CHAPTER XII
How I managed to reach the fort, I never knew. I do not remember thatthe savages carried me; I have no recollection of walking. When thegate lanthorn was set that night, a sentry noticed me creeping in theweeds at the moat's edge. He shot at me and gave the alarm.Fortunately, he missed me.
All that evening I lay in a hot sickness on a cot in the casemates.They say I babbled and whimpered till the doctor had finished cuppingme, but after that I rambled little, and, towards sunrise, wassleeping.
My own memories begin with an explosion, which shook my cot andbrought me stumbling blindly out of bed, to find Jack Mount firingthrough a loophole and watching me, while he reloaded, with curioussatisfaction.
He guided me back to my cot, and summoned the regiment's surgeon;between them they bathed me and fed me and got my shirt and leggingson me.
At first I could scarcely make out to stand on my legs. From crown tosole I ached and throbbed; my vision was strangely blurred, so that Isaw things falling in all directions.
I think the regiment's surgeon, who appeared to be very young, waslaying his plans to bleed me again, but I threatened him if he laid afinger on me, and Mount protested that I was fit to fight or feastwith any man in Tryon County.
The surgeon, saying I should lie abed, mixed me a most filthy draught,which I swallowed. Had I been able, I should have chased him into theforest for that dose. As it was, I made towards him on wavering legs,to do him a harm, whereupon he went out hastily, calling me an ass.Mount linked his great arm in mine, and helped me up to the parapet,where the Virginia militia were firing by platoons into the forest.
The freshening morning was lovely and sweet; the west winds pouredinto me like wine. I lay on the platform for a while, peering up atthe flag flapping above me on its pine staff, then raised up on myknees and looked about.
Bands of shadow and sunlight lay across the quiet forests; the calmhills sparkled. But the blackened clearing around the fort was alivewith crawling forms, moving towards the woods, darting from cover tocover, yet always advancing. They were Cresap's Maryland riflemen,reconnoitring the pines along the river, into which the soldiersbeside me on the parapet were showering bullets.
It was pretty to watch these Virginia militia fire by platoon underinstructions of a tall, young captain, who lectured them as jealouslyas though they were training on the parade below.
"Too slow!" he said. "Try it again, lads, smartly! smartly! 'Tention!Handle--cartridge! Too slow, again! As you were--ho! When I say'cartridge!' bring your right hand short 'round to your pouch,slapping it hard; seize the cartridge and bring it with a quick motionto your mouth; bite off the top down to the powder, covering itinstantly with your thumb. Now! 'Tention! Handle--cartridge! Prime!Shut--pan! Charge with cartridge--ho! Draw--rammer! Ram--cartridge!Return--rammer! Shoulder--arms! Front rank--make ready! Takeaim--fire!"
Bang! bang! went the rifles; the parapet swam in smoke. Bang! Thesecond rank fired as one man, and the crash was echoed by the calm,clear voice: "Half-cock arms--ho! Handle--cartridge! Prime!"
And so it went on; volley after volley swept the still pines until athundering report from the brass cannon ended the fusillade, and weleaned out on the epaulement, watching the riflemen who were now closeto the lead-sprayed woods.
The banked cannon-smoke came driving back into our faces; all was achoking blank for a moment. Presently, through the whirling rifts, wecaught glimpses of blue sky and tree-tops, and finally of the earth.But what was that?--what men were those running towards us?--whatmeant that distant crackle of rifles?--those silvery puffs of smokefringing the entire amphitheatre of green, north, east, west--ay, andsouth, too, behind our very backs?
"Down with your drawbridge!" thundered the officer commanding thegun-squad. I saw Cresap come running along the parapet, signallingviolently to the soldiers below at the sallyport. Clank! clank! wentthe chain-pulleys, and the bridge fell with a rush and a hollowreport, raising a cloud of amber dust.
"My God!" shouted an officer. "See the savages!"
"See the riflemen," mimicked Mount, at my elbow. "I told Cresap towait till dark."
Along the parapets the soldiers were firing frenziedly; the quickcannon-shots shook the fort, smothering us with smutty smoke. I had aglimpse, below me, of Cresap leading out a company of soldiers tocover the flight of his riflemen, and at intervals I saw singleIndians, kneeling to fire, then springing forward, yelping andcapering.
A tumult arose below. Back came the riflemen pell-mell, into the fort,followed by the militia company at quick time. The chains and pulleysclanked; the bridge rose, groaning on its hinges.
It was now almost impossible to perceive a single savage, not onlybecause of the rifle-smoke, but also because they had taken cover likequail in a ploughed field. Every charred tree-root sheltered anIndian; the young oats were alive with them; they lay among the wheat,the bean-poles; they crouched behind manure-piles; they crawled in thebeds of ditches.
"Are all the settlers in the fort?" I asked Mount, who was leaningover the epaulement, waiting patiently for a mark.
"Every man, woman, and child came in last night," he said. "If anyhave gone out it's against orders, and their own faults. Ho! Lookyonder, lad! Oh, the devils! the devils!" And he fired, with an oathon his lips.
A house and barn were suddenly buried in a cloud of pitchy vapour; ayoke of oxen ran heavily across a field; puffs of smoke from every rutand gully and bush showed where the Indians were firing at theterrified beasts.
One ox went down, legs shot to pieces; the other stood bellowingpitifully. Then the tragedy darkened; a white man crept out of theburning barn and started running towards the fort.
"The fool!" said Mount. "He went back for his oxen! Oh, the fool!"
I could see him distinctly now; he was a short, fat man, bare-leggedand bare-headed. As he ran he looked back over his shoulderfrequently. Once, when he was climbing a fence, he fell, but got onhis legs again and ran on, limping.
"They've hit him," said Mount, reloading hastily; "look! He's down!He's done for! God! They've got him!"
I turned my head aside; when I looked for the poor fellow again, Icould only see a white patch lying in the field, and an Indianslinking away from it, shaking something at the fort, while thesoldiers shot at him and cursed bitterly at every shot.
"It's Nathan Giles's brother," said a soldier, driving his cartridgedown viciously. "Can't some o' you riflemen reach him with old BrownBess?"
The report of Mount's rifle answered; the Indian staggered, turned torun, reeled off sideways, and fell across a manure-heap. After amoment he rose again and crawled behind it.
And now, house after house burst into black smoke and spouts of flame.Through the spreading haze we caught fleeting glimpses of dark figuresrunning, and our firelocks banged out briskly, but could neitherhinder nor stay the doom of those poor, rough homes. Fire leaped likelightning along the pine walls, twisting in an instant into a columnof pitchy smoke tufted with tongues of flame. Over the whirlingcinders distracted pigeons circled; fowls fluttered out of burningbarns and ran headlong into the woods. Somewhere a frightened cowbellowed.
Under cover of the haze and smoke, unseen, the Indians had advancednear enough to send arrows into the parade below us, where the womenand children and the cattle were packed together. One arrow struck alittle girl in the head, killing her instantly; another buried itselfin the neck of a bull, and a terrible panic followed, women andchildren fleeing to the casemates, while the maddened bull dashedabout, knocking down horses, goring sheep and oxen, trampling throughbundles of household goods until a rifleman shot him through the eyeand cut his throat.
Soldiers and farmers were now hastening to the parapets, carryingbuckets and jars of water, for Cresap feared the sparks from theburning village might fall even here. But there was worse danger thanthat: an arrow, tipped with blazing birch-bark, fell on the parapetbetween me and Mount, and, ere I could pick it up, another whizzedinto the epaulement, setting fire to the lo
gs. Faster and faster fellthe flaming arrows; a farmer and three soldiers were wounded; a littleboy was pierced in his mother's arms. No sooner did we soak out thefire in one spot than down rushed another arrow whistling with flames,and we all ran to extinguish the sparks which the breeze instantlyblew into a glow.
I had forgotten my bruises, my weakness, and fatigue; aches and painsI no longer felt. The excitement cured me as no blood-letting popinjayof a surgeon could, and I found myself nimbly speeding after the fieryarrows and knocking out the sparks with an empty bucket.
Save for the occasional rifle-shots and the timorous whinny of horses,the fort was strangely quiet. If the women and children were weepingin the casemates, we on the ramparts could not hear them. And I do notthink they uttered a complaint. We hurried silently about our work; noofficers shouted; there was small need to urge us, and each man knewwhat to do when an arrow fell.
All at once the fiery shower ceased. A soldier climbed the flag-poleto look out over the smoke, and presently he called down to us thatthe savages were falling back to the forest. Then our cannon began toflash and thunder, and the militia fell in for volley-firing again,while, below, the drawbridge dropped once more, and our riflemen stoleout into the haze.
I was sitting on the parapet, looking at Boyd's inn, "The LeatherBottle," which was on fire, when Mount and Cade Renard came up to me,carrying a sheaf of charred arrows which they had gathered on theparade.
"I just want you to look at these," began Mount, dumping the arrowsinto my lap. "The Weasel, he says you know more about Indians than wedo, and I don't deny it, seeing you lived at Johnstown and seem sofond of the cursed hell-hounds--"
"He wants you to read these arrows," interrupted the Weasel, dryly;"no, not the totem signs. What tribes are they?"
"Cayuga," I replied, wondering. "Cayuga, of course--wait!--why, thisis a Seneca war-arrow!--you can see by the shaft and nock and thequills set inside the fibres!"
"I told you!" observed the Weasel, grimly nudging Mount.
Mount stood silent and serious, watching me picking up arrow afterarrow from the charred sheaf on my knees.
"Here is a Shawanese hunting-shaft," I said, startled, "and--andthis--this is a strange arrow to me!"
I held up a slender, delicate arrow, beautifully made and tipped withsteel.
"That," said Mount, gravely, "is a Delaware arrow."
"The Lenape!" I cried, astonished. Suddenly the terrible significanceof these blackened arrows came to me like a blow. The Lenni-Lenape hadrisen, the Senecas and Shawanese had joined the Cayugas. The LongHouse was in revolt.
"Mount," I said, quietly, "does Colonel Cresap know this?"
The Weasel nodded.
"We abandon the fort to-night," he said. "We can't face the SixNations--here."
"We make for Pittsburg," added Mount. "It will be a job to get thewomen and children through. Cresap wishes to see you, Mr. Cardigan.You will find him laying fuses to the magazine."
They piloted me to the casemates and around the barracks to the angleof the fort, where a stockade barred the passage to the magazine. Thesentry refused us admittance, but Corporal Cloud heard us and openedthe stockade gate, where we saw Cresap on his hands and knees, heapingup loose powder into a long train. He glanced up at us quietly; histhin, grave face was very pale.
"Am I right about those arrows?" he asked Mount.
"Mr. Cardigan says there's a Seneca war-arrow among 'em, too," repliedMount.
Cresap's keen eyes questioned me.
"It's true," I said. "The Senecas guard the western door of the LongHouse, and they have made the Cayugas' cause their own."
"And the eastern door?" demanded Cresap, quickly.
"The eastern door of the Long House is held by our Mohawks and SirWilliam Johnson," I said, proudly. "And, by God's grace! they willhold it in peace."
"Not while Walter Butler lives," said Cresap, bitterly, rising to hisfeet and turning the key of the magazine. "Throw that key into themoat, corporal," he said. "Mount, get some riflemen and roll thesekegs of powder into the casemates."
"You know," he observed, turning to me, "that we abandon the fortto-night. It means the end of all for me. I shall receive all theblame for this war; the disgrace will be laid on me. But let Dunmorebeware if he thinks to deprive me of command over my riflemen! I'vemade them what they are--not for my Lord Dunmore, but for my country,when the call to arms peals out of every steeple from Maine toVirginia."
Cloud lifted his hat. "Please God, those same bells will ring before Idie," he said, serenely.
"They'll ring when the British fleet sights Boston," observed theWeasel.
"They'll ring loud enough for Harrod and Dan Boone to hear 'em on theKentucky," added Mount.
I said nothing, but looked down at the powder trail, which led intothe magazine through a hole under the heavy double door. Cresap pushedthe heap of powder with his foot.
"Ah, well," he said, "it's liberty or death for all save humancattle--liberty or death, sure enough, as the Virginian puts it."
"Patrick Henry is in Pittsburg," began Mount; but Cresap went onwithout heeding him: "Patrick Henry has given my riflemen theirwatchword; and the day that sees them marching north will find thatwatchword lettered on the breast of every hunting-shirt--Liberty orDeath."
Turning his clear eyes on me, he said, "You will be with us, will younot, sir?"
"My father fought at Quebec," I answered, slowly.
"And my father yonder at Fort Pitt, when it was Fort Duquesne, notunder Braddock, but in '58, when the British razed the French worksand built Fortress Pitt on the ruins. What of it? Your father and myfather fought for England. They were Englishmen. Let us, who areAmericans, imitate our fathers by fighting for America. We could dotheir memory no truer honour."
"I have not made up my mind to fight our King," I answered, slowly."But I have determined to fight his deputy, Lord Dunmore."
"And all his agents?" added Mount, promptly.
"You mean Dunmore's?" I asked.
"The King's," said Cloud.
"Yes, the King's, too, if they interfere with my people!" I blurtedout.
"Oh, I think you will march with us when the time comes," said Cresap,with one of his rare smiles; and he led the way out of the stockade,cautioning us to step clear of the powder.
"Cut a time-fuse for the train and bring it to me at the barracks," hesaid to Cloud; and, saluting us thoughtfully, he entered thecasemates, where the women and children were gathered in tearfulsilence.
I heard him tell the poor creatures that their homes had gone up insmoke; that, for the moment, it was necessary to retire to Fort Pitt,and that each family might take only such household implements andextra clothing as they could carry in their arms.
There was not a whimper from the women, only quiet tears. Even thechildren, looking up solemnly at Cresap, bravely stifled the sobs offear that crowded into every little throat.
The day wore away in preparation for the march. I had nothing toprepare; I had lost my rifle and ammunition when a prisoner among theCayugas, and my spare clothing and provisions when Boyd's Inn wasburned. Fortunately, Boyd had buckled on my money-belt for safekeeping, and the honest old man delivered it to me, condoling with mefor the loss of my clothing and food; and never a word of complaintfor his own loss of home and bed and everything he owned in the world,nor would he accept a shilling from me to aid him towards a newbeginning in life.
"I am only seventy-three," he said, coolly; "when these arms of minecannot build me a home, let them fashion my coffin!"
And he picked up his long rifle and walked away to help load theox-teams with powder, ball, and provisions.
One thing that Mount told me aroused my anger and contempt: there wasnow not a Tory left among Cresap's people; all had fled whenGreathouse fled, proving clearly that, if all had not aided in theslaughter of Logan's children, they at least had been informed of theplot and had probably been warned that the murderous deed would belaid at Tory doors.
; Towards dusk our scouts began to come in, one by one, with sad storiesconcerning the outlying settlements and lonely farms. One had seen acharred doorway choked with dead children, all scalped; another, lyinghid, saw a small war-party pass with eighteen fresh scalps, three ofthem taken from women and little girls; a third vowed that the Oneidashad joined in, and he exhibited a moccasin that he had found, asproof. But when I saw the moccasin, I knew it to be Mohawk, and ittroubled me greatly, yet I did not inform Cresap, because I could notbelieve our Mohawks had risen.
At nine o'clock the postern was opened quietly, and the firstdetachment of riflemen left the fort, stealing out into the starlight,weapons at a trail. When the scouts returned to say that the coast wasclear, the column started in perfect silence. First marched a companyof Maryland riflemen; after them filed the ox-teams, loaded with oldwomen and very small children, the wagons rolling on muffled wheels;then followed a company of Virginia militia, and after them came moreox-teams piled with ammunition and stores, and accompanied by youngwomen and grown children. The rear was covered by the bulk of themilitia and riflemen, with our brass cannon dragged by the only horsein the ill-fated town.
When the rear-guard had disappeared in the darkness, Cresap, Mount,Cade Renard, and I bolted the gates, drew up the drawbridge, lockedit, and dropped the keys into the moat. Then Cresap and Mount ranacross the parade towards the magazine, while we tied a knotted ropeto the southern parapet and shook it free so that it hung to the edgeof the counter-scarp below.
Presently Mount came hurrying back across the parade and up the scarpto where we stood, bidding us hasten, for the fuse was afire and mightburn more quickly than we expected.
Down the rope, hand over hand, tumbled the Weasel, and then Mountmotioned me to go. But just as I started, up above my head in thedarkness I heard the flag flapping; I paused, then stepped towards thepole.
"The flag," I said. "You have forgotten it--"
"It's only the damned British flag!" said Mount. "Down the rope withyou, lad! Do you want to keep us till the fort blows up?"
"I can't leave the flag," I said, doggedly.
"To hell with it!" retorted Mount, fiercely, and pushed me towards therope.
"Let me alone!" I flashed out, backing towards the flag-pole.
"Oh, go to the devil your own way," growled Mount, but I saw he didnot leave the rampart while I was lowering the flag and ripping itfrom the halyards.
Cresap came rushing up the scarp as I stuffed the flag into the breastof my hunting-shirt.
"Are you mad?" he cried. "Down the rope there, Cardigan! Follow himfor your life, Jack Mount!"
And down I scrambled, followed by Mount and Cresap, and we all ran asthough the Six Nations were at our heels.
In the dark we passed a rifleman who scampered on ahead to pilot us,and after ten minutes at top speed we joined the rear-guard and fellin with the major, panting.
"A slick trick you played," grunted Mount, "with that bloody Britishflag."
"It was mine, once," I retorted, hotly.
"Oh, you would blow us all up for it, eh?" asked the big fellow,pettishly. "Well, you be damned, and your flag, too!"
His voice was blotted out in a roar which shook the solid forest; acrimson flame shot up to the stars; then thunderous darkness buriedus.
Half-smothered cries and shrieks came from the long convoy ahead, butthese were quickly silenced, the frightened oxen subdued, and thecolumn hastened on into the night.
"Now that the fort's exploded, look out for the Iroquois," said Mount,steadying his voice with an effort.
Cresap had given me a rifle. I halted to load it, then ran on to joinMount and Renard. We plodded on in silence for a while. PresentlyMount asked me what I meant to do in Pittsburg.
"I mean to see Lord Dunmore," I replied, quietly.
Mount pretended to fear for his Lordship's scalp, but I was in nohumour for jesting, and I said no more.
"What are you going to do to old Dunmore?" urged the big fellow,curiously.
"See here, my good man," said I, "you are impertinent. I am anaccredited deputy of Sir William Johnson, and my business is his."
"You need not be so surly," grumbled Mount.
"You've hurt his feelings," observed the Weasel, trotting at my heels.
"Whose? Mount's?" I asked. "Well, I am sorry. I did not mean to hurtyou, Mount."
"That's all very well, but you did," said Mount. "I've got feelings,too, just as much as the Weasel has."
"No, you haven't," said the Weasel, hastily. "I'm a ruined man, andyou know it. Haven't I been through enough to give me sensitivefeelings?"
Mount nudged me. "He's thinking of his wife and baby," he said. "Talkto him about them. He likes it. It harrows him, doesn't it, Cade?"
"It hurts fearful," replied the Weasel, looking up at me hopefully.
"You had a lovely wife, didn't you, Cade?" inquired Mount,sympathetically.
"Yes--oh yes. And a baby girl, Jack--don't forget the baby girl,"sniffed the Weasel, trotting beside me.
"The baby must be nigh fifteen years old now, eh, Cade?" suggestedMount.
"Sixteen, nigh sixteen, Jack. The cunning little thing."
"What became of her?" I asked, gently.
"Nobody knows, nobody knows," murmured the Weasel. "My wife left meand took my baby girl. Some say she went with one of Sir PeterWarren's captains, some say it was an admiral who charmed her. Idon't know. She was gone and the fleet was gone when they told me."
He laid his hard little hand on my arm and looked up with bright eyes.
"Since that," he said, "I've been a little queer in my head. You mayhave noticed it. Oh yes, I've been a little mad, haven't I, Jack?"
"A little," said Mount, tenderly.
"I have not noticed it," said I.
"Oh, but I have," he insisted. "I talk with my baby in the woods;don't I, Jack? And I see her, too," he added, triumphantly. "Thatproves me a little mad; doesn't it, Jack?"
"The Weasel was once a gentleman," said Mount, in my ear. "He had afine mansion near Boston."
"I hear you!" piped the Weasel. "I hear you, Jack. You are quiteright, too. I was a gentleman. I have ridden to hounds, Mr. Cardigan,many a covert I've drawn, many a brush fell to me. I was master offox-hounds, Mr. Cardigan. None rode harder than I. I kept a goodcellar, too, and an open house--ah, yes, an open house, sir. And thatwas where ruin came in, finding the door open--and the fleet in thedowns."
"And you came home and your dear wife had run away with an officerfrom Sir Peter Warren's ships--eh, Cade, old friend?" said Mount,affectionately.
"And took our baby--don't forget the baby, Jack," piped the Weasel.
"And if you could only find the man you'd slit his gullet, wouldn'tyou, Cade?" inquired Mount, dropping one great arm over the Weasel'sshoulder.
"Oh, dear, yes," replied the Weasel, amiably.
I had been looking ahead along the line of wagons, where a lanthornwas glimmering. The convoy had halted, and presently Mount, CadeRenard, and I walked on along the ranks of resting troops and loadedwains until we came to where the light shone on a group of militiaofficers and riflemen. Cresap was there, wrapped in his heavy cloak;and when he perceived me he called me.
As I approached, followed naively by Mount and Renard, I wassurprised to see a tall Indian standing beside Cresap, muffled to thechin in a dark blanket.
"Cardigan," said Cresap, "my scouts found this Indian walking ahead inthe trail all alone. He made no resistance, and they brought him in.He seems to be foolish or simple-minded. I can't make him out. You seehe is unarmed. What is he?"
I glanced at the tall, silent Indian; a glance was enough.
"This man is a Cayuga and a chief," I said, in a low voice.
"Speak to him," said Cresap; "he appears not to understand me. I speakonly Tuscarora, and that badly."
I looked at the silent Cayuga and made the sign of brotherhood. Hisdull eyes regarded me steadily.
"Brother," I said, "by the cinders on your brow y
ou mourn for thedead."
"I mourn," he replied, simply.
"A son?"
"A family. I am Logan."
Shocked, I gazed in pity on the stern, noble visage. So this wasLogan, the wretched man bereft of all his loved ones by Greathouse!
I turned quietly to Cresap.
"This is the great Cayuga chief, Logan, whose children were murdered,"I said.
Cresap turned a troubled face on the mute savage.
"Ask him where he journeys."
"Where do you journey, brother?" I asked, gently.
"I go to Fort Pitt," he answered, without emotion.
"To ask justice?"
"To ask it."
"God grant you justice," I said, gravely.
To Cresap I said, "He seeks justice at Fort Pitt from Lord Dunmore."
"Bid him come with us," replied Cresap, soberly. "He may not getjustice at Fort Pitt, but there is a higher Judge than the Earl ofDunmore. To Him I also look for the justice that men shall deny me onearth."
I took Logan by the hand and led him into a space behind the wagons.Here we waited in silence until the slow convoy moved, and then wefollowed as mourners follow a casket to the grave of all their hopes.
Hour after hour we journeyed unmolested; the stars faded, but it wasnot yet dawn when a far voice cried in the darkness and a light moved,and we knew that the warders of the fortress were hailing our vanguardat the gates of Pittsburg.