The Scouts of the Valley Read online

  CHAPTER IX. WYOMING

  The five made no attempt to pursue. In fact, they did not leave thecabin, but stood there a while, looking down at the fallen, hideous withwar paint, but now at the end of their last trail. Their tomahawks layupon the floor, and glittered when the light from the fire fell uponthem. Smoke, heavy with the odor of burned gunpowder, drifted about theroom.

  Henry threw open the two shuttered windows, and fresh currents of airpoured into the room. Over the mountains in the east came the firstshaft of day. The surface of the river was lightening.

  "What shall we do with them?" asked Paul, pointing to the silent formson the floor.

  "Leave them," said Henry. "Butler's army is burning everything beforeit, and this house and all in it is bound to go. You notice, however,that Braxton Wyatt is not here."

  "Trust him to escape every time," said Shif'less Sol. "Of course hestood back while the Indians rushed the house. But ez shore ez we livesomebody will get him some day. People like that can't escape always."

  They slipped from the house, turning toward the river bank, and not longafter it was full daylight they were at Forty Fort again, where theyfound Standish and his family. Henry replied briefly to the man'squestions, but two hours later a scout came in and reported the grimsight that he had seen in the Standish home. No one could ask forfurther proof of the fealty of the five, who sought a little sleep, butbefore noon were off again.

  They met more fugitives, and it was now too dangerous to go farther upthe valley. But not willing to turn back, they ascended the mountainsthat hem it in, and from the loftiest point that they could find soughta sight of the enemy.

  It was an absolutely brilliant day in summer. The blue of the heavensshowed no break but the shifting bits of white cloud, and the hills andmountains rolled away, solid masses of rich, dark green. The river, abeautiful river at any time, seemed from this height a great current ofquicksilver. Henry pointed to a place far up the stream where black dotsappeared on its surface. These dots were moving, and they came on infour lines.

  "Boys," he said, "you know what those lines of black dots are?"

  "Yes," replied Shif'less Sol, "it's Butler's army of Indians, Tories,Canadians, an' English. They've come from Tioga Point on the river, an'our Colonel Butler kin expect 'em soon."

  The sunlight became dazzling, and showed the boats, despite thedistance, with startling clearness. The five, watching from their peak,saw them turn in toward the land, where they poured forth a motleystream of red men and white, a stream that was quickly swallowed up inthe forest.

  "They are coming down through the woods on the fort, said Tom Ross.

  "And they're coming fast," said Henry. "It's for us to carry thewarning."

  They sped back to the Wyoming fort, spreading the alarm as they passed,and once more they were in the council room with Colonel Zebulon Butlerand his officers around him.

  "So they are at hand, and you have seen them?" said the colonel.

  "Yes," replied Henry, the spokesman, "they came down from Tioga Pointin boats, but have disembarked and are advancing through the woods. Theywill be here today."

  There was a little silence in the room. The older men understood thedanger perhaps better than the younger, who were eager for battle.

  "Why should we stay here and wait for them?" exclaimed one of theyounger captains at length-some of these captains were mere boys. "Whynot go out, meet them, and beat them?"

  "They outnumber us about five to one," said Henry. "Brant, if he isstill with them, though he may have gone to some other place from TiogaPoint, is a great captain. So is Timmendiquas, the Wyandot, and they saythat the Tory leader is energetic and capable."

  "It is all true!" exclaimed Colonel Butler. "We must stay in the fort!We must not go out to meet them! We are not strong enough!"

  A murmur of protest and indignation came from the younger officers.

  "And leave the valley to be ravaged! Women and children to be scalped,while we stay behind log walls!" said one of them boldly.

  The men in the Wyoming fort were not regular troops, merely militia,farmers gathered hastily for their own defense.

  Colonel Butler flushed.

  "We have induced as many as we could to seek refuge," he said. "It hurtsme as much as you to have the valley ravaged while we sit quiet here.But I know that we have no chance against so large a force, and if wefall what is to become of the hundreds whom we now protect?"

  But the murmur of protest grew. All the younger men were indignant. Theywould not seek shelter for themselves while others were suffering. Ayoung lieutenant saw from a window two fires spring up and burn liketorch lights against the sky. They were houses blazing before the Indianbrand.

  "Look at that!" he cried, pointing with an accusing finger, "and we arehere, under cover, doing nothing!"

  A deep angry mutter went about the room, but Colonel Butler, althoughthe flush remained on his face, still shook his head. He glanced at TomRoss, the oldest of the five.

  "You know about the Indian force," he exclaimed. "What should we do?"

  The face of Tom Ross was very grave, and he spoke slowly, as was hiswont.

  "It's a hard thing to set here," he exclaimed, "but it will be harder togo out an' meet 'em on their own ground, an' them four or five to one."

  "We must not go out," repeated the Colonel, glad of such backing.

  The door was thrust open, and an officer entered.

  "A rumor has just arrived, saying that the entire Davidson family hasbeen killed and scalped," he said.

  A deep, angry cry went up. Colonel Butler and the few who stood withhim were overborne. Such things as these could not be endured, andreluctantly the commander gave his consent. They would go out andfight. The fort and its enclosures were soon filled with the sounds ofpreparation, and the little army was formed rapidly.

  "We will fight by your side, of course," said Henry, "but we wish toserve on the flank as an independent band. We can be of more service inthat manner."

  The colonel thanked them gratefully.

  "Act as you think best," he said.

  The five stood near one of the gates, while the little force formedin ranks. Almost for the first time they were gloomy upon going intobattle. They had seen the strength of that army of Indians, renegades,Tories, Canadians, and English advancing under the banner of England,and they knew the power and fanaticism of the Indian leaders. Theybelieved that the terrible Queen Esther, tomahawk in hand, hadcontinually chanted to them her songs of blood as they came down theriver. It was now the third of July, and valley and river were beautifulin the golden sunlight. The foliage showed vivid and deep green oneither line of high hills. The summer sun had never shown more kindlyover the lovely valley.

  The time was now three o'clock. The gates of the fort were thrown open,and the little army marched out, only three hundred, of whom seventywere old men, or boys so young that in our day they would be calledchildren. Yet they marched bravely against the picked warriors of theIroquois, trained from infancy to the forest and war, and a formidablebody of white rovers who wished to destroy the little colony of"rebels," as they called them.

  Small though it might be, it was a gallant army. Young and old heldtheir heads high. A banner was flying, and a boy beat a steady insistentroll upon a drum. Henry and his comrades were on the left flank, theriver was on the right. The great gates had closed behind them, shuttingin the women and the children. The sun blazed down, throwing everythinginto relief with its intense, vivid light playing upon the brown facesof the borderers, their rifles and their homespun clothes. ColonelButler and two or three of his officers were on horseback, leading thevan. Now that the decision was to fight, the older officers, who hadopposed it, were in the very front. Forward they went, and spread outa little, but with the right flank still resting on the river, and theleft extended on the plain.

  The five were on the edge of the plain, a little detached from theothers, searching the forest for a sign of the enemy, who was alread
y sonear. Their gloom did not decrease. Neither the rolling of the drum northe flaunting of the banner had any effect. Brave though the men mightbe, this was not the way in which they should meet an Indian foe whooutnumbered them four or five to one.

  "I don't like it," muttered Tom Ross.

  "Nor do I," said Henry, "but remember that whatever happens we all standtogether."

  "We remember!" said the others.

  On-they went, and the five moving faster were now ahead of the mainforce some hundred yards. They swung in a little toward the river. Thebanks here were highland off to the left was a large swamp. The five nowchecked speed and moved with great wariness. They saw nothing, and theyheard nothing, either, until they went forty or fifty yards farther.Then a low droning sound came to their ears. It was the voice of one yetfar away, but they knew it. It was the terrible chant of Queen Esther,in this moment the most ruthless of all the savages, and inflaming themcontinuously for the combat.

  The five threw themselves flat on their faces, and waited a little. Thechant grew louder, and then through the foliage they saw the ominousfigure approaching. She was much as she had been on that night when theyfirst beheld her. She wore the same dress of barbaric colors, she swungthe same great tomahawk about her head, and sang all the time of fireand blood and death.

  They saw behind her the figures of chiefs, naked to the breech cloth forbattle, their bronze bodies glistening with the war paint, and brightfeathers gleaming in their hair. Henry recognized the tall form ofTimmendiquas, notable by his height, and around him his little band ofWyandots, ready to prove themselves mighty warriors to their easternfriends the Iroquois. Back of these was a long line of Indians and theirwhite allies, Sir John Johnson's Royal Greens and Butler's Rangersin the center, bearing the flag of England. The warriors, of whom theSenecas were most numerous, were gathered in greatest numbers on theirright flank, facing the left flank of the Americans. Sangerachte andHiokatoo, who had taken two English prisoners at Braddock's defeat, andwho had afterwards burned them both alive with his own hand, were theprincipal leaders of the Senecas. Henry caught a glimpse of "Indian"Butler in the center, with a great blood-red handkerchief tied aroundhis head, and, despite the forest, he noticed with a great sinking ofthe heart how far the hostile line extended. It could wrap itself like apython around the defense.

  "It's a tale that will soon be told," said Paul.

  They went back swiftly, and warned Colonel Butler that the enemy wasat band. Even as they spoke they heard the loud wailing chant of QueenEsther, and then came the war whoop, pouring from a thousand throats,swelling defiant and fierce like the cry of a wounded beast. Thefarmers, the boys, and the old men, most of whom had never been inbattle, might well tremble at this ominous sound, so great in volumeand extending so far into the forest. But they stood firm, drawingthemselves into a somewhat more compact body, and still advancing withtheir banners flying, and the boy beating out that steady roll on thedrum.

  The enemy now came into full sight, and Colonel Butler deployed hisforce in line of battle, his right resting on the high bank of the riverand his left against the swamp. Forward pressed the motley army of theother Butler, he of sanguinary and cruel fame, and the bulk of hisforce came into view, the sun shining down on the green uniforms of theEnglish and the naked brown bodies of the Iroquois.

  The American commander gave the order to fire. Eager fingers werealready on the trigger, and a blaze of light ran along the entire rank.The Royal Greens and Rangers, although replying with their own fire,gave back before the storm of bullets, and the Wyoming men, with a shoutof triumph, sprang forward. It was always a characteristic of the bordersettler, despite many disasters and a knowledge of Indian craft andcunning, to rush straight at his foe whenever he saw him. His, unlessa trained forest warrior himself, was a headlong bravery, and now thisgallant little force asked for nothing but to come to close grips withthe enemy.

  The men in the center with "Indian" Butler gave back still more. Withcries of victory the Wyoming men pressed forward, firing rapidly, andcontinuing to drive the mongrel white force. The rifles were crackingrapidly, and smoke arose over the two lines. The wind caught wisps of itand carried them off down the river.

  "It goes better than I thought," said Paul as he reloaded his rifle.

  "Not yet," said Henry, "we are fighting the white men only. Where areall the Indians, who alone outnumber our men more than two to one?"

  "Here they come," said Shif'less Sol, pointing to the depths of theswamp, which was supposed to protect the left flank of the Wyomingforce.

  The five saw in the spaces, amid the briars and vines, scores of darkfigures leaping over the mud, naked to the breech cloth, armed withrifle and tomahawk, and rushing down upon the unprotected side of theirfoe. The swamp had been but little obstacle to them.

  Henry and his comrades gave the alarm at once. As many as possible werecalled off immediately from the main body, but they were not numerousenough to have any effect. The Indians came through the swamp inhundreds and hundreds, and, as they uttered their triumphant yell,poured a terrible fire into the Wyoming left flank. The defenders wereforced to give ground, and the English and Tories came on again.

  The fire was now deadly and of great volume. The air was filled withthe flashing of the rifles. The cloud of smoke grew heavier, and faces,either from heat or excitement, showed red through it. The air wasfilled with bullets, and the Wyoming force was being cut down fast, asthe fire of more than a thousand rifles converged upon it.

  The five at the fringe of the swamp loaded and fired as fast as theycould at the Indian horde, but they saw that it was creeping closer andcloser, and that the hail of bullets it sent in was cutting awaythe whole left flank of the defenders. They saw the tall figure ofTimmendiquas, a very god of war, leading on the Indians, with hisfearless Wyandots in a close cluster around him. Colonel John Durkee,gathering up a force of fifty or sixty, charged straight at thewarriors, but he was killed by a withering volley, which drove his menback.

  Now occurred a fatal thing, one of those misconceptions which oftendecide the fate of a battle. The company of Captain Whittlesey, on theextreme left, which was suffering most severely, was ordered to fallback. The entire little army, which was being pressed hard now, seeingthe movement of Whittlesey, began to retreat. Even without the mistakeit is likely they would have lost in the face of such numbers.

  The entire horde of Indians, Tories, Canadians, English, and renegades,uttering a tremendous yell, rushed forward. Colonel Zebulon Butler,seeing the crisis, rode up and down in front of his men, shouting:"Don't leave me, my children! the victory is ours!" Bravely his officersstrove to stop the retreat. Every captain who led a company into actionwas killed. Some of these captains were but boys. The men were fallingby dozens.

  All the Indians, by far the most formidable part of the invading force,were through the swamp now, and, dashing down their unloaded rifles,threw themselves, tomahawk in hand, upon the defense. Not more than twohundred of the Wyoming men were left standing, and the impact of sevenor eight hundred savage warriors was so great that they were hurled backin confusion. A wail of grief and terror came from the other side ofthe river, where a great body of women and children were watching thefighting.

  "The battle's lost," said Shif'less Sol.

  "Beyond hope of saving it," said Henry, "but, boys, we five are aliveyet, and we'll do our best to help the others protect the retreat."

  They kept under cover, fighting as calmly as they could amid such aterrible scene, picking off warrior after warrior, saving more than onesoldier ere the tomahawk fell. Shif'less Sol took a shot at "Indian"Butler, but he was too far away, and the bullet missed him.

  "I'd give five years of my life if he were fifty yards nearer,"exclaimed the shiftless one.

  But the invading force came in between and he did not get another shot.There was now a terrible medley, a continuous uproar, the crashing fireof hundreds of rifles, the shouts of the Indians, and the cries of thewounded. Over them al
l hovered smoke and dust, and the air was heavy,too, with the odor of burnt gunpowder. The division of old men and veryyoung boys stood next, and the Indians were upon them, tomahawk in hand,but in the face of terrible odds all bore themselves with a valor worthyof the best of soldiers. Three fourths of them died that day, beforethey were driven back on the fort.

  The Wyoming force was pushed away from the edge of the swamp, which hadbeen some protection to the left, and they were now assailed from allsides except that of the river. "Indian" Butler raged at the head of hismen, who had been driven back at first, and who had been saved by theIndians. Timmendiquas, in the absence of Brant, who was not seen uponthis field, became by valor and power of intellect the leader of all theIndians for this moment. The Iroquois, although their own fierce chiefs,I-Tiokatoo, Sangerachte, and the others fought with them, unconsciouslyobeyed him. Nor did the fierce woman, Queen Esther, shirk the battle.Waving her great tomahawk, she was continually among the warriors,singing her song of war and death.

  They were driven steadily back toward the fort, and the little bandcrumbled away beneath the deadly fire. Soon none would be left unlessthey ran for their lives. The five drew away toward the forest. Theysaw that the fort itself could not hold out against such a numerous andvictorious foe, and they had no mind to be trapped. But their retreatwas slow, and as they went they sent bullet after bullet into the Indianflank. Only a small percentage of the Wyoming force was left, and it nowbroke. Colonel Butler and Colonel Dennison, who were mounted, reachedthe fort. Some of the men jumped into the river, swam to the other shoreand escaped. Some swam to a little island called Monocacy, and hid, butthe Tories and Indians hunted them out and slew them. One Tory found hisbrother there, and killed him with his own hand, a deed of unspeakablehorror that is yet mentioned by the people of that region. A few fledinto the forest and entered the fort at night.