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CHAPTER III
BULLETS AND BAYONETS

By the wagoners who had managed to escape the fate which befell their companions Johnson had been warned of the proximity of the French war party, but he somehow formed a very wrong conception of its strength.

Instead of preparing to meet them with his full force his first plan was to send out two detachments of five hundred men each, one going toward Fort Lyman, and the other toward South Bay, with the object of catching the enemy in their retreat.

But Hendrick, the brave and sagacious chief of the Mohawks, expressed his dissent after the dramatic fashion of his race. Picking up a single stick he broke it easily with his hands. Then picking up several, he put them together and showed that they could not be broken thus.

Johnson was shrewd enough to take the hint, and directed that the two detachments be joined in one. Still the old savage shook his head.

"If they are to be killed," said he, "they are too many. If they are to fight, they are too few."

But the commander would make no further change, and the Indian not only ceased his objections, but mounted on a gun carriage and harangued his warriors, exhorting them to fight bravely for their friends, and to show no mercy to their enemies.

The morning was still young when the thousand men, under the command of Ephraim Williams and Colonel Whiting, marched off from the camp in quest of the French, their orders being to intercept their supposed retreat, and if possible find and destroy their canoes.

Seth Allen was with the vanguard, his pulse beating rapidly, and every nerve a-quiver, for he felt it in his bones that there would be plenty of fighting before the day ended.

"I hope the French will wait for us," he said to Elisha Halley, by whom he was walking. "Maybe if they get warning of our advance they will go back to their canoes and we have nothing to follow them with on the water."

Elisha smiled contemptuously as he replied:

"It all depends upon how many they are and what they know about our strength. If they think they outnumber us they will not fail to wait for us, but if we outnumber them they will retreat fast enough. Nevertheless I think we ought to go forward carefully. They might be lying in ambush somewhere ahead."

The Colonials certainly showed a lack of common sense and utter ignorance of strategy in their advance against the enemy, for no scouts were thrown out in front or flank. They pushed on in full security until the sharp eye of old Hendrick detected a sign of danger.

He at once gave warning, but it was too late. The dense thickets on the left suddenly blazed out a deadly fire, and the English fell by scores. The head of the column, as Dieskau afterward boasted, "was doubled up like a pack of cards." The old Mohawk chief's horse, on which he rode because he was so old and fat, was shot under him, and he himself killed with a bayonet as he tried to gain his feet.

Seth had a wonderful escape. The bullets whistled past him on either side, but left him untouched, and he returned the fire with his own gun as best he could in the midst of the fearful confusion.

Although it was his first experience of battle he felt no qualm of fear. On the contrary, all his nervousness vanished, and thinking only how he might fight to the best advantage, he loaded and fired as rapidly as possible.

Presently the voice of Ephraim Williams was heard calling upon his men to follow him to a piece of rising ground on the right, and Seth obeyed the command.

"We must rally, men, or we will all be destroyed." Williams cried as he led them up the slope.

But he had not reached half-way when there came a volley from the bushes that laid him dead. And it was followed close by a hot fire poured in on the right flank.

Then there was a panic. Many fled outright. The whole column recoiled and began to retreat. Its van became the rear, and all the force of the enemy rushed upon it, shouting and screeching.

Seth found himself entangled in a mob of terrified men who had no other thought than to get out of reach of the deadly fire of their assailants; and, although his spirit rebelled against this ignominious flight, he had no alternative than to take part in it.

Happily after a brief interval of confusion Colonel Whiting succeeded in rallying a part of Williams' regiment; and they, adopting Indian tactics, fighting behind trees, and firing and falling back by turns, were able with the aid of the Mohawks to cover the retreat.

"A very handsome retreat they made," was the testimony of Colonel Pomeroy, "and so continued until they came within about three-quarters of a mile of our camp. This was the last fire our men gave our enemies which killed great numbers of them; and they were seen to drop as pigeons."

In the alternate fighting and falling back Seth took his full share, using the tree trunks for cover as cleverly as any of the Indians, and firing and reloading his musket with all possible speed, yet aiming carefully so that his bullets might not be wasted.

The lust of battle had full possession of him. He utterly forgot himself in the deadly business of the moment, and without a quiver of nerve saw white men and red falling beside him and in front of him mortally smitten.

Again and again the leaden messengers of death passed perilously close to him, but he remained unscathed. As the fierce conflict began to slacken somewhat he observed a Colonial, who had not been quick enough in retreat, stumble and fall headlong, and the next instant a stalwart Indian, hideous with war paint, sprang out from the enemy's line and dashed toward the man tomahawk in hand.

Seth had just fired and there was no time to reload. If he would save his helpless countryman it must be by exposing himself to a like fate. Yet he did not hesitate.

Holding his heavy gun in readiness to use as a club, he sprang from behind the tree-trunk which had sheltered him and rushed into the zone of fire.

His action was redeemed from utter recklessness by the heroic impulse which inspired it, and to the credit of the French be it said that they forebore to fire upon him, leaving it to the Indian to deal with him first, and then accomplish what he had set out to do.

The Iroquois, when he saw the youth coming at him, gave a grunt of contempt and raised his tomahawk menacingly. But Seth kept right on until he had got within striking distance, when whirling his gun around his head he aimed a terrible blow at his opponent.

The latter sprang aside to evade it, and as he did so his foot caught in a hidden root and he fell forward on his knees. Ere he could recover himself the butt of Seth's musket took him in the back of the head, and over he went like a log, the tomahawk flying from his nerveless grasp.

While this was happening, the fallen colonial had got to his feet again and was looking about in a bewildered way, having lost his bearings and not knowing in which direction to continue the flight interrupted by his fall.

"Here, come with me," cried Seth, grasping his arm. "Bend as low as you can and run for your life."

The fellow obeyed instantly and the two of them made all haste back to their own lines, followed by a volley from the enemy which happily, however, did neither of them any harm.

Seth's gallant feat won the admiration of all who beheld it, and the profound gratitude of the man to whom he had rendered such timely succor, and who proved to be from his own province.

When Dieskau saw that the English had really rallied, and were returning the fire of his men with deadly effect, he ordered a halt and had the trumpet sounded to collect his scattered men, with the purpose of pressing forward in good order so as to make the most of the advantage already gained.

Had he been able to do so he could hardly have failed to gain a complete victory over Johnson, but fortunately for the latter, the Iroquois, who had lost many of their braves, became sullen and unmanageable, and the French Canadians, whose veteran leader, Legardeur de St. Pierre, had been killed, showed signs of wavering, and it was not until after considerable delay that the advance was made with the regulars leading the way.

Meantime in Johnson's camp there had been great anxiety and no little confusion. About an hour after Williams had marched out with his thousand men the sound of heavy firing was heard in the distance, and as it grew nearer and louder those in the camp realized that their comrades, instead of pursuing a flying foe, were themselves in retreat.

Johnson at once set about preparations for defence which should have been made long before. A barricade constructed of wagons, inverted bateaux, and tree trunks was hurriedly made along the front of the camp, and three cannons were planted so as to sweep the road, while a fourth was dragged up to the ridge of the hill.

In the midst of this confusion the defeated party began to come in. First, scared fugitives, both white and red; then gangs of men bringing the wounded, and finally the main body marching in good order down the road. Among these was Seth, very much out of humor at having to turn his back on the enemy, and hoping in his heart that they would have the courage to attack the camp.

"If we hadn't been such fools as to walk right into the trap they laid for us," he said to the man he had rescued as they marched together, "we'd not be running from them now, but they'd be running from us, and thinking only how far it was to Crown Point."

"You're just right," emphatically responded the other, whose name was John Wilcox. "There ought to have been scouts ahead of us to give us warning. I don't know what our colonel was thinking about when he let us go on like that, as if there were no French within twenty miles of us."

But of course it is always easy to be wise after the event, and now that the blunder had been committed, and had cost so dearly, it only remained to make the best of what was certainly a very serious situation.

Accordingly five hundred men were detailed to guard the flanks of the camp, while the remainder took up their position behind the wagons, or lay flat behind the logs and upturned bateaux, the Massachusetts men being on the right and the Connecticut men on the left. Not counting the Indians the actual fighting force numbered about seventeen hundred, the majority of them being rustics, who had never been under fire until that morning.

They were hardly settled at their posts when Seth's keen eyes caught the flash of bayonets through the boughs, and a minute later the white-coated regulars of France came into view, marching steadily down the road in serried array. At the same time a terrific burst of war-whoops rose on either side of them, and in the words of Pomeroy to his wife, "the Canadians and Indians helter-skelter, the woods full of them, came running with undaunted courage right clown the hill upon us, expecting to make us flee."

But in this they were greatly mistaken, for although some of the Colonials grew uneasy, their officers, sword in hand, threatened instant death to any who should attempt to leave their posts, and not one of them made a move.

Seth could not help admiring the steadiness shown by the regulars in their advance. Dieskau certainly had them well in hand, but the rest of his force, both red and white, scattered through the woods shouting, whooping, and firing from behind trees.

Well was it indeed for the English that their opponents as a whole did not display the same good discipline as the French, for had they done so the result would have been disastrous; but when only the regulars obeyed orders their attack lost much of its force and gave Captain Eyre, who commanded the artillery, a chance to open upon them with grape, which he did so effectually as to break up their orderly array and compel them to take to cover.

The firing on both sides now became general, and soon waxed so furious that to quote again Pomeroy's graphic words, "The hail stones from heaven were never much thicker than the bullets," yet, as he proudly added, "Blessed be God, that did not in the least daunt or disturb us."

Seth's position was on the right flank, and as Dieskau first directed his attack against the left and centre, he was for a time simply a spectator of the struggle.

But when the commander of the French found he was being so stoutly withstood, he turned his attention to the right and tried to force it.

"Ah, ha!" exclaimed Seth in a tone of satisfaction, "it is our turn now. We will give them all they want."

CHAPTER IV
THE DEFEAT OF DIESKAU

The men from Massachusetts showed no more sign of giving back before the enemy than had their brethren from the sister provinces. Loading and firing as quickly as their old-fashioned muskets allowed, they poured so deadly a fire into the French ranks that the latter could make no material advance, but were compelled to keep behind cover, and return the fire as best they might.

The conflict had continued in this fashion for nearly an hour with considerable loss of life on both sides, but without definite advantage, when Seth, becoming convinced that an officer in rich uniform, whom he could see at the centre of the French line, was their commander, determined to try if he could not shoot him down, as he reasoned that this would put them in a panic.

So, despite the protests of his companions, to whom alone he revealed his design, he crept through the barricade and began to crawl nearer the enemy. It was an extremely dangerous, not to say reckless proceeding, and those of his own party who observed it considered him as good as lost. Colonel Williams indeed shouted after him:

"Come back there, young man, you're going to your death!"

But, carried away by his great purpose, Seth paid no heed to the command. There was a big tree whose wide-spreading roots offered excellent cover about fifty yards ahead of him, and it was for this he was making, as if he reached it unharmed, he could thence get good aim at the officer he had in mind.

Lying flat on his stomach, he wriggled on slowly, yet steadily. It was as difficult work as it was dangerous, and demanded all his young strength. At any moment he might be perceived by an Iroquois or Canadian, who would make a quick dash forward and despatch him as he lay upon the ground. More than once a random bullet struck the turf uncomfortably near him.

Yet with grim determination he kept on, and at last, when nearly spent with the exertion, reached the roots of the big tree, and curled himself up there into the smallest possible space until his nerves should get steady.

Then with the utmost caution he peered out in quest of the officer.

"Good!" he exclaimed exultantly as he quickly withdrew his head. "He's there still, and I'll have him as sure as my name is Seth Allen."

Resting the gun upon the root and taking aim with the utmost care he pulled the trigger.

But just as he did so Baron Dieskau, for Seth had guessed rightly, made a sudden movement, and the bullet went by him harmlessly.

"Botheration!" growled Seth. "Why couldn't he keep still?" and he hastened to reload.

Warned by the whirr of the bullet, Dieskau stepped behind a tree and remained there for some time, while Seth, chagrined at the result of his first shot, impatiently awaited another chance.

It came a little later when the Baron, angered by the persistent disobedience to command of the Indians and Canadians, forgot his own safety and sprang out from cover to give an order to the regulars, who were fast falling into confusion under the well-directed fire of the English.

"Now then, sir," said Seth, as though he were speaking to his intended victim, "I'll have you this time," and he fired.

As the report rang out, Baron Dieskau staggered and fell to the ground, and Seth was for the moment tempted to spring to his feet and wave his cap triumphantly.

But he held himself in check, and again loaded his musket. The officer had fallen indeed, but he might not be killed, and another shot might be necessary to dispose of him. That this was the case presently became clear, for another officer came galloping to the aid of the wounded one, and Seth, moved by his unselfish devotion, forebore to fire.

But some of his companions were not so considerate, and while the adjutant was attending to the wound from Seth's bullet, the unfortunate commander was again hit in the knee and thigh.

The adjutant, who himself had been wounded, then called for the Canadians to carry Baron Dieskau to the rear, but on seeing this Seth exclaimed:

"Oh, no! You're not going to escape. You must be taken prisoner," and fired at one of the Canadians, bringing him to the ground, and causing the other to seek safety in flight.

The commander thereupon ordered the adjutant to leave him where he lay and to lead the regulars in a last effort against the English camp.

But it was now too late. Johnson's men, singly or in small squads, were already leaping over their barricade and falling upon their antagonists with their hatchets and the butts of their guns. The French and their allies alike fled before the fierce onslaught, and their sorely wounded yet dauntless commander was again shot before he fell into the hands of those who, realizing who he was, carried him off to Johnson, who had himself been wounded earlier in the day.

It was late in the afternoon when the final rout took place, and all through that night the shattered French force continued its flight through the forest, reaching their canoes the following day in a deplorable condition, for they had left their knapsacks behind, and were spent with fatigue and famine.

Great were the rejoicings in the English camp. The Colonials felt as proud of themselves as if they had already accomplished all that which they had set out to do, and their commander was so pleased that he was in no hurry to make a further move. He was content to hold his own position, which he proceeded to strengthen by making a solid breastwork around the camp and building a fort on a rising ground by the lake.

But this was just where he erred. He should have followed up his success with the utmost promptitude, and had he done so it is altogether probable that Ticonderoga, if not, indeed, Crown Point, could have been taken from the enemy.

The men from Massachusetts were eager to push on, and Seth, who had by no means got his fill of fighting, would not have hesitated to tell General Johnson in plain language what in his opinion ought to be done, but as the great man was confined to his tent by his wound, and could not even attend the councils of war that were held, leaving them to Colonel Lyman, who was second in command, he had to content himself by speaking out his mind in camp, which he did with decided frankness and force.

Then followed a miserable period of inaction that came near sickening Seth of the whole business. Although reinforcements arrived until by October there were some thirty-six hundred men in the camp, after various prolonged councils it was decided to be unwise to proceed against the French. Yet the little army lay more than a month longer at the lake, while the discontent and disgust of the men increased daily under the rains, frosts, and snows of a dreary November, until at last some of them, throwing off all discipline, went away in squads without any pretence of asking leave.

Seth's companion was one of these, and he strove hard to persuade the young fellow to join him. But Seth resolutely refused.

"No, I'll stay right here," he replied, with a touch of temper in his tone. "And you ought to do the same. We're not done with the French. If we don't go against them, they'll be sure to come back, and then there'll be need of us all."

"Oh! as for that," responded Wilcox, "they'll not be back before spring, and we can get here first easily enough, and be ready to meet them."

But Seth was not to be tempted. He let Wilcox and others go away, and when at last it was decided that the forts should be garrisoned by a certain number of men from each province, and that the rest of the army should be permitted to return to their homes, he promptly offered himself for garrison duty.

It would probably be dull, dreary work, but he preferred it to going back to what had once been his happy home, but now fraught with such harrowing associations, and so he settled down to the monotonous routine of helping to keep guard at the hastily built and by no means impregnable fort.

As the days dragged by almost without incident, Seth again grew restless, and set himself to consider how he might find some diversion. By this time winter had fully set in, and the basin of the lake was covered with ice. Seth was a strong and expert skater, and whiled away many an afternoon speeding over the glassy surface or working out figures upon it.

In this amusement several others of the little garrison joined him, and one in particular, Reuben Thayer, from Connecticut, made the exercise more interesting by rivalling Seth in feats of skill and speed.

These two quite outshone their companions, and this served as a bond of friendship between them, neither being at all jealous of the other's proficiency.

One bright, clear day, when the ice was in superb condition, a daring design flashed into Seth's mind, which he made haste to share with his friend.

"How would you like to take a good long skate, Reuben?" he asked in a significant tone, which caused the other to guess that the question had a purpose behind it.

Reuben gave him a searching glance as he replied:

"That depends. Which way were you thinking of going?"

Seth paused long enough before answering to give special emphasis to his words, although he took care to utter them in a tone of well-feigned carelessness.

"Oh, up north! There's nothing to see at this end of the lake."

A smile of intelligence broke over Reuben's homely countenance. The answer was just what he expected, and he was quite ready to share its spirit.

"How far north might you be thinking of going, Seth?" he inquired.

"Until it seems best to turn back, if we don't want to stay there for good," responded Seth, returning the smile of comprehension.

"Very good. I'm willing to go with you. Shall we ask any of the others to join us?"

"No, Reuben, I think we'd better not. If anything happens, we'll have only ourselves to think about, and none of the rest can skate alongside of us anyway."

In saying this Seth was not making a mere empty boast, for in truth both he and Reuben could easily distance anybody else in the garrison.

So the two friends made it up between them that they would vary the monotony of their lives by undertaking the perilous enterprise of a scout on skates in the direction of Crown Point.

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Veröffentlichungsdatum auf Litres:
02 Mai 2017
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190 S. 1 Illustration
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