Marching on Niagara/Chapter 25
CHAPTER XXV
A STORM ON LAKE ONTARIO
When the soldiers under General Prideaux reached Oswego they found the fort in ruins. Three years before the French and Indians under Montcalm had won a victory there and before leaving had burnt up and otherwise destroyed every building, large and small, and also every ship in the harbor, and had taken away all the guns and ammunition and a large part of the possessions of the settlers in that vicinity. On every side were heaps of ashes and charred logs, some overgrown with weeds, and in the midst of these stood a huge wooden cross, erected by Piquet, the French priest, and on a tall pole hung the tattered arms of France. The scene was one of unutterable loneliness and desolation, and it must be confessed that something like a shiver went over Dave as he gazed upon it.
"This shows what war will do," he said, to a comrade standing near. "Think of how prosperous a trading post Oswego was three years ago, and now look at this. Why even a wild animal would shun the spot—after those skeletons were picked clean."
"True for you, lad," was the answer. "But I don't think it will be that way again. General Prideaux means business, and so does General Johnson, and the French will have to do some tall fighting to win out now."
The first of the soldiers arrived on the site of Oswego about the middle of June, and it was only a few days later the remainder of the army came up from Lake Oneida bringing the stores and baggage, including a great many barrels of pork, which in those days formed a staple article of soldiers' diet. Dave was anxious to see Henry and Barringford again, and when the last of the soldiers came up and went into camp not far from the lake and the river, he hurried in that direction as soon as he was off duty.
"Oh, Sam!" he cried, when he caught sight of the old frontiersman and saw the serious look on his face. "Where's Henry?"
"I can't tell you, Dave."
"Can't tell?"
"No, lad. After we went ashore at Lake Oneida he disappeared like as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up."
"But—but didn't you look for him?"
"Dave you oughter know better nor to ask sech a question. Look? Why, I tramped miles an' miles a-looking fer him,—an' fer them Injuns. But the redskins got away, and we couldn't find Henry, alive or dead."
"Then they must have taken him prisoner."
"Thet's it, unless"
"Unless what, Sam?"
"Wall, I don't like to say, lad. Let us hope fer the best."
"You mean they might have killed him and thrown his body into the lake?"
"Yes."
Dave drew a long breath. The thought was a horrible one. He shook his head dismally.
"You didn't hear any shots, or any struggling?"
"Nary a sound, Dave. We went along as silently as ghosts and with our ears wide open. I know Henry was along when we moved up the lake, but I missed him jest as soon as we turned to come back. He had been next to the lake front and I walked over to find out if he had seen anything of the Injuns. But he was gone—and that was the end of it—although I and the others hunted around until we simply had to give it up and come back to report."
It was dismal news, and all Barringford could do did not cheer Dave up. "First it was little Nell and now it's Henry," he said, soberly. "If neither of them return what will Aunt Lucy say?"
As soon as the army was settled at Oswego General Prideaux had all of the batteaux and other boats made ready for the trip along the lake shore to Fort Niagara, a distance of about a hundred and thirty miles. In the meantime Colonel Haldimand was placed in charge of the garrison to be left at Oswego, with orders to rebuild the fort, and otherwise strengthen the place, as speedily as possible. Haldimand, who during the Revolution became Governor of Canada, was an able and energetic officer, and went about the work assigned to him without delay. Soon the ring of the axe was heard in the forest and the big timbers for the new fort were being brought out as fast as the pioneer-soldiers could handle them.
Prideaux had expected to embark for Niagara within a few days after reaching Oswego where he was joined by Johnson with his seven hundred Indians, but numerous delays occurred and it was not until the first of July that his novel flotilla of boats, batteaux, and canoes set sail westward over the mighty waters of Lake Ontario. All the time that the army was at Oswego a sharp lookout was kept for the possible appearance of French ships of war, or of transports carrying French troops, but none came in sight.
"Not a sail in sight anywhere," said Dave to Schnitzer one day, when the two were at the beach. "If the French are near they are keeping themselves well hidden."
"Maybe da vos vaiting for a chanct to cotch us nabbing," answered the Dutch soldier. "Dose Frenchers peen mighty schmart let me tole you. Of da don't vos schmart den dis var vouldn't peen so long vinded, hey?"
"Oh, they know what they are doing, no doubt of that. I wouldn't be surprised if they attacked Colonel Haldimand after we go away."
"Yah, dot is it, Tave—da vaits bis ve peen sphlit by two bieces und den da fights first one bard und den der udder bard—und've peen licked our poots out, hey—maybe—of da peen schmart enough." And Hans Schnitzer nodded his shaggy head vigorously.
Dave had been wondering if he would be ordered to remain behind with those left at Oswego or if he was to go forward to Fort Niagara. He half wished he would be told to remain behind, that he might have a chance to go in search of Henry.
But this was not to be, and a few days later came word that the company to which he belonged would go forward under General Prideaux.
"But I'm a-going to be left behind," said Sam Barringford. "I've got orders to take charge o' the sharpshooters as is going to watch out here while Colonel Haldimand rebuilds the old fort."
"Oh Sam, if you stay behind, won't you keep an eye open for Henry? "
"To be sure I will, lad—thought o' thet myself."
"Do you think those Indians are still sneaking around?"
"More'n likely not, Dave. Not if they war French spies. They've gone across the lake to give warning of our coming."
"If they had Henry a prisoner they would take him along."
"Yes,—or worse."
Dave shook his head sadly, and went about his work, which was to see to the loading of two batteaux, that were piled high with utensils belonging to the culinary department of the army—for soldiers, like ordinary mortals, must eat and if they are not served properly there is apt to be a good deal of grumbling.
One day later the army was off, in a long string of batteaux and other craft stretching out a distance of over a mile. It was truly an imposing sight, for the leading batteau was flying the flag of England, and other banners were by no means lacking. There was music, too, to lighten up the hearts of the soldiers, and ringing cheers for good luck to the enterprise.
It was General Prideaux's plan to hug the shore of the lake, consequently the trip would be a little longer than if they sailed in a direct line from Oswego to what is now the coast town of Carlton. The reason for hugging the shore was, that the French might swoop down upon the flotilla at any moment when out of sight of land, whereas, if the English kept close to shore, they could at any moment turn into one of the numerous bays or creeks, and there hide or throw up a temporary defense.
The southern shore of Lake Ontario is to-day dotted with villages and towns, but when General Prideaux's army sailed along this coast it showed an almost unbroken front of gigantic timber, rough rocks and stretches of sandy waste. Here and there was an Indian village, but the warriors were away, either with the French or the English.
Much to Dave's disgust Lieutenant Naster was placed in charge of the batteau, which contained besides Dave several soldiers who were hardly known to our young soldier. When Naster saw Dave, he scowled but said nothing.
"He has it in for me, that's certain," thought Dave. "I'll have to keep my eyes wide open."
"I want none of your laziness," said the lieutenant, to Dave, an hour later, and when all hands were resting on the oars. "I see you are not pulling as well as the others, and it won't do."
"I thought I was doing my full share," answered Dave.
"Hi don't answer back, boy! Do as I tell you!"
In a few minutes the rowing was resumed. One of the soldiers, unnoticed by the lieutenant, winked at Dave.
"He's a regular bear," he whispered. "Look out, or he'll make trouble for you."
"He's tried to make trouble for me before," answered Dave, in an equally low tone. "He doesn't like me because I stood up for old Campwell when he was browbeating the man."
"Oh, so you were the soldier who interfered, eh? I heard of that case. They say"
"Silence over here, and attend to your rowing!" shouted the lieutenant from his comfortable seat in the stern. "Don't you see how we are lagging behind? Pull up there, all of you, or somebody will get the lash to-night, instead of his supper."
After that but little was said, and the rowing continued steadily until noon, when a brief halt was made for dinner. The lake was almost like glass, so that while some of the batteaux drifted together, no damage was done.
"If I know anything about it, this weather won't last," said one of the soldiers, after a careful survey of the sky.
"It looks like a storm to me, too," said Dave. "But it may blow around before it reaches here."
Yet the day passed without the storm coming, and that night the occupants of the batteaux slept soundly on the shore of a tiny bay opening up from the lake. At sunrise the army was again in motion and once again the flotilla continued its journey westward.
Several soldiers who had been taken sick on the march to Oswego had been left behind, but now others were overcome by the heat and the glare of the sun on the water, and one batteau had to be turned into a floating hospital. At one time Dave himself felt dizzy, but he said nothing, for he well knew that Lieutenant Naster would have no mercy on him, sick or well.
The sun had come up over the water like a great ball of fire and by nine o'clock the day promised to prove more than usually hot. But an hour later the clouds began to show up in the west and it became rapidly cooler.
"We're in for that storm now," said a soldier to Dave. "See how the wind is rising."
"Yes, and we are pretty far out from land now, too," added Dave. "I reckon we ought to turn in."
One of the soldiers appealed to the lieutenant, but he would not listen to advice. "Straight ahead," he roared. "You only want to go in that you may rest. We have no time to fool away. A little rain won't hurt anybody."
The wind rapidly increased in violence, and soon the black clouds overshadowed the sun, making the surface of the lake dark and ominous looking. Then came a gust that whirled the batteau around in spite of all the rowers could do to keep the craft up to the wind. The waves dashed up, drenching everybody.
"Oh!" cried Lieutenant Naster, for he had received some of the water full in the face. "Steady there, you fools! Don't let her swing around!"
"If we don't pull to shore we'll be swamped!" cried one of the soldiers. "I was a sailor for six years and I know this is going to be a big blow. Give the order, lieutenant, unless ye want to see bottom putty quick."
At these words Lieutenant Naster turned pale.
"Very well, turn about and pull for the shore," he said. "And don't lose time," he added, as he saw the white caps chasing madly toward them.
With much difficulty the clumsy batteau was swung around and the journey shoreward began. But valuable time had been lost, and now the rain 
"Bail her out," roared the lieutenant.—Page 237.
As much for his own safety as for the others, Dave bent to his oar with a will, pulling with might and main. The sight of land was now shut out and the task was therefore a blind one. On they went, the wind blowing the waves into the batteau until the craft was speedily in danger of becoming waterlogged.
"Bail her out!" roared the lieutenant, who was now as much alarmed as anyone. "Bail her out, or we'll go to the bottom!"
"Bail her out yourself;" came a voice from the front of the craft. "None of us can leave the oars. Pull away, boys,—it's our only chance!"
It was the man who had been a sailor who spoke, and all the other soldiers obeyed him, leaving the lieutenant to take up an iron dipper and begin the bailing as best he could.
A moment later came a wild cry from beyond the batteau. "Look out, you are running into us! Back water!" The cry was followed by a thump and a crash and half a dozen yells of pain, and then ensued a wild scramble for safety, for two of the batteaux had come together with such force that the bottom of each was broken away on one side, letting in the lake water with a rush.
When the collision came Dave was thrown over backward, into the lap of the soldier who had once been a sailor. Each clutched the other, and both struggled to their feet wondering what would happen next. Then the batteau began to settle and in a moment more Dave found himself struggling in the waters of Lake Ontario.