The Little Red Foot - LightNovelsOnl.com
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And so I learned of him that Stevie Watts, disguised, had been that night at Summer House with Lieutenant Hare; that they had brought news to Lady Johnson of Sir John's safe arrival in Canada; that they had met and talked to Claudia Swift; had counted our men and made a very accurate report, which was writ in the military cipher which we discovered, and a copy of which Captain Watts also carried upon his proper person.
I learned that Walter Butler, now a captain of Royalist Rangers, also had come into the Valley in disguise, for the purpose of spying and of raising the Tory settlers against us.
I learned that Brant and Guy Johnson had been in England, but were on their way hither.
I learned that our army in Canada, decimated by battle, by smallpox, by fever, was giving ground and slowly retreating on Crown Point; and that Arnold now commanded them.
I learned that we were to be invaded from the west, the north, and the south by three armies, and thousands of savages; that Albany must burn, and Tryon flame from Schenectady to Saint Sacrement.... And I wrote all down.
"Is there more?" I asked, looking at him with utter loathing.
"Howell's house," he muttered, "the log house of John Howell--tonight----"
"The cabin on the hard ridge yonder?"
"Yes.... A plot to ma.s.sacre this post.... They meet there."
"Who?"
"King's people.... John Howell, Dries Bowman, the Cadys, the Helmers, Girty, Dawling, Gene Grinnis, Balty Weed----"
"_Tonight!_"
"Yes."
"Where are they now?"
"Hid in the tamaracks--in the bush--G.o.d knows where!----"
"When do they rendezvous?"
"Toward midnight."
"At John Howell's cabin?"
He nodded, muttering.
I got up, took him by the arm and jerked him to his feet.
"Read this!" I said, and thrust the paper of cipher writing under his nose.
But he could not, saying that Steve Watts had writ it, and that he was to carry it express to Oswego.
Now, whilst I stood there, striving to think out what was best to do and how most prudently to conduct in the instant necessity confronting me, there came Thiohero's sweet, clear whistle of a Canada sparrow, warning us to look sharp.
Then I heard the snort of a horse and the rattle and b.u.mp of a wagon.
"Tie the prisoner," said I to G.o.dfrey; and turned to see the little maid of Askalege, her rifle shouldered, leading in two horses, behind which rumbled the wagon carrying our pay, food, arms, and clothing sent from Johnstown.
Two armed Continental soldiers sat atop; one, a corporal, driving, t'other on guard.
I spoke to them; called my Indians to unload the wagon, and bade Thiohero sling our kettle and make soupaan for us all.
The Continentals were nothing loth to eat with us. Tahioni had killed some wood-duck and three partridges; and these, with some dozen wild pigeons from the Stacking Ridge, furnished our meat.
I heaped a wooden platter and G.o.dfrey squatted by Captain Moucher to feed him; but the prisoner refused food and sat with head hanging and the s.h.i.+vers shaking him with coward's ague.
When the meal was ended, I took the Continentals aside, gave the Corporal my report to Colonel Dayton, and charged them to deliver my prisoner at Johnstown jail. This they promised to do; and, as all was ready, horses fed, and a long, slow jog to Johnstown, the Corporal climbed to his seat and took the reins, and the other soldier aided my prisoner to mount.
"Will you speak for me at the court martial?" pleaded Moucher, in hoa.r.s.e and dreadful tones. "Remember, sir, as G.o.d sees me, my confession was voluntary, and I swear by my mother's memory that I now see the error and the wickedness of my ways! Say that I said this--in Christ's name----"
The Corporal touched his c.o.c.ked hat, swung his powerful horses. I am sure they were of Sir William's stock and came from the Hall.
"Mr. Drogue!" wailed the doomed wretch, "let G.o.d curse me if I meant any harm----"
I think the soldier beside him must have placed his hand over the poor wretch's mouth, for I heard nothing more except the rattle of wheels and the corporal-driver a-whistling "The Little Red Foot."
In my absence that day my men had erected an open-face hut for our stores.
Here we set lanterns, and here divided the clothing, including the stockings given me by Penelope--which I distributed with a heavy heart.
There was laid aside new buckskin clothing and fresh underwear for Luysnes, for Nick, and for Johnny Silver.
Then I paid the men, and gave a cash bonus to every Indian, and also a new rifle each,--not the trade-gun, but good weapons carrying an ounce ball.
To each, also, a new hatchet, new knife, blanket, leggins, tobacco, paints, razor, mirror, ammunition, and a flask of sweet-smelling oil.
I think I never have seen any Iroquois so overjoyed as were mine. And as for my Saguenay, he instantly squatted by the fire, fixed his mirror on a crotched stick, and fell to adorning himself by the red glow of the coals.
But I had scant leisure for watching them, where they moved about laughing and gossiping excitedly, comparing rifles, trying locks and pans, sorting out finery, or smearing themselves with gaudy symbols.
For, not a hundred rods east of us, across the ridge, stood that log hut of Howell's; and the owl-haunted tamaracks stretched away behind it in a misty wilderness. And in that swampy forest, at this very moment, were hidden desperate men who designed our deaths--men I knew--neighbors at Fonda's Bush, like the Cadys, Helmers, and Dries Bowman!--men who lately served in my militia company, like Balty Weed and Gene Grinnis.
Now, as I paced the fire circle, listening and waiting for Nick and Johnny Silver, I could scarce credit what the wretch, Moucher, had told me, so horrid b.l.o.o.d.y did their enterprise appear to me.
That they should strive to kill us when facing us in proper battle, that I could comprehend. But to plan in the darkness!--to come by stealth in their farmer's clothes to surprise us in our sleep!--faugh!
"My G.o.d," says I to G.o.dfrey, who paced beside me, "why have they not at least embodied to do us such a filthy business? And if they were only a company with some officer to make them respectable--militia, minute men, rangers, anything!"
"They be b.l.o.o.d.y-minded folk," said he grimly. "No coureur-du-bois is harder, craftier, or more heartless than John Howell; no forest runner more merciless than Charlie Cady. These be rough and b.l.o.o.d.y men, John.
And I think we are like to have a rude fight of it before sun-up."
I thought so too, but did not admit as much. I had ten men. They mustered ten--if Moucher's accounts were true. And I did not doubt it, under the circ.u.mstances of his pusillanimous confession.
The River Reed came to me to show me her necklace of coloured gla.s.s. And I drew her aside, told her as much as I cared to, and bade her prepare her Oneidas for a midnight battle.
At that moment I heard the Canada sparrow. Thiohero answered, sweet and clear. A few seconds later Nick and Silver came in, carrying the canoe paddles.