THE WAY TO CRANBERRY
IT was late in the evening when Tom started from Colonel Simcoe's camp
in company with the lieutenant, whose name he had learned was Ward, and
the band of six men. A hearty supper had greatly refreshed the weary
lad, and although he was aware that his companions were not without
suspicions of him, he still had hopes that he would be able to convince
them of his knowledge of the country roads, and then could leave them.
His efforts to convince the colonel that he was merely a country lad,
who had taken no part in the hostilities, had not been without a measure
of success, and if they met with no mishap on the road, doubtless they
would be willing for him to depart.
As to leading the little band into Cranberry, Tom had not the slightest
objection to that, for it would be going directly toward the place where
Washington's army lay, and every step was one nearer the men whom he was
most eager to join.
The entire party were mounted, and a horse was also provided for Tom. To
be sure, the steed was not a remarkable one, yet, as the lad looked him
over before he mounted, he was satisfied that riding would be much
easier than walking, and of walking Tom had had sufficient, he thought,
on that hot June morning.
"Now, my lad," said Lieutenant Ward, as the party prepared to move, "if
you do well by us this night, I have two half joes for you in my pocket.
On the other hand, if you fail us, or try to lead us into any trap, you
shall have a good taste of the lead my men carry, or know how it feels
to dance at one end of a rope with your feet a good yard from the
ground. You hear what I'm saying, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," Tom replied. "I can lead you straight to Cranberry, but of
course I can't tell what men we shall meet on the way. All I know is
that General Dickinson has men out, just as you have."
"Never mind your 'General' Dickinson. I only wish we might have the good
fortune to meet the rebel himself. You show us the way and we'll look
after any of his men we may fall in with. All we want of you is to show
us the way. They won't be likely to be out on the road in the night."
Tom by no means felt so positive concerning that as the lieutenant did,
but the word to start was then given, and mounting his horse he departed
from the camp with the men.
The moon was now full and hung low in the heavens like a great ball of
fire. The frogs in the swamps were croaking loudly as the men rode past.
The air of the summer night was almost motionless, and the heat of the
day had only slightly decreased with the coming of the darkness. In all
his life in Jersey, Tom had never known a hotter "spell"--as the natives
termed it--than they had experienced during the past few days. A Hessian
was riding beside him, and Tom could not understand how it was that he
still insisted upon wearing the heavy fur hat in such weather.
So intensely warm was the night that the band were compelled to halt at
frequent intervals to rest their dripping steeds. The occasional breeze
was like the hot breath from an oven, and, in spite of the fact that he
was riding, Tom's face was wet with perspiration. The progress was
necessarily slow, but the lad soon came to Doctor's Creek, and as they
found the bridge across that stream intact, the lieutenant was pleased
and warmly praised the young guide.
The Assanpink Creek was crossed not long afterwards, and as the bridge
across that also was still standing, the elation of the leader was
visibly increased and he ordered the men to halt for another rest. Some
without removing their clothing waded into the stream, which was narrow
and shallow where they were, and led their horses in after them. The
heaving sides of the poor beasts were wet with sweat and foam, and the
men themselves seemed to be but little better. Tom thought he had never
suffered more from the heat.
After a rest of a half hour the men resumed their journey. Thus far no
one had been met on the road, and the confidence of the band was
steadily increasing, in spite of the fact that they were approaching the
region in which the American army was supposed to be.
Five miles farther on they came to Rocky Branch and the bridge over this
stream was as strong and safe as those they had left behind them.
"The half joes are likely to be yours, my boy," said the lieutenant.
Tom made no reply, for he was thinking that something beside safe
bridges might be discovered before they arrived at their destination.
Only one more stream remained to be crossed, and then they would be in
Cranberry. Just where they were then to go, or what was to be done, Tom
did not know. Not a word had been spoken to him concerning the object of
the expedition, and all that he was expected to do was to lead the band
to Cranberry.
"How much farther have we to go, my boy?" inquired the leader.
"That depends upon the place you've started for," replied Tom. "We shall
be in Cranberry after we've gone about ten miles farther, but it covers
a good many miles. The township is a big one."
"We'll decide that after we get there. Have we any more streams to
cross?"
"Yes. The Millstone river isn't very far away now."
The rests had become so frequent that morning could not be far away, Tom
thought. With the appearance of the sun their dangers were likely to be
increased, but he made no mention of the fears in his heart, and the
band soon started on again.
When they arrived at the Millstone, the first break in the success of
the expedition was found, for the bridge was down. This plainly showed
that the Americans were not far distant now, and as the lieutenant drew
rein on his horse, he said,--
"This means that Sir Henry will find difficulty in getting his baggage
train across here. Do you know whether the stream can be forded?"
"Yes," replied Tom, pointing as he spoke to a place a little farther
down the stream. "We can wade our horses across there."
"But can the baggage wagons be driven through?"
"That I cannot say. I think not."
"We'll soon find out," said the lieutenant, leading the way to the ford.
The men all followed him, but as the water came well up to their horses'
flanks, it was at once evident that Clinton would find great difficulty
in getting his baggage train across. The party halted near the bank
after they had crossed the stream, and the lieutenant had an earnest
conversation with one of his men.
Tom could not hear their words, but he had no doubt that they were
discussing the possibilities of Clinton's march by the way they had
come that night.
"We'll go on a bit farther," said the lieutenant at last, and the men
obediently mounted and followed their leader.
The gray of the dawn had just appeared in the east, and the air was
filled with the songs of the birds. They were now in the township of
Cranberry, and the end of their journey could not be far away, Tom
thought, although he did not know what that end was to be. Thus far they
had come without trouble, but with the coming of the morning, and their
proximity to the American army, their difficulties were likely soon to
be increased.
The men were silent as they rode slowly forward, and were keeping a
constant watch on every side. The sun by this time had made its
appearance, and the day gave promise of being even warmer than the
preceding one. Before them they could see two rude little houses on
opposite sides of the road and at the end of lanes which led back from
the roadside. The one on the left Tom instantly recognized as the abode
of a Quaker named Nathan Brown, or "Friend Nathan," as his neighbors
called him. Many a time had Tom been there, and even then he recalled
many of the quaint expressions of the gentle man who had steadily
opposed all the hostilities, in accordance with his creed which forbade
even the resistance to tyrants.
As the lieutenant saw the two houses he drew the rein on his horse, and
the party halted.
"It's time we had some breakfast," he said. "I am wondering whether we
can't find something here in these houses. Do you know anything about
them, my lad?"
"I know the man that lives in the house on the left. He is a Quaker,"
replied Tom.
"All the better for us. I think I'll let you go up to his house, and
I'll send a man up to the other. The rest of us had better stay here and
keep watch, for there may be some prowling rebels around here, for all
that we may know."
"I'll go," said Tom quickly. "But I can leave you then, can't I? We're
in Cranberry now and all you wanted of me was to lead you there."
"Yes, if you wish," replied the lieutenant. "You've done well, but you'd
do better still to go back with us. The rebels are not far away, and you
may get into trouble. You must do as you like, though," he added.
"You've earned your pay," and he drew the two half joes from his pocket
and handed them to Tom.
The lad received the money, no small amount to him, and, after thanking
the lieutenant, started quickly up the lane which led to Nathan's house.
As he glanced behind him, he perceived that one of the men had started
towards the other house, while all the others had dismounted and were
still in the road, although they evidently were keeping a careful watch.
When Tom drew near the house he saw the Quaker standing in the doorway.
His broad-brimmed hat and the peaceful expression upon his face were in
marked contrast to the warlike men he had just left behind him in the
road.
"How now?" said Nathan, as he perceived who the approaching man was.
"Thee travels early, Friend Thomas; I trust all is well at thy house."
Tom quickly dismounted, and in a few words explained how it was that he
happened to be there, and what the purpose of his visit was.
"Thee doesn't say so!" said Nathan in surprise. "And the redcoats even
now are at my door and seek refreshment?"
"They are out in the road. They want some breakfast, and I think they'll
pay you for it."
"Friend Thomas, I think I can trust thee. I have known thee since thou
wert a little lad. Ah, these are sad times for men of peace! The sons of
Belial are on all sides. Verily, these days are days of wrath."
Tom was puzzled by Nathan's manner and made no reply. The man turned
quickly into the house and soon returned with a well-filled stocking in
his hands. Tom instantly surmised what the stocking contained, for he
was well aware of the banking purposes to which that article of clothing
was turned in many of the homes.
"Come with me, Friend Thomas," said Nathan, grasping a hoe as he spoke
and leading the way into his garden. There he dug a hole, and, placing
his "bank" within it, covered it again with the earth.
"But Nathan," protested Tom, "if these men search your place for money
they'll find this spot, and it'll show at once you've hidden something
there. The earth is all fresh and moist here, and it's dry all around
it."
"Yea, thou speakest truly, Friend Thomas, but I have a thought by which
I may yet outwit these men of war. Tarry here till I return."
The Quaker instantly turned and again entered the house. In a moment he
appeared, bearing a large bowl in each hand. One contained water, which
he poured over the place where his money was concealed, and the other
was filled with corn. He quickly scattered the corn over the wet ground,
and then, turning towards the barn, called, "Chick! Chick! Chick! Come,
chick! Come, chick!"
Instantly there was a fluttering within the barns, the doors to which
were wide open, and the hens came running from every direction.
Nathan's face took on a meaning smile as he watched his flock hastening
toward him for their breakfast, and then, turning to Tom, he said, "Is
it plain to thee, Friend Thomas, that it is still possible for a man of
peace to outwit these sons of Belial? Now go and tell thy companions
that such food as I have shall be set before them."
Tom laughed at the trick of the Quaker, and then ran back to his horse,
and, mounting, started towards his recent companions, whom he could see
still waiting in the road. Doubtless they were becoming impatient by
this time, and, without waiting to go all the way back to the road, he
stopped at a distance and called to them, beckoning with his hand for
them to come, as he shouted.
As soon as he perceived that the lieutenant heard him, he turned about
and once more rode back to Nathan's house. He then dismounted and tied
his horse to a post which stood near to the kitchen door.
As he glanced up he saw that the leader was riding alone up the lane and
now was near the house. Just then he heard the sound of a horse behind
him, and, turning quickly about, saw young Lieutenant Gordon dash past
him on horseback.
Amazed by the sudden and unexpected appearance of his friend, he stood
still and watched him as he rode swiftly up the lane directly toward the
approaching men. Gordon was leaning low on his horse's neck, and Tom
could see that he was grasping a pistol in his right hand.
Before the startled lad could fairly realize what was occurring, he saw
the young lieutenant raise his weapon and aim it at the approaching
horseman. He waited for the report, but none came. Again Gordon raised
his pistol, and once more it flashed without a report.
His heart almost stopped when he perceived that the other members of the
band had now entered the lane and were riding towards their leader,
although as yet they were far behind him. The young lieutenant had also
discovered them, and, instantly turning his horse about, dashed back up
the lane, with the British lieutenant in swift pursuit.
Unmindful of Tom, they swept past him, and Gordon turned the corner of
the barn. Twice around the barn the men raced their horses, and then
Gordon turned his horse into the open doorway and dashed through to the
other side.
After him followed the leader of the British band in desperate pursuit,
and then, as Tom glanced up, he saw his recent companions come shouting
and hallooing into the yard which was between the barn and Friend
Nathan's little house.