The Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley Part 16

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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 pa.s.sed,"

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 s.h.i.+rts; 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 circ.u.mstances.

"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."