DEFEAT OF THE ENGLISH
The explosion of the musket had been so unexpected that for the moment
Dave and Henry hardly knew what had happened. Dave felt something hit
him on the bottom of his left cheek and putting up his hand withdrew it
covered with blood. Henry, too, was hit by a flying fragment of the gun
barrel which clipped off a lock of his hair. Poor Barringford lay like
one dead.
Before Dave could recover the Indians were on them, whooping as if their
very lives depended upon it. One threw a tomahawk at Dave, but the aim
was poor and the weapon buried itself in the log which had sheltered our
friends.
But just at this moment, when all seemed lost, the battleground shifted
and instantly thirty or forty English red-coats burst from the woods
directly behind the Indians. A volley rang out and four of the redmen
pitched forward, shot through the back. Other bullets hit the log behind
which our friends lay, but Dave, Henry, and Barringford were not
touched.
Attacked so unexpectedly from a new quarter, the Indians appeared dazed.
They attempted to turn upon the English soldiers, but when two more were
laid low, they fled to one side, where there was a dense growth of
walnuts. The soldiers at once made after them, and another skirmish took
place in the forest.
"Are you hurt much, Sam?" asked Henry, when he had recovered
sufficiently to speak.
"I--I reckon not," was the gasped-out answer, after a long silence.
Barringford opened his eyes and gazed ruefully at the gun stock which
lay at his feet. "Busted! Well, by gum! Didn't think Old Trusty would do
it nohow. Ain't ye ashamed?" And he shook his head dolefully. He had
carried the firearm for many years, as our old readers know, and to have
it "go back on him" like this hurt him more than had the explosion.
"It singed your beard pretty well," said Dave. "You can be thankful it
didn't blow your face to pieces."
"We must get out of here!" cried Henry. "See, the French are coming!"
Henry was right, the French column had suddenly appeared on the brow of
a neighboring hill. Those of the English who were in view received a
galling fire and then the enemy came forward with a rush. Our friends
were glad enough to retreat, and join the main body of rangers once
more.
Unfortunately for the English, Major Grant had divided his force and now
as the French commander came on he ordered that the smaller of the
English commands be surrounded. This was done, and though Major Grant
did his best to bring his command together again, it was impossible to
do so. The English became hopelessly separated, and by the time the
fighting came to an end the major and a large number of his officers and
men were made prisoners.
"We are catching it and no mistake," panted Dave, after another stand
had been made, during which Barringford had provided himself with
another gun--one taken from the hands of a dead grenadier. "The French
mean business."
"Here they come again!" exclaimed Henry. "Look! look! they seem to have
re-enforcements!"
Henry was right, and it must be admitted that the attack of the French,
with the Indians on the left flank, was a superb one. The shock of the
two armies coming together was terrific, and soon hand-to-hand
encounters were taking place in hundreds of places at once. Guns and
pistols rattled constantly and the keen frosty air of late fall was
filled with smoke. The grass being wet with dew many slipped and fell
and not a few soldiers were trampled to death by frightened horses. It
was a scene not easily forgotten and reminded Dave strongly of that
other battle when General Braddock had suffered bitter defeat and death.
And bitter defeat was again to be the portion of the English. Major
Grant's force was not strong enough to resist the combined onslaught of
French and Indians, and at last word came to retreat, and in the
gathering darkness the English fell back, taking with them a number of
their wounded. How many of the wounded were left on that cold
battlefield to die from exposure will never be known. Snow was now
falling and a wind came up that chilled every soldier to the bone.
"It's another Braddock victory," said Barringford, sarcastically, as he
limped painfully along, a horse having stepped on the toes of his left
foot. "Them reg'lars don't understand fightin' in the woods nohow. Ye
hev got to fight Injuns Injun fashion, an' French likewise. 'Twon't do
no good to set yerself up like a target to be shot at."
"We have lost about three hundred men, killed, wounded and captured,"
said Dave. "I wonder what General Forbes will say to that?"
"I fancy he's too sick to say much," said Henry. He spoke thus for
General Forbes had been on a sick bed for several weeks and had had to
be carried forward on a litter whenever his command moved.
The news that Major Grant's command had been whipped and driven back,
and the major and many of his officers taken prisoners, was quickly sent
to General Forbes, and at once a council of war was held. It was decided
that the entire army should be sent forward without delay, and the
soldiers moved onward as rapidly as the state of the road permitted. By
the time the re-enforcements arrived the French and Indians had
retreated to Fort Duquesne, for additional ammunition and general
supplies, and to take care of their wounded and prisoners.
Once again Washington urged that a swift march be made on the fort. "It
is our only chance of success," he said. "In a few weeks winter will be
on us and then the campaign in this wilderness must come to an end."
There was no disputing his words, for the snow continued to fall and
when it did not snow it rained and the wind kept growing colder and
colder every day until even the most hardy of the soldiers began to
grumble over the discomforts of camp life. Forward went the whole army,
toiling painfully through the forest, where only an imperfect Indian
trail led the way. General Forbes was now weaker than ever and others
urged him to go back. But, full of determination, he refused, and
continued to direct the movements of his army from his sick bed. His
devotion to duty was wonderful and something well worthy of being
remembered.
Dave and Henry suffered with the other soldiers. Frequently when night
came they had to rest in clothing that was soaked through and through,
and the one grain of comfort they extracted from their situation was the
thought that each day's march brought them so much nearer to the spot
where they supposed little Nell was being kept a prisoner.
"I won't complain if only we get her back," said Henry. And Dave agreed
heartily.
It was now the middle of November, and winter had begun to set in in
earnest. Ice was forming on every pool and slow-running brook and snow
storms were frequent, although none of them amounted to much. The nights
were the worst and many a large camp-fire did the soldiers build to keep
themselves warm. An advance guard was out constantly, to guard against a
surprise, but no French or hostile Indians appeared.
Late one afternoon there were a number of shots fired in the distance
and half an hour later a small vanguard came in bringing with them a
number of French and Indian prisoners. These prisoners were closely
questioned and from them it was learned that the French and Indians at
the fort were suffering greatly from sickness and from a lack of
supplies,--the latter having failed to reach Fort Duquesne on account of
the English victories in the north.
"If you hurry you may take the fort with ease," said one of the
prisoners, who wished to curry favor with his captors.
This news was most encouraging and it was ordered that the main body of
soldiers should push on again, leaving the artillery and supply wagons
to come up later. The news placed Dave and Henry in the best of spirits,
and they pushed on as quickly as anybody, with Barringford beside them.
But progress was slow, for there were many hills to cross, and on
retreating the French had left many fallen trees in the pathway, and in
one spot was a dangerous pitfall, into which the enemy had thrown
several wolves. A couple of grenadiers fell into this pitfall and were
sadly bitten by the half-starved beasts before being rescued.
At last those in advance reckoned that they were now but one day's
journey from Fort Duquesne. The ground looked familiar to Dave and
presently Barringford pointed out the spot where the young soldier and
his father had been re-united after the battle under Braddock.
Soon from a distance came a hurrahing, which every instant increased in
volume. "The fort is deserted! The French and Indians are retreating!"
"Can that be possible?" burst from Henry's lips. "Come, let us find
out!"
He rushed forward, and Dave and Barringford quickly followed. Soon they
were in the vanguard, which was scrambling over fallen trees and
brushwood and climbing the last hill which separated the English
soldiers from the fort. There was a thick smoke ahead and presently they
saw a column of flame shoot up, followed by a dull explosion.
"They have fired the fort," said Barringford. "Reckon as how they'll
burn everything they can't carry."
By the time the soldiers reached the vicinity of the stronghold the fire
was burning low. Only a small portion of the stockade was gone, with one
or two small buildings and what had been left of the stores. An Indian
was found nearby, suffering from a broken leg, and he gave the
intelligence that the French command had retreated down the Ohio. Some
had gone only a few hours before and others had left three days
previous.
"And what of the prisoners they had?" asked Henry, as soon as he could
get the chance.
"The prisoners were taken away three days ago."
"Were there any little girls among them?"
"Yes, four little maidens. One from the south and three from the east,
with two women and forty-one men," was the reply.
"Three girls!" murmured Henry. "One of them must have been Nell! And
they took them off three days ago? Oh, Dave, I'm afraid we have lost her
forever!"