The Minute Boys of Long Island : $b A story of New York in 1776 as told by Ephraim LyttleOtis, James
History
The Minute Boys of Long Island : $b A story of New York in 1776 as told by Ephraim Lyttle
Otis, James
New York (State) -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Not until Seth Hartley crept through the foliage bent on taking the
chances of being able to attract the attention of Barney Nelson without
exposing himself to the view of the others, did I fully understand
how great was his hazard in this game of life and death which we were
playing.
Even though all the facts could be made known, his commander would
adjudge him a deserter, for there was no question but that he had
remained with us willingly after once having been made prisoner,
instead of insisting upon being treated as a captive, and this in
itself would insure a most shameful death for him in event of our rash
venture going awry.
With this knowledge come upon me thus suddenly, I found it difficult to
prevent myself from calling upon him to return without further effort
to aid Abel Grant, for now it was to me as if he could not escape
detection--as if even the friend in whom he was about to put every
trust, would betray him to death.
If at that moment Luther Stedman had been in my power, I verily believe
I would have murdered him in cold blood, because the miserable Tory
cur was personally responsible for our danger. We had attacked him
only when he came in our way, bent on doing the Cause an injury at
our expense, and to avenge himself for that which he had brought upon
himself, the cowardly whelp had given all his time to the sneaking work
of betraying us to the British.
“If he ever crosses my path again I will deal with him as I would
a vicious cur, giving no heed to my own safety,” I said to myself,
finding some little satisfaction in thus registering an oath of
vengeance, never dreaming how near at hand was the moment when it could
be carried into effect.
It must not be supposed that I gave myself wholly up to such dismal and
vengeful thoughts to the exclusion of everything else. We three lads
were watching with painful intentness everything within our range of
vision, fearing to hear an outcry which would tell that Seth Hartley
had been discovered, and on the alert to give him timely warning of
danger, if indeed that should be possible.
We had spread out before us a most animated picture. As the day grew
older the activity everywhere around us increased. Officers came ashore
from the Good Hope bent on communicating with the commanders of the
land forces, and the boats’ crews awaited their return on the beach,
ready to carry them back to the ship. Squads of ten or a dozen men were
landing at frequent intervals to enjoy a short time of shore leave, and
in our hiding place we were absolutely surrounded by armed men wearing
the uniform of the king.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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