THE RANGERS TO THE FRONT--CAPTAIN STARK'S TALE OF CAPTURE--TO ATTACK THE
ST. FRANCIS INDIANS
We reached the outlet at night, and remained in the boats, tossed about
on the water, which was quite rough. The Rangers were the first to land.
We marched by the portage path to the sawmills, and crossed the bridge
to the rising ground on the further side.
A party of the enemy met us there, but we killed some of them, drove
them off, and took several prisoners. Soon after, the grenadiers and
light infantry came up, and were followed by the rest of the army, which
remained over-night at the sawmills. The Canadians and Indians crept up
again, and fired on us from the bushes.
"S-Some of your Canawaugha friends, B-Ben, come to pay you a call."
[Sidenote: RANGERS ADVANCE TO LAKE CHAMPLAIN]
We got behind trees and bushes, and we and the French picked each other
off till night came.
Several of our men were wounded. How much the enemy suffered I do not
know, as the Indians drag off their dead. This would seem to be a matter
of no consequence, but I can assure you, that after you have been four
or five hours behind a tree, and heard the bullets plug into it, or zip
through the grass and bushes, close by, it's a great downfall when the
enemy have been driven off, to search the ground in front of you, and
find no dead or wounded, when you could take your oath that you had hit
three or four.
On the 23d, the Rangers were sent across the plain, to take a position
on the cleared land, next to Lake Champlain, near the breastwork.
When we got there, we found ourselves close to a small intrenchment, and
the men in it opened fire on us.
"There's no sense, Ben, in standing here, to be shot at," said Martin.
"No; let's drive them out of that intrenchment, and get behind it
ourselves. Come on, boys."
We ran toward this earthwork, firing as we advanced, and the French
cleared out as we were climbing over the bank.
The army now came over to the lake, and the artillery was brought up by
the provincials. Although the breastworks had been greatly strengthened,
the enemy abandoned them, and withdrew to the fort. The breastworks
afforded a good shelter for our men.
Our army began to throw up earthworks, and at night the Rangers were
sent into the trenches to pick off the enemy, and distract their
attention from the workmen.
All of our cannon had now been brought over; and on the night of the
twenty-fourth Bourlemaque, the French commander, abandoned the fort with
most of his army, and rowed down the lake, leaving four hundred men to
defend the place.
As soon as our guns were in place, a sharp cannonade began from both
sides.
Amherst wished to know what the soldiers under Bourlemaque were doing,
and a number of Rangers had been sent down the lake to watch them, and
some of them were constantly returning with news of the movements of the
enemy.
[Sidenote: THE FRENCH ABANDON TICONDEROGA]
A batteau and two whaleboats had been brought over from Lake George; and
on the night of the twenty-fifth Rogers ordered sixty of the Rangers to
embark in these boats, to cut a boom which the French had placed across
the lake, just above the fort.
When we were halfway to the boom, we saw lights moving at the fort, and
the enemy ran down to the shore, and began to get into their boats.
Rogers cried out: "They're getting ready to leave. Go for them, boys!"
Our boats attacked some of the enemy's batteaux which were separated
from the main body. We rowed among them and fired right and left. One of
the crews showed fight, but we killed three or four of them, and the
rest jumped overboard and swam ashore. Rogers sent our boat after
another boat. I was in the bow, and kept firing at them, till at last
they turned to the shore, and escaped into the woods. At about ten
o'clock, while we were still fighting, the fort blew up with a
tremendous noise.
We remained at this place, and in the morning took possession of the
boats that we had driven ashore. They contained a large quantity of
baggage,--fifty kegs of powder, and a number of cannon ball. Later in
the day I examined the fort. It was completely destroyed by the
explosion of its powder magazine.
Two hundred Rangers, under Captain Brewer, were sent to watch the enemy
at Crown Point. The rest of us were sent to the sawmills, to look out
for flying parties of the enemy. We remained there two weeks.
On the 12th of August we were ordered to the front of the army, and the
whole army marched to the fort at Crown Point, which had been blown up
and destroyed by the enemy.
I had not had a chance to talk to Captain Stark for a long time, and
when we camped at Crown Point, I went over to his quarters. He took me
into his hut and gave me a pipe.
[Sidenote: A FOOLISH ERRAND]
"I'm glad to see you, Comee. It's been some time since we met, and I
shall not see you again this campaign. I received orders to-day to take
two hundred men and cut a path through the woods to Fort No. 4. I am
very glad of it, for it will take me out of a fix I should have been in,
if I had remained here."
"How's that, Captain John?"
"General Amherst has sent Captain Kennedy and some other officers to try
and gain over the St. Francis Indians. I think it is a foolish errand,
which will breed trouble. I don't want to fight them. That is, I don't
mind fighting them, if they come down here, spoiling for a row. But I
don't want to go and attack them in their own region, for I am a member
of that tribe: I was adopted by them. You never suspected that I was a
full-fledged Indian warrior, did you, Ben?"
"No, indeed. How in the world can that be?"
"When I grew up, I went trapping and hunting at Baker's River, in the
spring of 1752, with David Stinson, Amos Eastman, and my brother
William. We made a camp with bark and boughs. There was plenty of game,
and we trapped over L500 worth of furs before the first of April. On the
twenty-seventh day of that month we saw the tracks of Indians, and
decided to get out of that region at once. I was twenty-three years old,
the youngest of our party, and was sent to take up the traps."
"Seems to me, Captain John, if I had L500 of furs, and saw tracks of
Indians, I'd have lit out with my furs, and not waited to pick up
traps."
"That would have been the right thing to do. That's what a sensible man
would have done. But if you had been there, you'd probably have been
just as big a fool as we were. You see if we had come back without our
traps, some one in the settlements would have been sure to laugh at the
scare we had over nothing. And we were young idiots, and took the risk.
"Just about sunset, I was stooping over the water, taking up a trap,
when I heard a sound like 'O whish!' I looked up, and saw several
redskins pointing their guns at me.
[Sidenote: THE CAPTIVES]
"They asked me where our camp was, and I led them two miles away from it
up the river.
"As I did not return to camp, the boys began to fire their guns to call
me back. The Indians ran through the woods, and got below them on the
river in order to head off the canoe as it came down.
"Eastman was on shore, and Stinson and my brother William were in the
canoe. Just after daybreak they caught Eastman as he was walking along
the bank. The Indians told me to hail the others, and call them to the
shore. I shouted to them: 'The Indians have got Eastman and me. Go down
the further shore.' They paddled away, and the Indians rose and fired. I
knocked up the muzzles of the guns of those near me, and as the rest
fired, I hit all the guns I could. One shot killed Stinson, and a bullet
went through the paddle which my brother held.
"I cried out, 'They've all fired, Bill. Get away as quick as you can.'
He paddled off, and the Indians gave me a good pounding, for which I
could not blame them."
"They must have been pretty angry with you."
"They were just boiling over, and at the same time they kind of liked me
for it, too.
"They were St. Francis Indians. There were ten of them under their
chief, Francis Titigaw. They took us up to the Connecticut River, where
we were joined by two Indians who had been left there. Then we went to
the upper Coos Intervale. Three of the Indians were sent with Eastman to
the village of St. Francis. The rest of us hunted on a small creek. They
let me do a little trapping, and gave me the skins of a couple of
beavers that I killed.
"Early in June we arrived at St. Francis, and they made Eastman and me
run the gauntlet. The young Indians formed two lines, and we were to run
down between them. Each Indian had a club or stick, and they gave
Eastman and me two poles about eight feet long, with the skin of an
animal or bird tied to the end.
"They taught us some words to sing as we passed down the line, and
pretty sassy words they were. Eastman sang, 'I'll beat all your young
men.' This made the young braves angry and every one struck at him, so
that he was pretty well used up when he got through the lines.
[Sidenote: RUNNING THE GAUNTLET]
"When my turn came, I sang, 'I'll kiss all your young women.' I had a
good, strong pole, and made up my mind that I would not be the only one
who got the blows. As I ran through the lines, I whacked away, right and
left, and this surprised them so much that I got through with but little
harm. Perhaps you think, as others do, that there is no fun in an
Indian. But the old men who sat near by were immensely tickled as their
young men went down, and they showed their pleasure.
"The first man who struck me was a young fellow eighteen or nineteen
years old. I knocked him down, and he felt so small about it that I did
not see him again while I was with them.
"An Indian doesn't work. He makes his squaws and prisoners do that. They
set me at work with the squaws, hoeing corn. I hoed up the corn instead
of the weeds. They tried to make me hoe the right way. But I made up my
mind that if they wouldn't hoe corn, I wouldn't. I threw my hoe into the
river, and told them that I was a warrior and not a squaw to hoe corn.
"Instead of being angry with me, they liked me for this, and the old
chief adopted me.
"They called me the young chief and treated me well. I learned something
of their language and ways of fighting that has been of advantage to me.
I never saw any prisoner of war treated with so much kindness as I was
by those St. Francis Indians. After I had been at the village five
weeks, Mr. Wheelwright, of Boston, and Captain Stevens, of No. 4, came
to Montreal, to redeem some Massachusetts prisoners. But not finding
them, they bought Eastman and me, and we returned with them by the way
of Albany. I worked hard afterward, and paid off my debt to the
Massachusetts Province. If there is to be any fight with these Indians,
I shall be glad if I am at work cutting out a road to Fort No. 4."
Early in September we heard that Captain Kennedy, who had been sent to
these St. Francis Indians, to persuade them to abandon the French and
make peace with us, had been made a prisoner by them with the men who
accompanied him, and had been sent to Montreal.
[Sidenote: CAPTAIN KENNEDY MADE PRISONER]
General Amherst was very angry at their treachery. On the afternoon of
September 13 we received orders to be in readiness to explore the
country west of us. We were told that we should go a short distance in
boats and then strike out to the west.
"This seems a silly trip, Ben," said Martin. "Fooling about in the woods
where there is no enemy. Our army ought to be following the French,
driving them down to the St. Lawrence. Then we could join our forces
with Wolfe's, and finish up the war."
"Sergeant Munro tells me that Amherst thinks he should restore the fort
and build some boats and ships first."
"Maybe, maybe; I'm not a general, but I believe that when you've got the
enemy on the run, you ought to keep them on the run till they give in,
and not sit down and give them a chance to get strong again."
That night we embarked in whaleboats. There were about two hundred men
in our party. It was made up of a few of Gage's light infantry, under
Captain Dunbar, and the rest were Rangers, among whom were fifty Mohegan
Indians from Stockbridge. We rowed over to the east shore and went down
the lake. Several canoes were sent ahead to warn us if any of the enemy
were out. Cloth was wound round our oars where they rested in the
rowlocks. We had orders not to utter a word, to make no noise.
The boats moved in single file close to the shore where it was darkest.
Before daybreak we landed and lifted the boats from the water and
carried them into the woods. We lay hidden there during the day. We did
not believe that we were going to the west, but could not guess the
purpose of the expedition.
The next night we embarked again, and rowed slowly in perfect silence
with an advanced guard of canoes.
Night after night we did this, always keeping in the shadow of the
shore; and as we got toward the lower part of the lake, we did not
start till late at night, and pulled our boats up into the bushes long
before the day began to break. Several times our scouts came back and
whispered that the enemy's boats were out. Then we went in close to the
shore and waited till they were out of hearing distance.
[Sidenote: A MYSTERIOUS EXPEDITION]
We were not allowed to make fires, and as we approached the lower end of
the lake and lay hidden in the woods, we could see sloops and boats of
the enemy out on the lake in the daytime. We had to proceed slowly and
with the utmost caution.
If we had not been on a perilous expedition into the enemy's country to
some unknown point and for some mysterious purpose, about which we were
worrying, this trip down the lake would have been delightful. The leaves
were just changing colour. The days were perfect. The lake was
beautiful, and we should have gazed with pleasure at the boats that we
saw, had we not known that they were full of enemies who would have been
well pleased to take our scalps and roast us at the stake.
On the fifth day out, by some accident there was an explosion of
gunpowder, and several of the men were burned and had to be sent back.
Some were sick, and returned with them, so that by the time we reached
Missisquoi Bay at the lower end of the lake our force was reduced to one
hundred and forty-five men.
It was apparent that this was no expedition to the west, and we were
astonished as we advanced night after night into the enemy's country and
close to their camp.
Edmund knew where we were going, but he was as close-mouthed as an
oyster.
"What in the w-world are we up to? Are we going to attack the French
army with one hundred and fifty men? I don't like these expeditions of
Major Rogers. I wish we had a good safe commander like that c-colonel
who was sent out on the lake to stop a party of French and Indians, and
landed on an island and formed his men in a circle round him, and
p-p-prayed that the Lord would send us a long war and a b-b-bloodless
war, and kept on praying till the enemy went by. A fellow has some
chance to keep his hair on his head with a g-good c-careful commander
like that; but this Rogers don't care where he g-goes or how many get
k-killed, so long as he can do something startling. What in time are we
up to?"
[Sidenote: AMOS PREFERS A CAREFUL COMMANDER]
I had been thinking over my talk with Captain Stark, and said:--
"I know what Rogers is about to do. We are going right up into Canada to
the St. Lawrence River, to attack the St. Francis Indians who made
Captain Kennedy and his men prisoners."
As I said this, Edmund laughed, and I knew that I had hit it.
"By the g-great Horn Spoon! That b-beats anything that Weaver David ever
dreamed of. Is that it, Edmund?"
"I can't tell you where we are going, but don't say a word of what you
suspect; for if any of our party were caught and knew where we were
going, it would be sure death for the rest of us; so just hold your
mouth and don't talk."