With Perry on Lake Erie : $b a tale of 1812Otis, James
History
With Perry on Lake Erie : $b a tale of 1812
Otis, James
United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Juvenile fiction
Crouching as one does who plays at leap-frog, I rested my hands upon
the logs forming the outer side of the pen, to hold myself steady, and
Alec stood upon my back.
In this position he was forced to bend nearly double, and I saw at once
that could I hold him up when he straightened his body, something must
perforce give way.
“Are you ready?” he asked in a whisper, and I, mentally bracing myself
for the effort, replied:--
“Do your best; but quickly, lest I fail to hold this position.”
Alec Perry is a slightly built lad, and to look at him one would say
his strength was hardly more than that of a woman, yet I soon found
that it was far in excess of what his frame indicated.
For an instant it seemed as if the weight of a ton was pressing upon
my bent back, and then I heard a dull, muffled sound, as if some heavy
body had fallen into the snow on the outside.
The strain upon me was lessened wonderfully, and my heart leaped with
joy and gratitude as the dear boy whispered excitedly:--
“We have thrown off the top log, Dicky Dobbins, and unless there be a
sentinel outside who has heard the timber fall, we shall be free from
this pen as soon as you are minded to make the venture.”
He leaped down from my back, and, grasping both his hands to show my
gratitude for his gallant and wondrous effort, for it was wondrous in
view of his slight body, I replied:--
“We’ll count thirty, Alec, and if by that time no alarm is given, it
is for us to make good an escape, taking the chances of losing our way
in the driving snow upon the ice, rather than remain here; for now has
come the time when we may save Presque Isle from falling into the hands
of the enemy.”
CHAPTER III.
THE ESCAPE.
How it may have been with Alec Perry while we stood inside that pen,
listening eagerly, and yet fearing lest we might hear something, I know
not. As for myself, it was as if the blood in my veins was at boiling
point, and I could hardly breathe because of the sense of suffocation
which had come upon me.
At first I began to count as rapidly as it was possible to speak the
figures in my thoughts, and then came the knowledge that by hastening
the time ever so little I might be destroying our chances for escape.
In case the fall of the timber had been heard, and one of the soldiers
came out to learn the cause of the noise, it was possible he would fail
to observe what had been done, for the snow was so light that the log
must be concealed from view in its frosty bed.
I say again, it was possible, even probable, that one or more of the
Britishers might come out and yet fail to detect what we had done;
but if Alec and I should begin the attempt a few moments too soon,
all would be lost. Better waste half the night than try to gain sixty
seconds of time, and in the doing cut ourselves off from all hope of
gaining liberty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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