United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction; Wyoming Valley (Pa.) -- History -- Juvenile fiction
“Because of your standing guard, we have made ready for whatsoever the
enemy has in store for us, and the watch has been as vigilant as if
regular soldiers were on duty.”
“We count that we ought to be able to do a full share of the work,
and it is only right, since but for us and the children you men could
soon find places of safety other than in this blood-stained valley,”
she said, gravely. “We four will get a full night’s sleep, and you can
reckon on our reporting for duty before sunrise in the morning.”
Then the dear girl leaped lightly down to the ground, and I could not
prevent my eyes from following her as she ran into the blockhouse,
catching up a child in her arms as she went.
We did good duty that night as sentinels, for all save Master Bartlett
had a share of the work. I had insisted that he should get such rest as
was possible before the morrow came, when, what with the refugees and
the savages, we were like to have our hands full.
Nothing was seen or heard to cause alarm or uneasiness during the
night, and when the first gray light of coming day could be seen in the
sky, Esther Hinchman and her companions came out to take our places on
the walls.
“We have had breakfast,” she said, as I handed her my musket, “and have
left food ready for you, so eat as quickly as you can, that those last
on duty may have a chance to sleep until the people from Forty Fort
appear in sight.”
There were none of us who cared for more rest, since each had slept
four or five hours, and when breakfast had been eaten I went in search
of Master Bartlett, who, so some one reported, had gone with Master
Morley to feed the prisoners.
The old man had come to an end of his task when I found him, and was
feeling in good spirits, thanks to his long time of repose.
“The Minute Boys have got together again in fine shape, lad,” he said
to me, “and I am looking to see them give a good account of themselves
from this time out.”
“I pray God we may be able to do so, Master Bartlett; but I want you to
bear well in mind that you are, in fact, the commander who will give
me timely warning when I am careless or overconfident. I know that you
would not hesitate to propose any move which might benefit those whom
we would aid.”
“Don’t fear but that I shall do whatever I may, lad, yet I’m thinking
there’ll be little for me to do in the way of watching you, and said as
much to Stephen Morley when you set your trap yesterday. A lad who has
his wits about him to that extent can be depended upon to look after
his company fairly well.”
It pleased me to be thus praised by a man like Master Bartlett; but
I tried hard not to show my delight, and spoke of this thing or that
until once more Esther Hinchman hailed:
“There is a fleet of canoes coming down the river, and I doubt not but
that those of whom Colonel Dennison spoke are among the company.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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