CHAPTER XXI
THE ESCAPE OF THE SPY
In sixteen hours 'Siah Bolderwood had traveled from his camp on theshore of Lake Champlain opposite the frowning walls of Fort Ticonderoga;when the long ranger was in a hurry he did not spare himself. Perhaps noother man in the Vermont wilderness could have covered so much groundafoot as he, within the time. But he set off now on his return journey,with nearly a dozen men at his heels, as fresh as though he had restedfor a night instead of for an hour. His muscles were seemingly of steeland his limbs of iron. He led at such a pace that Enoch Harding, whocame first behind him, could scarcely keep up with his stride and placehis feet, Indian fashion, in the prints of his friend's moccasins.
The company of scouts traveled in single file and, having no need tofollow the wood-road on which the army was marching, they soon left thatout of view. 'Siah found an Indian path which suited him far better thanthe broader trail, for it would bring them much sooner to the lake, andfor hour after hour he strode on with scarce a look behind him to seehow his companions kept up. The men he had chosen, save Enoch, weretried and trained woodsmen, with powers of endurance second only to hisown. And as for the lad whom he loved, he knew his high spirit andpride. Enoch Harding would not fall behind until the last ounce of hisstrength had been expended.
Finally the party reached a little stream and here the leader gave thesignal to halt. Enoch flung himself down on the short sward and fellasleep almost instantly. 'Siah looked down upon him in some pride."That's the stuff we make men of in this country," he said aloud. "Iknew his father as well as I know myself. The lad will be another JonasHarding."
"He'll hold us back if we've to keep up this pace, 'Siah," said one ofthe others, doubtfully.
"Nay, you're mistaken there, neighbor. You and I will travel until wefeel that it ain't best for us to go any furder. Enoch'll keep up tillhe drops. He won't hold us back."
And it was true. Others of the party cried "enough!" before theafternoon was over; but the youth, his lips pale and compressed and theperspiration fairly pouring from his limbs, would have died before heacknowledged that the pace was too great for him. At night 'Siah calledanother halt and they ate heartily of such provisions as they carriedand then lay down to rest. But 'Siah arranged for a guard. They werenearing the lake now and some ill-affected settler (there were severalfamilies of Tories near Champlain) might see them and wonder what such alarge party of armed men was doing here. If the news of the approach ofthe main army did not travel ahead, it would be more because of goodfortune than good management.
The party broke up into groups of two and three in the morning and wentdifferent ways to the shore. It was agreed that, where the settlers whoowned boats were known to be staunch Whigs, it would be safe to tellthem for what purpose their crafts were needed. But several boats wereowned by Tories and royalist sympathizers and these people must bedeceived for, although the scouts were doubtless well armed anddetermined enough to take the boats without saying "by your leave," sucha proceeding might be disastrous to the expedition.
'Siah Bolderwood chose Enoch as his companion and went himself towardthe home of a farmer who stoutly upheld the King and his ministers andwho had, in fact, held the title of his land from New York through allthe years of trouble between his neighbors and the Albany courts. Hishomestead, however, was in such an out-of-the-way place and so secludedthat the Green Mountain Boys had left him unmolested. Now Bolderwood wasdetermined to have the roomy canoe and a large bateau which he was knownto possess.
"But if the pesky critter gits an inkling of what we're up to, he'llstart for Old Ti--that he will!" the ranger said to Enoch. "We gotterget around him somehow. An' you leave it ter me. Ye better keep aout o'sight, I reckon, anyway; numbers might make the ol' codger suspicious."
So Enoch hid in the wood surrounding the clearing on the lake shorewhile his tall friend went toward the Tory's door. The old man, whodepended upon his nephew and a slave or two to do his work, was sittinglooking out across the lake. He was too far away to distinguish thebattlements of Ticonderoga, but he happened to be looking in thatdirection when Bolderwood presented himself. "Neighbor!" said thelatter, in a most friendly tone, "ye look hearty. What's the news?"
"Humph!" grunted the old man, staring at the Yankee shrewdly, "you'rethe feller that's been clearin' land above us yander, ain't ye?"
"That I can't deny, sir," responded the ranger. "An' jest for the sakeo' bein' neighborly, I'm down here ter arsk a favor."
"What is it?" grunted the old man, doubtfully.
"Why, my partner an' me have got a job to do, an' we're wantin' terborry one or both o' your boats," and he pointed down to the waterwhere, at the end of a little dock, the big flatboat and a long canoewere both moored. The old man could not see the boats without rising,but this he did as though to make sure that they were in their places."What ye want 'em for?" he asked. "An' howsumever, I can't lend ye morethan one o' them. We might want the other ourselves."
"What for?" asked Bolderwood, with the usual freedom of the community,and likewise proving himself a true Yankee by responding to one questionwith another.
"Might wanter go acrosst," said the farmer. "They say there's goin' terbe a lot o' reinforcements come up to Old Ti an' my nevvy and I want tosee 'em when they come."
"That's what we're wantin' the boats for--to go acrosst to the fort,"said 'Siah, with apparent frankness. "We've got some things to take overan' it's too fur to swim."
"I sh'd say it was!" exclaimed the Tory. "Then I take it the report thatreinforcements air comin' is true? Captain De la Place is buyin' cattleto feed the garrison?"
"I reckon he'll need a good many to feed all that's comin'," returnedBolderwood, non-committingly.
"Wall, I can't lend ye both, sir," declared the old man. "The canoewouldn't do ye much good, though 'tis a master big one. Seems ter methere's a good deal o' boatin' on the lake to-day. I seen two barges goalong north a'ready. Folks goin' fishin' I s'pose."
"Like enough--like enough," declared 'Siah hastily. "I'll git right downand take the bateau."
"Ain't ye got no one ter help ye?"
"I'll find my partner somewhere up the lake. He was lookin' for boats,too," returned the ranger.
He started to descend the bank and the old farmer arose and hobbledafter him. The instant he reached the brink where he could again see hislittle dock, he gave voice to an exclamation of disgust and anger."There it be! That Pomp is the most no 'count critter that ever eatsmoked hog. He was a usin' that canoe this mornin', an' now look at it!"
Seemingly the big canoe had slipped her moorings and was floatingrapidly around the wooded point near the dock. 'Siah might have beenastonished a little himself had he not had sharper eyes than the Tory.He saw that several articles of apparel lay in the canoe and herecognized Enoch Harding's old otter-skin cap. "Hold on, sir!" he cried."No matter about calling your hands from the field to git it. I'll havethat canoe in a jiffy."
He ran down the steep bank, unfastened the bateau, and with a powerfulshove sent it out into the lake. There were two long sweeps aboard andwith one of these 'Siah quickly propelled the heavy craft in the samedirection as the canoe--down the lake. The latter craft was scarcely outof sight of the old man when the bateau came along side. There wasnothing showing of the swimmer but his head and one hand which clutchedthe painter.
"Come aboard here, ye young rascal!" exclaimed the woodsman, with achuckle. "You'll have that whole spatter of Tories arter us. Couldn'tyou hide your clothes better 'n that? Might have left 'em ashore. If theold gentleman hadn't been blinder'n a bat at midday, he'd seen 'em."
"I didn't think of that," Enoch admitted, rather ruefully, climbing overthe bow of the canoe and then passing the thong to 'Siah, who fastenedit to the stern of the bateau. "I heard him say you couldn't have both,and I thought it too bad. This canoe will hold a dozen men."
"Wall, grab that sweep. Never mind your clothes just now. I warrantye'll keep warm enough till we git to the camp."
Here the ranger and Enoch found several of their friends beside Smithand Brown in waiting. The shore of the lake on this side had been fairlyscoured for bateaus. They dared not cross to the New York side to obtainboats, for by so doing they would be sure to excite suspicion. Withthose already obtained and some which their companions were now gonefor, the expedition must be content. The one mistake of their boldleader might bring about failure to the enterprise; yet so confidentwere they in Ethan Allen's ability that they firmly believed he wouldfind some way to overcome the lack of transportation. The forced marchof the scouts the day before, and for a good share of the night as well,had brought them to the lake long before the expedition itself couldpossibly reach the landing. Besides, the leaders would hold back untilafter dark. The attack upon the fortress must be accomplished under thecover of night. Bolderwood hoped, when he saw the meagre provision hewas able to make for transportation, that the army would arrive earlyenough to allow of two, and even three, voyages to be made from shore toshore, that the entire force might take part in the attack.
To Enoch, however, there was another matter of grave interest to beattended to when he and his tall friend arrived at the temporary camp.He wished to see the spy whom Bolderwood had mentioned to Ethan Allen.The ranger, too, looked sharply about the camp for the man. "Where'sthat slippery critter we captured the other night?" he asked. "If hegits away before Colonel Allen comes there'll be trouble for some ofus."
"We'd better have hung him up and so saved his food," grunted Brown,who, because the Yorkers had burned his house and driven his wife andchildren into the forest, had no love for anybody from the west side ofthe lake.
"You haven't let him go?" demanded Bolderwood.
"Nay, 'Siah. He's safe enough," returned Smith. "He's yonder behind thecamp. He'd be an eel or a sarpint to wriggle out of them thongs."
"A sarpint he is," declared Bolderwood, and strode away to look at theprisoner. Enoch followed him. There, sitting with his back against atree, his ankles fastened together and a strong deer thong wrapped abouthis body and about the tree itself, was Simon Halpen. When he saw theranger he scowled. When he observed the boy, however, his eyes flashedand the blood rushed to his face. "I reckon he knows ye, Nuck," said theranger.
"What are you going to do with me?" demanded the Yorker, with bravado."You'll all suffer for this outrage, I promise ye! Wait until I get toAlbany----"
"And you ever see Albany again you're a lucky man," said Bolderwood,satisfying himself that the bonds were tight. "The Colonel will see toye, my fine bird."
Enoch still remained before his enemy when the ranger went back to thecamp. The villain returned his glance boldly. "You are satisfied now, Isuppose?" he muttered.
"Not yet," replied young Harding.
"I shall be avenged!" declared Halpen, with a burst of wrath. "If I aminjured I have powerful friends who will punish you. I care nothing forEthan Allen----"
"A power higher than Colonel Allen will punish you," Enoch said,gravely.
"Pooh! I care nothing for your Whig courts. You had best do what you canfor me, Master Harding."
"I will leave you to the punishment you deserve. And you will receiveit."
"What have I done, I'd like to know?" exclaimed the prisoner. "It wasnot my fault that your house was burned and your mother and you placedin danger of your lives. It was a mistake."
"Was it a mistake when you crept to my camp the other night and fired atme as I lay sleeping beside the fire?" demanded the boy, sternly.
The red flush left the prisoner's cheek then. "What--what do you mean?"he gasped.
"You know well what I mean. See here!" Enoch showed him the hole in thebreast of his coat. "That was made by your bullet."
"The boy's life is charmed!" muttered Halpen.
"You had much better have used your gun-stock, Master Halpen. You wouldhave been surer to kill me then."
At this an expression of positive terror came into the prisoner'sfeatures. "I am not a murderer," he exclaimed. "You are mistaken if youthink that I fired at you."
"It is true I cannot prove it," Enoch replied. "But something else I canprove." He advanced a step nearer to the man. "Do you remember where youhid the moose hoofs, Simon Halpen?"
The prisoner shrank back against the tree and his eyes fairly glared upat the youth. "You--you----" he gasped.
"Yes. They are found. We now know how my poor father was killed. And youwere seen running from the place with his blood upon your clothes andupon your gun. Even your Albany courts would punish you for that!" Thenthe boy, unable to trust himself longer in the presence of the man whohad so injured him, hastily left the spot.
PUNISHMENT WAS NEAR AT HAND]
And the prisoner--how did he feel while tied to that tree, waiting forthe judgment which was to fall upon him for his crimes? No human beingbut the criminal himself can ever appreciate half the agony of thecondemned. It was long since discovered that the gift of speech wasgiven man to conceal his thoughts. To the man of strong will the face isa mask to conceal his feelings. And Simon Halpen was not a weakling. Hemay have betrayed some emotion when accused by Enoch; it was a smallpart only of what he felt.
He saw now, as plainly as he saw the lengthening shadows about him, thatpunishment for his crimes was near. These stern woodsmen, whose plan forattacking Ticonderoga he had discovered, were in no mood to trifle withhim. And what Enoch had told him was an assurance that though he mightlive to be brought before a court of justice, he must stand trial forhis crimes. Neither political influence nor his wealth could save himfrom the result of his offenses against the laws of man and God. He wasmade desperate by these thoughts.
He could see from his uncomfortable position the company of scouts busywith their supper. The ordinary observer would not have imagined thatthese men were the pioneers of two hundred and thirty Green MountainBoys and the Massachusetts and Connecticut troops. But Halpen knew thearmy of Americans was coming, and the object of their approach.Unwarned, Captain De la Place and his garrison might be surprised andoverwhelmed by these backwoodsmen. Halpen had no particular love for theKing, nor for the royal government; but he hated these men who haddefended their farms for so many years from the aggressions of his ownparty. Fear of punishment was reinforced by a desire to worst the GreenMountain Boys. He began to struggle against his bonds.
He had done that early in the day when he was first fastened to thetree; and the thongs had cut into his arms and breast. But now he feltthese abrasions not at all. He was mad to be free, and free he would be!The scouts paid him no attention. The sun was set and the forest grewdark. Would he escape he must accomplish the matter soon, or likelyBolderwood or young Harding would come to examine him again, and thenthe chance would be past.
At last, his flesh cut so deeply that blood ran from arms and body, hestretched the hide rope until he was able to wriggle out of it. Therewere then his ankles to untie. This he did in a very few moments. He wasfree! Rising to his knees, his limbs were so paralyzed by inaction thathe could not yet stand upright, he crept into the brush and, like theserpent that Bolderwood declared to be his prototype, glided away fromthe camp and down toward the brush-bordered shore of the lake.
With Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga Page 21