The Little Red FootChambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
History
The Little Red Foot
Chambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
New York (State) -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
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 bloody 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 God," says I to Godfrey, 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 bloody-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 bloody 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 circumstances of his pusillanimous confession.
The River Reed came to me to show me her necklace of coloured glass. 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.
"They've gone," said Nick, with an oath. "Two mounted men and a led
horse rode toward Johnstown two hours since. They wore Canajoharie
regimentals. Major Westfall sent a dozen riders after 'em; but men who
came so boldly to spy us out are like to get away as boldly, too."
He plucked my arm and I stepped apart with him.
"Westfall's in his dotage; Dayton is too slow. Why don't they send up
Willett or Herkimer?"
"I don't know," said I, troubled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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