Stratemeyer Edward
Marching on Niagara: or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier

"The way's blocked," said the frontiersman at last. "The critters have entirely surrounded the fort. We're out of it, and it looks as if we'd have to stay out."

CHAPTER XII
DARK YEAR OF THE WAR

At the time this story opens George Washington had been on the frontier for nearly two years, with what was little more than a handful of rangers and militia, doing his best to protect a section of country extending through Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia. His headquarters were at Winchester, where the fort was in a good state for defence, but he was frequently away from that place, directing minor operations against the Indians, who, urged by their French allies, were continually attacking isolated settlements.

At this time the future President of our country was still a young man, strong, resolute, and full of the fire of ambition. There was no thought of independence in those days. He was a subject of the King of England, and as a subject willing to do his utmost to sustain British authority in America. He was dearly beloved by all the soldiers under him, but it must be confessed that some of these soldiers were not as willing to remain in the army as was desirable.

The trouble over the soldiers is easily explained. In the first place the settlers objected to doing military duty when called upon to "play second fiddle" to the soldiers brought over from England, and in the second place the pay was poor and uncertain, and the pioneers, much as they wished to defend their frontier and whip the French and Indians, could ill afford to neglect their farms and crops.

"I'd like to enlist again," said one old pioneer to Washington, "But I have a wife and four little children at home, and if I don't care for them they'll have nothing to eat. You know, sir, that I haven't received a dollar of pay for three months." This explanation was typical of many, and while Colonel Washington was sorry to have his men desert him thus, deep down in his heart he could not blame them for wishing to provide for those they dearly loved.

Thus far the conduct of the war with France had been a series of disasters to England's cause, extending over a period of three years. Braddock's bitter defeat, in July, 1755, had been followed by Shirley's abandonment of the plan to take Fort Niagara, and after a bitter battle at Lake George, Sir William Johnson, of whom we shall hear much more later, was forced to give up his hope of pushing on to Crown Point. This closed the fighting for the year, leaving the outlook for the colonies gloomy indeed.

War between France and England was formally declared in May, 1756 – just twenty years before that memorable Revolution which separated the United States from England. The Earl of Loudon was sent out to take command of a new expedition north, but his work in that territory was no more victorious than Johnson's had been, and as a consequence the French commander, General Montcalm, captured Oswego, with all the guns and supplies left there the year previous by Shirley, and in his defeat General Webb, with a large portion of the British troops, had to fall back to Albany.

Early in the following year the English made greater preparations than ever to bring the war to a satisfactory close. Loudon sailed from New York with six thousand men, and was joined at Halifax by Admiral Holborne with a fleet of eleven warships. The object of the expedition was to attack Louisburg, but when the English arrived in the vicinity of that French stronghold they found seventeen of the enemy's warships awaiting them, backed up by heavy land fortifications, and to attack such a force would have been foolhardy; so Loudon returned to New York much dispirited.

In the meantime, Montcalm was not idle. While Loudon was proceeding against Louisburg the great French general came down with a strong force from Crown Point and attacked Fort William Henry. The fort was compelled to surrender, and did so with the understanding that the soldiers be allowed to march out with the honors of war. But the Indians with the French would not agree to this, and upon a given signal they fell with great fury on the English, slaughtering them right and left, butchering not only the soldiers but also about a hundred women and children who had fled to the enclosure for safety. The barracks were battered down and burned, and the cannon, boats, and stores carried away. For these outrageous proceedings Montcalm was held responsible, but he claimed that the Indians could not be controlled.

The effect of so many disasters to British arms in other quarters, could leave but one impression on the minds of the Indians who threatened the frontier which Washington was trying to defend. These warriors came to the conclusion that the English were too weak to defend themselves, and, consequently, they could rush in and kill, burn, and loot to suit themselves. They were well aware that the French still held Fort Duquesne, and that if the English came too far westward (in a chase after the redmen,) the French would rouse up in an effort to drive them back from whence they had come. More than this, there were among the Indians such rascally traders as Jean Bevoir, and these men, in order to further their own interests, told the Indians to go ahead and do as they pleased against the English, and that the French would never interfere, no matter how barbarous was the warfare thus carried on.

At this time the population of Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia was reckoned at about half a million souls, yet from such a number Washington could only obtain two thousand militiamen and rangers, and, as stated before, this number was constantly decreasing, as one after another refused to re-enlist, for reasons already given. The young commander did all in his power to protect the numerous settlements from attacks, but to cover such a wide expanse of territory was, under the circumstances, impossible. The best that could be done was to station parts of the army at various forts and hold the soldiers in readiness to march forth in any direction from whence should come an alarm.

Colonel Washington had been out on a long tour of inspection, and was just settling down for a much needed sleep, when an orderly entered and told him that an Indian messenger had arrived with news.

"Who is the messenger?" questioned the commander, for in those days it was necessary to guard against all possible treachery.

"An under chief named White Buffalo, sir."

Washington knew White Buffalo fairly well, and at once commanded that the chief be brought in. This was done, and the warrior delivered the message written by Captain Tanner with all the ceremony the occasion, to the Indian, seemed to require.

"White Buffalo, my brother, has done well to bring this message so quickly," said Washington. "Fort Lawrence needs help and I shall give all the help in my power. You know much of the Indians who are friendly to the French. How soon will they attack the place, do you think?"

"That White Buffalo cannot tell to his brother Washington," was the chief's answer. "They are eager for plunder and will hold off only so long as they think they are too weak to make the attack. But when they feel strong enough they will rush in, and if they take the fort, White Buffalo is sure the massacre at Fort William Henry will be repeated."

A few words more followed, and Washington hurried forth to notify several of his officers of what was happening at Fort Lawrence. A force of only thirty-six men could be spared from Fort Winchester, and these were placed under the command of Lieutenant Baldwick, an old Indian fighter. With the whites went nine Indians, who, after some little urging, consented to act under White Buffalo, although they belonged to a different tribe. Washington was greatly tempted to take command himself but felt that he would soon be needed in other directions.

The rangers chosen for this expedition were all on horseback, and Lieutenant Baldwick started them off just as soon as they could be gotten together, and the necessary food and ammunition could be distributed. The Indians were on foot, but they were all good runners, and as the trail was a rough one for horses the warriors kept up without great difficulty.

The expedition was yet within sight of Winchester when James Morris came riding into the post, having been on a business trip a mile further eastward. Dave's father met Colonel Washington at the entrance to the stockade and took the liberty to ask what the departure of the soldiers meant.

"They are on the way to Fort Lawrence," was the answer, and Washington told of the message received and of what White Buffalo had had to relate.

"That's bad!" ejaculated James Morris. "Did he say anything of my folks, Colonel?"

"He mentioned your brother Joseph as being with Captain Tanner, but that is all. I sincerely trust your family are in the fort and safe," answered Washington.

Dave's father had wished to see the commander about the purchase of a number of horses needed by the British army, but now the business was forgotten, and without delay the trader dashed off on his steed after Lieutenant Baldwick's command. As soon as he gained the expedition he sought out White Buffalo and asked concerning Dave.

"He is at the fort," said the Indian. "And so is your brother Joseph and his wife and Rodney and little Bright-face," – meaning Nell.

"And what of Henry?"

"He was missing – but he may be at the fort when we get there." And as well as he was able the warrior told of what had happened at Uriah Risley's cabin and afterwards.

Although the expedition moved on as rapidly as possible, it was high noon before half the distance to Fort Lawrence was covered. The mid-day meal was eaten on the march, and the only stop made was one to water the horses. Two white scouts and two Indians went ahead as spies, and half an hour later discovered the camp of four Indians, who had with them one warrior who was suffering with a broken leg. A skirmish ensued, and two of the Indians, including the wounded man, were killed and the others taken prisoners. After that the expedition moved onward with greater vigilance than ever.

It was nearly three o'clock, and the soldiers were still a mile from the fort, when one of the advance guard set up a shout. He had caught sight of two white men creeping along the edge of a ravine to the north of the trail. A halt was ordered and another batch of scouts went forward to learn who the whites could be.

A short game of hide-and-seek now ensued, each side not knowing whether the other was a friend or an enemy. But at last there came a yell of joy from Sam Barringford as he swung his coonskin cap in the air.

"I know you, Dick Hoggerly!" he shouted, to one of the scouts. "Don't let 'em shoot at us. I've got Henry Morris with me."

"Hullo, so it's you, Sam," was the answer. "All right; we ain't shootin' no friends if we kin help it." And then the word was passed around and soon the two wanderers were made welcome, Henry especially so by his Uncle James.

The pair had but little to relate outside of what is already known. They told Lieutenant Baldwick that the Indians surrounded Fort Lawrence completely and that some sort of an attack had already taken place. This was enough to arouse the spirit of even the most sluggish, and once again the expedition moved through the forest, determined to save the fort and its defenders, if such a thing were possible.

CHAPTER XIII
FIGHTING OFF THE INDIANS

"It doesn't look much like an attack now."

It was Dave who spoke, as he leaned against the rocks and gazed sharply out into the forest, beyond the tiny stream of water flowing beside the improvised fort.

"When the redskins come they won't blow a trumpet," replied Rodney, grimly. "The more vicious the attack the more quiet they'll go about it. Isn't that so, father?"

"You're about right, my son," returned Joseph Morris. "I shouldn't be surprised if the Indians are much closer than we think."

"If only we knew where Henry is, and father," said Dave. "Perhaps the redskins have captured them both."

"They won't get your father so easily, Dave," came from Joseph Morris. "They may – "

The pioneer broke off short and suddenly raised his gun. He had seen some war-like feathers floating above a fringe of brushwood between a number of stately walnut trees. He took careful aim and fired.

A yell rent the air and in a trice that cry was echoed by half a hundred others, filling the air with a sudden noise, which no pen can describe. As Dave said, it was truly "a hair raiser," and he felt a quick chill creep down his backbone. That yell told only too well how the Indians were aroused, and what they would do could they but gain the chance.

The report of Joseph Morris's gun was followed by the discharge of Rodney's weapon and then shots from several others. Rodney had seen a warrior running from one tree to another and had brought the Indian down midway between the two. But the fellow was only wounded and he lost no time in crawling to cover.

Spat! spat! A bullet and an arrow hit the rocks directly in front of the Morrises and caused Dave to dodge quickly, although so far there was small danger of being hit. Then came other shots from both sides and for several minutes the air inside and outside the fort was filled with smoke.

"There's a good number of them, that's certain," observed Joseph Morris, as he paused to reload. "I believe every Indian for a hundred and fifty miles around has gathered here. Hark!"

They listened, and from a distance came other yells, gradually circling around in the forest to the other side of the fort. But this ruse did not deceive those within.

"It's an old dodge," observed Joseph Morris. "They want us to look for them on that side while they make a dash on this. See, here they come now!"

"Yes, an' thar's fer 'em!" put in a pioneer standing near. His aim was true and a warrior went down just as he leaped out to cross the stream.

"Good for you, Pasney!" exclaimed Joseph Morris. "Never saw a truer shot in my life. You took him straight in the heart."

"Wall, thet's wot I reckoned on doin'," replied Pasney, coolly. He was an old trapper, and had lived among friendly Indians for years. At rifle practice he had often won prizes for marksmanship.

With four of their warriors either killed or wounded, the Indians retreated for the time being. So far nobody in the fort had been touched, consequently the spirits of all, even of the women folks, revived.

"If we keep this up, we'll soon discourage them," said Captain Tanner. "More than likely they'll hang around until to-morrow and then rush off to loot what they can and get back to their own territory."

"If they do that we ought to follow them," said Dave. "They should be taught a good lesson. Just think of our nice home being burnt to the ground for no reason at all. It's a shame!"

Many of the women and children, as well as some of the men, were very tired, but sleep was out of the question for all old enough to comprehend what was taking place. Even little Nell came out of a nap with a scream and clung closer than ever to her mother's skirt.

"Oh, mamma, what will they do with us?" she asked. "Will they scalp us?"

"Let us hope not, dear," answered Mrs. Morris, soothingly. "I think your papa and the others can keep them off."

Half an hour later came another attack. It was now dark, and only a trained eye could see what was taking place in the blackness of the forest surrounding the fort. To get a better view Pasney climbed one of the trees forming part of the stockade.

Hardly had he gained a favorable position than he uttered a cry of alarm. Then came the whizzing of an arrow through the bare branches in front of him and his body came down with a thud just inside the defence. Several rushed to him and raised him up, but it was too late.

"Shot through the heart!" whispered Dave, as he gazed on the body in horror. "He got just what he gave that redskin a while ago." And he turned away, scarcely able to control his feelings.

Again the war-cry was given and once more the Indians made a rush, this time attacking the fort on two sides. There was a constant discharge of firearms, and arrows came freely into the enclosure, one taking Rodney through the fleshy part of the arm and another grazing Dave's face.

"You are hit, Rodney," cried Dave, as he saw his crippled cousin stagger back.

"Reckon it ain't much," was the answer. "But it was a close call," and then Rodney went to his mother, to have the wound bound up.

The fight had been waging for the best part of an hour when those in the fort saw that the enemy were changing their tactics. Through the air there rushed a dozen or more arrows all carrying with them trails of fire. They went up like so many rockets, to fall in graceful curves directly into the fort. One had a horn of powder attached to it, which, on touching the ground, exploded with great violence. Fire was scattered in all directions and for the moment it looked as if some of the women folks and children would be burnt alive.

Rodney was close to his mother and little Nell when the first shower of burning arrows came down. He saw his mother's skirt go up into a blaze and like a flash tore the burning garment from her. Then he brushed some sparks from little Nell and himself and an old woman standing by.

"They intend to burn us alive!" was the cry, and many of the children began to scream louder than ever.

"Let the women take water and dirt and put out the fire!" ordered Captain Tanner. "Every man is needed at the stockade. They are getting ready for another rush!"

Fortunately all the water possible had been brought into the fort and clothes were soaked in this and used for beating out the flames. It was hard work, and soon the women were as smoke-begrimed as the men. To save the children all their dresses were wet down so that the sparks might have no effect. Where the burning arrows fell among the baggage, and water was not handy, the sod was dug up with spades and pike poles and thrown on as a blanket.

In the meantime what Captain Tanner had said about another attack was true. But this time the Indians were more cautious and they hardly exposed themselves, while waiting for the fire to aid them. When they saw that the blazing arrows had little or no effect they fell back once more, with two warriors wounded, one mortally.

Slowly the night wore away. The loss to the pioneers had been one man killed and several wounded, although none seriously. One woman had been burnt across the neck and one little boy had had an ear scorched.

When day dawned the vigilance at the stockade and the rocks was not relaxed, for all felt that another attack might come at any moment. There was no water in the enclosure, all on hand having been used in fighting fire.

"We've got to get water somehow," said Joseph Morris. "I'm dying for a drink and I reckon all of you are about the same."

"Oh, Joseph, do not expose yourself," pleaded Mrs. Morris. "More than likely the Indians know we want water and they'll watch the brooks closely, to see if they can't catch whoever tries to get it."

This was proved to be the case a few minutes later, when a pioneer named Raymond tried to get a bucket of water. Hardly had he showed himself when two arrows whizzed in that direction, one cutting through his coonskin cap. Raymond dropped his bucket in a hurry and lost no time in regaining shelter.

"I know a way to get water," said Rodney. "Dig a hole down between the rocks and then run a pike pole through that dirt bank. Some of the water in that brook will be sure to flow in this direction."

The suggestion was thought a good one and several started to dig the hole immediately. It was made four feet deep and the pike pole was jammed through the soil at as low a point as possible. At first no water came, but presently a few drops showed themselves and then followed a stream the size of one's little finger.

"Hurrah!" cried Dave. "Rodney's scheme is all right. That hole will keep the water here on a level with that in the stream and we'll have all we wish." And so it proved, much to the satisfaction of all in the fort. To be sure, the water was rather muddy, but even muddy water was much better than none and nobody complained.

"White Buffalo ought to be on his way back," observed Joseph Morris, as he and the boys sat on the rocks, eating the scant morning meal which Captain Tanner had had dealt out.

"Yes, and he ought to have some of Colonel Washington's rangers with him," returned Dave.

"Your father will be with 'em," came from Rodney. "That is, unless he struck out for the house instead."

The talking went on in low voices, for all ears were on guard, waiting for sounds from the forest. Captain Tanner had hoped to get some word from the Indians White Buffalo had left behind, but none of these showed themselves.

An hour later an alarm came from the farther end of the stockade. The Indians were gathering for a solid rush upon that quarter. Soon a yell was heard and again came shots and arrows.

"We are in for it now!" cried Captain Tanner. "Every man must do his duty or we are lost. They are coming on us a couple of hundred stronger!"

He was right, and now the enemy advanced boldly as if encouraged by the mere force of numbers. Several carried notched limbs of trees, to be used as ladders in scaling the stockade.

Shots flew thick and fast and inside of a few minutes two more of the pioneers were wounded and a woman was killed outright. The Indians suffered even a greater loss, but continued to come on until more than a score of them were close to the stockade. In the meantime several of the number ran around to the rocks, thinking the pioneers had deserted this end of the fort.

Joseph Morris, Rodney, Dave, and two others met those at the rocks with a rapid volley which speedily put three of the warriors out of the contest. But more were coming, and in a few minutes our friends found themselves in what was almost a hand-to-hand encounter, only a few rough rocks separating them from the redskins.

Dave had just fired, and was reloading with all speed, when he saw an arrow aimed full at his uncle. He gave a shout of warning, but the cry came too late. Joseph Morris was struck in the breast and went down in a heap. He gave a strange little groan and then lay still.