And it was high time we had a breathing-spell. More than two hundred of General Herkimer's force lay dead among the trees, while even a larger number were so seriously wounded as to be unable to defend themselves, therefore it was impossible for us to act in concert with those who were making the sortie, and the commander issued orders to fall back.

The contents of the baggage-wagons were thrown out to make room for our wounded, and, while the uproar of the battle near the fort rang in our ears, we retreated from that valley of death.

Now those who had raised their voices against the general, accusing him of cowardice, did all within their power to make atonement by their care of him, and willing hands bore him on a litter that he might be spared the pain of transportation in the lumbering wagons.

It was a sorry train that left the ravine, not stopping to bury the dead because of the certainty that St. Leger's army would come to finish the bloody work as soon as the force from the fort had been driven back, and when it was in motion Sergeant Corney gripped me by the arm, as he said:

"Our road is not in that direction, lad. Yonder men may take the repose which they do not deserve after havin' brought about all this disaster; but we must face danger once more, an' perhaps for the last time."

"Meanin' that we're to go back in search of Jacob?" I asked, feeling for the moment as if it would be impossible for me to voluntarily turn my face in the direction of the enemy, now that I was no longer animated by the fever of battle.

"Ay, lad, our duty is now toward him, havin' done all we may under General Herkimer's command. As I figger it, we're free to do as we choose, for we can no longer aid those who are goin' back when, but for rankest mutiny, they might have entered the fort amid the cheers of victory. If Colonel Gansevoort is forced to surrender, it can all be set down to the credit of those who howled so loudly this mornin' that they could march straight through the enemy's lines."

"There is little hope we can find Jacob after so long a time has passed," I said, thinking of the perils that must necessarily await us while we tried to make our way through Thayendanega's camp.

"I grant you that, lad, an' yet we are bound to make the venture, or let it be said that we deserted a comrade when he needed us."

"We did that same when we pressed on toward the fort," I suggested, feebly.

"Ay, an' because we were in duty bound to carry the general's message. Now that work has been done, we are free."

I could not well say anything more against his plan without laying myself open to a charge of cowardice,—and at that moment I really was a coward,—therefore I stood ready to follow him.

There were provisions in plenty strewn on the ground, having been thrown out of the wagons to make room for the wounded, and from such store Sergeant Corney gathered up as much as would serve us during four and twenty hours.

This we stuffed into the pockets of our shirts; filled our powder-horns and bullet-pouches from the ammunition on the dead bodies, and then we were ready to leave that valley of death.

All this while it was possible to hear the din of that battle which was being fought near the fort; but as we advanced it became evident that the conflict was subsiding.

It would have been folly for the besieged to do other than beat a retreat, when it could be seen that General Herkimer's men were not in a position to take advantage of the sortie, and as soon as might be the brave fellows sought the shelter of the fort once more, leaving twenty of their comrades between the lines as victims of the mutiny among the Tryon County militiamen.

Much to my surprise, Sergeant Corney appeared sadly disappointed when the tumult of battle died away, and I asked if he believed that the people from the fort should have made an attempt to inflict more punishment upon the enemy.

"Not a bit of it, lad," the old soldier replied, promptly. "They have already done more than could have been expected; but yet I had a hope that the scrimmage would have lasted a bit longer."

"Why?" I asked, in surprise.

"Because we stand a better chance of circlin' around to where we left Jacob, while the villains have somethin' to keep 'em busy. Now there's no longer any need to fight, they'll likely keep sharper watch. Yet I count that Peter Sitz, if they haven't killed him already, has a bigger show of livin' a spell longer than he had last night."

"Why?"

"Because it stands to reason that Thayendanega's beauties have taken more than one prisoner, an' will have a better supply of livin' material for the stake than before. Peter may be lucky enough to keep his hair a spell longer; but there'll be many a poor wretch who'll taste of torture this night."

"An' perhaps Jacob may be one of them!" I cried, in an agony of apprehension, and from that moment it was not necessary the old soldier urge me forward, for I burned with the desire to do all I might to find our comrade before it should be too late.

When we left the ravine in search of the lad, it was necessary we advance over much the same course as when we carried General Herkimer's message, and it was slightly in our favor that we knew fairly well at how great a distance from the general encampment of the enemy we must keep in order to avoid running into the Indians.

Then, again, it seemed probable we had a better chance of making our way around this circle than when we first traversed it, because just at this time Thayendanega's villains had received such a drubbing at the hands of the patriots as would most likely prevent them from having any keen desire to come upon more white men.

It was also probable, as Sergeant Corney had suggested, that they had taken a number of prisoners during the fight with the garrison of the fort, as well as at the ravine, and the murderous scoundrels would be so occupied with making preparations for torturing such poor unfortunates as to neglect their duties as St. Leger's allies.

When I had thus viewed the situation, it did not appear such a difficult matter for us to gain a station to the southward of Thayendanega's encampment; but coming across Jacob was quite a different proposition. Finding a needle in a hay-stack seemed much more simple than running upon a lad who was doing his best to remain hidden from view, unless, perchance, he had already been captured.

"It ain't any easy job, figger as you will," Sergeant Corney said, when I had put the situation before him from my point of view. "But I'm reckonin' that we're goin' to come somewhere near succeedin'. We can count on doin' pretty much as we please from now till to-morrow mornin', providin' we don't stick our noses into the camps of the Britishers or Tories, for you can set it down as a fact that every red-faced wretch will have considerable on hand this night. The only trouble will be that we may have to keep within cover while they're torturin' some poor fellow under our very shadows. You'll have to keep in mind that Peter an' Jacob Sitz are the only white men we're after, an' shut both eyes an' ears to every one else."

"Suppose Jacob has been made prisoner? Would you risk your life to save him?"

The old man made no reply until I had repeated the question, and then he said, slowly:

"If there was any show of bein' able to work the trick, you could count on me to the end; but if he has fallen into their clutches, unless some wonderfully big turn of affairs comes in our path, we would be only throwin' away the lives of both without chance of helpin' him. I've heard long-tongued boasters tellin' how they'd rescued a prisoner from an Indian camp, but I never believed anything of the kind, for it ain't to be done more'n one time in a thousand, an' then you'd have to find a lot of red-skinned idjuts to work on."

Sergeant Corney had used a good many words in replying to my short question, and I believed he had done so to the end that I might not fully understand what he meant.

As I made it out, however, he would turn his back on poor Jacob in case the savages had him in their power, and I asked myself again and again what course I should pursue in such a situation.

We made a long detour around the battle-field in order to avoid as much as possible the danger of stumbling upon the enemy's scouts, and, when the afternoon was half-spent, had come, as nearly as we could guess, to a point due south from Thayendanega's camp.

"How far do you reckon we are from St. Leger's force?" I asked, when Sergeant Corney threw himself on the ground within shelter of a clump of bushes, as if for a long halt.

"Three miles or more from their lines of sentinels, if they've got any out, an' we're none too far away, 'cordin' to my figgerin'. After sunset we'll work in toward 'em; but there needn't be any hurry, for I'm reckonin' that we don't want to do much work till after midnight. If Jacob is still free to do as he pleases, there's little danger he'll come to grief 'twixt now an' mornin'."

"Unless he should see them torturin' his father, an' then it's certain he'd make a fight, no matter how great the odds against him," I suggested, thinking of what I would be tempted to do under similar circumstances.

"In that case we're better off where we are. I don't allow that a lad has any right to deliberately throw away his own life, an' that's what Jacob would be doin' if he showed himself when the villains had his father at the stake."

"He couldn't stand still an' see it done."

"True for you; but, no matter how he might feel, it's his duty to think of his mother, an' surely she would say that it was better one came home, than for both to be killed."

"It's a mighty hard outlook," I said, with a sigh.

"You're right, an' at the same time you ain't makin' matters any better by chewin' it over. A man don't fit himself for a fight by figgerin' out all the possible horrors."

"An' you think we'll have a fight before this venture is ended?"

"I'll leave it to you if somethin' of the kind don't seem reasonable," the old man replied, grimly, and then he set about making a dinner from the supply of provisions we had found in the ravine.

After that I made no more effort to keep up a conversation, and tried very hard to force from my mind any speculations regarding Jacob and his father, but with poor success. It seemed as if every subject had some bearing upon the matter, and so disagreeable was the constant harking back to what was beyond my control, that I really felt glad when the shadows of night began to lengthen, for almost any kind of action was better than remaining there in hiding, eating one's heart out.

Sergeant Corney gave no sign that he realized night had come, until I called his attention to the fact, and then he said:

"Ay, lad, the time is drawin' nigh; but I reckon that we'll be wise to hold on as we are a spell longer."

Then he lay back as if bent on going to sleep, and I held my peace, determined to say no more even though he remained there until sunrise.

It must have been ten o'clock before he showed signs of life, and then he rose to his feet as he said:

"I allow that we'd better be movin', though there ain't any great need of hurryin'. We'll be able to cover three miles in an hour, an' even then be a bit early for good work."

"How will you set about findin' Jacob?" I asked, giving words to the question which had been in my mind ever since we came to a halt.

"Our only chance is to keep movin' nearabout Thayendanega's camp, an' trustin' to accident for comin' across him."

Sergeant Corney strapped his rifle on his back, as if believing he would have no use for it; but he made certain his knife was loose in its sheath, and I understood that if we had trouble it would be at close quarters.

At last we were ready, and this time the sergeant did not propose that I lead the way.

He strode off in advance, with never a glance backward to see if I was following, and in silence we went on toward the danger-point at a swift pace, until the old man halted to say, in a whisper:

"There should be sentinels nearabout, unless Thayendanega believes he has killed all the decent men in the Mohawk Valley; so have your wits about you, lad, for a mistake now will cost us dearly."



Chapter IX.

The Indian Camp



I claim that it is nothing to my discredit when I say that there was a great fear in my heart while we advanced at a snail's pace, after having come to that point where we might reasonably expect the Indian sentinels would be posted.

In the darkness, moving amidst the dense foliage, where it required the utmost care to avoid betraying one's whereabouts, advancing blindly into you knew not what peril, was well calculated to make even the most courageous feel a bit timid.

At any moment we might literally stumble over a party of warriors in such numbers that there could be no possibility of making our escape, and in case we should come face to face with no more than four or five of the enemy, it would be well-nigh useless to show fight, because of the hundreds everywhere around who could be summoned to the assistance of their comrades.

Before we had advanced an hundred paces, I became convinced that it was impossible we should be able to reconnoitre the camp and return to the point from where we had set out without being killed, or, what was worse, taken prisoner, and yet, had I known for a certainty that such fate awaited us, I would not have let Sergeant Corney know of my unwillingness to follow him.

Sorely did I blame Jacob for having forced us into such a position of danger, when there was little hope any good could be effected by our coming, and more than once I promised myself that, if by any fortunate chance I succeeded in arriving at Cherry Valley again, no one could tempt me to leave it.

It was useless, however, to mourn over what could not be cured. We had come there voluntarily, and, unless both of us were willing to write ourselves down as cowards, must perform the task.

It was well-nigh midnight before we heard anything of the enemy, and then a faint hum of voices in the distance told that Sergeant Corney had led the way truly and wonderfully well. Never again would I say that he was not thoroughly versed in woodcraft.

The old soldier gripped my arm to make certain I understood that we had come near to the enemy, and then inch by inch we moved forward, halting a few moments every time we incautiously caused a rustling among the foliage.



How long that slow progress continued I cannot rightly say; but it seemed to me as if the morning was near at hand when we were arrived, having miraculously passed such stragglers, scouts, or sentinels as might have been in the vicinity, at a point where we could have a view of this particular portion of the encampment.

Three or four hundred Indians were dancing wildly around a huge fire, while half as many more were feasting, preparing their own food by cutting it from the carcasses of two oxen which lay near at hand, and broiling it on the live coals.

I knew sufficient of savage customs to understand that, if there had been any torturing of prisoners during the evening, such fiendish work was at an end, and that which we were witnessing was but the ending of the barbarous sport.

Now it was that I mentally thanked Sergeant Corney for having delayed so long before starting, for it would have been agony indeed had we been forced to witness the horrible spectacle of a white man suffering under the knives and by the fire of these wolves in human form.

We remained there stretched out at full length on the ground, with no possibility of gaining information which might be of service to us in the future, ten minutes or more, and then, suddenly, I was forced to exert all my will-power to prevent a scream of fear from escaping my lips, for what was unmistakably a human foot had been planted directly upon my leg.

Like a flash, after I succeeded in restraining myself from giving an alarm, came the knowledge, I know not how, that he who had stumbled upon me was no less frightened than I, and, clutching Sergeant Corney's leg nervously to attract his attention, I sprang upon the newcomer, believing him to be some Indian straggler whom it was absolutely necessary we should silence in order to save our own lives.

So quick had been my motions that the fellow had no opportunity to get away, save at the cost of betraying himself to us, and by what seemed to be the most fortunate chance, I succeeded, when leaping blindly forward, in gripping him by the throat.

We went down together, I on top striving most earnestly to strangle him to death, and he fighting quite as strenuously to throw off my hold.

Before one could have counted ten I began to realize that this stranger who was at my mercy appeared quite as much afraid of making a noise as did I, and involuntarily my grasp was loosened ever so slightly, for I understood that had it been an Indian he would have done his best to attract the attention of those near the camp-fire.

With this thought came the knowledge that I had beneath me one clad much like myself, and not the half-naked body of such villains as marched in Thayendanega's train.

Then it was, and just as Sergeant Corney came up to us, that I loosened my grasp entirely in order to pass my hands over the stranger's face and head.

There were no feathers, no daubs of paint, which should have been apparent to the touch, and I whispered, with my mouth close to the fellow's ear, while yet pinioning his arms in such a fashion that he could not well move:

"Who are you?"

"A white man," came the reply, the words sounding thick and muffled because of the squeezing which the speaker's throat had received.

Then like a flash came to me that which I should have suspected before!

It was my comrade for whom we had been searching that I was grappling with, and, just as the old soldier knelt by my side knife in hand to put an end to the struggle, I whispered, for the darkness was so intense that I could not even see the face which was but a few inches from my own:

"Are you Jacob Sitz?"

"Ay; an' you?"

"It is the sergeant an' Noel, lad, an' right glad am I that we came to know each other just as we did, else would your blood have been on our hands."

Jacob apparently gave no heed to the close shave which had been his, so great was the delight at knowing we were with him once more, and we three sat with our heads close together in order that we might question and be questioned without fear of betraying our whereabouts.

"Where have you been all this time?" I asked, and Jacob replied, softly:

"Hangin' around this camp. Twice have I come near bein' discovered, an' of a verity I believed, when you clutched my throat, that this was the last—the endin' of it all."

"Have you seen your father?" Sergeant Corney asked, and the lad replied, triumphantly:

"Ay, an' had speech with him."

"Where is he?"

"In a lodge near Thayendanega's, an' until to-night there has been no great danger he would be tortured, as I believe because of the sachem's promise that he shall not be killed."

"How did you get to speak with him?" I asked, in surprise.

"Within three hours after leavin' you I was hereabout, an' saw him. That night I crept through the village undiscovered, for even the dogs failed to bark at me, I know not why, an' there talked with my father as I now talk with you."

"If you got away, why could not he have done the same?" I asked, surprised that Jacob should have succeeded in making his way among the lodges.

"I urged him to make the attempt, but he claimed that there was no hope we two could leave the village undiscovered. First he was bound hand an' foot, an', although I might have cut my way through the lodge to release him from the fetters, he forbade it because of the risk, sayin' I must not endanger my life on account of mother, an' insistin' that at some future time escape would be more easy than then. He ordered me to go home at once, providin' I could not find you, an' I would have done so this night but for the battle of the mornin'."

"Why did that stop you?" I asked. "Surely you had no part in it?"

"No; but the savages were so infuriated that I feared even Thayendanega himself would be unable to prevent the wretches from leadin' my father to the stake, therefore I remained on watch. Three prisoners have been murdered in a most barbarous manner, but yet he was left unmolested in the lodge. Have you somethin' to eat?"

I took from my pocket all the food remaining, and the lad devoured it like one famished, whereupon Sergeant Corney asked:

"Have you had nothin' to eat since we left you?"

"I gathered some roots an' berries, but not enough to satisfy my hunger."

"An' yet you would have stayed here longer in danger of starvation?"

"Ay, until havin' satisfied myself that father was as safe as one can be who remains in the power of such as are encamped here. Did you come for no other purpose than to find me?"

"Nothin' more," I said, not minded to let him know that if he could show any reasonable chance of rescuing Peter Sitz it was our purpose to give him aid.

"Where have you been all this while?"

"That is too long a story to tell now," Sergeant Corney interrupted. "If the savages are not likely to do more than dance from now till mornin', we may as well find a shelter in which to spend the morrow, an' then I'm of the opinion that the three of us had best make tracks for Cherry Valley, as Jacob's father advised."

As he ceased speaking, Sergeant Corney would have led us out of the thicket; but Jacob whispered, softly:

"Not half a mile away is a small cave—no more than a hole in the hillside, an' there we may remain hidden durin' the hours of daylight."

"Lead the way, an' we will follow," the old man said, in a tone of command, and straightway Jacob did as he was thus ordered.

Knowing, as the lad did, very nearly where the Indians might be found, we advanced with reasonable rapidity, until having come to the place of which he had spoken.

It was indeed no more than a hole in the ground, and so small that when we three were lying at full length inside with our heads toward the opening, it would have been a very small cat who could have found a chance to lie down comfortably with us.

Some bushes and a tangle of creeping vines hid the entrance most admirably; but, after we were once inside, I questioned to myself whether we had not been reckless in coming directly to this place without taking precautions to cover our footprints, for, should a keen-eyed savage chance to see our trail, there was good reason for believing he would follow it up.

However, we were there, and the mischief might not be undone readily, therefore I held my peace, saying mentally that if Sergeant Corney and Jacob were satisfied with having taken no especial precautions, then of a verity ought I, the least experienced in woodcraft of the three, be content.

When Jacob had eaten all the small store of provisions which I gave him without having apparently satisfied his hunger, he insisted on our telling him what we had done since he left us, and I related the story much as it is set down here, spending a full hour in the recital.

When I had finally come to an end, the old soldier proposed that as soon as another day had passed we should turn our faces toward Cherry Valley, for, after receiving the commands of his father, Jacob could do no less than go home.

I understood full well that the lad would have encountered any danger or suffered every privation rather than leave this place where his father was held prisoner, even though there was little or no hope he could aid him; but yet he did not argue against the plan, and thus was it settled that when night came again we would start on our journey.

"Save for the fact that father himself insisted I should go, no one could force me to leave here," Jacob said, after a long pause, and Sergeant Corney added, soothingly, saying that which I question if he himself really believed:

"You can do no better, lad. If Thayendanega has given his word to save your father's life, so will it be, despite all the howlin' wolves in his followin'. But if you should stay here and be discovered tryin' to rescue him, there is little doubt that it would result in the death of both."

With that we fell silent once more, and I was right glad of an opportunity to sleep.

Jacob insisted that the old soldier and I give ourselves up to slumber while he kept guard, for he did not need the rest as much as we.

Therefore it was that I slept soundly and sweetly until a full hour past noon, and when I awakened the sergeant was peering out through the leafy curtain in front of the cave, while Jacob was enjoying his turn at sleep.

"Can you see the camp?" I asked, wriggling forward until my head was close beside his, and then it was not necessary he should make reply, for we had from this place of vantage a fairly good view of the red-skinned portion of St. Leger's army.

It is true that the trees and bushes screened certain portions of the encampment, but the greater number of the lodges were in a clearing, and Sergeant Corney pointed out to me that shelter which Jacob had told him was the one where his father was confined.

The Indians were lounging about lazily, some stretched at full length sleeping, others gathered in little companies, squatting on the ground as they smoked and talked, and not a few moving slowly to and fro; but never one who appeared to have any business on hand.

There were both women and children in the camp, which struck me as being odd, for when savages set off on the war-path it is not customary for them to take their families; but I explained this peculiar state of affairs to myself by the supposition that the women had been brought that they might do the work, which is deemed unfitting a warrior.

"Jacob counts on payin' one more visit to his father before we start," Sergeant Corney said to me, when, having wearied with gazing at the scene, I turned away.

"To what end?" I asked, with somewhat of irritation, for it did not seem to me wise the lad should run the chances of capture when nothing was to be effected by taking such risks.

"Only that he may speak with him."

"But it is folly!" I said, sharply. "It has been possible for him to go into the village twice; but of a certainty it cannot be done many times in safety."

"You are right, lad, an' yet how can we refuse him? Fancy if your father was in the same tight place, an' ask yourself if, when about to turn your back on him, perhaps forever, the desire to hold converse with him once more would not be stronger than the fear of disaster?"

To this I could make no reply, as a matter of course; yet I was still firmly convinced that it was a foolhardy venture. If there had been a possibility of his doing the prisoner any good, then would I have said that we would stay on until further efforts were of no avail. As it was, however, Peter Sitz himself had said it was wiser for Jacob to go, and surely he, the most interested and the most experienced in such matters, should be the judge.

I held my tongue, even though rebelling against the scheme, because of knowing that the lad was prompted only by love, and yet my heart grew heavy within me, until I had become convinced that something of evil would follow.

So disturbed was I in mind that it was impossible to close my eyes in slumber again, even though knowing that my best preparation for the journey would consist in getting all the rest I could.

Sergeant Corney had fallen into what seemed to me a moody silence; I looked out now and then at the painted forms of those human wolves, who would lay waste our happy valley, and wished most fervently that I had the power to destroy them all with one blow.

When one has seen, as have I, women and children butchered in the most fiendish manner which a wicked man can devise, he cannot consider bloodthirsty the person who would, if he could, wipe out the entire race. It would only be an act of mercy to the colonists, who lived in momentary fear, not so much of sudden death as of barbarous torture.

Jacob slept until nightfall, and when he awakened the first thought in his mind was to set off on his dangerous and useless venture; but Sergeant Corney advised that he wait until the night was well advanced, and to this I agreed, although chafing against the expenditure of time, because he would but have ensured his own capture had he ventured among the wretches while the entire encampment was astir.

We did not have supper for the very good reason that we had no provisions, but buckled our belts a bit tighter, because already was hunger beginning to assail us.

As we waited for the lengthening of the night, Jacob went over in detail his experiences while Sergeant Corney and I were with General Herkimer, and this served to make the time seemingly pass more swiftly.

The savages evidently had no fiendish sport on their programme for this evening, most likely because of having exhausted themselves the night previous, and at a reasonably early hour this portion of St. Leger's army was in a comparative state of quietude.

"Now, if ever, is the time when you can go, lad; but remember that I advise against it, as would your father," Sergeant Corney said, gravely. "I am not minded to argue you out of what your heart is set upon, but ask that you give the matter due weight before goin' so far that retreat will be impossible."

"I must speak with my father once more," Jacob said, in a tone so piteous that I did not have the heart to make any protest.

"Then God go with you," the old soldier said, solemnly, and in a twinkling my comrade had slipped out of the cave, being lost to our view almost immediately amid the foliage near at hand.

When we were thus left alone a silence fell upon us. Because of the forebodings in my heart I was not inclined for conversation, and I dare venture to say the sergeant held his peace for much the same reason.

During half an hour, perhaps, we listened intently, fearing each instant lest we hear those sounds which would betoken the capture of Jacob, and then did it seem probable he had succeeded in the venture, at least so far as gaining the village was concerned.

Regarding him I had no further anxiety, and, without being aware that slumber was weighing heavily upon my eyelids, I fell asleep.

I could not have been unconscious many moments, for it seemed as if my eyes had but just closed, when I was aroused by the pressure of Sergeant Corney's hand upon my arm, and as I would have sprung up he forced me down, whispering:

"The savages are comin' this way, an' it looks to me mightily as if they counted on stoppin' hereabouts."

Involuntarily I parted the vines at the mouth of the cave, for I had been lying with my head close upon them, and gazed down the side of the small hill, where it was possible to see, even despite the gloom of the night, no less than ten forms coming up the incline as if following a trail.

"They have taken Jacob, an' he has told them where we are," I said on the impulse of the moment, not meaning to cast reproach upon the lad, but knowing what fiendish means those wretches employed in order to extort information.

"We would have heard the noise of a squabble if he had been captured, an' I have stood watch ever since he left," Sergeant Corney said, decidedly.

"Can they be followin' our trail in the darkness?" I cried, and my companion replied, grimly, drawing his rifle nearer to him:

"It makes no difference to us, lad, why or how they are comin'. The question is whether, in case they find this place, we shall fight to the death or submit without resistance."

It was a question I could not answer. I knew full well that we could not hope to hold the cave any considerable length of time, and that if, during the fight, we killed any of the villains, our end at the stake would come before morning, even though Thayendanega himself should do all he might to prevent it.

I remained silent, the Indians approaching nearer and nearer each instant, and, when they were half-way up the hill, within perhaps thirty yards of the mouth of the cave, the sergeant said, as if speaking to himself:

"All we can hope for, if we should put up a fight, is to die with weapons in our hands, for death in some form would come to us within a few hours. While there's life there's a chance."

"Meanin' that we had best give ourselves up?" I asked, in alarm.

"Ay, lad, that is my idee, unless you can show me something better."

There was little time for reflection. Already were the Indians so near that I fancied I could hear them breathing. I knew that the cave had no other outlet than this one at which we crouched, but also that two determined men might hold half an hundred in check as long as their ammunition lasted—but then?

The foremost of the red-skinned snakes were within a dozen feet of us when I whispered, with tremulous voice:

"It shall be as you say, sergeant!"



Chapter X.

Prisoners



I believe if at that critical moment I had decided it was best we hold the cave against the foe, regardless of the ultimate consequence, Sergeant Corney would have done my bidding. But immediately I declared myself willing to act as he thought best, the old man threw down his rifle, and, with upraised hands, stepped out from amid the screen of foliage into the very arms of those who were coming up the slope.

Just for one instant there was in my mind the thought that I might slink back into the further end of the cave, and possibly escape detection, unless it so chanced that the savages knew exactly how many were hidden there. But, fortunately, before there was time to do anything so cowardly, a realization of what it meant to thus hang back when I had spoken the words which sent my comrade forward came upon me with full force, and I followed him so closely that he could not have had any suspicion of that which, for the merest fraction of time, found lodgment in my heart.

It was too dark for me to see the look of triumph on the faces of our captors; but I knew they wore such expressions, because of the cries of satisfaction and shouts of delight which burst from them when we, unarmed, stood in their midst.

I was satisfied in my own mind that they had seen the trail, even in the darkness, which had been made when we three entered the cave, or by Jacob as he went out, and had followed it rather from curiosity than the belief that white men were in the vicinity.

This idea of mine, although there was in it nothing favoring to us, gave me no little relief of mind, for it led to the conclusion that Jacob was yet free.

After the first outburst of rejoicing at having taken two captives at a time and in a place where they least expected to find them, the Indians set about securing us in the most businesslike manner.

Some one of the party brought strips of rawhide, by which our hands and arms were bound tightly to our sides, and with so large a surrounding that it would have been impossible to escape even had we been unfettered, they led us down to the village, where we were greeted by the squaws and the children with fiendish cries of delight.

I knew enough of savage customs to understand that we would be forced to submit to a certain amount of ill-treatment from the female portion of the band before the warriors decided upon our fate, and nerved myself to bear it as best I might, realizing that any show of weakness at such a time would work to our disadvantage later.

We were tied to a tree, Sergeant Corney on one side and I on the other, within twenty paces of Thayendanega's lodge, where the light of the camp-fire shone full upon us.

The braves of the tribe seated themselves in a circle, as if holding a council to determine our fate, while the squaws and the young boys amused themselves by holding stout sticks in the fire until one end was a living coal, and then placing these against our hands, until the pain was so great that only by summoning all my strength of will could I prevent myself from screaming.

Even at such a time, when our lives were literally hanging in the balance, I found somewhat of comfort in the thought that Sergeant Corney was with me, and not very far away Peter Sitz could probably see us.

It may be difficult to understand why knowledge of that kind should serve to cheer one at such a horrible moment, and I myself cannot explain it. It simply remains a fact that I seemed in less danger of being murdered than if I had been the only prisoner in the encampment.

"It's plain that Jacob was not captured, else we would see him near by," Sergeant Corney said to me, and I tried my best to enter into conversation with him, to the end that I might in some slight degree take my mind from the torture which, perhaps, was but a foretaste of what I would be forced to suffer.

"He will be overcome with grief on knowin' that by lingerin' to speak once more with his father we were captured, an' I fear the lad may be led to some foolishly reckless move," I said, at the same moment trying to stifle a groan.

"If he will but stop a moment to rigger the matter out, he'll understand that only by keepin' clear of this camp can he hope to help us," the old man replied, and I asked, sharply:

"Do you really believe, sergeant, that any one can aid us now?"

"Tut, tut, lad; do not give yourself up for dead yet awhile. So long as there's life there's a chance. Peter Sitz has been in the clutches of these villains many a day, an' yet, 'cordin' to Jacob's story, he's as sound an' hearty as when he left Cherry Valley."

"Ay; but his life has been saved because Joseph Brant knew him before the dream of bein' made great sachem of the Six Nations turned that redskin into the most bloodthirsty of savages."

"Yet had you been in Peter Sitz's place when he was first taken prisoner, your despair would likely have been as great as it seems to be now."

I knew that Sergeant Corney would say many things which he himself did not believe, if he thought thereby he might strengthen my courage for the terrible ordeal which was probably before us; therefore his words of cheer had less weight than might otherwise have been the case.

Not until it seemed to me every square inch of my hands had been burned to a blister, and there was a livid, red mark across my forehead, where an old hag had scorched me with a burning brand, did the squaws tire of their cruel sport, and then we were left comparatively alone, with sufficient of pain to keep us so keenly alive to the situation that weariness of body did not make itself apparent.

"We came to aid Jacob, and now ourselves are standing in need of assistance," I said, bitterly, for this seemed like the irony of fate.

"True for you, lad, an' yet we won't look at it in that light. But for marvellous good luck we would have been made prisoners before this, therefore let us reckon it simply as the fortune of war, and not count Jacob the cause of our trouble."

I would have replied yet more bitterly than before, but for the fact that at the moment it so chanced my eyes were fixed upon the lodge wherein our comrade had said his father was held prisoner, and I saw the flap pulled cautiously aside.

Then the face of a man could be seen close to the ground, and I said, eagerly, to my companion, who, perforce, had his head turned in the opposite direction:

"Peter Sitz is lookin' at us."

"I would he had remained ignorant of our whereabouts," Sergeant Corney muttered, and I asked, in surprise:

"Why?"

"Because, in addition to his own sufferin', he must believe that we've been brought to this plight through tryin' to aid him, an' it only serves to make his troubles greater, without lessenin' ours."

Sergeant Corney was rapidly becoming a hero in my eyes, for surely it is a brave man who, when he stands in most imminent danger, can think rather of others than himself.

We spoke but little from this time on, the sergeant and I. The rawhides, which were tied so tightly as to nearly stop the circulation of blood, were eating their way into our flesh, and the pain thus caused became greater than the smarting of the blisters raised by the burning brands.

We knew that those who formed that circle of painted forms but a short distance away were deciding whether we be put to torture immediately, or reserved for some especial time of rejoicing, and there grew upon me such a fascination as is sometimes brought about by keenest peril, until I almost forgot the desperate situation as I watched those who held our fate in their hands, trying to discover from the expression on their hideous faces what might be the result of the conference.

As the moments passed I sank into a sort of apathy, until it was as if some other lad's fate trembled in the balance, and I myself was looking down upon the encampment from a secure place of refuge.

The fires burned dim. One by one Thayendanega's heathens stalked away to his lodge, until the council was finally brought to a close; a deep silence came over the encampment, as if all, save that white face which I could see just beneath the flap of the lodge in front of me, and we two who were bound to the tree, were wrapped in slumber.

"We can count on remainin' alive at least until to-morrow night," Sergeant Corney said, as if imparting some cheering information, "for these wretches do not torture a prisoner in the daytime."

"Unless some change is made speedily I will not be in their power, for of a verity I am dyin', Sergeant Corney," I said, and he, thinking, of course, to cheer me, laughed almost merrily as he replied:

"Nonsense, lad, you are a long ways from bein' dead. I allow your body is numbed, but that's all. If these strips of rawhide were slackened a bit, you'd soon find yourself feelin' as well as ever, save, perchance, for the blisters upon your hands."

"If we could stretch them a bit," I cried, trying vainly to change the position of my arms.

"Ay, but you can't, lad, an' by makin' the effort you'll only cause them to bind the tighter."

How that long night passed I cannot well say. The agony of mind, together with the bodily pain, benumbed all my senses until I was like one in a trance, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, save the gleam of that white face beneath the flap of the lodge where Peter Sitz kept mournful watch upon us.

The morning came, and like one under the influence of some hideous nightmare I became aware that the savages were loosening the rawhide thongs. Faintly, with but little curiosity regarding the matter, I wondered if we were to be killed at once, regardless of the usual customs of such wretches.

When the bonds had been removed the sergeant and I sank down upon the ground helpless, unable to move hand or foot, and in that condition we were dragged into the lodge where was Jacob's father.

There we were bound quite as securely and cruelly as before, the thongs cutting fresh welts into our wrists and ankles; but the relief caused by the change of position was so great that it seemed as if I had every reason for thankfulness.

Here, when our captors had made certain we could not by any possibility escape, we were left alone with Peter Sitz, and his first question was as to why we had ventured within reach of the enemy.

Sergeant Corney, minded to save our neighbor from the self-reproach which might be his if he knew we were in such plight through desire to aid his son or himself, replied that we had been sent into the vicinity by General Herkimer, and then explained how we came across Jacob, as well was the manner in which we had been taken prisoners.

"Will they torture us to death?" I asked, giving words to that question which had been uppermost in my mind from the moment we saw the painted sneaks approaching the cave, and Master Sitz replied, with a painful effort at cheerfulness:

"It's for you to believe that they won't, lad. Remember how long I've been in their power, an' yet have come to no real harm, so far as life is concerned, although this bein' trussed up like a chicken ready for the roastin' is by no means pleasant or comfortable."

Then it was that Sergeant Corney, minded as I now believe only to change the subject of conversation, asked Master Sitz why it was we had failed to see him during the march from Cherry Valley to the Indian village.

The explanation was simple, and at the same time served to show, to my mind at least, that Jacob's father would not be led to the stake.

It seems that when he was first captured, at the time Lieutenant Wormwood was killed, he came face to face with Thayendanega, and that savage recognized him at once, speaking in such a friendly tone that Master Sitz immediately appealed for mercy.

The sachem declared that if he remained with the war party it might be impossible to save him, and even went so far in his friendliness as to explain that it were better he be sent ahead to the Indian village, for, having once arrived at that place, there was little fear of the warriors demanding his death until on some especial occasion.

Therefore, within half an hour after having been made prisoner, Master Sitz was being hurried forward to Oghkwaga, under charge of two savages, and was well on his journey before we started.

When, immediately after the interview with General Herkimer, Thayendanega hurried his tribe on to join St. Leger's forces, he so far submitted to the demands of his followers as to allow them to take Peter Sitz on the war-path with them.

"More than once have the red devils insisted on torturin' me; but each time Joseph Brant has prevented them, although I question if he could have done so but for the unfortunate men who were captured in the battle with General Herkimer's troops."

Peter Sitz ceased speaking very suddenly, and I had not the courage to ask him how those prisoners suffered; I could imagine that they came to a most horrible end, and knew that my worst picturing of it would fall far short of the reality.

Then Jacob's father spoke of the possibility that we might escape with our lives; but it was evident he did so with an effort, and I had it in mind that he only tried to cheer me, while he was convinced that his end, as well as ours, would come at the stake before the siege was finished.

And now I do not propose to make any effort at giving in detail all that occurred while we lay cruelly bound, during a greater portion of the time, in this lodge, situate almost in the centre of the Indian camp.

For eight days we were kept thus close prisoners, without a ray of hope, and then came the unexpected.

At least once in every twenty-four hours, and sometimes twice, the bonds were taken from our arms that we might feed ourselves on such food as savages cast to their dogs. Perhaps thrice in that long term of captivity were we permitted to walk around the lodge, and, save for that short respite from our suffering, I believe of a verity we would have lost the use of our limbs.

Half-starved, suffering oftentimes the keenest pangs of thirst, and believing that all this torture was the preface to something yet worse, it can well be imagined that we were indeed a sorry party. Even Sergeant Corney ceased trying to animate us, for despair had seized upon him.

When we did hold converse among ourselves, it was usually regarding Jacob. We had neither seen nor heard anything of the lad since the hour he left us in the cave to get speech with his father, and it was to me wondrous strange that he who had been so eager when there was but one prisoner, had apparently lost all desire to render aid after two more had been captured.

During the first two or three days we believed he was skulking around somewhere near at hand, with the vain hope that he might be able to effect our escape; but as the time passed on it became certain that such could not be the case, otherwise he would have succeeded in making his way to the lodge, as he had done when his father was the only occupant of it.

So far as I could make out, there was no more vigilant guard kept after we were taken than before, and the lad must have succeeded in getting speech with us had he made the effort during those times when the savages gave themselves up to dancing or feasting, as occurred at least once in every eight and forty hours.

Then we decided he had gone in search of General Herkimer's men, thinking to enlist a sufficient number of them in our behalf; but if such had been the case we should have heard something from him, at least when eight days were passed, and after that time we made no mention of the lad, believing he had been discovered near the encampment and killed outright.

And now it must be understood that during all this time St. Leger's army was laying close siege to Fort Schuyler, and, strange as it may seem, we, closely confined in that lodge of skins, had a fairly good idea of what was happening.

More than one of the Indians spoke English, and, not unfrequently, the Tories or British officers came to visit Thayendanega in his own lodge, when we could overhear a goodly portion of the conversation.

Thus it was we knew that Colonel Billinger and Major Frey, officers from General Herkimer's force, who had been taken prisoners by some of the British during the battle of Oriskany, had been compelled, under threats of torture, to write a letter to Colonel Gansevoort, misrepresenting St. Leger's strength, and advising him to surrender.

We also knew that this letter, written under pressure, was delivered by Colonel Butler, who went to the fort with a flag of truce, and, when the commandant flatly refused to surrender, the Tory officer threatened that, in case it became necessary to take the fortification by force, the women and children inside would be delivered over to the mercies of the Indians.

Fortunately Colonel Gansevoort was too brave a man to be frightened by such threats, and when Colonel Butler told him that Burgoyne had already taken possession of Albany, he became thoroughly well convinced that the officer was deliberately lying to him.

At all events, he refused to surrender, and two days later General St. Leger sent a written demand, the reply to which contained the emphatic statement that it was Colonel Gansevoort's determined resolution with the force under his command, to defend the fort to the last extremity.

We learned also, through different friendly visits which were paid to Joseph Brant by the officers, that General St. Leger was continuing the siege in true military fashion, advancing by parallels slowly but surely, and it was the belief of all our enemies that they must of a necessity soon succeed in their purpose.

The information which we thus obtained did not tend to make us feel any more comfortable in mind. In case the fort was taken, the utmost we could hope for would be to escape death, but at the cost of remaining, no one knows how long, as slaves to the savages.

If, however, the garrison made such a resistance as we believed they would, and then were finally overcome, the Indians being allowed to wreak vengeance until their thirst for blood was satisfied, then was it probable we would go to the stake with a goodly company and little chance of escape.

However, I am not minded to set down here all our fears. One can readily understand how many and great they were, and how we twisted and turned each additional bit of information which we gathered by eavesdropping, until it seemed as if matters which had no bearing whatsoever on our condition were a direct and deadly menace.

I have said that we were eight days closely confined in this one lodge, and then came the night when we were lifted from out the mire of despair into which we had fallen, so suddenly as to make us literally dizzy with hope.

During the afternoon of this day Thayendanega's warriors had spent their time laying on an unusual quantity of paint, and arraying themselves to the last feather of their finery, therefore we knew that something of considerable importance was on foot. When they marched out of the encampment, the medicine-men leading the way, with the beating of drums and blowing of horns, we believed a council of war was to be held, in which these wretches, most likely to tickle their vanity, had been invited to take part.

When, just as they were setting out, the rain began to fall heavily and the wind to blow in a manner which betokened a summer storm, I found the wildest delight in picturing to myself the discomforts which would be theirs unless St. Leger had tents sufficient to provide them all with shelter.

At another time I would have given little heed to such a trifling matter, but now it seemed of so much importance that I spoke to my companions in misery regarding it, picturing the bedraggled condition of the fine feathers after they had become thoroughly saturated, and was talking with more of animation than at any time since having been made prisoner, when suddenly a sound, as of some one scratching on the skin of the lodge, caused my heart to bound until it seemed positive its furious beatings could be heard a long distance off.

"It is Jacob!" I cried, speaking incautiously loud.

A warning hiss from Peter Sitz brought me to my senses, and in a fever of suspense I listened for the sound which had first attracted my attention, to be repeated.

The silence remained unbroken, save for the lightest rustling of the skins, until, in the dim light to which my eyes had been so long accustomed, I saw Jacob's head and shoulders inside the lodge.

It was only with difficulty I restrained myself from crying aloud with joy, for now it seemed, even surrounded by enemies though we were, that because my comrade had come were we rescued.



Chapter XI.

The Escape



So great was my delight at seeing Jacob slowly working his way into the lodge, that there was no room in my heart for surprise. I entirely forgot to be astonished because after so long a time he had returned, or to question why it was he dared venture within the encampment.

Only the fact that he was there presented itself to my mind, and I gave no heed to anything else.

I struggled violently to reach the dear lad, intent on throwing my arms around him in order to show how deeply I felt this devotion of his which had brought him back, perhaps, to a terrible death; but Master Sitz and Sergeant Corney remained silent and motionless until Jacob was well within the lodge. Then his father said, conveying reproach even in the whisper:

"Why have you come here after once having gotten well away from the place? You can do us no good, an' only hope to add to the savages' list of victims."

"They have not got me yet," Jacob replied, cheerily, and I understood that his courage had been greatly stiffened since the night he crept out from the cave. "There's a big powwow goin' on over at St. Leger's camp, an' no one is on guard hereabouts. This is the time when, if ever, you can escape."

It seemed to me as if the lad talked the veriest nonsense in speaking of our escape by simply crawling away from the lodge, situate as it was in the very midst of the encampment; but Jacob had the whole plan in his mind, and was not to be disheartened, however much cold water we might throw upon it.

It may seem strange, but such is the fact, that even when thus surrounded by danger my curiosity was so great that I asked him, even before he had time to explain how he hoped to effect our rescue, where he had been so long.

"At Cherry Valley," he replied, as if a journey there and back was the most simple thing imaginable.

"Meanin' that you have been home since the night you left the cave?" I repeated, in astonishment.

"Ay, no less than that."

"But why did you do it?" I cried, speaking so loudly as to call forth a warning groan from Sergeant Corney.

"Because I believed it might be possible for you to escape, providin' we had help enough near at hand," he replied, and I said, even more mystified than before:

"Surely you could not expect to get help for us from Cherry Valley?"

"Ay; and that is just what I did."

"Is my uncle here?"

"No, indeed; he believed my scheme to be so wild that he would hardly listen to me, and said you three had the same as come to your death already, therefore it was useless to raise a finger in your behalf while there were so many hundred people near at hand needin' assistance."

"Who then did you expect would come to our aid?" I asked, and Jacob replied, with what sounded very like a chuckle of satisfaction:

"Who else, save the Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley?"

But for the rawhide ropes which held me so cruelly immovable, I would have leaped to my feet in astonishment; as it was, I involuntarily gave so violent a start as to cause myself considerable pain, and then asked, in great heat:

"Why do you play upon our hopes, so lately raised, by declaring that the company of lads is here?"

"Not a bit of play about it, Noel," Jacob replied, in so cheery a tone that my heart became wondrously light. "Four an' twenty of our company, with John Sammons still acting as captain, are within an hundred yards of this lodge, an', what is more, we count on takin' you away with us before another day shall dawn."

Then it was as if Jacob believed he had satisfied our curiosity so much as was necessary at such a time, for without delay he moved from one to the other, deftly cutting the rawhide which held us motionless, and three minutes had not elapsed from the time he first showed himself inside the lodge until our limbs were freed.

We were no longer bound, but yet remained helpless. I could move neither hand nor foot, struggle as I might. It was as if my limbs were dead while my body yet remained alive; but Jacob, who had in his wild plan considered just such a probability, set about chafing my arms and legs until the feeling began to return.

He performed the same office for Sergeant Corney, I aiding in the task before it was finished; but a good ten minutes elapsed before we had command of our limbs, and then it was that even Master Sitz began to believe it might be possible for us to escape from the encampment.

While he worked over us, Jacob, understanding that we were being literally overwhelmed with curiosity regarding his movements during the long absence, explained that he was but a short distance from the cave when we were made prisoners, and at first almost gave way to despair because of what seemed to him the hardest stroke which an ill fortune could deliver.

During that night he kept us in view, until learning that we would not be put to death immediately, and then the lad searched in his mind for some plan which might give promise, however slight, of success.

He could not hope that those in the fort, closely besieged as they were, would be willing to make a desperate venture in order to aid three men, when so many hundred were in peril, and, even though the chances might be in favor of Colonel Gansevoort's being ready to make a sortie in our behalf, they were decidedly against Jacob's being able to communicate with the garrison.

Then it was he bethought himself of the Minute Boys, who were not absolutely needed in Cherry Valley after the hundred and fifty soldiers were quartered there, and, without knowing how they might be able to aid him in the almost hopeless task, he set off at full speed for our home, travelling by night as by day, with no more halts than were absolutely necessary in order to recruit his strength.

Colonel Campbell, my uncle, was much averse to Jacob's wild plans. He believed that, because of the danger which threatened all the inhabitants of the Mohawk Valley, it was in the highest degree foolhardy to make any such effort toward saving the lives of three people as might jeopardize an hundred times that number. However, while saying flatly it was a boy's scheme, and not worthy the attention of men, he stated that he would not put any obstruction in the way of those who chose to make the hazard, save to state openly that whosoever left on such a mission was but hastening his own death.

It quickened the sluggish blood in my veins when Jacob said that, after he had summoned the Minute Boys and explained to them in what peril we three were, never one showed the slightest disinclination to do as he proposed.

John Sammons, the lad who was acting as captain in my absence, insisted that it was plainly the duty of every member of the company to do whatsoever he might in our behalf, and the result was that the lad had been in Cherry Valley no more than half an hour before every member of the company was armed and outfitted for the perilous venture.

At the very last moment, however, eight or ten of the number were dissuaded by their parents; but the remainder started hotfoot for Fort Schuyler, arriving an hour before this last day had dawned.

The only plan which Jacob had formed in his mind was to get speech with us as speedily as possible after arriving. Then, if needs be, he would make a dash upon the encampment, and trust to the Minute Boys fighting their way out with us in their midst.

Fortunately, however, he saw very speedily after daybreak that something of import was taking place, and wisely waited until it could be seen that every warrior was making ready for a grand powwow.

Now, so he told us, the Minute Boys were waiting hardly more than an hundred yards distant, and, if it should be possible for us to make our way through the encampment to that point, it was the determination of every lad to fight to the best of his ability, with the hope of being able to retreat meanwhile in case the Indians were aroused.

He who would not have done his best at escaping after all Jacob's work, and in face of the pluck shown by our comrades, deserved of a verity to remain prisoner even until he was led to the stake; but, as can well be imagined, neither of us three hung back from the hazard, for surely it was better to die fighting than be tortured as Thayendanega's wolves could torture a human being.

Master Sitz made one stipulation, however, which was that Jacob should lead the way as we crept out from the lodge, and, in event of our attempt at escape being discovered while we were yet within the encampment, the lad was to save himself without giving heed to us.

"There shall not be another victim added to our number," Jacob's father said, in a tone of determination. "Strike out for your comrades, in case the alarm is given, my boy, and if we are taken again leave us to our fate."

Jacob made no reply to this; but I believed that if the need arose he would disobey his father's command without compunction.

There was no time to linger. At any moment the powwow might be brought to an end, or some warrior return to the encampment, therefore it stood us in hand to move quickly, and so we did.

Not until Jacob was well outside the lodge did either of us three make any move to follow him, and then Sergeant Corney would have pushed me under the skins, which he raised slightly, but that I hung back, declaring it was Master Sitz's place to go first; but the old man forced me forward.

How my heart beat when for the first time in eight days I had full command of my limbs, and wriggled myself out into the clear air! It seemed as if every movement of my arms or legs caused so much noise that the few who remained in the lodges must be alarmed, and that I moved at even less than a snail's pace, when every muscle was being strained in the effort to advance rapidly.

The perspiration came out upon my forehead in great drops, caused, not by the heat, but by the mental anguish, and again and again I said to myself that Jacob had labored for naught, since it would be impossible I could crawl undetected even over the short distance.

And when, in my excited frame of mind, it seemed as if the escape was but just begun, I found myself in the thicket amid those lads who had been my playmates since I could remember, while each strove to show in silence how delighted he was that I had come safely.

Then ensued another time of keenest suspense, when we strained our ears to hear the lightest sound which should betoken that the squaws of the encampment had been alarmed, and once more our hearts leaped up in joy as Master Sitz came behind the screen of bushes.

Now we had only to wait for Sergeant Corney, and, having seen what he could do in the wilderness, I had no doubt but that he would succeed in his purpose, which he soon did.

Perhaps no more than half an hour had passed from the time we first saw Jacob until we three, so lately prisoners, were surrounded by that brave band of lads who, by calling themselves "Minute Boys," had excited the mirth of the elders of Cherry Valley, and yet never one who was not prepared to sacrifice his own life for the welfare of the others.

"What are we to do?" Sergeant Corney said, turning to me, as if I should resume command of this company of mine, and I replied, promptly, with never a thought of claiming my rights as captain:

"It is for you to lead, sergeant, an' we will obey. There's not one in this company so well fitted as you to take us out from amid the dangers which surround us."

"Yet my idea of what is safest may seem to the rest of you like veriest folly," he replied, as if he would shirk the responsibility, and Master Sitz said, eagerly:

"It all seems to me like a piece of folly, Sergeant Corney, even though because of it are we brought out from the power of our enemies. You can do no more hairbrained things than has already been done by my son."

"Then, if the command be left to me, we shall make our way into Fort Schuyler, provided that be possible."

"Fort Schuyler!" I cried, in dismay.

"Ay, lad, an' we shall be there before another day dawns if we live, provided we make the start."

"But why not put as many miles between us and this place as is possible?" I cried, with no slight show of irritation, for the imminence of the danger set every nerve tingling until I could think of nothing save the most hurried flight.

"It stands us in hand to go there, first, because they are in need of our help, and, secondly, because we shall stand a better show of finally escaping from the savages."

"How do you make that out?" John Sammons asked, and I understood from his tone that he was not inclined for the hazard.

"Think you Thayendanega's wolves will lose the prisoners whom they counted on seeing at the stake, without some effort to retake them?" the old man asked, sharply, and John Sammons replied:

"All that we understand; but reckon on puttin' a goodly distance between us an' yonder encampment before to-morrow mornin'. Unless there is an accident the escape will not be known for many hours, and then should we have so much the lead that we could count with some degree of assurance upon gaining Cherry Valley."

"In that I do not agree, lad, an' for many reasons. We cannot advance at full speed, because it will be necessary to spend some time in learnin' whether there be an enemy in the road; but the savages followin' the trail may come as fast as their legs can bring them, therefore will they travel three miles to our two."

"Ay; but we should be able to hold in good play as many as may overtake us."

"That must be accordin' to the fortunes of war. It is hardly to be reckoned that we could fight a pitched battle without losin' some portion of our company, and I would have this brave rescue of yours accomplished with as little cost as may be. Therefore have I in mind to enter Fort Schuyler."

I cannot truly say that Sergeant Corney convinced us his plan was the best; but certain it is we were silenced, as was no more than proper, since it stood to reason he knew best about such affairs.

After this, having made up our minds that we must attempt the perilous task, came the question of how it should be done, and on this point the old soldier gave us very little opportunity for discussion.

"It is my plan that we circle around the encampment, even beyond St. Leger's quarters, in order to get a general idea of what may be goin' on, an', havin' arrived at the road westward of the fortification, you lads shall get in hidin' while I try once more to open communication with the garrison."

"Why should you go alone?" I asked. "We might remain in a body, and thus save just so much time. If one can do the trick, then may it be possible for two, or a dozen."

"Yes, to make one's way across the open country, I grant you; but remember, lad, how long it would have taken to gain admission when we were there before had the garrison not been warned that we were in the vicinity. This time they will look upon us as enemies until we are near enough to make ourselves known, and such a force as is here would appear to them like an attackin' party."

The sergeant was right, as I now understood full well, and, although I craved not the dangerous work, because my comrades were near at hand I desired they should see that I shirked not peril.

However, all seemed to understand that, if the sergeant's plan was to be carried out, he should arrange the details, and therefore I held my peace.

In order to gain the westerly side of the fort from the Indian encampment, in the vicinity of which we then were, and learn what might be going on at St. Leger's headquarters, it would be necessary to cross the river and traverse at least two-thirds of a complete circle around the fortification.

Much time might have been saved had we crossed the Mohawk to the southward, without venturing near the camps of the British.

Sergeant Corney seemed to consider that it was more important to get a general idea of the disposition of St. Leger's forces before entering the fort, than to save ourselves so much labor, therefore he led the way eastwardly half a mile or more, until we were come to the narrowest part of the river, when we swam over, afterward heading directly for the main encampment of the besiegers.

Still acting under Sergeant Corney's directions, the greater part of the company kept at a respectful distance when we were come within the vicinity of St. Leger's headquarters, while he, Jacob, and I crept forward to reconnoitre.

Because of the many fires and the apparent confidence of the enemy that no attempt would be made to surprise them, we had ample opportunity to see all that was required.

The biggest kind of a feast, or powwow, or council, or whatever it might have been called, was in progress, and so deeply interested were the Britishers, Tories, and Indians alike that I believe of a verity we could have approached within fifty feet and not been discovered save by purest accident.

"Whatever they've got on hand seems to be somethin' that'll last well through the night," Sergeant Corney said, as he lay amid the bushes watching the various groups of men, both white and red. "If Colonel Gansevoort could only know what's goin' on at this minute, I allow he'd make such a sortie as would raise this siege in quick order. We couldn't have a better night for enterin' the fort, an', if we don't succeed, it'll be our fault, or through the blundering of some fool sentinel."

To one who had not been in this vicinity, as had I, the old soldier's words might have induced the belief that we were really not exposed to danger in making the proposed venture; but I knew full well he believed, as did I, that, however many might be feasting and dancing in the encampment, there were a certain number watching the fort, and if one of them should catch a glimpse of us the business would be at an end right speedily.

When Sergeant Corney had satisfied himself with a scrutiny of the camp, he led the way to the northward, where the Minute Boys were in hiding, and, arriving there, explained in few words the situation, to the end that they might be encouraged for that which was to come.

I question if, after showing the bravery they already had, the lads needed any words to stiffen their backs; but it pleased the old soldier to make it appear as if we had clear sailing before us, and did no real harm.

Then we started on the march, which would be long because it was necessary, after passing the encampment, to make considerable of a detour in order to avoid, first, a battery of three guns, then one of four mortars, and, lastly, a battery of three more guns, all of which extended northwesterly from St. Leger's headquarters.

After this distance had been traversed, we passed within less than two hundred feet of the line of trenches which had been begun as an approach to the fort, and then bore to the southward again, crossing the Albany road.

Finally, at perhaps two o'clock in the morning, we arrived at a broad elevation, the easternmost slope of which came very near to the outer walls of the fort.

Here it would be necessary to advance without cover for perhaps an hundred yards, and it was this last and most dangerous work that Sergeant Corney insisted on doing himself.

My company found fairly good hiding-places in the thicket near at hand, Jacob and I creeping out to the edge of the foliage in order to keep watch upon the old soldier as he made his way like a snake over the plain, which was almost entirely destitute of vegetation.

He set off without delay, for, owing to the lateness of the hour, there was no time to be wasted, and our hearts were literally in our mouths as we watched him make his way slowly along, at imminent danger each second of being fired upon by the sentinels inside the fort.



Chapter XII.

In the Fort



Everything was in our favor on this night, otherwise Sergeant Corney's attempt would not have been the simple matter which it appears as set down by me.

True it is we had previously visited the fort, and that while many of the enemy's sentinels were on the alert; but because a task has once been done is no proof that it may be accomplished a second time. In fact, it is by trying a hazardous venture again and again that it becomes yet more dangerous, or, in other words, "The pitcher that goes often to the well will one day return broken."

I question if there could have been found in the entire Mohawk Valley a man who would have performed the task better than did Sergeant Corney. The night was not particularly dark, and we who were watching from the undergrowth knew exactly where to look for him, but yet there were many times when I failed utterly to distinguish his form, although, as I have already said, there was nothing in the way of vegetation to screen his movements.

Only when he half-raised himself to make certain he was advancing in a direct course could we see him, and when, after perhaps twenty minutes of such stealthy approach, the deeper shadow cast by the fortification itself had been gained, he was entirely lost to our view.

Then was come the time when I feared most for his safety, although, if the sentinel had failed to see him making his way across the open space, we might have reasonable hope that the remainder of his scheme, less dangerous, could be worked without mishap.

It seemed to me as if an hour elapsed from the time he disappeared before we saw any sign of him again. The minutes passed laggingly, although while there was no outcry we knew full well he had come to no harm; but yet I trembled with anxiety until we finally saw a figure upon the wall waving its arms, and I said to Jacob:

"That is the signal for us to advance."

"Advance where?" he asked, in perplexity. "Surely it is not possible for us to get in at any point."

"We can at least hold communication with those inside if we creep to the new portion of the fort, which as yet is only a stockade—the same place where the sergeant and I had converse with Colonel Gansevoort."

It appears, as I finally learned, that the sergeant believed I would have sufficient sense to understand it was at this place we must effect an entrance, if anywhere, and I ought to have known at the time, for, after waving his arms to attract attention, he walked along the wall, disappearing near what was known as the "horn-works," which as yet were enclosed only by a stockade of logs.

To summon the Minute Boys and bring them to the edge of the clearing was but the work of a few moments, and then was done that which I venture to say has seldom been accomplished during such a siege as was then in progress.

For an armed party of nearly thirty to cross an open plain, supposedly under the very eyes of the enemy's sentinels, without being discovered, is something of which to boast, yet we Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley did it without raising an alarm.

When the foremost of us, among whom I was, gained that portion of the fortification of which I have already spoken, the sergeant was lowering a long ladder over the stockade, and up this we clambered without delay, the entire party getting inside the fort within two minutes after the ascent was begun.

What a time of congratulation that was! The garrison pressed around to praise us and pat themselves on the head, because we had come at what was, for them, an opportune time. Not only was the fort reinforced by no inconsiderable number, but we brought with us fairly good information as to the condition of affairs in the enemy's camp.

The men were yet praising and thanking us for having come at such a time, when an officer approached with the word that Colonel Gansevoort wished to speak with the leaders of the party.

"That means you, Noel," the sergeant said, patting me on the shoulder. "The colonel quite rightly believes that we can give him valuable information, an' is eager to have it."

"But I am not the leader of the party," I said, finding time to be a bit bashful, now that the imminent danger was passed.

"Who is, if not the captain of the company?" the old man asked, with a smile.

"You, an' you always were when we were at home, Sergeant Corney, therefore are you doubly the leader now, after having brought us safely in from the encampment."

The old soldier flatly refused to present himself as being in command of the Minute Boys, and there is no saying how long we might have wrangled among ourselves had not Colonel Willett, impatient to see us, come up just at that moment.

After asking a few questions, he settled the matter by saying:

"If you lads who have accomplished so much which men might well have feared to attempt, are not willing that one should have more praise than another, let all those who have been in command at different times present themselves to Colonel Gansevoort, and then, mayhap, we shall hear that for which we are so eager."

I am free to admit that it was childish in any of us to hang back at such a moment, but, thanks to Colonel Willett, the matter was arranged as he suggested, Sergeant Corney, John Sammons, Jacob, and I going to the commandant's quarters, escorted by the colonel and the messenger who had been sent for us.

There was no real occasion for us to have been timid regarding the interview with the commandant of Fort Schuyler, for a more pleasantly spoken, neighborly-like man it was never my good fortune to come in contact with.

One would have said that he was interested personally in each and every one of us, from the questions he asked concerning our having organized a company of Minute Boys, how we had been drilled, and such like homely matters.

Then, having shown himself to be a friend, as it were, he began getting that information which was necessary for the safety of the garrison. First he was eager to learn regarding the battle of Oriskany, for those inside the fort knew nothing whatsoever of that disastrous ambush, save such as could be guessed by the reports of the firearms and the bearing of the Indians after they beat a retreat.

Sergeant Corney flatly refused to tell the story, insisting that I was the better able to do so, and, in the presence of Colonel Gansevoort and all his principal officers, I related the events of that day when an able soldier and a brave man was forced by the prating of cowards to lead his soldiers where he knew, almost beyond a peradventure, he had no hope of winning a victory.

Then Jacob and I in turn gave an account of what had been done, bringing our story up to the time when Sergeant Corney took the lead in the attempt to gain the fort, and the old man could not well refuse to describe what he had seen that night regarding the disposition of the enemy's forces.

That Colonel Gansevoort and his officers were deeply interested in our recital may be understood by the fact that day had fully come before we were at an end of our stories, and yet never one of them had shown the slightest impatience or a desire to cut us short.

"I know of no greater favor which could have been done the garrison, save that of bringing in additional stores and larger reinforcements, than what has come to us through you," Colonel Gansevoort said, when we had imparted all our information. "I hope you will not regret having made this effort to aid us, and, if it so be an opportunity ever offers, I will see to it that, so far as is within my power, the Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley shall receive substantial credit from their country-men because of services rendered. We will give you as good quarters as we have; but if the rations seem scanty now and then, you must remember that we are not in position to get all we may require in the way of eatables."

"Will you answer me one question, sir, an' not deem it impertinent?" Sergeant Corney asked, with a degree of humility such as I had never before seen him exhibit.

"An hundred if you please. We can hardly refuse anything to those who have given us so much encouragement this night as have you and your comrades."

"I would like to know, sir, simply from curiosity, an' not because it would make any difference with my desire to go or stay, if you have a good show of holdin' the fort against so strong a force as is under St. Leger's command?"

"I believe we have," the colonel replied, thoughtfully. "At all events, I promise you that we will not surrender; but, if the worst comes to the worst, I shall sally out at night with the idea of cutting my way through the enemy's lines. Our provisions are running low; the enemy has advanced by parallels within an hundred and fifty yards, and the store of ammunition is by no means as great as we could wish. Our only hope is that General Schuyler may be able to succor us."

"If a company of thirty boys can move through Thayendanega's camp, spy upon the British, and force their way into this fort unharmed, then of a surety can I do half as much," Colonel Willett said, vehemently. "I will undertake to make my way to General Schuyler, setting out when another night shall have come."

"And I will go with you!" an officer, whom I afterward came to know was Lieutenant Stockwell cried heartily, whereupon the sergeant, puffed up because of what we had already done, declared that Jacob, he, and I would act as messengers.

"It is enough for you to have shown us that the task can be accomplished," Colonel Willett said with a smile. "I have been the first to volunteer for such service, and claim the right to go."

At this point the commandant suggested in the most friendly manner that perhaps we who had lately arrived might be in need of food, and I fancied he made this suggestion in order to be rid of us while he and his officers discussed the proposition.

At all events, we left headquarters and were conducted by Lieutenant Stockwell to a portion of the barracks which was set aside especially for the Minute Boys, to the end that we might all be together.

"Rations shall be served you at once," the lieutenant said, as he turned to leave us, and, although he kept his word, it was past noon before we had an opportunity to break our fast, because it seemed as if nearly every man in the garrison was eager to hold personal converse with us in order to learn what he might concerning the besieging army.

No matter however much we as a company might succeed in doing in the future, certain it is we could not be petted or praised more than we were during that first day in the fort.

We had not accomplished anything remarkable, so far as I could see; aided by all the circumstances, and particularly by the fact that St. Leger's force had concluded to hold a powwow with the Indians on that certain night, we had come across the plain when, at another time and under other conditions, we might have made an hundred attempts without succeeding.

It was, as Sergeant Corney would put it, the fortune of war, or the accident of war, which enabled us to do as we had done, and only the old soldier himself could take personal credit for our being there.

If the garrison was on short allowance, we never would have suspected it during the first four and twenty hours of our stay, for every man inside the walls who had anything in the way of food which he thought might tempt our appetites, offered it to us, and the wonder of it all is that we were not so puffed up with pride as to behave very foolishly.

Late in the afternoon, on the day after we arrived, Colonel Willett came to our quarters, and, sitting down among us regardless of his rank and high attainments as a military officer, talked in the most neighborly fashion with us concerning the surrounding country, the different routes we had pursued when coming to or going from the fort, and, particularly, concerning what we might have heard regarding the movements of the enemy between Fort Schuyler and Oswego.

Of course to this last question we could give no satisfactory reply; but certain it is that he gained very much of useful information which would serve him in his attempt to reach General Schuyler. Having come to an end of his inquiries, he told us that it had been determined between himself and the commandant that on the next stormy night he and Lieutenant Stockwell would make an effort to leave the fort on their way to Stillwater, where it seems he believed the general would be found.

Sergeant Corney begged hard to be allowed to accompany the two officers, but the colonel said, laughingly:

"You will remain where you are, sir, unless it is in your mind to leave here because of the danger which threatens. Already have you done enough in the way of scouting."

"I hope you do not think, sir, that I would run away because of anythin' like that?"

"No, my man, I am quite certain you never would; but you are not to gain all the credit in this siege, for I count on taking some of it myself, unless, peradventure, the enemy treat me worse than they did you."

Then the colonel left us, and right glad was I that he had not accepted the sergeant's offer, for I might in some way have been dragged into the venture, and of a verity I had had enough in that line of work to last me so long as I might live. It is all very well when a fellow is beyond reach of danger to speculate upon what might be done to gain a name for himself; but quite another matter to take his life in his hand any oftener than may be absolutely necessary.

On the following morning I presented myself to the commandant with a complaint, having been prompted thereto by Sergeant Corney. We had not yet been assigned to any duty, and each member of the garrison seemed particularly averse to allowing us to even help ourselves.