A STORM ON LAKE ONTARIO
When the soldiers under General Prideaux reached Oswego they found the
fort in ruins. Three years before the French and Indians under Montcalm
had won a victory there and before leaving had burnt up and otherwise
destroyed every building, large and small, and also every ship in the
harbor, and had taken away all the guns and ammunition and a large part
of the possessions of the settlers in that vicinity. On every side were
heaps of ashes and charred logs, some overgrown with weeds, and in the
midst of these stood a huge wooden cross, erected by Piquet, the French
priest, and on a tall pole hung the tattered arms of France. The scene
was one of unutterable loneliness and desolation, and it must be
confessed that something like a shiver went over Dave as he gazed upon
it.
"This shows what war will do," he said, to a comrade standing near.
"Think of how prosperous a trading post Oswego was three years ago, and
now look at this. Why even a wild animal would shun the spot--after
those skeletons were picked clean."
"True for you, lad," was the answer. "But I don't think it will be that
way again. General Prideaux means business, and so does General Johnson,
and the French will have to do some tall fighting to win out now."
The first of the soldiers arrived on the site of Oswego about the middle
of June, and it was only a few days later the remainder of the army came
up from Lake Oneida bringing the stores and baggage, including a great
many barrels of pork, which in those days formed a staple article of
soldiers' diet.
Dave was anxious to see Henry and Barringford again, and when the last
of the soldiers came up and went into camp not far from the lake and the
river, he hurried in that direction as soon as he was off duty.
"Oh, Sam!" he cried, when he caught sight of the old frontiersman and
saw the serious look on his face. "Where's Henry?"
"I can't tell you, Dave."
"Can't tell?"
"No, lad. After we went ashore at Lake Oneida he disappeared like as if
the earth had opened and swallowed him up."
"But--but didn't you look for him?"
"Dave you oughter know better nor to ask sech a question. Look? Why, I
tramped miles an' miles a-looking fer him,--an' fer them Injuns. But the
redskins got away, and we couldn't find Henry, alive or dead."
"Then they must have taken him prisoner."
"Thet's it, unless----"
"Unless what, Sam?"
"Wall, I don't like to say, lad. Let us hope fer the best."
"You mean they might have killed him and thrown his body into the lake?"
"Yes."
Dave drew a long breath. The thought was a horrible one. He shook his
head dismally.
"You didn't hear any shots, or any struggling?"
"Nary a sound, Dave. We went along as silently as ghosts and with our
ears wide open. I know Henry was along when we moved up the lake, but I
missed him jest as soon as we turned to come back. He had been next to
the lake front and I walked over to find out if he had seen anything of
the Injuns. But he was gone--and that was the end of it--although I and
the others hunted around until we simply had to give it up and come back
to report."
It was dismal news, and all Barringford could do did not cheer Dave up.
"First it was little Nell and now it's Henry," he said, soberly. "If
neither of them return what will Aunt Lucy say?"
As soon as the army was settled at Oswego General Prideaux had all of
the batteaux and other boats made ready for the trip along the lake
shore to Fort Niagara, a distance of about a hundred and thirty miles.
In the meantime Colonel Haldimand was placed in charge of the garrison
to be left at Oswego, with orders to rebuild the fort, and otherwise
strengthen the place, as speedily as possible. Haldimand, who during the
Revolution became Governor of Canada, was an able and energetic officer,
and went about the work assigned to him without delay. Soon the ring of
the axe was heard in the forest and the big timbers for the new fort
were being brought out as fast as the pioneer-soldiers could handle
them.
Prideaux had expected to embark for Niagara within a few days after
reaching Oswego where he was joined by Johnson with his seven hundred
Indians, but numerous delays occurred and it was not until the first of
July that his novel flotilla of boats, batteaux, and canoes set sail
westward over the mighty waters of Lake Ontario. All the time that the
army was at Oswego a sharp lookout was kept for the possible appearance
of French ships of war, or of transports carrying French troops, but
none came in sight.
"Not a sail in sight anywhere," said Dave to Schnitzer one day, when the
two were at the beach. "If the French are near they are keeping
themselves well hidden."
"Maybe da vos vaiting for a chanct to cotch us nabbing," answered the
Dutch soldier. "Dose Frenchers peen mighty schmart let me tole you. Of
da don't vos schmart den dis var vouldn't peen so long vinded, hey?"
"Oh, they know what they are doing, no doubt of that. I wouldn't be
surprised if they attacked Colonel Haldimand after we go away."
"Yah, dot is it, Tave--da vaits bis ve peen sphlit by two bieces und den
da fights first one bard und den der udder bard--und ve peen licked our
poots out, hey--maybe--of da peen schmart enough." And Hans Schnitzer
nodded his shaggy head vigorously.
Dave had been wondering if he would be ordered to remain behind with
those left at Oswego or if he was to go forward to Fort Niagara. He half
wished he would be told to remain behind, that he might have a chance to
go in search of Henry.
But this was not to be, and a few days later came word that the company
to which he belonged would go forward under General Prideaux.
"But I'm a-going to be left behind," said Sam Barringford. "I've got
orders to take charge o' the sharpshooters as is going to watch out here
while Colonel Haldimand rebuilds the old fort."
"Oh Sam, if you stay behind, won't you keep an eye open for Henry?"
"To be sure I will, lad--thought o' thet myself."
"Do you think those Indians are still sneaking around?"
"More'n likely not, Dave. Not if they war French spies. They've gone
across the lake to give warning of our coming."
"If they had Henry a prisoner they would take him along."
"Yes,--or worse."
Dave shook his head sadly, and went about his work, which was to see to
the loading of two batteaux, that were piled high with utensils
belonging to the culinary department of the army--for soldiers, like
ordinary mortals, must eat and if they are not served properly there is
apt to be a good deal of grumbling.
One day later the army was off, in a long string of batteaux and other
craft stretching out a distance of over a mile. It was truly an imposing
sight, for the leading batteau was flying the flag of England, and other
banners were by no means lacking. There was music, too, to lighten up
the hearts of the soldiers, and ringing cheers for good luck to the
enterprise.
It was General Prideaux's plan to hug the shore of the lake,
consequently the trip would be a little longer than if they sailed in a
direct line from Oswego to what is now the coast town of Carlton. The
reason for hugging the shore was, that the French might swoop down upon
the flotilla at any moment when out of sight of land, whereas, if the
English kept close to shore, they could at any moment turn into one of
the numerous bays or creeks, and there hide or throw up a temporary
defense.
The southern shore of Lake Ontario is to-day dotted with villages and
towns, but when General Prideaux's army sailed along this coast it
showed an almost unbroken front of gigantic timber, rough rocks and
stretches of sandy waste. Here and there was an Indian village, but the
warriors were away, either with the French or the English.
Much to Dave's disgust Lieutenant Naster was placed in charge of the
batteau, which contained besides Dave several soldiers who were hardly
known to our young soldier. When Naster saw Dave, he scowled but said
nothing.
"He has it in for me, that's certain," thought Dave. "I'll have to keep
my eyes wide open."
"I want none of your laziness," said the lieutenant, to Dave, an hour
later, and when all hands were resting on the oars. "I see you are not
pulling as well as the others, and it won't do."
"I thought I was doing my full share," answered Dave.
"Hi don't answer back, boy! Do as I tell you!"
In a few minutes the rowing was resumed. One of the soldiers, unnoticed
by the lieutenant, winked at Dave.
"He's a regular bear," he whispered. "Look out, or he'll make trouble
for you."
"He's tried to make trouble for me before," answered Dave, in an equally
low tone. "He doesn't like me because I stood up for old Campwell when
he was browbeating the man."
"Oh, so you were the soldier who interfered, eh? I heard of that case.
They say----"
"Silence over here, and attend to your rowing!" shouted the lieutenant
from his comfortable seat in the stern. "Don't you see how we are
lagging behind? Pull up there, all of you, or somebody will get the lash
to-night, instead of his supper."
After that but little was said, and the rowing continued steadily until
noon, when a brief halt was made for dinner. The lake was almost like
glass, so that while some of the batteaux drifted together, no damage
was done.
"If I know anything about it, this weather won't last," said one of the
soldiers, after a careful survey of the sky.
"It looks like a storm to me, too," said Dave. "But it may blow around
before it reaches here."
Yet the day passed without the storm coming, and that night the
occupants of the batteaux slept soundly on the shore of a tiny bay
opening up from the lake. At sunrise the army was again in motion and
once again the flotilla continued its journey westward.
Several soldiers who had been taken sick on the march to Oswego had been
left behind, but now others were overcome by the heat and the glare of
the sun on the water, and one batteau had to be turned into a floating
hospital. At one time Dave himself felt dizzy, but he said nothing, for
he well knew that Lieutenant Naster would have no mercy on him, sick or
well.
The sun had come up over the water like a great ball of fire and by nine
o'clock the day promised to prove more than usually hot. But an hour
later the clouds began to show up in the west and it became rapidly
cooler.
"We're in for that storm now," said a soldier to Dave. "See how the wind
is rising."
"Yes, and we are pretty far out from land now, too," added Dave. "I
reckon we ought to turn in."
One of the soldiers appealed to the lieutenant, but he would not listen
to advice. "Straight ahead," he roared. "You only want to go in that you
may rest. We have no time to fool away. A little rain won't hurt
anybody."
The wind rapidly increased in violence, and soon the black clouds
overshadowed the sun, making the surface of the lake dark and ominous
looking. Then came a gust that whirled the batteau around in spite of
all the rowers could do to keep the craft up to the wind. The waves
dashed up, drenching everybody.
"Oh!" cried Lieutenant Naster, for he had received some of the water
full in the face. "Steady there, you fools! Don't let her swing around!"
"If we don't pull to shore we'll be swamped!" cried one of the soldiers.
"I was a sailor for six years and I know this is going to be a big blow.
Give the order, lieutenant, unless ye want to see bottom putty quick."
At these words Lieutenant Naster turned pale. "Very well, turn about and
pull for the shore," he said. "And don't lose time," he added, as he saw
the white caps chasing madly toward them.
With much difficulty the clumsy batteau was swung around and the journey
shoreward began. But valuable time had been lost, and now the rain came
down in a deluge, shutting out the view on every side. The wind whistled
a gale and in the midst of the downpour came a vivid flash of lightning
and a crack of thunder that was deafening.
As much for his own safety as for the others, Dave bent to his oar with
a will, pulling with might and main. The sight of land was now shut out
and the task was therefore a blind one. On they went, the wind blowing
the waves into the batteau until the craft was speedily in danger of
becoming waterlogged.
"Bail her out!" roared the lieutenant, who was now as much alarmed as
anyone. "Bail her out, or we'll go to the bottom!"
[Illustration: "Bail her out," roared the lieutenant.]
"Bail her out yourself;" came a voice from the front of the craft. "None
of us can leave the oars. Pull away, boys,--it's our only chance!"
It was the man who had been a sailor who spoke, and all the other
soldiers obeyed him, leaving the lieutenant to take up an iron dipper
and begin the bailing as best he could.
A moment later came a wild cry from beyond the batteau. "Look out, you
are running into us! Back water!" The cry was followed by a thump and a
crash and half a dozen yells of pain, and then ensued a wild scramble
for safety, for two of the batteaux had come together with such force
that the bottom of each was broken away on one side, letting in the
lake water with a rush.
When the collision came Dave was thrown over backward, into the lap of
the soldier who had once been a sailor. Each clutched the other, and
both struggled to their feet wondering what would happen next. Then the
batteau began to settle and in a moment more Dave found himself
struggling in the waters of Lake Ontario.