the end of that time,

he thought of advancing against Ticonderoga, the French had already

fortified the place so strongly that they were able to defy attack. The

colonists sent him large reinforcements, but the season was getting

late, and, after keeping the army stationary until the end of November,

the troops, having suffered terribly from the cold and exposure, became

almost mutinous, and were finally marched back to Albany, a small

detachment being left to hold the fort by the lake. This was now

christened Fort William Henry.

The victory was due principally to the gallantry and coolness of Lyman;

but Johnson, in his report of the battle, made no mention of that

officer's name, and took all the credit to himself. He was rewarded by

being made a baronet, and by being voted a pension, by parliament, of

five thousand a year.

James Walsham, having no duties during the fight at the camp, had taken

a musket and lain down behind the logs with the soldiers, and had, all

the afternoon, kept up a fire at the trees and bushes behind which the

enemy were hiding. After the battle, he had volunteered to assist the

over-worked surgeons, whose labours lasted through the night. When he

found that no forward movement was likely to take place, he determined

to leave the camp. He therefore asked Captain Rogers, who was the

leader of a band of scouts, and a man of extraordinary energy and

enterprise, to allow him to accompany him on a scouting expedition

towards Ticonderoga.

"I shall be glad to have you with me," Rogers replied; "but you know it

is a service of danger. It is not like work with regular troops, where

all march, fight, stand, or fall together. Here each man fights for

himself. Mind, there is not a man among my band who would not risk his

life for the rest; but, scattered through the woods as each man is,

each must perforce rely principally on himself. The woods near

Ticonderoga will be full of lurking redskins, and a man may be brained

and scalped without his fellow, a few yards away, hearing a sound. I

only say this that you may feel that you must take your chances. The

men under me are, every one, old hunters and Indian fighters, and are a

match for the redskin in every move of forest war. They are true grit

to the backbone, but they are rough outspoken men, and, on a service

when a foot carelessly placed on a dried twig, or a word spoken above a

whisper, may bring a crowd of yelping redskins upon us, and cost every

man his scalp, they would speak sharply to the king himself, if he were

on the scout with them, and you must not take offence at any rough word

that may be said."

James laughed, and said that he should not care how much he was blown

up, and that he should thankfully receive any lessons from such masters

of forest craft.

"Very well," Captain Rogers said. "In that case, it is settled. I will

let you have a pair of moccasins. You cannot go walking about in the

woods in those boots. You had better get a rifle. Your sword you had

best leave behind. It will be of no use to you, and will only be in

your way."

James had no difficulty in providing himself with a gun, for numbers of

weapons, picked up in the woods after the rout of the enemy, were

stored in camp. The rifles had, however, been all taken by the troops,

who had exchanged their own firelocks for them. Captain Rogers went

with him among the men, and selected a well-finished rifle of which one

of them had possessed himself. Its owner readily agreed to accept five

pounds for it, taking in its stead one of the guns in the store. Before

choosing it, Captain Rogers placed a bit of paper against a tree, and

fired several shots at various distances at it.

"It is a beautiful rifle," he said. "Its only fault is that it is

rather heavy, but it shoots all the better for it. It is evidently a

French gun, I should say by a first-rate maker, built probably for some

French officer who knew what he was about. It is a good workmanlike

piece, and, when you learn to hold it straight, you can trust it to

shoot."

That evening James, having made all his preparations, said goodbye to

the general and to his other friends, and joined the scouts who were

gathering by the shore of the lake. Ten canoes, each of which would

carry three men, were lying by the shore.

"Nat, you and Jonathan will take this young fellow with you. He is a

lad, and it is his first scout. You will find him of the right sort. He

was with Braddock, and after that affair hurried up here to see

fighting on the lakes. He can't have two better nurses than you are. He

is going to be an officer in the king's army, and wants to learn as

much as he can, so that, if he ever gets with his men into such a mess

as Braddock tumbled into, he will know what to do with them."

"All right, captain! We will do our best for him. It's risky sort of

business ours for a greenhorn, but if he is anyways teachable, we will

soon make a man of him."

The speaker was a wiry, active man of some forty years old, with a

weatherbeaten face, and a keen gray eye. Jonathan, his comrade, was a

head taller, with broad shoulders, powerful limbs, and a quiet but

good-tempered face.

"That's so, isn't it, Jonathan?" Nat asked.

Jonathan nodded. He was not a man of many words.

"Have you ever been in a canoe before?" Nat inquired.

"Never," James said; "but I am accustomed to boats of all sorts, and

can handle an oar fairly."

"Oars ain't no good here," the scout said. "You will have to learn to

paddle; but, first of all, you have got to learn to sit still. These

here canoes are awkward things for a beginner. Now you hand in your

traps, and I will stow them away, then you take your place in the

middle of the boat. Here's a paddle for you, and when you begin to feel

yourself comfortable, you can start to try with it, easy and gentle to

begin with; but you must lay it in when we get near where we may expect

that redskins may be in the woods, for the splash of a paddle might

cost us all our scalps."

James took his seat in the middle of the boat. Jonathan was behind him.

Nat handled the paddle in the bow. There was but a brief delay in

starting, and the ten boats darted noiselessly out on to the lake. For

a time, James did not attempt to use his paddle. The canoe was of birch

bark, so thin that it seemed to him that an incautious movement would

instantly knock a hole through her.

Once under weigh, she was steadier than he had expected, and James

could feel her bound forward with each stroke of the paddles. When he

became accustomed to the motion of the boat, he raised himself from a

sitting position in the bottom, and, kneeling as the others were doing,

he began to dip his paddle quietly in the water in time with their

stroke. His familiarity with rowing rendered it easy for him to keep

time and swing, and, ere long, he found himself putting a considerable

amount of force into each stroke. Nat looked back over his shoulder.

"Well done, young 'un. That's first rate for a beginner, and it makes a

deal of difference on our arms. The others are all paddling three, and,

though Jonathan and I have beaten three before now, when our scalps

depended on our doing so, it makes all the difference in the work

whether you have a sitter to take along, or an extra paddle going."

It was falling dusk when the boat started, and was, by this time, quite

dark. Scarce a word was heard in the ten canoes as, keeping near the

right-hand shore of the lake, they glided rapidly along in a close

body. So noiselessly were the paddles dipped into the water that the

drip from them, as they were lifted, was the only sound heard.

Four hours' steady paddling took them to the narrows, about

five-and-twenty miles from their starting point. Here, on the whispered

order of Nat, James laid in his paddle; for, careful as he was, he

occasionally made a slight splash as he put it in the water. The canoes

now kept in single file, almost under the trees on the right bank, for

the lake was here scarce a mile across, and watchful eyes might be on

the lookout on the shore to the left. Another ten miles was passed, and

then the canoes were steered in to the shore.

The guns, blankets, and bundles were lifted out; the canoes raised on

the shoulders of the men, and carried a couple of hundred yards among

the trees; then, with scarcely a word spoken, each man rolled himself

in his blanket and lay down to sleep, four being sent out as scouts in

various directions. Soon after daybreak, all were on foot again,

although it had been arranged that no move should be made till night

set in. No fires were lighted, for they had brought with them a supply

of biscuit and dry deers' flesh sufficient for a week.

"How did you get on yesterday?" Captain Rogers asked, as he came up to

the spot where James had just risen to his feet.

"First rate, captain!" Nat answered for him. "I hardly believed that a

young fellow could have handled a paddle so well, at the first attempt.

He rowed all the way, except just the narrows, and though I don't say

as he was noiseless, he did wonderfully well, and we came along with

the rest as easy as may be."

"I thought I heard a little splash, now and then," the captain said,

smiling; "but it was very slight, and could do no harm where the lake

is two or three miles wide, as it is here. But you will have to lay in

your paddle when we get near the other end, for the sides narrow in

there, and the redskins would hear a fish jump, half a mile away."

During the day the men passed their time in sleep, in mending their

clothes, or in talking quietly together. The use of tea had not yet

become general in America, and the meals were washed down with water

drawn from the lake (where an over-hanging bush shaded the shore from

the sight of anyone on the opposite bank), mixed with rum from the

gourds which all the scouts carried.

Nat spent some time in pointing out, to James, the signs by which the

hunters found their way through the forest; by the moss and lichens

growing more thickly on the side of the trunks of the trees opposed to

the course of the prevailing winds, or by a slight inclination of the

upper boughs of the trees in the same direction.

"An old woodsman can tell," he said, "on the darkest night, on running

his hand round the trunk of a tree, by the feel of the bark, which is

north and south; but it would be long before you can get to such

niceties as that; but, if you keep your eyes open as you go along, and

look at the signs on the trunks, which are just as plain, when you once

know them, as the marks on a man's face, you will be able to make your

way through the woods in the daytime. Of course, when the sun is

shining, you get its help, for, although it is not often a gleam comes

down through the leaves, sometimes you come upon a little patch, and

you are sure, now and then, to strike on a gap where a tree has fallen,

and that gives you a line again. A great help to a young beginner is

the sun, for a young hand in the woods gets confused, and doubts the

signs of the trees; but, in course, when he comes on a patch of

sunlight, he can't make a mistake nohow as to the direction."

James indulged in a silent hope that, if he were ever lost in the

woods, the sun would be shining, for, look as earnestly as he would, he

could not perceive the signs which appeared so plain and distinct to

the scout. Occasionally, indeed, he fancied that there was some slight

difference between one side of the trunk and the other; but he was by

no means sure that, even in these cases, he should have noticed it

unless it had been pointed out to him; while, in the greater part of

the trees he could discern no difference whatever.

"It's just habit, my lad," Nat said encouragingly to him; "there's just

as much difference between one side of the tree and the other, as there

is between two men's faces. It comes of practice. Now, just look at the

roots of this tree; don't you see, on one side they run pretty nigh

straight out from the trunk, while from the other they go down deep

into the ground. That speaks for itself. The tree has thrown out its

roots, to claw into the ground and get a hold, on the side from which

the wind comes; while, on the other side, having no such occasion, it

has dipped its root down to look for moisture and food."

"Yes, I do see that," James said, "that is easy enough to make out; but

the next tree, and the next, and, as far as I see, all the others,

don't seem to have any difference in their roots one side or the

other."

"That is so," the scout replied. "You see, those are younger trees than

this, and it is like enough they did not grow under the same

circumstances. When a few trees fall, or a small clearing is made by a

gale, the young trees that grow up are well sheltered from the wind by

the forest, and don't want to throw out roots to hold them up; but when

a great clearing has been made, by a fire or other causes, the trees,

as they grow up together, have no shelter, and must stretch out their

roots to steady them.

"Sometimes, you will find all the trees, for a long distance, with

their roots like this; sometimes only one tree among a number. Perhaps,

when they started, that tree had more room, or a deeper soil, and grew

faster than the rest, and got his head above them, so he felt the wind

more, and had to throw out his roots to steady himself; while the

others, all growing the same height, did not need to do so."

"Thank you," James said. "I understand now, and will bear it in mind.

It is very interesting, and I should like, above all things, to be able

to read the signs of the woods as you do."

"It will come, lad. It's a sort of second nature. These things are

gifts. The redskin thinks it just as wonderful that the white man

should be able to take up a piece of paper covered with black marks,

and to read off sense out of them, as you do that he should be able to

read every mark and sign of the wood. He can see, as plain as if the

man was still standing on it, the mark of a footprint, and can tell you

if it was made by a warrior or a squaw, and how long they have passed

by, and whether they were walking fast or slow; while the ordinary

white man might go down on his hands and knees, and stare at the

ground, and wouldn't be able to see the slightest sign or mark. For a

white man, my eyes are good, but they are not a patch on a redskin's. I

have lived among the woods since I was a boy; but even now, a redskin

lad can pick up a trail and follow it when, look as I will, I can't see

as a blade of grass has been bruised. No; these things is partly natur

and partly practice. Practice will do a lot for a white man; but it

won't take him up to redskin natur."

Not until night had fallen did the party again launch their canoes on

the lake. Then they paddled for several hours until, as James imagined,

they had traversed a greater distance, by some miles, than that which

they had made on the previous evening. He knew, from what he had

learned during the day, that they were to land some six miles below the

point where Lake George joins Lake Champlain, and where, on the

opposite side, on a promontory stretching into the lake, the French

were constructing their new fort.

The canoes were to be carried some seven or eight miles through the

wood, across the neck of land between the two lakes, and were then to

be launched again on Lake Champlain, so that, by following the east

shore of that lake, they would pass Ticonderoga at a safe distance. The

halt was made as noiselessly as before, and, having hauled up the

canoes, the men slept till daybreak; and then, lifting the light craft

on their shoulders, started for their journey through the woods. It was

toilsome work, for the ground was rough and broken, often thickly

covered with underwood. Ridges had to be crossed and deep ravines

passed, and, although the canoes were not heavy, the greatest care had

to be exercised, for a graze against a projecting bough, or the edge of

a rock, would suffice to tear a hole in the thin bark.

It was not until late in the afternoon that they arrived on the shores

of Lake Champlain. A fire was lighted now, the greatest care being

taken to select perfectly dry sticks, for the Iroquois were likely to

be scattered far and wide among the woods. The risk, however, was far

less than when in sight of the French side of Lake George. After

darkness fell, the canoes were again placed in the water, and, striking

across the lake, they followed the right-hand shore. After paddling for

about an hour and a half, the work suddenly ceased.

The lake seemed to widen on their left, for they had just passed the

tongue of land between the two lakes, and on the opposite shore a

number of fires were seen, burning brightly on the hillside. It was

Ticonderoga they were now abreast of, the advanced post of the French.

They lingered for some time before the paddles were again dipped in

water, counting the fires and making a careful note of the position.

They paddled on again until some twelve miles beyond the fort, and then

crossed the lake and landed on the French shore.

But the canoes did not all approach the shore together, as they had

done on the previous nights. They halted half a mile out, and Captain

Rogers went forward with his own and another canoe and landed, and it

was not for half an hour that the signal was given, by an imitation of

the croaking of a frog, that a careful search had ascertained the

forest to be untenanted, and the landing safe.

No sooner was the signal given than the canoes were set in motion, and

were soon safely hauled up on shore. Five men went out, as usual, as

scouts, and the rest, fatigued by their paddle and the hard day's work,

were soon asleep.

In the morning they were about to start, and Rogers ordered the canoes

to be hauled up and hidden among the bushes, where, having done their

work, they would for the present be abandoned, to be recovered and made

useful on some future occasion.

The men charged with the work gave a sudden exclamation when they

reached the canoes.

"What is that?" Rogers said angrily. "Do you want to bring all the

redskins in the forest upon us?"

"The canoes are all damaged," one of the scouts said, coming up to him.

There was a general movement to the canoes, which were lying on the

bank a few yards' distance from the water's edge. Every one of them had

been rendered useless. The thin birch bark had been gashed and slit,

pieces had been cut out, and not one of them had escaped injury or was

fit to take the water. Beyond a few low words, and exclamations of

dismay, not a word was spoken as the band gathered round the canoes.

"Who were on the watch on this side?" Rogers asked.

"Nat and Jonathan took the first half of the night," one of the scouts

said. "Williams and myself relieved them."

As all four were men of the greatest skill and experience, Rogers felt

sure that no neglect or carelessness on their part could have led to

the disaster.

"Did any of you see any passing boats, or hear any sound on the lake?"

The four men who had been on guard replied in the negative.

"I will swear no one landed near the canoes," Nat said. "There was a

glimmer on the water all night; a canoe could not have possibly come

near the bank, anywheres here, without our seeing it."

"Then he must have come from the land side," Rogers said. "Some

skulking Indian must have seen us out on the lake, and have hidden up

when we landed. He may have been in a tree overhead all the time, and,

directly the canoes were hauled up, he may have damaged them and made

off.

"There is no time to be lost, lads. It is five hours since we landed.

If he started at once the redskins may be all round us now. It is no

question now of our scouting round the French fort, it is one of saving

our scalps."

"How could it have been done?" James Walsham asked Nat, in a low tone.

"We were all sleeping within a few yards of the canoes, and some of the

men were close to them. I should have thought we must have heard it."

"Heard it!" the hunter said contemptuously; "why, a redskin would make

no more noise in cutting them holes and gashes, than you would in

cutting a hunk of deer's flesh for your dinner. He would lie on the

ground, and wriggle from one to another like an eel; but I reckon he

didn't begin till the camp was still. The canoes wasn't hauled up till

we had sarched the woods, as we thought, and then we was moving about

close by them till we lay down.

"I was standing theer on the water's edge not six feet away from that

canoe. I never moved for two hours, and, quiet as a redskin may be, he

must have taken time to do that damage, so as I never heard a sound as

loud as the falling of a leaf. No, I reckon as he was at the very least

two hours over that job. He may have been gone four hours or a bit

over, but not more; but that don't give us much of a start. It would

take him an hour and a half to get to the fort, then he would have to

report to the French chap in command, and then there might be some talk

before he set out with the redskins, leaving the French to follow."

"It's no use thinking of mending the canoes, I suppose," James asked.

The hunter shook his head.

"It would take two or three hours to get fresh bark and mend those

holes," he said, "and we haven't got as many minutes to spare. There,

now, we are off."

While they had been speaking, Rogers had been holding a consultation

with two or three of his most experienced followers, and they had

arrived at pretty nearly the same conclusion as that of Rogers, namely,

that the Indian had probably taken two or three hours in damaging the

canoes and getting fairly away into the forest; but that, even if he

had done so, the Iroquois would be up in the course of half an hour.

"Let each man pack his share of meat on his back," Rogers said. "Don't

leave a scrap behind. Quick, lads, there's not a minute to be lost.

It's a case of legs, now. There's no hiding the trail of thirty men

from redskin eyes."

In a couple of minutes, all were ready for the start, and Rogers at

once led the way, at a long slinging trot, straight back from the lake,

first saying:

"Pick your way, lads, and don't tread on a fallen stick. There is just

one chance of saving our scalps, and only one, and that depends upon

silence."

As James ran along, at the heels of Nat, he was struck with the

strangeness of the scene, and the noiselessness with which the band of

moccasin-footed men flitted among the trees. Not a word was spoken. All

had implicit confidence in their leader, the most experienced bush

fighter on the frontier, and knew that, if anyone could lead them safe

from the perils that surrounded them, it was Rogers.

James wondered what his plan could be. It seemed certain to him that

the Indians must, sooner or later, overtake them. They would be aware

of the strength of the band, and, confiding in their superior numbers,

would be able to push forward in pursuit without pausing for many

precautions. Once overtaken, the band must stand at bay, and, even

could they hold the Indians in check, the sound of the firing would

soon bring the French soldiers to the spot.

They had been gone some twenty minutes only, when a distant war whoop

rose in the forest behind them.

"They have come down on the camp," Nat said, glancing round over his

shoulder, "and find we have left it. I expect they hung about a little

before they ventured in, knowing as we should be expecting them, when

we found the canoes was useless. That war whoop tells 'em all as we

have gone. They will gather there, and then be after us like a pack of

hounds.

"Ah! That is what I thought the captain was up to."

Rogers had turned sharp to the left, the direction in which Ticonderoga

stood. He slacked down his speed somewhat, for the perspiration was

streaming down the faces even of his trained and hardy followers. From

time to time, he looked round to see that all were keeping well

together. Although, in such an emergency as this, none thought of

questioning the judgment of their leader, many of them were wondering

at the unusual speed at which he was leading them along. They had some

two miles start of their pursuers, and, had evening been at hand, they

would have understood the importance of keeping ahead until darkness

came on to cover their trail; but, with the whole day before them, they

felt that they must be overtaken sooner or later, and they could not

see the object of exhausting their strength before the struggle began.

As they ran on, at a somewhat slower pace now, an idea as to their

leader's intention dawned upon most of the scouts, who saw, by the

direction they were taking, that they would again strike the lake shore

near the French fort. Nat, who, light and wiry, was running easily,

while many of his comrades were panting with their exertions, was now

by the side of James Walsham.

"Give me your rifle, lad, for a bit. You are new to this work, and the

weight of the gun takes it out of you. We have got another nine or ten

miles before us, yet."

"I can hold on for a bit," James replied. "I am getting my wind better,

now; but why only ten miles? We must be seventy away from the fort."

"We should never get there," Nat said. "A few of us might do it, but

the redskins would be on us in an hour or two. I thought, when we

started, as the captain would have told us to scatter, so as to give

each of us some chance of getting off; but I see his plan now, and it's

the only one as there is which gives us a real chance. He is making

straight for the French fort. He reckons, no doubt, as the best part of

the French troops will have marched out after the redskins."

"But there would surely be enough left," James said, "to hold the fort

against us; and, even if we could take it, we could not hold it an hour

when they all came up."

"He ain't thinking of the fort, boy, he's thinking of the boats. We

know as they have lots of 'em there, and, if we can get there a few

minutes before the redskins overtake us, we may get off safe. It's a

chance, but I think it's a good one."

Others had caught their leader's idea and repeated it to their

comrades, and the animating effect soon showed itself in the increased

speed with which the party hurried through the forest. Before, almost

every man had thought their case hopeless, had deemed that they had

only to continue their flight until overtaken by the redskins, and that

they must, sooner or later, succumb to the rifles of the Iroquois and

their French allies. But the prospect that, after an hour's run, a

means of escape might be found, animated each man to renewed efforts.

After running for some distance longer, Rogers suddenly halted and held

up his hand, and the band simultaneously came to a halt. At first,

nothing could be heard save their own quick breathing; then a confused

noise was heard to their left front, a deep trampling and the sound of

voices, and an occasional clash of arms.

"It is the French column coming out," Nat whispered, as Rogers,

swerving somewhat to the right, and making a sign that all should run

as silently as possible, continued his course.

With Wolfe in Canada: The Winning of a Continent · 第 11 / 21 章