CHAPTER XIX. FREEING THE VALLEY

I believed that now, if ever, was the time when we might give John Butler’s curs such a drubbing they would be glad to follow their leader, and I also realized that if we could not strike a heavy blow on this night, then might we expect to get it hot from then on.

We had already shown the brutes they were not to have everything their own way, as had been the case since they first began the bloody work; but if we failed to follow up our advantage, it went without saying that they would be upon us next day burning to avenge the death of their fellows.

All this I said to my comrades as we paddled swiftly up-stream, working gradually toward the other shore, and Giles March replied, grimly:

“It is better to fight one tough battle than half a dozen mild ones wherein neither side gains an advantage. If you are so minded, Jonathan Ogden, I will follow you even into Forty Fort.”

“Except for dividing a party already too small to hold one stockade comfortably, I believe we might take the fort this night; but even if it was open for us to walk in, we would have no right to take possession, because of the fact that, once inside, we might find it difficult to get out again, and it is as Master Bartlett has just said—they will soon be needing us at the Wilkesbarre stockade.”

We had hardly more than gained the shadows of the opposite shore when from around a bend came a canoe in which were three savages, heading as if to join the fellows we had just routed, and I motioned for those at the paddles to hold our canoe motionless.

“I’ll take the one in the bow; Giles March shall aim at the second fellow, and Daniel Hinchman will look after the third,” I whispered. “One, two, three, fire!”

The three reports rang out like one, and the canoe swung around with the current, having in it nothing of life, for our aim had been true.

“It is such work as we will continue to do until every wolfish savage and Tory cur is driven out of the valley!” I said, exultantly, and then gave the word for both canoes to be put in to the shore.

There could be no question but that those nearabout the fort had heard the firing, and we might expect some of them would come to learn the cause. We had no desire for a regular battle on that side of the river, therefore did I believe it best to get under cover.

By the time we had landed and hauled the canoes out of water at the foot of a huge oak-tree, where we might be able to find them again without too much searching, it was possible to hear cries from the opposite shore, as those who had retreated in such haste called for their comrades to ferry them across, while near at hand were such sounds as told that the red villains were disturbed.

“While they are hunting around here for us, we will make our way to the fort, and then come down upon them once more in the rear,” I said to my comrades. “If we can double on them two or three times, as when we began this work, I’m of the mind they will believe themselves completely surrounded.”

Then, without waiting to hear what they might think of the plan, I pressed forward in the direction where I knew the fort lay, but taking good care to get away from the river bank with all speed.

By skulking behind this ruin or that, crawling across the open places, and running when having gained what would serve as cover, we arrived in the rear of the fort at about the same time that a large number of half-naked imps passed out of the big gates, heading toward the river.

Now that we had arrived I was wholly at a loss to decide what it might be possible to do. I had sufficient sense to understand that it would be more than foolhardy to venture inside, for even though only a few remained there, they might be strong enough to hold us in play until some of those from the river bank could come up, when the capture of our party would be well-nigh certain.

While I stood within the shadow of the heavy timbers asking myself how we might strike a blow, my eyes fell upon a heap of shavings, left, no doubt, when one of the savages fitted a new handle to his tomahawk, and I said on the impulse of the moment to Daniel Hinchman:

“Everything hereabout is dry as tinder, and if we could gather enough light stuff it might be possible to set fire to the logs. Then, in the excitement, I’m thinking it would be possible to shoot down a few more of the murderers.”

It was as if he took this for a command, and in a twinkling all the party were gathering such inflammable material as was nearest at hand.

Because there was close about so much with which to start a fire, no more than five minutes were spent before we had piled up against the logs, and stuffed into the crevices, a huge mass which extended along the wall for a distance of perhaps twenty feet.

“If that doesn’t set the stockade on fire, it will make a big show,” Giles March said, with a chuckle of satisfaction. “What is to be done when the blaze has been started?”

“We’ll make for the bushes along the river bank, and it will go hard if we don’t succeed in hurting half a dozen before they understand what is going on,” I said, and then came the question of lighting the dry stuff without spending too much time.

It was Giles March who settled the matter by proposing that he and I stay behind while the others gained a hiding-place near the water’s edge, and then set off the pile at each end by flashing into it powder from our muskets.

This we did, taking to our heels immediately tiny flames told that the burning powder had done its work, and we succeeded in joining our comrades before the savages were alarmed.

Hardly more than fifty paces from where we were hidden a dozen or more of the curs stood looking toward the other shore, chattering like a lot of crows, and I motioned to my comrades that when the right moment came we would take the group for our targets.

The flames leaped up quickly and furiously; but fully five minutes passed before a single cry was heard, and during that time the fire must have fastened on to the dry logs of the stockade. Then a shrill cry was heard from the fort; the curs we were watching wheeled suddenly around, cried out as if summoning some of their comrades near at hand, and would have run in the direction of the flames, but that we fired.

How many fell I am unable to say, for I was bent only on reloading in the shortest possible space of time, and when my weapon was in condition for use once more, not an Indian could be seen.

I counted that we had the wolves in a fine state of indecision, for it stood to reason they had taken all their belongings into the fort when John Butler marched out, and if they stopped to hunt for us everything might be burned, while, on the other hand, unless we were dealt with speedily, others would fall beneath our bullets.

When the last of the party had loaded his musket, I led the way rapidly as far up toward the flames as we could go while remaining under cover, saying to my comrades when we were again halted:

“Shoot the first cur who shows himself, and at a show of their coming for us, make all speed to where the canoes are hidden. I reckon we’ve done as much mischief on this side of the river as is safe, for I’m not minded to lose any member of this party.”

We had not been in position above two minutes when five Indians came up from the shore at full speed, counting to pass within a dozen paces of where we were in hiding, and I motioned for the other fellows to fire, at the same time preventing Daniel Hinchman and Giles March from raising their weapons.

Thus it was we had three loaded muskets when the race began after we fired into the squad, for it so chanced that following directly on the heels of those whom we shot at was a larger party, who opened fire immediately, at random, of course, since we were under cover, but more than one of their bullets came nearer than was pleasing.

Then it was, in accordance with the plan already formed, that we beat a retreat; but before arriving at the oak-tree four of the curs were close behind, and we saw the advantage of having saved three charges for an emergency.

“Giles March and Daniel Hinchman will halt and fire when I give the word,” I said, while we were running. “The others are to keep on for fifty paces, and then, if we are yet pursued, stop to reload in order to check those who may be behind us.”

Then I cried “Halt!” and my two comrades stopped suddenly, wheeling around like a flash, and discharging their weapons before our pursuers had time to swerve from their course.

We brought down only two; but the others took to their heels, and for the moment we were safe from pursuit.

The rest of our party halted to reload, as I had ordered, and when we three came up, it was to follow their example.

Having recharged my musket, I was so foolish as to fancy the moment had come when we might exult over our successes, and stopped to have speech with my comrades, giving no heed as to silence; but the first word had no more than been spoken when half a dozen muskets were discharged close at hand from the riverside, while the sharp twinge, followed by a sensation as of burning, told that I had received a bullet in my left arm.

“Don’t shoot till you can see what you are firing at!” I cried. “Press on to the canoes, else are we like to find ourselves in a trap!”

But for the fact that we were among the bushes, all of us might have been shot down. Even as it was we found it exceeding difficult to get out of the scrape, for the savages pressed us hard, but without showing themselves, and it seemed as if their numbers were increasing each instant.

Then came the time when I realized that it would be worse than folly to answer their shots. The curs were so near that nothing save speed would avail us, and I gave the word for the lads to run at their best speed, without regard to anything except keeping themselves hidden from view as much as possible.

When I came up to where the canoes had been left, they were already in the water, and now was our time of greatest peril, for while paddling out from the shore the savages could shoot at will.

“We’re working for our lives now, lads!” I said, speaking hurriedly, while clambering into the frail craft. “Let all save those at the paddles be ready to shoot when the first villain breaks cover, and while reloading, bend over as much as possible, lest you give them too fair a mark at which to aim.”

As I think of the matter now, it seems almost incredible that any of us got away alive, and yet we finally came out of the scrimmage with only one wound in addition to that which I had received. Miles Parker had an ugly cut on his cheek as good proof that John Butler’s wolves were precious poor marksmen, and my arm was useless.

Before getting well clear of the shore we put an end to three of the wolves who had ravaged the valley, and then, in midstream, we could see the flames leaping high into the air over Forty Fort, telling that the last stockade remaining on that side of the river was speedily being destroyed.

“It’s a good night’s work, lads!” I cried, exultantly, heeding not the pain in my arm. “We have struck a blow such as they won’t forget, and it will go hard if we can’t deal another now that they are without a fort, save by crossing the river!”

“If we can only keep after them!” Giles March cried. “Two or three more nights like this one, and they would be glad to follow John Butler’s trail.”

“They shall have as much more of this work as they are willing to stand,” I replied, hotly. “The two of us who are wounded will soon be ready for duty again, and in the meantime the rest of you can keep up the dance.”

Then we were within hailing distance of our stockade, and Master Bartlett’s voice came to us from across the water, as he asked, anxiously:

“Are you all there, lads?”

“Ay, and with but two slight wounds to show for all the powder and lead those curs have wasted,” I replied, gleefully.

“And it was you who set fire to Forty Fort?”

“That we did, and if our company had been a little larger, I dare venture to say we could have taken the stockade.”

“We couldn’t have held it, therefore it is better it should go up in smoke without delay,” Master Bartlett replied, and then we were at the shore.

Carrying the canoes with us, we entered the stockade, and it so chanced that Daniel Hinchman and I were side by side when Esther came up.

“Which of you has been wounded?” she asked, sharply, and Daniel made answer:

“Jonathan Ogden. His arm should be attended to at once, for we can ill afford to lose our leader at the very time when the Minute Boys are showing what it is possible for them to do.”

She spoke never a word, but would have led me away at once had not Master Bartlett stopped us to ask:

“Think you that those whose canoes we captured are yet on this side of the river?”

“They must be. I question if the scoundrels at the fort have had time or the inclination to go after them, for we made matters right lively.”

“And I’m thinking that we should keep up the work,” Master Bartlett replied. “There’s no chance they will get their wits together sufficiently to make an attack this night, and if you say the word, Stephen Morley and I will take four or five of the lads who did not go with you, and see whether we can’t add to the work you’ve done, before the sun rises.”

It made me a bit jealous to think of a party setting off while I remained behind; but I could not reasonably make any objection to his proposition, and even as I entered the blockhouse with Esther that my wound might be dressed, the old man went out through the small gate.

“I’ll answer for his lessening the number of those brutes before we see him again, and now if ever is the time to keep after them, for once they have a chance to gather their wits, we’ll have our work cut out for us,” Giles March said, as he went to the spring, and I followed Esther into the building, almost content to be disabled since she was to play the part of nurse.

Had I done as Esther Hinchman begged me, I would have remained inside the blockhouse all night, counting myself an invalid who stood in great need of repose; but it would have required more than one small wound to keep me there among the women and children while the Minute Boys were giving good proof of what they could do when half an opportunity presented itself.

When, an hour later, I came into the open air, Giles March and Daniel Hinchman were keeping watch, although all the platforms were occupied by the women who acted as sentinels. Forty Fort was yet burning fiercely, the flames rising so high in the air that they must have been seen twenty miles away, and I said to my comrades:

“The red curs didn’t make any effort to put out the fire.”

“I reckon that was our fault,” Daniel replied, with a hearty laugh. “We made such a disturbance around there that, by the time they had a chance to do anything except hunt us, the flames must have got under good headway. It is likely all the lodges had been set up inside the stockade, and I’m hoping they didn’t have a chance to save them.”

There was really nothing I could do in the enclosure, while so many of the women were on guard, and after a few moments I went to see Elias Shendle, who, so Esther had told me, was mending very fast.

The poor lad almost cried when I told him of all we had done that night, so great was his sorrow because of not being with us; but I consoled him as best I might by predicting that he would soon be able to do his full share of the work, and promising he should go out with a party whenever there was a likelihood of striking the enemy hard.

The talking caused a feeling of drowsiness to creep over me, and, lying down by his side with the idea of taking a short nap, I fell into a sleep from which I did not awaken until after sunrise next morning.

“Why didn’t you arouse me?” I asked reproachfully of Elias, and he replied, with a smile:

“I would have done so when Master Bartlett and his party came back; but Esther Hinchman threatened me with all kinds of dreadful punishments if I so much as moved, and because she seems to be in authority over us who are wounded, it didn’t seem wise to disobey her.”

Going out-of-doors quickly, I found Master Bartlett lying on the ground near the door of the blockhouse, and he did not wait for me to question him concerning what had been done.

“I brought all the lads back, and with never a scratch on one of them,” he said, in a tone of triumph, as I appeared.

“Did you find the savages?”

“Ay, that we did, a dozen or more, and before we were done they had a taste of what our people suffered when they were used as targets while striving to swim across. I can’t say just how much we accomplished, but am satisfied that a full half of the squad won’t make any more trouble for us. In addition to that, we’ve got two more prisoners to feed, and they have lost another canoe.”

“It will be necessary for them to set about boat-building, if they count on staying here very much longer,” I said, with a laugh. “It seems to me, unless John Butler brought twice as many canoes as his army needed, we must have gathered in the better part of their outfit.”

“Another night like that just past, and we’ll have seen the last of those who have wrought so much harm to us of the valley. With our two prisoners we got a couple more muskets, and I’m thinking it wouldn’t be a bad idea to search along this shore. We must have killed some of the brutes, who are lying there with their weapons.”

It surprised me that I had not hit upon such a plan myself, and as soon as might be I sent out Giles March, with three comrades, to search for whatsoever might be of service to us.

The party came back before noon, bringing five muskets and eight hatchets, as well as a goodly store of ammunition, therefore could we count that the number of Minute Boys ready for duty had been increased by seven, counting the guns taken from the prisoners.

Now were we in good truth a power in the valley, and straightway I set about racking my brains for something in the way of one grand blow, other than risking a regular battle, which would convince the enemy that it was unsafe for him to remain any longer.

“We are strong enough to stand against a goodly number of them now,” I said, thinking aloud, and Master Bartlett replied as if I had questioned him:

“You’ll do no more fighting this two weeks, lad, and I’ve had it in mind that you had better let Stephen Morley and me go out for awhile. I’m burning to know where the brutes are located now the stockade has been destroyed.”

Well, we talked long and earnestly on the matter, finally coming to the agreement that the old man should, on the coming night, take a dozen lads with him, and cross the river; but it was with the understanding that he would not make an attack save when the odds or chances were greatly in his favor.

It was not pleasant for me to see my comrades setting off while I remained behind; but there was no help for it when another night had come, and I stood on the platform nearest the water, with Esther Hinchman by my side, watching the dear lads as they paddled across the river, wishing most fervently that I could be with them.

They had not been gone above half an hour, and I was still on the lookout’s platform by the side of Esther, when we were startled by seeing what appeared to be a veritable army of men coming up the river. For the moment I believed the savages had circled around back of Forty Fort to surprise us, thinking we would have no suspicions of those who came from that direction.

I had just leaned over to tell one of the women who chanced to be passing that all the men were to be aroused, when there came a hail in good English from the fleet of canoes.

“Fort ahoy!”

When I had replied to the hail the question came:

“Who is holding that stockade?”

“The Minute Boys of Wyoming Valley, aided by those who were so fortunate as to come from Forty Fort alive.”

“Who is in command?”

“I, Jonathan Ogden.”

“You have done well to hold the place, lad; but it will be easier from now on. I am bringing you thirty good recruits, all of whom are well armed, and amply supplied with ammunition and provisions.”

I could hardly credit my own ears, for such news seemed far too good to be true, and I cried, incredulously:

“Who may you be to have brought us that of which we stand so sadly in need?”

“John Franklin, of Hunterdon. I went with Colonel Zebulon Butler’s followers to Conyngham, and nearabout there have mustered these recruits, all of whom are eager to meet those who have laid waste this valley.”

Half an hour later Captain Franklin and his men were inside the stockade, having brought with them in the way of ammunition and provisions sufficient to serve us for many days to come.

I did not really believe that all these young men—there were no old ones among them—would be willing to serve under me until we had come together and I put the question squarely to them, when they declared their willingness to regularly enlist, if it might be possible so to do.

We were yet holding converse, seated on the ground near the blockhouse, when Esther Hinchman cried out that Master Bartlett’s party was returning, and, leaping up on the platform, I cried to the old man:

“Have you met with disaster that you are back so soon?”

“Not a bit of it, lad. We haven’t wiped out any of John Butler’s wolves, nor even seen one, for the very good reason that they have pulled out of the valley.”

“What?” I cried, in amazement. “Do you mean that they have followed Butler’s trail?”

“As near as we can make out that is exactly what they have done. You lads made it a bit too hot for them last night, and the curs hadn’t the stomachs to wait for another dose. We have an idea that some of them may be hanging around in the hope of doing mischief without risking their skins; but it’s certain the biggest part have left in a hurry.”

Is there any need for me to say that we rejoiced that night—not only we who had passed through all the scenes of horror, but those who had so bravely come to our aid?

After it was possible to settle down soberly, for we were well-nigh crazed with joy as we had been with grief, we held a consultation wherein each member of our company was free to air his opinions, and it was finally decided that we would hold the stockade until it was certain all the savages had gone from the valley. If then—say two or three weeks later—there appeared no good reason why the Minute Boys were needed there, we were of the mind to offer our services as an independent company of the Continental Army, and Captain Franklin promised to lay the matter before the military authorities without delay, for we were determined that when we did enlist it should be with the express stipulation that we remain together rather than be drafted into this company or that.

And now that I am come to an end of what some may claim is no story at all, but a lot of facts pieced not very skilfully together, I am puzzled to know how to stop. It would be a labor of love to tell in detail of all we did from that day when the recruits came to us from Conyngham until the king was glad to make peace, recognizing the United States of America as a new nation which gave promise of becoming one of the world’s great powers; but I fear no one would have the patience to follow the words so long, for we saw much of fighting and adventure.

When there was no longer any need of an army, and we were mustered out of service, I was still the captain of the Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley, while Elias Shendle ranked as first, and Daniel Hinchman as second lieutenant. Giles March was captain of a company from New York and Stephen Morley a major in the Connecticut line.

Master Bartlett was yet alive when, on leaving the army, I went to Tioga to see Esther Hinchman, who had the same as promised to be my wife, and there I met him. Then it was he said to me that which I shall ever remember, and with which it seems fitting I should close my work on this tale of our doings.

“But for the Minute Boys of Wyoming Valley, Jonathan Ogden,” he said to me as Esther and I sat by his side, “very much more blood would have been shed by those human wolves John Butler let loose upon us, and that act of my life in which I take the most pride is the share I had in what was done by your company around Wilkesbarre and Forty Fort.”

THE END.