United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Having thus restored Uncle 'Rasmus to hopefulness and courage, Pierre
announced, as if there could be no question of any protest from me, that
we would make our way to where the Rangers were quartered, and I obeyed
him, much as a child might have done, mentally clinging to the lad as if
he had been my elder.
We two walked around the village as if having no other purpose than to
view a military encampment. We gaped here, or stood there in
open-mouthed astonishment, as if mightily impressed with everything we
saw, and while doing so Pierre would whisper now and then as we passed
this redoubt or that battery:
"Have you got everything well in mind now, lad? Seven redoubts and six
batteries on the land side; a line of batteries on the river bank; the
grand battery near the church; three redoubts just at the ravine, one
near the road to Hampton, and two by the river."
Thus it was he called my attention to each point where the Britishers
were working, although in some cases it would have been impossible for
me to have said whether they were building redoubts, throwing up
earthworks for a battery, or simply digging a canal. It appeared that
little Frenchie understood all their purpose, and I said to myself that
if so be he could make his way from out this town of York into the
American lines, of a verity he would be able to give General Lafayette
such information as would be of exceeding value.
We saw Silver Heels. She was made fast to the stable line with a lot of
other horses, and, so far as I could see, was receiving even more
attention than if she had been at home on the plantation, for there were
a dozen men or more working all the time currying this horse, rubbing
that one down, bandaging a leg that showed signs of swelling, and in
many ways taking as good care of the steeds as the best jockeys in
Virginia could have done.
"You see she hasn't fallen into such bad hands," Pierre said as we
passed for the third time where I could have a good view of my pet, and
I replied sorrowfully:
"It isn't that she won't be taken care of, Pierre, for he into whose
hands she might fall would indeed be a fool if he neglected so valuable
a bit of horse-flesh; but it is the thought that she will be taken into
battle, wounded, and left on the field to die, that breaks my heart."
"And yet many a poor fellow will be wounded on the field of battle, and
left there to die. Mayhap it will be the fate of you or of me, and since
Silver Heels has been reared by a rebel, she must take the same chances
that all us rebels in this country are forced to take if the yoke of the
king's oppression is to be removed from our necks."
Little Frenchie spoke like a preacher, and I dimly wondered whether his
courage might not be failing him, now that we were fully committed to as
desperate a venture as ever lads embarked on; but I need have had no
forebodings, for after remaining silent a dozen seconds or more he
seemingly shook off somber thoughts, and said cheerily:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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