With Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga

by W. Bert Foster

  CHAPTER IV

  'SIAH BOLDERWOOD'S STRATAGEM

  Sheriff Ten Eyck was a man of determination and although he had beforetested the mettle of the Grants men, he felt a burden of confidence nowwith this army behind him. The ridicule of the party in ambush stung hispride, and although warned that a considerable number of settlers werehidden in the wood, he was not disposed to temporize. But the men whohad accompanied him on his nefarious mission were far differentlyimpressed by the situation. They had followed the doughty sheriff in thehope of plunder, it is true; if the settlers of the Hampshire Grantswere to be driven incontinently from their homes as Ten Eyck and theGovernor declared, somebody must benefit by the circumstance, and thesheriff's men hoped to be of the benefited party. But this armedopposition was disheartening. When the chorus of groans rose from thesurrounding forest, his men as well as himself, knew that they hadfallen into ambush, and this thought troubled the Yorkers greatly.

  From the top of the ridge 'Siah Bolderwood had heard much of thecontroversy at the door of the Breckenridge house and as the reallyserious moment approached the old ranger was blessed with a suddeninspiration. He sprang forward and seizing Enoch Harding by the collardragged him to his knees and whispered a command in his ear. "Quick, youyoung snipe you!" he exclaimed, as Enoch prepared to obey. "Run like thewind--and don't let 'em see you or you may get potted!"

  Enoch was off in an instant, trailing his gun behind him and stoopinglow that the passage of his body through the brush might not be noted.He got the house between him and the sheriff's column and soon reachedthe side of the road where the other settlers in ambush were stationed.He found their leader and whispered Bolderwood's message to him.Instantly the man caught the idea and the word was passed down thestraggling line. Enoch did not return but waited with these men, whowere nearer the enemy, to see the matter out.

  The sheriff was on the verge of giving the command to break down thedoor of the besieged house when suddenly a wild yell broke out upon theridge above and was taken up by the settlers in the brush by theroadside. It was the warwhoop--the yell which originally incited the redwarriors to action and was supposed to strike terror to the hearts oftheir enemies. The shrill cry echoed through the wood with startlingsignificance. At the same instant every man's cap was raised upon hisgun barrel and thrust forward into view of the startled Yorkers, whilethe settlers themselves showed their heads, but nearer the ground. Onlyfor a moment were they thus visible; then they dropped back into hidingagain.

  But the effect upon the sheriff's unwilling army was paralyzing. TheYorkers thought that twice as many men were hidden in the forest as werereally there, for the hats on the gun barrels had seemed like heads,too. They thought every man in Bennington--and indeed, as far east asBrattleboro and Westminster--must have come to defend JamesBreckenridge's farm, and they clamored loudly to return to theTwenty-Mile Line and safety.

  In vain the sheriff fumed and stormed, threatening all manner ofpunishment for his mutinous troops; the army was determined to a man tohave no conflict with the settlers of the Disputed Ground. Like "thenoble Duke of York" in the old catch-song familiar at that day, SheriffTen Eyck had marched his seven hundred or more men up to JamesBreckenridge's door only "to march them down again!" 'Siah Bolderwood'sidea had taken all the desire for fight out of the Yorkers, and aftersome wrangling between the personal attendants of the sheriff and thevolunteer army, the whole crew marched away, leaving the farm to theundisputed possession of its rightful owner.

  When the Yorkers departed the little garrison of the house appeared andcheered lustily; but the men in the woods did not come out of hidinguntil the last of the enemy had disappeared, for they did not wish theinvaders to know how badly they had been deceived regarding theirnumbers. By and by Bolderwood and his men marched down from the ridgeand 'Siah was congratulated upon his happy thought in bringing about theconfusion of the Yorkers.

  "You've a long head on those narrow shoulders of yours, neighbor,"declared Ethan Allen, striking the old ranger heartily on the back."That little wile finished them. And this is the boy I saw trailingthrough the bushes, is it?" and he seized Enoch and turned his faceupward that he might the better view his features. "Why, holloa, mylittle man! I've seen you before surely?"

  "It is poor Jonas Harding's eldest lad, neighbor Allen," Bolderwoodsaid. "He's the head of the family now, and bein' sech, had to comealong to fight the Yorkers."

  "I remember your father," declared Allen, kindly. "A noble specimen ofthe Almighty's workmanship. I stopped a night with him once at hiscabin--do you remember me?"

  As though Nuck could have forgotten it! His youthful mind had made EthanAllen a veritable hero ever since, placing him upon a pedestal beforewhich he worshipped. But he only nodded for bashfulness.

  "You'll make a big man, too," said the giant. "And if you can shootstraight there'll be plenty of chance for you later on. This is only thebeginning, 'Siah," he pursued, turning to Bolderwood and letting hishuge hand drop from Enoch's head. "There will be court-doings,now--writs, and ejectments, and enough red seals to run the King's courtitself. But while the Yorkers are red-sealing us, we'll blue-sealthem--if they come over here, eh?" and he went off with a great shout oflaughter at his own punning.

  The men were minded to scatter but slowly. All were rejoiced that thebattle had been a bloodless one; yet none believed the matter ended. Thefiasco of the New York sheriff might act as a wet blanket for the timeupon the movements of the authorities across the line; but the landspeculators were too numerous and active to allow the people of theGrants to remain in peace. Parties of marauders might swoop down at anytime upon the more unprotected settlers, drive them out of their homes,destroy their property, and possibly do bodily injury to the helplesspeople. Methods must be devised to keep these Yorkers on their own sideof the disputed line. Those settlers, such as the widow Harding, whowere least able to protect themselves, must have the help of theirneighbors. The present victory proved the benefit to be derived fromconcerted action. Now, in the flush of this triumph, the leaders wentamong the yeomanry who had gathered here and outlined a plan forpermanent military organization. In all the colonies at that day,"training bands," or militia, had become popular, made so in part by theinterest aroused by the wars with the French and Indians. Many of themen who joined these military companies did not look deeply into theaffairs of the colonies, nor were they much interested in politics; buttheir leaders looked ahead--just as did Ethan Allen and his conferees inthe Grants--and realized that an armed yeomanry might some time becalled upon to face hirelings of the King.

  "Even a lad like you can bear a rifle, and your mother will spare youfrom the farm for drill," Allen said, with his hand again on Enoch'sshoulder, before riding away. "I shall expect to see Jonas Harding's boyat Bennington when word is sent round for the first drill." And Enoch,his heart beating high with pride at this notice, promised to gain hismother's permission if possible.

  Bolderwood had already gone, and Lot Breckenridge detained Enoch untilafter the dinner hour. Lot would have kept him all night, but the latterknew his mother would be anxious to see him safe home, and he started anhour or two before sunset, on the trail which Bolderwood and he hadfollowed early in the morning. Being one of the last to leave JamesBreckenridge's house, he traveled the forest alone. But he had nofeeling of fear. The trails and by-paths were as familiar to him as thestreets of his hometown are to a boy of to-day. And the numberlesssounds which reached his ears were distinguished and understood by thepioneer boy. The hoarse laugh of the jay as it winged its way home overthe tree-tops, the chatter of the squirrel in the hollow oak, the suddenscurry of deer in the brake, the barking of a fox on the hillside, wereall sounds with which Enoch Harding was well acquainted.

  As he crossed a heavily shadowed creek, a splash in the water attractedhis particular attention and he crept to the brink in time to see a pairof sleek dark heads moving swiftly down the stream. Soon the headsstopped, bobbed about near a narrow part of the stream, and fi
nally cameout upon the bank, one on either side. The trees stood thick togetherhere, and both animals attacked a straight, smooth trunk standing nearthe creek, their sharp teeth making the chips fly as they worked. Theywere a pair of beavers beginning a dam for the next winter. Enoch markedthe spot well. About January he would come over with Lot, or with RobbieBaker, stop up the mouth of the beaver's tunnel, break in the dome ofhis house, and capture the family. Beaver pelts were a common article ofbarter in a country where real money was a curiosity.

  But watching the beavers delayed Enoch and it was growing dark in theforest when he again turned his face homewards. He knew the path wellenough--the runway he traveled was so deep that he could scarce miss itand might have followed it with his eyes blindfolded,--but he quickenedhis pace, not desiring to be too late in reaching his mother's cabin.Unless some neighbor had passed and given them the news of the victoryat James Breckenridge's they might be worried for fear there hadactually been a battle. Deep in the forest upon the mountainside theresounded the human-like scream of a catamount, and the memory of hisadventure of the morning was still very vivid in his mind. He began tofear his mother's censure for his delay, too, for Mistress Hardingbrought up her children to strict obedience and Enoch, man though hefelt himself to be because of this day's work, knew he had no businessto loiter until after dark in the forest.

  He stumbled on now in some haste and was approaching the ford in thewide stream near which he had shot the doe, when a flicker of light offat one side of the trail attracted his attention. It was a newly kindledcampfire and the pungent smoke of it reached his nostrils at the instantthe flame was apparent to his eyes. He leaped behind a tree and peeredthrough the thickening darkness at the spot where the campfire wasbuilt. His heart beat rapidly, for despite the supposed peacefulness ofthe times there was always the possibility of enemies lurking in theforest. And the settlers had grown wary since the controversy with theYorkers became so serious.

  Enoch was nearing the boundaries of his father's farm now and ever sinceSimon Halpen had endeavored to evict them and especially since JonasHarding's death, the possibility of the Yorkers' return had been anightmare to Enoch. Lying a moment almost breathless behind the tree, hebegan to recover his presence of mind and fortitude. First he freshenedthe priming of his gun and then, picking his way cautiously, approachedthe campfire. Like a shadow he flitted from tree to tree and from brushclump to stump, circling the camp, but ever drawing nearer. With theinstinct of the born wood-ranger he took infinite pains in approachingthe spot and from the moment he had observed the light he spent nearlyan hour in circling about until he finally arrived at a point where hecould view successfully the tiny clearing.

  Now, at once, he descried a figure sitting before the blaze. The man hadhis back against a tree and that is why Enoch had found such difficultyat first in seeing him. He was nodding, half asleep, with his cap pulleddown over his eyes, so that only the merest outline of his face wasrevealed. It was apparent that he had eaten his own supper, for therewere the indications of the meal upon the ground; but it looked asthough he expected some other person to join him. The wind began to moanin the tree-tops; far away the mournful scream of the catamount brokethe silence again. The boy cast his gaze upward into the branches,feeling as though one of the terrible creatures, with which he hadengaged in so desperate a struggle that very morning, was even thenwatching him from the foliage.

  A HAND WAS PRESSED OVER HIS LIPS]

  And he was indeed being watched, and by eyes well nigh as keen as thoseof the wild-cat. While he stood behind the tree, all of half a gun-shotfrom the camp, a figure stepped silently out of the shadows and stood athis elbow before the startled lad realized that he was not alone. Avice-like hand seized his arm so that he could not turn his rifle uponthis unexpected enemy. Before he could cry out a second hand was pressedfirmly over his parted lips. "No speak!" breathed a voice in EnochHarding's ear. "If speak, white boy die!"

  It was Crow Wing, the young Iroquois, and Enoch obeyed. He found himselfforced rapidly away from the campfire and when they were out of ear-shotof the unconscious stranger, and not until then, did the grasp of theIndian relax. "What do you want with me?" Enoch demanded, in a whisper.The other did not reply. He only pushed the white boy on until they cameto the ford of the creek where Enoch and 'Siah Bolderwood had crossedearly in the day. There Crow Wing released him altogether and pointedsternly across the river. "Your house--that way!" he said. "Go!"

  "Who is that man back yonder?" cried Enoch, angrily. "You can't make medo what you say----"

  Crow Wing tapped the handle of the long knife at his belt suggestively."White boy go--go now!" he commanded again, and in spite of his beingarmed with a rifle while the Indian had no such weapon, Enoch feltconvinced that it would be wiser for him to obey without parley.Although Crow Wing could not have been three years his senior, he wascertainly the master on this occasion. With lagging step he descendedthe bank and began to ford the stream. He glanced back and saw theIndian, standing like a statue of bronze, on the bank above him. When hereached the middle of the stream, however, he felt the full ignominy ofhis retreat before a foe who was not armed equally with himself. Whatwould Bolderwood say if he told him? What would his father have done?

  He swung about quickly and raised the rifle to his shoulder. But theIndian lad had gone. Not an object moved upon the further shore of thecreek and, after a minute or two of hesitation, the white boy stumbledon through the stream and reached the other bank. He was angry withhimself for being afraid of Crow Wing, and he was also angry that he hadnot seen the face of the stranger at the campfire. It must have beensomebody whom Crow Wing knew and did not wish the white boy to see.Enoch Harding continued his homeward way, his mind greatly disturbed bythe adventure and with a feeling of deep resentment against the Indianyouth.