United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Even while speaking could I hear sounds from the rear of the cabin as if
the soldiers were piling up timbers, or something of that sort, to make
their way to the roof, and although it was borne in upon me clearly that
within a few seconds most like I would be struggling hand to hand with
men who had been trained in the art of warfare, yet I set it down as
true that never did there come into my heart the slightest idea of
wavering or of fear. Yet that may not be put to my credit, for, as I
said before, the fever of battle had seized upon me, and I burned to see
the first red-coated scoundrel show himself at the aperture in the roof
that I might send a bullet into his worthless carcass.
Suddenly, and so far as I could judge, before those in the rear had been
able to gain a position on the roof, fire was opened upon us from the
front, and on the instant it was returned by our lads with such spirit
that at once dense clouds of smoke from burning powder came up through
the scuttle, parching my throat, and rendering it difficult for me to
keep my eyes free from the blinding tears of irritation which filled
them.
I was yet saying to myself that the Britishers had not succeeded in
gaining a foothold upon the roof, when suddenly I saw the muzzle of a
musket through the crevices of the logs, where as yet the timbers
remained intact, and immediately came the report of a weapon as a bullet
whistled past my cheek, cutting the lightest furrow in the skin, and
causing the blood to flow as if I had been grievously wounded.
I had yet sufficient of sense remaining to understand that by staying
longer in the loft, if they were counting on shooting at me through the
crevices of the logs, I would sacrifice my life without being able to
make any reprisals, and, stopping only long enough to fire in the
direction where I had seen the musket, I dropped to the floor below,
explaining hurriedly to Pierre why I had seemingly retreated.
"It is all over with us," the dear lad said, and would have examined the
wound on my face. "No less than a dozen more men have come from the
redoubt, and we can only sell our lives as dearly as possible."
Then it was the fever of battle so far left me that there was room in my
heart for fear, and while taking my stand by the side of the other lads,
believing firmly that within the next few minutes I should be dead or
wounded unto death, I contrived to hold command over my knees so no one
might see I had again grown cowardly.
Then it was, when all of us were, as you might say, resigned to death,
that we suddenly heard the parley sounded by drums all along the lines,
and straightway those red-coats who were facing us, counting to hound us
to death, wheeled about, making for the redoubt, while we stood looking
at each other in bewilderment, until Pierre shouted at the full strength
of his lungs:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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