Marching on Niagara Part 27

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 sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e, 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 sh.o.r.e 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 gla.s.s, 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 pa.s.sed without the storm coming, and that night the occupants of the batteaux slept soundly on the sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e," 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 sh.o.r.eward began. But valuable time had been lost, and now the rain came down in a deluge, shutting out the view on every side. The wind whistled a gale and in the midst of the downpour came a vivid flash of lightning and a crack of thunder that was deafening.

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!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Bail her out," roared the lieutenant.]

"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.

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 sh.o.r.e 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 pa.s.sed slowly. The warriors had found something of a cave fronting the lake sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e 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 antic.i.p.ated. 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 sh.o.r.e 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.