With Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga

by W. Bert Foster

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE RISING OF THE CLANS

  As still as the shadow of the tree itself, Enoch lay with his facetoward the camp. Truly, had the forest not been so dark outside theradiance of the fire, he would have set out again upon his journey, andleft this spot which seemed to his troubled mind the lurking place ofsome serious danger. The minutes grew to an hour, however, without asuspicious sound reaching his ears. The usual noises of the forest--thehooting of the owl, the wolf's cry, the whimper of the wild-cat--wereall that disturbed the repose of the wilderness.

  But suddenly a dry twig snapped somewhere near him. The sound wentthrough the anxious youth like a shock of electricity. Its direction hecould not fathom; yet he was sure that the branch had crackled under thepressure of a foot. Somebody--or something--was approaching his fire,which now threw a dull red light across the forest glade. Enoch's eyeswere fastened first upon one blot of shadow and then another.Occasionally, too, he darted a glance over his shoulder, that theapproaching enemy might not come upon him unawares. Just at that timeEnoch would have given much for his rifle. Its presence would haveinspired him with a deal of courage. The very fact that the danger,which intuition rather than reason assured him was threatening, camefrom an unknown source, increased his fears. Perhaps Simon Halpen wasnot within a hundred miles of that identical spot. He who was visitingthe Tories and New York sympathizers of this region was possibly nothingworse than the agent of a land speculator. The youthful Green MountainBoy might be the only human being within five miles.

  But suddenly that happened which shattered this fallacious web ofthought in an instant. In the deep shadow of a thick clump of brush uponthe other side of the fire, the youth observed a movement--rather, aflash or glint of light. The fire, increasing unexpectedly by thefalling apart of one of the logs, had sent a penetrating ray of lightinto the thicket and there it glittered upon some polished piece ofmetal. Nothing else could have sent forth this answering gleam; it wasnot a pair of eyes; Enoch was confident of that.

  "He is there!" whispered the youth, and he crouched lower between theroots. His eyes, sharp as they were, could not penetrate the gloom ofthe brush clump, and the glittering metal had now disappeared. But hewas sure that the intruder was still there, reconnoitering the camp.Would he suspect the ruse? Would he observe that the body lying by thefire was simply a dummy? The youth was glad to see that the log with hisjacket and cap upon it lay almost entirely in the shadow and that onecoat-sleeve was stretched out upon the ground in a very natural mannerindeed.

  The moments that passed then were really terrible to young Harding. Heknew himself to be in no immediate danger from this mysteriousindividual who had crept near his camp. Surely, the man could not seehim where he lay shrouded in the darkness. Yet the thought that he wasbeing dogged by a deadly enemy possessed him, and the doubt as to whatthe unknown would do next, brought the sweat to his brow and limbs andset him trembling like one with an ague. Not a breath disturbed thebushes, yet he felt that the man was there--there across the opening inthe forest with his eyes fixed upon the supine figure near the fire. Hadhe not been warned by that mysterious feeling which had kept his eyesopen and his nerves alert he, Enoch Harding, might now be lyingunconscious with a deadly weapon trained upon him!

  And then the shot was fired! Enoch expected it, yet the explosion almostbetrayed him to the enemy. A gasp of terror left his lips. Incidentalwith the explosion he heard the thud of the ball as it penetrated thelog, and the shock of the impact actually stirred the dummy. It leapedupon the uneven ground!

  This fact was an awful accessory to the attempted murder. The inanimateobject had moved as a human being would if suddenly shot through a vitalpart. Perhaps the very gasp of horror Enoch had uttered reached the earsof him who had fired from ambush. At least the enemy did not seek tocome nearer. Indeed, the youth heard a crash in the brush and then theretreat of rapid footsteps. Having done, as he supposed, the awful deed,the murderer fled from the spot. Enoch had half risen to his feet. Nowhe sank upon his knees, clasped his hands, and thanked God for hispreservation.

  But he did not leave the sanctuary of the forest's shadow until he wasfully convinced that the villain who had made the attempt upon his lifewas far away. Then, still shaking from the nervous terror inspired bythe incident, he crept to the dying fire, secured his cap and coat, andwent back to the roots of the tree again until the growing glow abovethe tree-tops announced the rising of the moon. The sky grew brightrapidly and soon the moonbeams wandered among the straight, handsometrees and lay calmly upon the earth. He could once more see objectsabout him with almost the clearness of full daylight.

  Enoch arose and crossed to the clump of brush from which the treacherousshot had been fired. Through a break in the branches a flood ofmoonlight now silvered the earth at this point. He dropped upon one kneeand examined the ground closely. There were the marks of the feet of himwho had tried to shoot a helpless and sleeping human being. Enochshuddered and placed his fingers in the impression of the moccasins. Theincident that had just transpired was very real to him now.

  But he had not come here merely to assure himself of this fact. Thebullet in the log and the hole through his coat were sufficient, if hehad indeed doubted his eyes and ears before. He glanced down at thecoat. Oddly enough the bullet had torn its way through the stouthomespun directly over his heart!

  He glanced keenly now from side to side and saw that the enemy who madethe treacherous attack had come from the trail he had followed thatafternoon, and had returned in the same direction. He followed thefootsteps which led away from the brush clump. In doing this he wasquickly assured that the man who had shot at him was a white man. AnIndian walks with his toes pointed inward; this individual, even as heran, pointed his toes out. He was certain, therefore, that his enemy wasno wandering redskin.

  "It was Halpen--I am sure of it!" muttered the youth, striking into thetrail at last and continuing the journey upon which the darkness hadovertaken him. "He believes that he has killed me. I only hope he willnot be undeceived. But if he is ever in my power he shall suffer! What avillain the man is to follow our family and seek to murder and injureus! Oh, I hope this war which Colonel Allen says is surely beginning,will give us folks of the Grants our freedom from New York as well asfrom England. I fear men like Halpen more than I do the soldiers of theKing."

  Although he had not slept, Enoch was rested in body and he traveledquite rapidly. Before dawn he had aroused two settlers from theirslumbers, delivered Colonel Allen's message, and gone on his way. Heobserved no signs of his enemy of the night and was confident that theman had not continued on this trail, and was not, therefore, ahead ofhim. But he determined not to sleep in the forest during the remainderof his journey. He spent the day in alarming the farmers, circlingaround into the mountains before night and stopping at last with adistant pioneer who, with his two grown sons, promised to go back withhim to the rendezvous of Allen's army at Castleton in the morning.

  Enoch's mind was burdened with the mystery of Halpen's presence in theGrants at this time, however. Surely the Yorker could not be uponprivate business. He must have a mission from either the landspeculators, the New York authorities, or from those even higher. Theplans of the Colonials to attack Old Ti and seize the munitions of warstored there, might have been whispered in the ears of the Britishcommander, De la Place. Perhaps he had sent this man, who knew theterritory so well, to spy upon the Green Mountain Boys and theirfriends. Simon Halpen could do the cause afoot much harm by returningswiftly to the lake and warning the commander of Fort Ticonderoga. Enochbelieved Colonel Allen should know of Halpen's presence as soon aspossible; and he was determined to return at once, although he certainlydeserved rest and refreshment after his arduous journey through thewilderness. Therefore he urged the hurried departure of these threepioneers and before dawn the quartette started for Castleton.

  Meanwhile, at the camp of the Green Mountain Boys much was transpiringof importance to the expedition. The honor of capturi
ng Ticonderogahistory gives unconditionally to Ethan Allen and his handful offollowers; but the suggestion and preparations for the momentous taskwas divided between the Colonies of Connecticut, Massachusetts, and theHampshire Grants, or Vermont, as it was now beginning to be called. InApril the authorities of Connecticut raised three hundred pounds for theexpense of this expedition and Samuel H. Parsons, Silas Deane (afterwardone of America's representatives in Paris, but an arch enemy ofWashington) and Benedict Arnold, raised a handful of troops to sendnorth as a nucleus of that army which was expected to fall upon one ofthe strongest British forts in the country.

  At Pittsfield, in western Massachusetts, Colonel Easton had recruited alarger band of earnest patriots, and these, joined with the company fromthe more southern colony, made a very respectable force to march throughthe country to Bennington, where they arrived on May third. In themeantime at Albany Messrs. Halsey and Stephens had been pleading withthe New York Congress to grant permission for troops to be raised for,and money devoted to, the capture of the same fortresses as the NewEngland leaders had in mind. But, as we have seen, New York was at thattime lukewarm in the uprising of the colonies. Beside, the ContinentalCongress was to meet in seven days and it was judged better by thecautious Yorkers to wait and see what that body of representatives woulddo before any direct act of war was indulged in. Therefore New York losther opportunity of joining in one of the most glorious campaigns of theentire Revolutionary period.

  The Committee of Safety in Massachusetts, on the other hand, had decidedto act against Old Ti. Benedict Arnold, after stirring up the people tofever pitch in his own colony, Connecticut, went post-haste to Cambridgeand demanded a commission and authority to raise and lead the troopsagainst the Champlain forts. This first move of this much-hated man inthe Revolution savored of intrigue and self-seeking--as did most of hisother public acts. He desired the honor of commanding this expedition,and he was personally courageous enough to march up to the mouths of OldTi's guns if need be; but he had no personal following and could nothope to recruit men himself for the expedition. Nevertheless, heproposed to have the backing of a regular commission from theMassachusetts committee and thus supersede Colonel Easton. This desireon his part might have become a fact had it not been for one person whomBenedict Arnold did not take into consideration.

  The Massachusetts and Connecticut forces were guided to the camp of theGreen Mountain Boys while the leaders held a conference at the CatamountInn in Bennington. Colonel Easton was a truly brave man, and as such wasnot disturbed by petty jealousy. It was left to fate to decide whoshould command the expedition, and Ethan Allen having the largestpersonal following, was acclaimed commander. Greatly to Captain--nowMajor--Warner's disappointment his own men did not number as many as theMassachusetts troops; but he gracefully yielded second place to Eastonand accepted third himself. Plans for the march through the wildernesswere then carefully discussed and the leaders rode to Castleton andreviewed the raw recruits whose valor was, at a later day, to be sonoised abroad.

  The Green Mountain Boys, after four years of training, presented muchthe better appearance. And every man was practically a sharpshooter.What their rifles and muskets could do against the thick, if crumbling,walls of Ticonderoga, might with good judgment be asked; but they lackedneither courage nor faith in their leader. They would have followedEthan Allen through a wall of fire if need be to the line of the Britishfortifications. In their eyes he was invincible.

  On the morning of the start from Castleton the army was paraded--a fewhundred meagrely armed men to march against a fortress, to capture whichhad cost the British two expensive campaigns and the loss of some threethousand men. Their leaders harangued them, and Ethan Allen's promisesof glory and honor inspired quite as much enthusiasm as the commander ofany expedition could have wished. There had gathered to observe thedeparture many gentlemen of the countryside, and not a few of thoseindividuals who, at a time like this, always occupy a prominent position"on the fence"--that is, they having not yet decided which cause toespouse, waited to see whether the King's troops or the earnest patriotswould win.

  Among these spectators was a well set up man of military bearing, indeedgarbed in a military coat, with a cockade in his hat and his haircarefully dressed. He was quite a dandy, or a "macoroni" as theexquisites of that day were called both in London and in the Colonies.His dark visage and hawk-like eye commanded more than a passing glancefrom all and when, just before the troops started, he was observed towalk across the parade and calmly approach the group of officersstanding at one side, all eyes became fixed upon him.

  "Who is that haughty looking man yonder?" asked one spectator of hisneighbor who happened to be better informed than his friend, "and whatdoes he here?"

  "What he does here I know not," declared the individual thus addressed,"but his name I can tell you, having seen him in Hartford on severaloccasions. It is Benedict Arnold, a name quite well known--and notaltogether honorably--in that part of Connecticut."