United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction; Wyoming Valley (Pa.) -- History -- Juvenile fiction
“Except for dividing a party already too small to hold one stockade
comfortably, I believe we might take the fort this night; but even
if it was open for us to walk in, we would have no right to take
possession, because of the fact that, once inside, we might find it
difficult to get out again, and it is as Master Bartlett has just
said--they will soon be needing us at the Wilkesbarre stockade.”
We had hardly more than gained the shadows of the opposite shore when
from around a bend came a canoe in which were three savages, heading as
if to join the fellows we had just routed, and I motioned for those at
the paddles to hold our canoe motionless.
“I’ll take the one in the bow; Giles March shall aim at the second
fellow, and Daniel Hinchman will look after the third,” I whispered.
“One, two, three, fire!”
The three reports rang out like one, and the canoe swung around with
the current, having in it nothing of life, for our aim had been true.
“It is such work as we will continue to do until every wolfish savage
and Tory cur is driven out of the valley!” I said, exultantly, and then
gave the word for both canoes to be put in to the shore.
There could be no question but that those nearabout the fort had heard
the firing, and we might expect some of them would come to learn the
cause. We had no desire for a regular battle on that side of the river,
therefore did I believe it best to get under cover.
By the time we had landed and hauled the canoes out of water at the
foot of a huge oak-tree, where we might be able to find them again
without too much searching, it was possible to hear cries from the
opposite shore, as those who had retreated in such haste called for
their comrades to ferry them across, while near at hand were such
sounds as told that the red villains were disturbed.
“While they are hunting around here for us, we will make our way to
the fort, and then come down upon them once more in the rear,” I said
to my comrades. “If we can double on them two or three times, as when
we began this work, I’m of the mind they will believe themselves
completely surrounded.”
Then, without waiting to hear what they might think of the plan, I
pressed forward in the direction where I knew the fort lay, but taking
good care to get away from the river bank with all speed.
By skulking behind this ruin or that, crawling across the open places,
and running when having gained what would serve as cover, we arrived
in the rear of the fort at about the same time that a large number of
half-naked imps passed out of the big gates, heading toward the river.
Now that we had arrived I was wholly at a loss to decide what it might
be possible to do. I had sufficient sense to understand that it would
be more than foolhardy to venture inside, for even though only a few
remained there, they might be strong enough to hold us in play until
some of those from the river bank could come up, when the capture of
our party would be well-nigh certain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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