The Scouts of the Valley [63]
time to beg 'em to take us back."
"I reckon I ain't goin' to stay 'roun' here while things are bein' surrendered," said Long Jim Hart.
"I'll do my surrenderin' to Iroquois when they've got my hands an' feet tied, an' six or seven uv 'em are settin' on my back," said Tom Ross.
"We'll leave as soon as we can get arms for Sol and Paul," said Henry. "Of course it would be foolish of us to stay here and be captured again. Besides, we'll be needed badly enough by the women and children that are going."
Good weapons were easily obtained in the fort. It was far better to let Sol and Paul have them than to leave them for the Indians. They were able to select two fine rifles of the Kentucky pattern, long and slender barreled, a tomahawk and knife for each, and also excellent double-barreled pistols. The other three now had double-barreled pistols, too. In addition they resupplied themselves with as much ammunition as scouts and hunters could conveniently carry, and toward morning left the fort.
Sunrise found them some distance from the palisades, and upon the flank of a frightened crowd of fugitives. It was composed of one hundred women and children and a single man, James Carpenter, who was doing his best to guide and protect them. They were intending to flee through the wilderness to the Delaware and Lehigh settlements, chiefly Fort Penn, built by Jacob Stroud, where Stroudsburg now is.
When the five, darkened by weather and looking almost like Indians themselves, approached, Carpenter stepped forward and raised his rifle. A cry of dismay rose from the melancholy line, a cry so intensely bitter that it cut Henry to the very heart. He threw up his hand, and exclaimed in a loud voice:
"We are friends, not Indians or Tories! We fought with you yesterday, and we are ready to fight for you now!"
Carpenter dropped the muzzle of the rifle. He had fought in the battle, too, and he recognized the great youth and his comrades who had been there with him.
"What do you want of us?" asked he.
"Nothing," replied Henry, "except to help you."
Carpenter looked at them with a kind of sad pathos.
"You don't belong here in Wyoming," he said, "and there's nothing to make you stick to us. What are you meaning to do?"
"We will go with you wherever you intend to go," replied Henry; "do fighting for you if you need it, and hunt game for you, which you are certain to need."
The weather-beaten face of the farmer worked.
"I thought God had clean deserted us," he said, "but I'm ready to take it back. I reckon that he has sent you five to help me with all these women and little ones."
It occurred to Henry that perhaps God, indeed, had sent them for this very purpose, but he replied simply:
"You lead on, and we'll stay in the rear and on the sides to watch for the Indians. Draw into the woods, where we'll be hidden."
Carpenter, obscure hero, shouldered his rifle again, and led on toward the woods. The long line of women and children followed. Some of the women carried in their arms children too small to walk. Yet they were more hopeful now when they saw that the five were friends. These lithe, active frontiersmen, so quick, so skillful, and so helpful, raised their courage. Yet it was a most doleful flight. Most of these women had been made widows the day before, some of them had been made widows and childless at the same time, and wondered why they should seek to live longer. But the very mental stupor of many of them was an aid. They ceased to cry out, and some even ceased to be afraid.
Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Tom dropped to the rear. Paul and Long Jim were on either flank, while Carpenter led slowly on toward the mountains.
"'Pears to me," said Tom, "that the thing fur us to do is to hurry 'em up ez much ez possible."
"So the Indians won't see 'em crossing the plain," said Henry. "We couldn't defend them against a large force, and it would merely be a massacre. We must persuade them to walk faster."
Shif'less Sol was invaluable in this crisis. He could talk forever
"I reckon I ain't goin' to stay 'roun' here while things are bein' surrendered," said Long Jim Hart.
"I'll do my surrenderin' to Iroquois when they've got my hands an' feet tied, an' six or seven uv 'em are settin' on my back," said Tom Ross.
"We'll leave as soon as we can get arms for Sol and Paul," said Henry. "Of course it would be foolish of us to stay here and be captured again. Besides, we'll be needed badly enough by the women and children that are going."
Good weapons were easily obtained in the fort. It was far better to let Sol and Paul have them than to leave them for the Indians. They were able to select two fine rifles of the Kentucky pattern, long and slender barreled, a tomahawk and knife for each, and also excellent double-barreled pistols. The other three now had double-barreled pistols, too. In addition they resupplied themselves with as much ammunition as scouts and hunters could conveniently carry, and toward morning left the fort.
Sunrise found them some distance from the palisades, and upon the flank of a frightened crowd of fugitives. It was composed of one hundred women and children and a single man, James Carpenter, who was doing his best to guide and protect them. They were intending to flee through the wilderness to the Delaware and Lehigh settlements, chiefly Fort Penn, built by Jacob Stroud, where Stroudsburg now is.
When the five, darkened by weather and looking almost like Indians themselves, approached, Carpenter stepped forward and raised his rifle. A cry of dismay rose from the melancholy line, a cry so intensely bitter that it cut Henry to the very heart. He threw up his hand, and exclaimed in a loud voice:
"We are friends, not Indians or Tories! We fought with you yesterday, and we are ready to fight for you now!"
Carpenter dropped the muzzle of the rifle. He had fought in the battle, too, and he recognized the great youth and his comrades who had been there with him.
"What do you want of us?" asked he.
"Nothing," replied Henry, "except to help you."
Carpenter looked at them with a kind of sad pathos.
"You don't belong here in Wyoming," he said, "and there's nothing to make you stick to us. What are you meaning to do?"
"We will go with you wherever you intend to go," replied Henry; "do fighting for you if you need it, and hunt game for you, which you are certain to need."
The weather-beaten face of the farmer worked.
"I thought God had clean deserted us," he said, "but I'm ready to take it back. I reckon that he has sent you five to help me with all these women and little ones."
It occurred to Henry that perhaps God, indeed, had sent them for this very purpose, but he replied simply:
"You lead on, and we'll stay in the rear and on the sides to watch for the Indians. Draw into the woods, where we'll be hidden."
Carpenter, obscure hero, shouldered his rifle again, and led on toward the woods. The long line of women and children followed. Some of the women carried in their arms children too small to walk. Yet they were more hopeful now when they saw that the five were friends. These lithe, active frontiersmen, so quick, so skillful, and so helpful, raised their courage. Yet it was a most doleful flight. Most of these women had been made widows the day before, some of them had been made widows and childless at the same time, and wondered why they should seek to live longer. But the very mental stupor of many of them was an aid. They ceased to cry out, and some even ceased to be afraid.
Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Tom dropped to the rear. Paul and Long Jim were on either flank, while Carpenter led slowly on toward the mountains.
"'Pears to me," said Tom, "that the thing fur us to do is to hurry 'em up ez much ez possible."
"So the Indians won't see 'em crossing the plain," said Henry. "We couldn't defend them against a large force, and it would merely be a massacre. We must persuade them to walk faster."
Shif'less Sol was invaluable in this crisis. He could talk forever