Between the Lines
As the sun slowly sank behind the hills in the west, I forgot the thirst
and the hunger which had assailed me. So great was the fear in my mind
because of what we were about to attempt, that bodily discomforts seemed
as nothing.
It was a most daring venture we were to make, and one wherein the chances
were no less than ninety and nine out of an hundred that we would be
killed or captured before having well started on the enterprise, and yet
the attempt must be made, however faint-hearted we might be, for, as I
have already said, there was as much danger in retreating as advancing.
The only thing in our favor was that the night promised to be dark.
Already were clouds hiding the setting sun, the wind was growing stronger,
and it was reasonable to believe that within an hour the heavens would be
covered as with a black veil.
After having succeeded in attracting the attention of the sentinels,
Sergeant Corney crept back to my side, lying there at full length and in
silence. I believed his anxiety as to the outcome of this mad venture was
so great that he did not dare indulge in conversation, and because of such
idea was I even more cast down in spirit.
I tried to count the seconds in order to have some knowledge of the
passage of time; but could not fix my mind upon such a simple act.
When it seemed to me as if the night was considerably more than
half-spent, I whispered tremblingly to my companion:
"Have you given over tryin' to gain the fort?"
"Why should you think so, lad?" he asked, as if in surprise. "We had best
make the venture after midnight, rather than now while the enemy is
astir."
So great was my fear as to what the future might have in store for us that
I had failed to hear the hum of voices, until my attention was thus
attracted, and then I realized that it was yet quite early in the evening,
instead of well toward morning, as I had supposed.
Because he did not speak again I understood that Sergeant Corney was not
inclined for conversation, and I lay there motionless and silent until it
was as if twice four and twenty hours had passed, when the old man, rising
to a sitting posture, whispered, cautiously:
"I reckon, lad, that the time has come for us to make a try at deliverin'
the general's message. As I figger it, we had best bear off to the
westward, strikin' the fort on that side nearabout where the fragment of a
bush stands, than to push on for the main gate. It seems reasonable the
enemy will watch that part of the works closer than any other, in order to
guard against a sortie, an' if Colonel Gansevoort has been told of our
signals, every sentinel will be on the alert for us."
"Well?" I asked, as he ceased speaking for an instant.
"We'll do the trick after this fashion: You shall go ahead, an' I'll keep
two or three paces in the rear."
"Why do you propose such a plan as that?" I asked, suspiciously, and the
old man replied, hesitatingly, as if averse to having his reasons known:
"In case they see us before we are well on our way, he who is in advance
stands the best show of escapin'."
"But why should my chances be made any better than yours?" I asked,
angrily, for even though I was afraid of the venture, it was not in my
mind to be treated like a child, as seemed to be the case when the old man
was considering my safety rather than his own.
"Well, lad, there are two reasons, 'cordin' to my way of figgerin', but
the last is the strongest. First off, I have a much shorter time to live
in this world than you, therefore, if one life is taken, it had best be
mine, so far as the patriot cause is concerned. Then agin, an' this has
weight to it, in case we are chased you should be able to run faster than
me, an' we must bear in mind the fact that to deliver the message is the
one important thing--our lives amount to very little compared with that."
I could not well make protest after this explanation, and, in fact, it
seemed to me that there was little choice of position. If the enemy
discovered us at any time while we were between the lines, our fate was
well-nigh certain, and he who was three paces in advance would have no
more show of escaping the bullets than the one who remained in the rear.
"Are we to go now?" I asked, striving earnestly to prevent my voice from
trembling.
"Ay, lad, I reckon it's time," and the old man tightened his belt as he
spoke. "Throw away your rifle, or strap it on your back where there's no
chance it will hinder the progress, an', once havin' started, keep your
mind well on the fact that we must get there, heedin' not what lies
behind."
Then he gently forced me to the edge of the thicket, where we halted an
instant to make certain there was no one in the immediate vicinity, after
which was begun such an advance as I hope never to be forced into again,
for of a verity it was nerve-shattering.
Strive as I might it was impossible, during the first two or three minutes
of the painful journey, to prevent myself from fancying that half a dozen
of Thayendanega's painted wolves were creeping up close behind me,
enjoying the mental torture caused by my suspense, and then suddenly my
mind was cleared of fears, even as the heavens are of clouds after a
storm, as I ceased to think of what lay behind, remembering that my
efforts _must_ be successful else patriot blood might flow in streams.
We were lying flat upon the ground, pulling ourselves painfully along by
our hands, and pushing with our toes whenever it was possible to get a
leverage on the hard earth, moving perhaps no more than twelve inches each
moment.
Had St. Leger's sentinels kept the strict watch which the siege demanded
of them, we would not have gone a dozen paces before being discovered.
But that we did move out from the thicket without causing an alarm was, as
I believe, due to the fact that the enemy contented themselves with
watching the main gate of the fort, fancying that only from such quarter
could any danger menace them. They had so many scouts out between the fort
and Oriskany that it probably seemed to be an absolute impossibility any
of the patriots could come through their lines undetected.
However it may be, we did succeed in crossing that open space without
being seen by those who would have delighted in torturing us to death; but
it was as if I lived a full lifetime before coming within the deep shadows
cast by the walls on the west side, at the point decided upon by Sergeant
Corney.
Some moments before we arrived I understood, and my heart literally
bounded with joy, that those on the inside were already aware of our
approach, and waiting to receive us, for we heard subdued voices from the
sentinels on the walls, as if they were giving information to those below
of our progress.
"It's a big thing we have done, lad," Sergeant Corney said, as he drew
himself up by my side while both of us hugged the earthworks as limpets do
a rock. "It stands to reason we'll be in danger many a time before we go
out from this world, unless it so chances that we come to grief here; but
I dare venture to say we'll never be nearer death than we have been since
leaving the thicket."
The relief of mind was so great, and the knowledge that we had come thus
far undetected under the very eyes of a watchful enemy was so
overpowering, that I could not for a moment make reply, and by the time I
had gathered my scattered senses--scattered through very joy--we heard
voices from the inside which told that the men were seeking to learn
exactly where we were.
"Keep right on till you come to the horn-works," I heard a voice whisper,
and the words had little or no meaning to me, for I was not familiar with
the names of different portions of a regular fort; but the sergeant seemed
to understand the command, for he began to creep in a southerly direction,
still keeping within the shadow of the wall, until we arrived where was a
stockade.
This, as I afterward came to know, was the "horn-works," which as yet was
in an unfinished condition, and protected by a stockade of logs, between
each of which last were spaces, in some cases two or three inches wide.
By lying with our faces against these narrow openings, it was possible to
hold converse with those on the inside almost as well as if we were within
the walls.
"Who are you, and where did you come from?" a voice asked, and Sergeant
Corney took it upon himself, much to my relief, to act as spokesman.
"Messengers sent by General Herkimer, who have come from Oriskany."
"When did you leave there?"
"Yesterday."
"We thought the woods were overrun with Indians and Tories."
"So they are; but by some lucky chance we have come through thus far in
safety, and would have speech with the commandant."
"I am Colonel Gansevoort. My people saw your signal this afternoon, and I
myself have been watching for your arrival, but supposed you to be
fugitives, for I never dared hope there was a possibility of
reinforcements so near at hand. Will you make an attempt to get in by the
sally-port?"
"Is there any other entrance, sir?"
"Yes; but the enemy have been keeping sharp watch there since noon, as if
thinking something of this same kind might be attempted."
"We will deliver our message, sir, and then decide what to do," the old
man said, grimly. "The words had best be repeated now, for we may be
unable to utter them half an hour later."
Then Sergeant Corney delivered the message with which we were charged, and
during a full minute after he ceased speaking the commandant remained
silent.
When he spoke again, it was to say:
"It would be folly to give him now the signal of your arrival, since to
discharge one of the cannon when there is no direct target in sight would
be to apprise St. Leger of all the facts. If it were possible for you to
return, I would say that we will signal the moment my men are ready for
the sortie."
"I am of the mind that there will be no more danger in going back than in
trying to enter the fort," Sergeant Corney said, half to himself.
"Doubtless the enemy are watchin' the sally-port so closely that we would
be seen tryin' to gain it, for on that side the shadow is less than here,
and if there be large numbers posted to prevent an entrance, then must we
come to grief."
"Meaning what?" Colonel Gansevoort asked, with no slight tinge of
impatience in his tone, as if he did not care to hear the old soldier
summing up all the situation.
"Meanin' that we are runnin' no greater risks in goin' back to General
Herkimer, or at least not many more, than by tryin' to gain admission to
the fort."
"It will simplify matters if you choose to return; but I would not ask any
man to do so, in view of all the danger."
"What do you say, lad?" Sergeant Corney asked, laying his hand on my
shoulder, and, although I would have given anything I possessed to have
been at that moment behind the walls, I was not minded to show that my
courage was less than his, therefore I replied:
"It is for you to say, accordin' to the agreement we made."
"But I would not set off against your wishes, because of the danger in the
road, although I claim it would be quite as great if we attempted to enter
the fort at once."
"Then it is decided you will return to General Herkimer," Colonel
Gansevoort said, quickly, as if fearing lest we might repent of our
decision. "Tell him that within five minutes after giving the signal we
will make a sortie from the main gate in the direction of Oriskany."
"An' if it should be that we didn't get through alive?" Sergeant Corney
said as if to himself, and the commandant replied, quickly:
"In such case, without means of knowing what has happened to you, we shall
make the sortie and shed much blood uselessly. Is there anything I can do
for you before you start?"
The old soldier hesitated, as if unable to think of anything we needed,
and I, remembering the hunger which had assailed us while we lay hidden in
the thicket, replied:
"If it so be you could spare us a bit of corn bread, we would be the
better able to make a hurried journey."
"That you shall have, and in plenty," the commandant said, as if relieved
at knowing our wants could be gratified with so little trouble, and
Sergeant Corney added:
"Only so much as we can put in our pockets, for this is not the time to
encumber ourselves even with provisions."
Some of the soldiers who had been standing near by hurried away, returning
a few moments later with as much bread as would have served to satisfy our
hunger for a week at least.
When such a quantity as we needed for one meal had been pushed out between
the logs of the stockade, my companion whispered to the commandant:
"We shall strike into the thicket to the westward, making a circle to the
south around the fort, until coming to the road leading to Oriskany,
crossing the river just below here, and now, sir, if you have no further
demands, we will go."
"May God have you in His keeping," the colonel said, fervently, and
without waiting to hear more the old soldier set off, this time leaving
it for me to bring up the rear.
Now it was I came to understand that the rain was beginning to fall; the
wind came in spiteful gusts, betokening a storm, and I could have hugged
myself with glee at the thought that the elements were favoring us in the
attempt which, at the outset, had seemed doomed to failure.
Before we had traversed half the distance from the fort to the thicket on
the westerly side, the rain was falling heavily, and the wind whistling at
such a rate as to have drowned any ordinary noise we might make in forcing
our way through the foliage.
Never had a storm, which promised much bodily discomfort, been so warmly
welcomed by me; never had one been more sadly needed by those who fought
against the king and his savage followers for the cause of American
liberty.
It is well known that Indians, like cats, are averse to exposing their
bodies to rain, and when we set out on the return I had but little fear,
believing that every one of Thayendanega's followers would be hugging his
lodge closely, while the Tories would find it difficult to discern us from
any great distance as we lay prone upon the ground.
Lest I spend too many words in the telling of it, let me say, in short,
that we gained the thicket without causing an alarm, and, what was really
strange, made our way through it in a westerly direction for fully a mile
without meeting any living being.
Then it was that Sergeant Corney came to a halt, and, taking the corn
bread from his pocket, began to munch it greedily as he said to me,
speaking indistinctly because of the fulness of his mouth:
"I reckon, lad, we've passed the Britishers' lines, an' can begin to
circle southward from this point."
While we were creeping away from the fort, beginning the second journey
before having had time to rest from the first, I had said to myself again
and again that it was the act of madmen for us to make any attempt at
gaining General Herkimer's forces. In the first place there was no real
necessity for such dangerous labor, because the signal could have been
given by Colonel Gansevoort at a reasonably early hour next morning, and
thus our commander would have known that the message was delivered. We
were risking our lives foolishly, and when the old soldier spoke of making
a circle from that point, in a tone which told that he was very well
contented with himself and what he had done, I lost my temper, and
replied, sharply:
"Ay, we have got through the lines safely because of the storm, which was
a lucky chance in our favor, and one we could not have foreseen when you
were so foolish as to propose that we go back to-night."
"It would have pleased you better had we made the attempt to get into the
fort?"
"Ay, ten times over, for then instead of roaming these woods, taking a
fool's chances of bein' shot down, we might be comfortable and in safety."
"An' remained there so long as pleased Colonel Gansevoort, for once inside
that fort we placed ourselves under his command."
"Well, and why not?" I asked, in surprise.
"Because it does not please me to linger when there is other work to be
done."
"But there was no real need of undertakin' this task," I said, with
irritation.
"Yet it gave us an excuse to which he would listen for leavin', when, had
we told the truth, I question if he had not tried to stop us."
"Well, what is the truth?" I cried, sharply.
"Is there nothin' in your mind that we are bound to do, now the message
has been delivered?"
"Do you mean to aid Jacob?" I asked, as a sudden light began to dawn on
me.
"Ay, lad, all of that. Neither you nor I would have let him gone alone in
the hopeless task of rescuin' his father, had it not been that duty
demanded of us to keep our faces turned toward yonder fort. Now we have
done that which General Herkimer required, we can set out to fulfil our
duty toward the lad, an' this goin' back on the road to Oriskany is but
little more than we would be forced to do in order to gain the spot where
we parted with him, for I'm countin' that he was then near by the place
where his father is held prisoner."
I could have hugged the old man, but that he might have fancied I had
lost my senses.
When we parted with Jacob there was no thought in my mind that Sergeant
Corney had the slightest idea of joining in what was a most desperate
venture, and I even fancied he felt a certain sense of relief in having
such a good excuse for not sticking his nose into the Indian encampment.
But now I understood that all the while he held firm to the determination
to do whatsoever he might toward aiding Peter Sitz, and I began to feel
real affection for the noble old man.
Whether we might be able to find Jacob or not, and the chances were that
he had already been made prisoner, we could say to ourselves that the poor
lad was not deserted by us in his hour of need, and, if the worst
happened, it would be no slight satisfaction to us in after years.
The storm increased each moment, and we were soon wetted to the skin, but
hardly conscious of the discomfort because of the safety which this
downpour brought to us.
I had never given Sergeant Corney credit for any great knowledge of
woodcraft, because he came to us from over the seas where his life had
been spent fighting battles in the open, and could not be expected to cope
with the savage foe, as did our people who had always been accustomed to
the skulking methods of warfare practised by the redskins.
Now, however, I was forced to give him credit for being wiser than I in
the forest, since in the darkness and amid the tumult caused by the wind
and rain he made the détour as if a broad trail stretched out before him
under the sunlight, and we half-circled around the fortification, at the
distance of a mile or more, without varying, so far as could be told, a
single hair from the true course.
Not until we were come to the trail which led to Oriskany did the old man
halt, and then it was to say to me:
"From this on I'm allowin' we had better be cautious how we move."
"But surely there is no danger of meetin' any of the savages now," I said,
like a simple, and he replied, with a laugh:
"True for you, lad; but General Herkimer was to begin an advance on the
mornin' after we left camp, and he should be nearabout. To run upon his
sentinels in the darkness might not be agreeable."
From that on, until half an hour had passed, we pressed forward
cautiously, and well it was that we did so, for suddenly I came upon a
levelled musket, which would have been discharged but for my crying out
quickly, as I swerved to one side:
"We are messengers for the general! We are friends!"
"You come from an odd direction if that be true," was the reply, and at
the same instant a vigorous hand seized me by the shirt-collar.
Then it was that Sergeant Corney stepped forward, as he asked:
"Are you of General Herkimer's force?"
"How much will it benefit you to get such information?"
"Nay, nay, friend; there is no need of bein' overcautious with us. We are
two of the three messengers who left camp at Oriskany to go to Fort
Schuyler, and are now returnin'."
"Returnin'?" the soldier said, for it was indeed one of General Herkimer's
sentinels whom we had come upon. "It must please you to skulk around among
the Tories and savages, if, after having once gained the fort, you come
back."
"That is exactly what we have done, my friend," Sergeant Corney replied,
gravely, "and for the good reason that Colonel Gansevoort had a message
for us to deliver to the general. You are right in questioning us, for
under such situations a soldier had best be overcautious than too
credulous. But now we ask to be sent to the commander."
"Have you seen any of the enemy near at hand?" the man asked.
"I can swear there are none within half a mile."
"Then come with me," and the sentinel deserted his post to lead us into
camp, a proceeding which called forth harsh criticisms from Sergeant
Corney, despite the fact that he was being benefited thereby.