Marching on Niagara/Chapter 26
CHAPTER XXVI
THE ATTACK AT OSWEGO
"I wonder when this will end?"
Such was the question which Henry asked himself, after he had been a prisoner of the Indians for a week and more.
The warriors had marched him to the eastern shore of the lake, and here he had been left in charge of two young warriors while the balance of the party had taken canoes and disappeared in the direction of Frontenac.
The days had passed slowly. The warriors had found something of a cave fronting the lake shore and Henry had been placed in this. His hands were bound behind him almost constantly, they being released only when he was eating or when both of his captors were at hand with their guns to watch him.
The young soldier often wondered what had become of Sam Barringford and the others who had been in the party that had landed on the shore of Lake Oneida. Had they too been captured and carried off, or had they been killed?
"Sam ought to have been able to follow their trail," he reasoned. He did not know that the trail had been followed as far as the stream where the Indians had first brought forth their hidden canoes.
In the meantime the Indians had gone to Saint Luc de la Corne and explained the situation to him. The French commander at once gathered together twelve hundred men, consisting of Canadian pioneers and Indians, and set out to do the English battle. He felt that a force would be left behind at Oswego and this he determined to annihilate as soon as General Prideaux had gone on with the main portion of the English army.
The coming of over a hundred Indians to the camp on the lake front surprised Henry and he wondered what was in the wind. But he soon found out, for several of the newcomers could talk English and they did not hesitate to speak of the contemplated attack on Colonel Haldimand's command, and of their high hopes of again laying Fort Oswego in ashes and scalping all who should remain to defend it.
After hearing this talk Henry burnt with a desire to obtain his freedom and warn Haldimand of what was coming. For this purpose he resorted to a ruse which worked better than he anticipated. He pretended to be very sick and whenever the Indians came near groaned dismally and put his hand to his head and then to his breast as if in intense pain.
At first the warriors paid no attention, for they did not care how much he suffered. But after releasing him during meal time, they grew careless about tying him up again, and left him to roll upon the ground as he pleased. He now pretended to be sicker than ever and crawled over to a nearby pool of water, where he bathed his head and then lay down as if utterly exhausted.
Behind the pool was a clump of bushes, and back of this a stretch of dense timber. Once in the timber he felt that he could hide until nightfall and then make his way down the lake shore in the direction of Fort Oswego. Perhaps he might even find a canoe, for the Indians had a large number of these craft, hidden in various coves and creeks.
Henry had to move with extreme caution, for he realized that one mistake might cost him his life. Once or twice he saw the warriors gaze toward him and each time he led them to believe that he was in as great a pain as ever.
Presently there was a shouting at the lake front, announcing the arrival of more Indians, and all of the warriors on land looked in that direction. Now was his chance, and with the swiftness of a deer released from a trap he leaped across the pool and dove into the clump of bushes. He did not stop, but at the risk of scratching himself in a dozen places, tore his way along into the timber and went on and on, pell-mell, fetching up against more than one tree and tripping over one big root after another. Once he went into a hole up to his knee and came close to breaking his leg, which, in the end, would undoubtedly have cost him his life. But he freed himself and did not stop but continued his course, limping deeper and deeper into the forest.
A yell of rage told him that his escape was discovered, and soon he heard several Indians thrashing around through the brushwood, while others spread out for a search through the forest. There was no doubt but that they meant to re-take him were such a thing possible.
"But they shan't do it," he muttered, through his set teeth. "I must get away somehow!"
When half a mile had been covered he was surprised to find himself within sight of the lake. At first he imagined that he had gone around in a circle and brought up at the point from which he had started, but soon he saw that the spot was a strange one, some distance south of the Indian camp.
His injured shin hurt him not a little and he was glad enough to plunge into the water up to his knees. He had come out on a little bay and here several overhanging trees and bushes afforded him good shelter. He secreted himself as best he could and awaited developments.
The Indians came within a hundred yards of the spot, but no closer, and before nightfall he was left entirely alone. By this time the scraped shin felt better, and he waded out to the lake proper, the water being scarcely up to his knees.
As night drew on, he could see a faint light up the shore, which told him where the Indian camp lay. All around him was silent and deserted, only the occasional cry of a bird breaking the stillness.
Henry felt that he must get some sleep, or he would be unable to undertake the journey toward Oswego in the morning, and with this in view sought out a comfortable spot where he might lie down. Nothing came to disturb him during the night, and by sunrise he arose feeling decidedly refreshed.
A storm was approaching—the same which was to prove so disastrous to the batteaux on the lake, and Henry had not covered many miles along the lake front when it burst on him in all of its fury, causing him to seek shelter under a cliff of rocks some distance away from the water. The lightning was sharp and he heard more than one tree in the forest go down with a crash. But the storm did not last in that vicinity, and in two hours it was over, although the drifting clouds still hid the sun from view.
The storm proved a great blessing to Henry, for after it was over he came across two squirrels that had been killed by it and also a number of birds. He had not had a mouthful to eat for twenty-four hours and he now set about making himself a fire and cooking the game. He had a flint and steel, which the Indians had not taken from him, and soon he had a blaze in a hollow, where it would not be noticed.
Having satisfied the cravings of his stomach, he renewed his journey along the lake front. The storm had washed a number of things ashore and presently he came upon an upturned Indian canoe, one of the rougher sort, made of a hollowed-out log.
"Hullo, that's better than nothing," he told himself, and righted the canoe, although not without difficulty. There was also a paddle on the beach, and soon he was on board the craft and paddling southward with all the skill he could command.
As he moved over the waters of the lake he kept his eyes behind as well as in front of him, wondering if the Indians would discover what he was doing. But they were out of sight, nor did a single warrior show himself anywhere.
It was growing dark again when Henry brought his canoe to a sudden stop and then turned hastily shoreward. Far ahead he had seen another craft, holding two men. That they were whites he was sure, but whether French or English was still to be determined. He moved his canoe into a cove, and secreting himself in the bushes awaited the approach of the strangers.
Soon the boat came close enough for him to make out the voices of the newcomers. One voice sounded strangely familiar, and peering through the bushes Henry was overjoyed to recognize Sam Barringford, who was sitting in the bow of the boat, rifle in hand, while his companion was rowing.
"Sam! Sam!" he cried, as he rushed forward. "Oh, Sam, how glad I am to see you!"
"Well, by the eternal, ef it ain't Henry!" shouted the frontiersman, in almost equal joy. "This is dumb luck an' no mistake. Why, me and Gangley came out on purpose to see ef we couldn't find out what had become of ye! Are ye alone?"
"Yes."
"Any Injuns about here?"
"There are a number up the shore—about ten or fifteen miles from here."
The boat was turned into the cove and soon Henry and his old friend were shaking hands, and then the young soldier shook hands with Gangley, who was an old hunter from Pennsylvania. The youth told his story in full, to which the others listened closely.
"I reckon the best thing we can do is to git back and tell Colonel Haldimand how matters stand," said Barringford. "If the French are a-coming this way he'll want to know it."
The craft Barringford and Gangley occupied was large enough for three persons and soon Henry was on board. Then the boat was turned about and the trip to Oswego began.
On the way Barringford told about Dave's departure with the force under General Prideaux. He also asked if Henry had learned anything concerning little Nell.
"Not a word, although I questioned the Indians all I could," answered the youth.
Gangley was an expert at handling a small boat and the craft fairly flew through the water under his command and by the united efforts of those on board.
They were just coming in sight of the fort at Oswego when the sounds of distant firing reached their ears. At first there were a few scattering shots, followed, some minutes later, by a regular volley.
"The French have arrived!" cried Henry. "That's a regular battle!"
"Right you are, lad," returned the frontiersman. "See, there are their boats—a goodly number of 'em, too!"
"What shall we do?"
"Better land up the shore a bit and take to the woods. It won't do for us to show ourselves in the open down there—they'd pick us off in no time."
Gangley also agreed that this was best, and the boat was immediately turned toward shore. They leaped out without delay, and hiding the craft, proceeded without loss of time in the direction from whence the shots had come.