A Hero of Ticonderoga
Page 14
CHAPTER XIV--GABRIEL'S GOOD SERVICE
On the afternoon of the 9th of May, 1775, Job and Nathan laid their gunsin the canoe and stood beside her ready to set her afloat in the brownwater, whose ripples softly lapped the drift of dried sedges along theshore. Job looked anxiously about, and once more, as he had severaltimes previously done, he whistled a loud shrill note through hisfingers.
"Where on airth is that dog? He mistrusted somethin' was up and run off.He'd ortu be tied up, but we can't wait any longer, an' he'll hafter runloose. Wal, le's be off."
Lifting the canoe, they set her afloat, stepped lightly on board, and,kneeling in the bottom, sent her flying down the creek. They skirted thelake almost beneath the spreading branches of the maples, now alreadydappled with the tender green of budding leaves. A little back from thenaked, western shore, with its crumbling ruins of the old French waterbattery, uprose the gray battlements and barracks of Ticonderoga, andthe blazoned cross of England floating lazily in the breeze.
"I've follered it for many a day," said Job sadly, "an' I never thoughtto go agin it. But I b'lieve I'm right," and he turned his faceresolutely forward.
The turmoil and horror of war seemed far removed from the serene sky,the rippled water kissing the quiet shores, and the pervading sense ofthe earth's renewing life, enforced by bursting buds and opening flowersand songs of birds. Even the grim fortress seemed but a memento ofconflict long since ended forever.
Sweeping into the broad mouth of the creek, they joined the motley crowdalready gathered there. The assemblage was composed of all who werecapable of bearing arms, from gray-headed veterans of the last war, tothe striplings who had not yet been mustered on a training field. Jobreceived hearty greetings from more than one old comrade whom he had notseen since they ranged this region, then an unreclaimed wilderness,under the leadership of the brave and wary Robert Rogers, and he wassoon in reminiscences of scouts and ambuscades, while Nathan watched andnoted everything, a most interested spectator of what was passing sounobtrusively into history.
Presently there was a stir and gathering together of the detached groupsand an expectant hush. Then he saw towering among them, in cocked hatand military garb of blue and buff, the stalwart figure of Ethan Allen.
"Fall in, men," said the deep-toned voice of Allen, and the groupsformed in line as best they could among the trees.
As they moved forward to take their places Nathan noticed an unfamiliarform skulking among the tree trunks near him--a swarthy little manwearing a tasseled, woolen cap and gray coat unlike the Yankee garb. Itflashed across his mind that this was the Canadian employed by hisstepfather, and he tried to keep watch of his movements. But there wasmuch else to engage him, and just then he felt a touch on his leg, and,turning, saw Gabriel's sorrowful face looking wistfully up to his own."Down, Gabe," he said in a low tone, and the hound crouched behind. Justthen Ethan Allen, having passed slowly down the line, accosting one andanother, broke the silence:
"Friends of the Grants, we are already enough for this business in hand,but there are more to come. There will be boats enough to cross us allin good time. Keep quiet. Cook your rations and eat your supper.To-morrow we'll eat our breakfast in Ticonderoga, or know the reasonwhy."
As Nathan's entranced gaze was for a moment withdrawn from the belovedcommander, he caught a glimpse of the little unknown man stealing awayamong the shadows. Being more accustomed to the rigid discipline of thegarrison than to the free and easy customs of volunteers, he did notdare to leave the ranks till many of his comrades had straggled away.Then he sought Job and told him his suspicions.
"I thought Newton was goin' to tend to them critters. Newton," he calledto his neighbor, "didn't you put a guard over Toombs and his man?"
"Toombs is safe in care of a good man, but his Canuck couldn't be found.I guess he's too stupid to do any mischief, anyway."
"Well, he's ben a sneakin' round here an' now he's gone, an' there's notellin' where. Where's Toombs's boat?"
"Here," and Newton pointed to the landing, where it lay among manyothers.
"Gabe's round here somewheres," said Nathan inadvertently.
"Jest the one I was a wishin' for," said the old man, aroused from histroubled pondering. "He can help when nob'dy else can." He then sent oneof his shrill whistles into the woods, and then another, with such goodeffect that Gabriel presently appeared, loping easily along. "Goodfellow, good fellow. Now, Newton, we'll ketch that skunk. Here, here,old boy," and he hurried swiftly away with the hound at heel.
Arrived at the house they found Toombs unconfined, but under thevigilant guard of a lynx-eyed Green Mountain Boy. When Job inquired forthe Canadian, he detected a gleam of triumph in the glowering eyes ofthe surly, half-defiant prisoner.
"The fox has slipped," said Job; "but never mind. If he can fool Gabehe's a smart 'un. Ruth, where's somethin' that 'ere Canuck has wore?"
Ruth, who stood near her idle spinning wheel, half dazed at the unwontedcommotion and afraid of she knew not what, pointed covertly to a muchworn pair of moccasins hanging near the fireplace to dry.
"Hisn? There couldn't be nothin' better. See here, Gabe."
The hound snuffed eagerly at the soiled footgear, slowly wagging histail, and then looked inquiringly at his master.
"Sarch him out, boy. Sarch him out," Job encouraged him, pointing alongthe ground.
The hound circled about the yard a little, and then, finding the trail,followed it silently and steadily down to the creek to where the menwere mustered. There, on the much trodden ground, it baffled him for awhile. Resorting to his usual tactics, he made widening circles andagain found the trail and went off upon it in a steady, untiring pacesouthward in the direction of Ticonderoga.
"I knowed it," said Job to himself, "and I'll bet ye there'll be aCanuck treed afore sundown." Guided by the deep, mellow baying of thehound, he set off, with his gun at atrail, in rapid pursuit.
The agile little Canadian had at least an hour's start, and made suchbrisk use of it that he was on the shore opposite the Fort when he wasovertaken by the hound, who at once set furiously upon him. Beingunarmed, he was forced to scramble up a tree, from which, when he hadrecovered his breath, he began lustily to hail the Fort, and atintervals to curse the hound. His shouts, and Gabriel's insistentdeep-mouthed bayings, could scarcely fail to attract the attention ofthe garrison, and Job, pushing forward at his best pace, presentlyappeared upon the scene.
"Hello de Forrt," the Canuck was shouting. "Hey! Hello de Forrt! Sacrechien! Go home, Ah tol' you! Hello, Carillon. Tac-con-derrrque! All deBastonais was comin' for took you, Ah tol' you! Sacre chien! Stop offyou nowse so Ah can heard me spik."
"Shut yer head an' come down out o' that mighty quick," Job commanded ina low voice.
"Me no onstan' Angleesh," and again the voice rang out over across thewater: "Hello de Forrt!"
Peering through the overhanging branches, Job saw a group of red-coatedsoldiers gathered on the other shore, and presently saw a boat puttingout from it.
"Looka here," said he sternly, as he cocked his piece and aimed upward;"I don't want tu be obleeged tu hurt you, but stop yer hollerin' an'come right down."
"Me no onstan', Ah tol' you! Hello--." The lusty hail was cut short bythe report of the long smooth-bore. The Canadian's cap went spinningfrom his head, and he came scrambling down in a haste that threatened toleave half his clothes behind.
"Ah comin'! Ah comin'! Don't shot some more!" he cried in a voicetrembling with fright.
Job arrested his descent till his gun was reloaded; then, when hiscaptive slid to the ground, he quickly tied his hands behind with afathom of cord, one end of which he held. Then he removed the woolensash from the Canadian's waist and bound it about his mouth.
A glance upon the lake showed the boat half-way across, and approachingas fast as two pairs of oars could impel it. Job hurried his man into anevergreen thicket some twenty yards away, and, leaving him tied to atree in charge of the hound, he stealthily returned to asce
rtain ifpossible whether the nature of the alarm had been comprehended by thesoldiers. The boat drew rapidly toward the place where he lay concealed,and, at a little distance, the occupants lay upon their oars while theyheld consultation, so near that he could hear every word of it.
"Well, boys," said the sergeant in command, "whathiver it was, Hi don'thear nothink more of it. But Hi'll 'ail the shore. 'Ello there,whathiver is the row?" An answer was silently awaited till the echoesdied away.
"Ah't was some o' thim Yankee divils huntin' just," said one of thesoldiers, "and that's all about it. Divil a word could I make out butthe dog yowlin' an' a man phillalooin', an' thin the shot. They kiltwhativer they was at an' thin wint away."
"Hi believe you're right, Murphy, an' we'll no bother to go ashore, butjust pull back and report to the captain," and off went the boat to thewestern shore.
With a sigh of relief Job sped back to his prisoner, to whom he motionedthe homeward way, and set forth with him in front at a break-neck pace,which was occasionally quickened by a punch of the gun muzzle in therear, and so was the captive driven to the camp.
Ticonderoga's evening gun had long since boomed its vesper thunder, andthe shadows of evening were thickening into night in the forest, whenJob emerged from them into the glare of the camp fire with his hound andprisoner, and received the warm commendations of Allen and hisassociates for his promptly and skilfully performed exploit.
"I don't claim no credit for't. It was all Gabe's doin's, an' if I'dleft him tied up to hum as I laid out to, our cake would all 'a' bendough."
"Here, Newton, here's your man. Put him under guard with that Tory,Toombs," said Allen.
A tall man of noble, commanding presence, but of a quiet, modest mien,stooped to caress the hound. "Why," he said, "it's one of Sunderland'sdogs, that haven't their equal in New England."
"You've got an eye for houn' dogs, Capt'n Warner. He sartain is one o'them dogs an'll foller anything he's told to, though 't ain't no gre'ttrick to track a Canuck more'n an Injin. They're both strong-scentedcritters."