The Little Red Foot Part 65

"And, near Niagara, I saw Butler's Rangers manoeuvring on snow-shoes, with drums and curly bugle-horns."

"Did you know any among them?" I asked sombrely.

"Why, yes. There was Michael Reed, kin to Henry Stoner."

"My cousin, d.a.m.n him!" quoth Nick, calmly.

"He was a drummer in the Rangers of John Butler," nodded Jessup. "And I saw Philip Helmer there in a green uniform, and Charles Cady, too, of Fonda's Bush."

"All I ask," says Nick, "is to get these two hands on them. I demand no weapons; I want only to feel my fingers closing on them." He sat staring into s.p.a.ce with the blank glare of a panther. Then, "Were they painted?"

he demanded.

"No," said Jessup, "but Simon Girty was and Newberry, too. There were a dozen painted Tories or blue-eyed Indians,--whatever you call 'em,--and they sat at a Seneca fire where the red post stood, and all eating half-raw venison, guts and all----"

Penelope averted her pallid face and leaned her head on her hand.

Jessup took no notice: "They burned a prisoner that day. I was sick, where I lay hidden, to hear his shrieks. And the British in their cantonments could hear as plainly as I, yet n.o.body interfered."

"There could have been no British officer there," said Penelope, in the ghost of a voice.

"Well, there were, then," said Jessup bluntly. Turning to me he added: "There's a gin'rall there at Niagara, called St. Leger, and he's a drunken son of a s.l.u.t! We should not be afeard of that puffed up bladder, and I hope he comes against us. But Butler has some smart officers, like his son Walter, and Lieutenant Hare, and young Stephen Watts----"

"You saw _him_ there!" exclaimed Penelope.

"Yes, I saw him in a green uniform; and, with him also, a-horse, rode Sir John Johnson, all in red, and Walter Butler in black and green, and his long cloak a-trail to his spurs. By G.o.d, there is a motley crew for you--what with Brant in the saddle, in paint and buckskins and fur robe, and shaved like any dirty Mohawk; and Hiakatoo, like a blackened devil out o' h.e.l.l, all barred with scarlet and wearing the head of a great wolf for a cap, as well as the pelt to cover his war-paint!--and McDonald, with his kilt and dirk, and the d.a.m.ned black eyes of him and the two buck-teeth shining on his lips!--G.o.d!" he breathed; and took a long pull at his pannikin of spiced rum.

That evening Jessup left for Johnstown on his way to Albany with his peltry; and took with him a letter which I wrote to the Commandant at Johnstown fort.

But it was past the first of May before I had any notice taken of my letter; and on a Sunday came an Oneida runner, bearing two letters for me; one from the Commandant, acquainting me that it was not his intention to garrison Fish House or Summer House, that Nick and I were sufficient to stand watch on the Mohawk Trail and Drowned Lands and report any movement threatening the Valley from the North, and that what few men he had must go to Stanwix, where the fort had not yet been completed.

The other letter was writ me from Fonda's Bush by honest John Putman:

"Friend Jack" (says he), "this Bush is a desert indeed and all run off,--the Tories to Canady,--such as the Helmers, Cadys, Bowmans, Reeds, and the likes,--save Adam Helmer, who is of our complexion,--and our own people who are friends to liberty have fled to Johnstown excepting me,--all the women and children,--Jean De Silver's family, De Luysnes' people, the Salisburys, Scotts, Barbara Stoner, who married Conrad Reed and has gone to New York now; and all the Putmans save myself, who shall go presently in fear of the savages and Sir John.

"Sir, it is sad to see our housen empty and our fields fallow, and weeds growing in plowed land. There remain no longer any cattle or fowls or any beasts at all, only the wild poultry of the woods come to the deserted doorsteps, and the red fox runs along the fence.

"Your house stands empty as it was when you marched away. Only squirrels inhabit it now, and porcupines gnaw the corn-crib.

"Well, friend Jack, this is all I have to say. I shall drive my oxen to Johnstown Fort tomorrow, and give this letter to the first runner or express.

"I learn that you have bought the Summer House of the Commission. I wish you joy of it, but it seems a perilous purchase, and I fear that you shall soon be obliged to leave it.

"So, wishing you health, and beholden to you for many kindnesses--as are we all who come from Fonda's Bush--I close, sir, with respect and my obedience and duty to my brave young friend who serves liberty that we old folk and our women and children shall not perish or survive as British slaves.

"Sir, awaiting the dread onset of Sir John with that firmness which becomes a good American, I am,

"Your obliged and humble servant,

"JOHN PUTMAN.

The Oneida left in an hour for Ty.

And it was, I think, an hour later when Nick comes a-running to find me.

"A fire at Fish House," he cries, "and a dense smoke mounting to the sky!"

I flung aside my letter, ran to the kitchen, and called Penelope.

"Pack up and be ready to leave!" said I. And, to Nick: "Saddle Kaya and be ready to take Penelope a-horse to Mayfield block-house. Call my Indian!"

As I belted my shirt and stood ready, my Saguenay came swiftly, trailing his rifle.

"Come," said I, "we must learn why that smoke towers yonder to the sky."

Penelope took me by the sleeve:

"Do nothing rash, John Drogue," she said in a breathless way.

"Get you ready for flight," said I, fixing a fresh flint. "Nick shall run at your stirrup if it comes to that pinch----"

"But _you_!"

"Why, I am well enough; and if the Iroquois are at Fish House then I retreat through Varick's, and so by Fonda's Bush to Mayfield Fort."

She clasped her hands.

"I do not wish to leave Summer House," she said pitifully. "What is to happen to our sheep and cattle--and to our fowls and all our stores--and to Summer House itself?"

"G.o.d knows," said I impatiently. "Why do you stand there idle when you must make ready for flight!"

"I--I can not bear to have you go to Fish House--all alone----"

"I have the Yellow Leaf, and can keep clear o' trouble. Come, Penelope!----"

"When you move toward trouble I do not desire to flee the other way, toward safety!----"

"Pack up, Penelope!" shouted Nick, leading Kaya into the orchard, all saddled; and fell to making up his pack on the gra.s.s.

"At Mayfield Fort!" I called across to Nick. "And if I be not there by night, then take Penelope to Johnstown, for it means that the Iroquois are on the Sacandaga!"

"I mark you, Jack!" he replied. I turned to the girl:

"Farewell, Penelope," I said. "You shall be safe with Nick."

"But you, John Drogue?"

"Safe in the forest, always, and the devil himself could not catch me,"