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

Once again Washington urged that a swift march be made on the fort. "It is our only chance of success," he said. "In a few weeks winter will be on us and then the campaign in this wilderness must come to an end."

There was no disputing his words, for the snow continued to fall and when it did not snow it rained and the wind kept growing colder and colder every day until even the most hardy of the soldiers began to grumble over the discomforts of camp life. Forward went the whole army, toiling painfully through the forest, where only an imperfect Indian trail led the way. General Forbes was now weaker than ever and others urged him to go back. But, full of determination, he refused, and continued to direct the movements of his army from his sick bed. His devotion to duty was wonderful and something well worthy of being remembered.

Dave and Henry suffered with the other soldiers. Frequently when night came they had to rest in clothing that was soaked through and through, and the one grain of comfort they extracted from their situation was the thought that each day's march brought them so much nearer to the spot where they supposed little Nell was being kept a prisoner.

"I won't complain if only we get her back," said Henry. And Dave agreed heartily.

It was now the middle of November, and winter had begun to set in in earnest. Ice was forming on every pool and slow-running brook and snow storms were frequent, although none of them amounted to much. The nights were the worst and many a large camp-fire did the soldiers build to keep themselves warm. An advance guard was out constantly, to guard against a surprise, but no French or hostile Indians appeared.

Late one afternoon there were a number of shots fired in the distance and half an hour later a small vanguard came in bringing with them a number of French and Indian prisoners. These prisoners were closely questioned and from them it was learned that the French and Indians at the fort were suffering greatly from sickness and from a lack of supplies, – the latter having failed to reach Fort Duquesne on account of the English victories in the north.

"If you hurry you may take the fort with ease," said one of the prisoners, who wished to curry favor with his captors.

This news was most encouraging and it was ordered that the main body of soldiers should push on again, leaving the artillery and supply wagons to come up later. The news placed Dave and Henry in the best of spirits, and they pushed on as quickly as anybody, with Barringford beside them.

But progress was slow, for there were many hills to cross, and on retreating the French had left many fallen trees in the pathway, and in one spot was a dangerous pitfall, into which the enemy had thrown several wolves. A couple of grenadiers fell into this pitfall and were sadly bitten by the half-starved beasts before being rescued.

At last those in advance reckoned that they were now but one day's journey from Fort Duquesne. The ground looked familiar to Dave and presently Barringford pointed out the spot where the young soldier and his father had been re-united after the battle under Braddock.

Soon from a distance came a hurrahing, which every instant increased in volume. "The fort is deserted! The French and Indians are retreating!"

"Can that be possible?" burst from Henry's lips. "Come, let us find out!"

He rushed forward, and Dave and Barringford quickly followed. Soon they were in the vanguard, which was scrambling over fallen trees and brushwood and climbing the last hill which separated the English soldiers from the fort. There was a thick smoke ahead and presently they saw a column of flame shoot up, followed by a dull explosion.

"They have fired the fort," said Barringford. "Reckon as how they'll burn everything they can't carry."

By the time the soldiers reached the vicinity of the stronghold the fire was burning low. Only a small portion of the stockade was gone, with one or two small buildings and what had been left of the stores. An Indian was found nearby, suffering from a broken leg, and he gave the intelligence that the French command had retreated down the Ohio. Some had gone only a few hours before and others had left three days previous.

"And what of the prisoners they had?" asked Henry, as soon as he could get the chance.

"The prisoners were taken away three days ago."

"Were there any little girls among them?"

"Yes, four little maidens. One from the south and three from the east, with two women and forty-one men," was the reply.

"Three girls!" murmured Henry. "One of them must have been Nell! And they took them off three days ago? Oh, Dave, I'm afraid we have lost her forever!"

CHAPTER XX

AT FORT PITT – RETURN HOME

Dave could do but little to comfort his cousin and if the truth be told he felt almost as sad as Henry, for little Nell, with her bright ways and sweet disposition, seemed more dear to his heart now than ever.

"It's certainly too bad, Henry," he said, after the interview with the Indian had come to an end. "We might follow down the Ohio, but if they have three days' start there is small hope of our catching up. They'll think the English soldiers are after them and they'll push ahead just as hard as possible."

"Do you think General Forbes or Colonel Washington will go after them?"

Dave shook his head.

"No, General Forbes is too sick and winter is now at hand. He is certain to rest on his laurels."

So it proved. A small detachment was sent down the Ohio, and with this went our young soldiers and Sam Barringford. But this detachment returned to the fort three days later, having captured but three Indians and one French trader, all of whom were found in a canoe too intoxicated to make good their escape.

The trader thus taken was named Varlette. He had once been attached to Jean Bevoir's trading post. Dave knew the man, having met him when out gunning with Barringford.

From Varlette they gained the information that Jean Bevoir had been at Fort Duquesne, having come in after the raid upon the homes of the Morrises, Uriah Risley and others. Some of Bevoir's bloodthirsty acts had been discountenanced by the French general in authority, and in something of a rage Bevoir had taken himself off, with his Indian followers and their prisoners.

"Now it ees for him to become von vite chief of de Indians," said Varlette. "Dat will suit heem, and will bring heem in von pot of money, for he vill make de vite peoples pay heem big money for de prisoners."

"The contemptible rascal!" cried Barringford. "Ef the rangers git holt o' him they'll hang him higher nor the tail o' a kite, hear me!"

"He'll deserve hanging, if he misuses little Nell and the others," returned Henry.

As soon as it was possible to do so, the fort was put in thorough repair, and the name was changed to Fort Pitt, in honor of the prime minister of England. To-day this ground is covered by the city of Pittsburg, with its gigantic iron and steel works. What a mighty change from the lonely forest lands of less than a hundred and fifty years ago! Then called the West, or the Western Country, Pittsburg is now considered in the East. So has our country grown.

The fall of Fort Duquesne brought to a close the campaigns of 1758. The taking of this stronghold was hailed with delight by all the settlers in this section of the colonies, and they hastened to re-possess themselves of the homesteads which they had been forced to abandon during the two or three years previous.

As soon as the victory at Fort Duquesne assured peace upon the frontier for some time to come, Washington retired from the colonial troops and returned to Mount Vernon, to the large estate left by his brother, and which now demanded his attention. It may be added here that soon after this he married Mrs. Custis, afterward known to all as the gentle and loving Martha Washington. This was Washington's last appearance on the scene of battle during the French and English War. When next he took up the sword it was for American Independence.

It was not until early spring that Dave and Henry were released from duty and marched with a number of the militia back to Winchester. Their coming was hailed with delight by Mrs. Morris and the others, although all were downcast at the news that little Nell was still missing.

It was found that Joseph Morris was doing nicely and that Rodney was feeling better than ever. James Morris had been out to the homestead and had already cut the timber for another cabin, to take the place of that burned down.

"I also rounded up the most of our cattle and have all our horses and a new lot of chickens and pigs," said he. "So, although we have lost a good deal, we are not as bad off as we might be. The worst loss is the furniture we brought here when we came, years ago. That came from England and Germany and can't be replaced. But I'm reckoning on getting a few fancy pieces for sister Lucy from Annapolis, so things will look kind of homelike after awhile."

"Oh, James, you are very good!" cried Mrs. Morris. "But it won't be home until Nell comes back to it."

A few weeks later found all the Morrises at the homestead, if such the spot can be called. The burned place had been carefully cleaned off by James Morris, and a temporary shelter had been made of a new cattle shed. Here the family went to live while the men and the boys began the construction of the new cabin. Rodney could not do such hard work but kept himself busy with the cattle and the poultry; and thus several weeks passed swiftly away.

Carpenter work pleased Dave and he was set at work making doors and window frames, and also several benches and a table or two, while the others attended to the raising of the cabin frame and the roofing and side boarding. Soon the cabin was fit for use and they moved in, and then Mr. James Morris made several trips to Winchester and one to Annapolis, taking Henry along, to buy the hundred and one things which were needed and which had either been burnt up or carried off by the Indians and their French allies. In the meantime Mrs. Morris busied herself in weaving a new rag carpet and toweling, and in making some necessary clothing, for to buy many of these things was, in those days, out of the question. Then Dave and Henry went hunting and brought down several deer and a number of rabbits and foxes, and once, when out with Sam Barringford, all three brought down a bear, and these skins were all properly tanned and then used for bed coverings and rugs.

On his return from Annapolis James Morris brought news of a new campaign against the French.

"We are going in for the entire conquest of Canada," he said. "Major General Amherst has been put in command of all the British forces, and the army is to be divided into three parts, one under Wolfe against Quebec, another under Amherst himself against Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and a third under General Prideaux, who is to march against Fort Niagara."

"Hurrah!" shouted Henry, "I hope we take Niagara. If we do it will cut the French entirely off from the Ohio and the Mississippi, and this ground will be safer than ever."

"Is Fort Niagara on the Niagara River?" questioned Mrs. Morris.

"It's located on the eastern bank of the river, just where that stream flows into Lake Ontario," replied her husband. "I understand it's a first-class stronghold – a good sight better than Fort Duquesne was. General Prideaux will have no fool of a task reducing it."

"I don't see how he's going to get there, unless he starts from Fort Duquesne and fights his way through the Indian lands," said Rodney. "If he tries that he'll certainly have his hands full."

"No, he's not to go that way," was James Morris's answer. "He's going up to Albany first and from there through the Mohawk valley to Oswego. At Oswego, if everything is favorable, he will take his way westward to Fort Niagara. They didn't say so, but I think he'll go by water from Oswego to Niagara. If he had the boats it would be the safest and quickest route."

"Is he going to take any rangers along?" questioned Dave, eagerly.

"Why, Dave, do you want to become a soldier again?" asked his father, turning to study his son's face.

"Yes, sir," was the prompt response. "I'll tell you why. So long as Canada remains unconquered just so long there is going to be trouble here and elsewhere. But once we show the French we are masters in America we'll have no further fuss, either with them or with the Indians. I go in for settling the matter, and doing it thoroughly and right away, too."

"Gallinippers!" ejaculated Barringford, who stood by, oiling up his flint-lock musket. "Dave, you're a reg'lar lawyer, hang me ef ye ain't! An' the argyment's right to the p'int, too. The Frenchers won't know they're beat until we lick 'em good an' hard, an' I go in fer doin' the lickin' right now. Then, arfter it's done, we kin set out an' plow, an' raise cattle, an' hunt an' trap in peace, – an' the Injun who wants to raise a sculp every ten minits now will sit on a tree stump an' smoke his pipe an' look on," and Barringford shook his head earnestly. "Ain't no ust to talk," he went on. "It's like damming a stream – you dam it about half tight an' the fust lively rain will break the dam to bits; but you dam it good an' hard an' it will stick, no matter how hard it rains and by-an'-by the water will find out it's got to go a new way – an' the French an' Injuns will find they've got to leave the English alone. I ain't much on eddication, but I kin figger thet out, an' so kin any man whose head is level;" and Barringford resumed his gun oiling.

James Morris had much to tell that night – of his many purchases, and of the war talk he had heard at Annapolis and other cities he had visited. He, too, was interested in the expedition against Fort Niagara, for he felt that if the French power was broken in this direction he would be able to return to his trading post on the Kinotah without much fear of molestation from either French or Indians.

It was late that night when there came a sudden thumping on the cabin door. All sprang to their feet in alarm, and each of the men and the boys reached for his firearm, which they were in the habit of having close at hand.

"Who is there?" demanded James Morris.

"It is I – Uriah Risley," came in the well-known voice of the Englishman. "Let me in. I've good news."

At once the cabin door was unbarred and flung back. All crowded forward, to behold Uriah Risley outside, on horseback. Beside him, also on horseback, was his wife, pale and thin, a mere shadow of her former self, but still able to ride alone.

"Well, I declare, Caddy Risley!" screamed Mrs. Morris, and ran out to greet the woman. "Is it really you or your ghost?"

"'Tis really me," was the answer, "although I sometimes feel like a ghost, I'm that thin."

"But mercy on us! Where have you been – with the Indians?"

"With them and with the French. I was with the Indians first – for many weeks – and then some French soldiers rescued me. They turned me over to some traders just before a battle with the English, and then the Indians and some French under Jean Bevoir got hold of me. They took me up through the Mohawk valley to Lake Ontario, and there I met a lot of other prisoners, your Nell with them."

"Nell!" the name came from several lips simultaneously.

"Yes, Nell and the Rose twins. They were with some Indians who are under Bevoir's thumb."

"And what of Nell now?" asked Mrs. Morris quickly.

"I think she is still with the Indians. A French soldier came along one day and carried me off in a canoe. He wanted to marry me, but I told him I was already married and then he set me ashore in the wilderness. I tramped for miles and miles, until I was so weary I could scarcely stand and I was almost dying of starvation, when I fell in with some German settlers. They took me to Fort Stanwix and from there I was taken to Albany, and finally made my way to Philadelphia, and then came on here. Uriah and I met at Winchester."

"Yes, and I nearly dropped dead from joy," put in the Englishman. "It was like getting her back from the grave. I could not at first believe my eyes. But it's really and truly my good wife, and I pray God we may never be separated again," concluded Uriah Risley, reverently.

CHAPTER XXI

ON THE WAY TO THE ARMY

Once inside the cabin, Mrs. Risley related her story in detail, to which the others paid the closest attention. Her trials had been great, and the quick tears of sympathy coursed down Mrs. Morris's cheeks as she listened, and the others were also affected.

"It was enough to kill you," said Mrs. Morris, at the conclusion. "But now you are back, safe and sound, we'll do our best by you. You can stay here until your husband builds another cabin and gets everything else into proper shape for living on your land." And so it was settled.

When Dave and Henry retired once more it was not to sleep but to talk in an undertone, the subject of the conversation being little Nell and the twins with her.

"I'm going to do what I can to rescue her," declared Henry. "It makes my blood boil to think of her being among those dirty redskins and French."

"I believe the best thing we can do is to join the army under General Prideaux," declared Dave. "His force will most likely go right through the Mohawk valley to Lake Ontario and then along the lake to Fort Niagara – just the territory where those Indians and French must be."

"I've got another idea," said Henry, after a thoughtful pause. "I got the news through White Buffalo. General Johnson has been commissioned to stir up the Indians in the Mohawk valley and get them to join in the attack on Fort Niagara. White Buffalo and his followers are going to join Johnson's force. Why not go with the white men in this crowd? We'll be sure to hear more about those Indians and the French traders in that way than if we went with the regular army."

"But to train with redskins, Henry!"

"We needn't train with 'em. There will be at least a dozen white men with the crowd and we can go with them. I once met General Johnson. He's a big-hearted Irishman, full of hard, common sense, and I know we could get along with him. And when he heard our story he might put himself out to help us."

So the youths talked on until at last they fell asleep – to dream of fierce fights with the French and Indians and daring rescues of little Nell. But these were only dreams. Little did they realize how many real difficulties and perils still awaited them.

In the morning Dave insisted upon talking the matter over with Sam Barringford. They found the old hunter ready enough to listen to what they had to say.

"I'm with ye!" he exclaimed, after they had finished. "It ain't no half bad plan nuther. I know Sir William Johnson like a book – fact is, I know him a heap sight better nor any book. As ye say, he's whole-souled and chock full of common sense. The Injuns love him as they love few white men – an' all because he's treated 'em fa'r and squar'. Why he's done more fer the English government nor any dozen Indian Commissioners put together. He knows jest how to handle 'em, an' he makes friends o' foes almost afore ye can turn a hand. Yes, let us go to him by all means and I'll warrant when ye tell him the whole story he'll set some Injuns out to find little Nell an' them Rose twins."

That afternoon the subject was brought to the attention of the whole family. Mrs. Morris did not know whether to be glad or sorry, but in the end she told the boys to go, but be careful and not run into unnecessary danger, and in private she asked Barringford to watch over them carefully.

"I'll do my level best, ma'am," said the frontiersman. "And ef I can make it, they'll come back to ye unharmed. But they're putty hot-like when they strike a trail as suits 'em, ye know thet as well as I."

Preparations were at once made for their departure. Both Dave and Henry were fitted out with new hunting suits of the regular trapper pattern and each took along the best gun he could obtain. Sam Barringford had bought another rifle, which he christened Old Trusty No. 2. They went on foot, not knowing if their progress with the whites and Indians would admit of riding on horseback.

In the meantime it was decided that James Morris should remain at the cabin, to finish the building and do the planting, thus giving his brother ample time to regain his health and strength, and also making it easier for Rodney, who during the past few weeks had been working harder than was good for his constitution.

"Good-bye, my son," said James Morris, when the trio was ready to start. "Be careful, but do not forget that we look to you to bring little Nell back, if such a thing is possible;" and then Mrs. Morris kissed the boys; and the long journey into what had been the Indian country was begun.

Dave felt somewhat sober so long as they were in sight of the newly built cabin, but when the last rise of ground was passed, and they had waved a parting farewell, to which Mrs. Morris had answered by a wave of her apron, his spirits returned, and soon he, Henry, and Barringford were chatting as though nothing out of the ordinary was occurring, yet down in his heart, each felt that this search for little Nell was going to prove a serious and, most likely, a dangerous undertaking.

"Where is Sir William Johnson now?" asked Dave, presently, after several miles of the trail through the forest had been covered.

"Somewhere near Fort Johnson," answered Barringford. "He's out to get the Six Nations to join General Prideaux's army either at Fort Stanwix or at Oswego – if Prideaux can get that far. Johnson is the very best man they could send to the Indians."

"Were you ever out with him?" asked Henry.

"Many a time, lad. He's a great hunter, too, let me tell you – can hit the bull's-eye at a hundred paces without half trying. And when it comes to dancing an Indian war dance he can do that, too."

"And yet he's an Irish nobleman!"

"Yes, I allow as how he's an odd mixture of a man. But that mixture makes him just the right kind for the redskins. He understands 'em – top, bottom and sides, as the saying goes. He appeals to their brains as well as their instincts – and when he once makes friends of 'em they are willing to lay down their lives for him. In 1756 he was appointed sole superintendent of the Six Nations Indians, and he made a perilous trip all the way to Onondaga, their capital, and staid with 'em two weeks, and got 'em to swear that they would remain neutral. That was a big feather in his cap. Then the next year he joined Webb at Fort Edward with some of his Indians, but he was too late to do anything, although I've heard he was more than willing to fight. He was also on hand to fight Montcalm when Abercrombie attacked Ticonderoga, but his three hundred Indians didn't see the use of being slaughtered in the open at mid-day and they refused to fight, although they told Johnson they would take part in the battle in their own way."

"It's queer the English soldiers can't fight as we do," said Henry. "I really can't understand it. They get out in the open and the Indian gets behind a tree, and who has the best of it? Certainly not the man in the open."

"I think the English soldiers have learned a lesson or two," said Dave. "I don't believe you'll find General Prideaux marching on Fort Niagara in the broad sunlight."

They were trailing through a dense forest, with trees on every side, lifting their heads a hundred feet and more to the sky. Gigantic roots lay sprawling on every side and they had to pick their way with care, for fear of pitching headlong or spraining an ankle. It was clear and moderately warm, and would have been warmer had the sunlight reached them.

"Years ago this was a great ground fer b'ar," said Barringford, as they rested for their noonday lunch, eating some things they had brought along from the cabin. "There war a cave 'bout two miles from here whar the b'ar ust to gather to the number of fifteen or twenty. But the cave was cleaned out so many times ain't likely to be any b'ar left."

"Shall we go near the cave?" questioned Dave. "I'd like to have a look at the spot."

"Yes, we'll go putty clost, lad. But you don't want to waste no time on game jest now, do ye?"

"Not unless it came very easy. If we got a bear it would give us some fine meat to take along, and we could sell the skin at Cherry Run."