The Pilot: A Tale of the SeaCooper, James Fenimore
History
The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea
Cooper, James Fenimore
Historical fiction; Sea stories; United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Naval operations -- Fiction; War stories
“Defend the outworks before retreating to the citadel!” cried
Borroughcliffe; “'tis the game of war, and shows science: but had you
kept closer to your burrow, the rabbits might now have all been frisking
about in that pleasant abode. The eyes of a timid hind were greeted this
morning, while journeying near this wood, with a passing sight of armed
men in strange attire; and as he fled, with an intent of casting himself
into the sea, as fear will sometimes urge one of his kind to do, he
luckily encountered me on the cliffs, who humanely saved his life, by
compelling him to conduct us hither. There is often wisdom in science,
my worthy contemporary in arms; but there is sometimes safety in
ignorance.”
“You have succeeded, sir, and have a right to be pleasant,” said Manual,
seating himself gloomily on a fragment of the ruin, and fastening his
looks on the melancholy spectacle of the lifeless bodies, as they were
successively brought from the vault and placed at his feet; “but these
men have been my own children, and you will excuse me if I cannot retort
your pleasantries. Ah! Captain Borroughcliffe, you are a soldier, and
know how to value merit. I took those very fellows, who sleep on these
stones so quietly, from the hands of nature, and made them the pride
of our art. They were no longer men, but brave lads, who ate and drank,
wheeled and marched, loaded and fired, laughed or were sorrowful, spoke
or were silent, only at my will. As for soul, there was but one among
them all, and that was in my keeping! Groan, my children, groan freely
now; there is no longer a reason to be silent. I have known a single
musket-bullet cut the buttons from the coats of five of them in a
row, without raising the skin of a man! I could ever calculate, with
certainty, how many it would be necessary to expend in all regular
service; but this accursed banditti business has robbed me of the
choicest of my treasures. You stand at ease now, my children; groan, it
will soften your anguish.”
Borroughcliffe appeared to participate, in some degree, in the feelings
of his captive, and he made a few appropriate remarks in the way of
condolence, while he watched the preparations that were making by his
own men to move. At length his orderly announced that substitutes for
barrows were provided to sustain the wounded, and inquired if it were
his pleasure to return to their quarters.
“Who has seen the horse?” demanded the captain; “which way did they
march? Have they gained any tidings of the discovery of this party of
the enemy?”
“Not from us, your honor,” returned the sergeant; “they had ridden
along the coast before we left the cliffs, and it was said their officer
intended to scour the shore for several miles, and spread the alarm.”
“Let him; it is all such gay gallants are good for. Drill, honor is
almost as scarce an article with our arms just now as promotion. We seem
but the degenerate children of the heroes of Poictiers;--you understand
me, sergeant?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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