CHAPTER XXIII
THE DAWN OF THE TENTH OF MAY
Enoch Harding, after a moment of breathless agony beneath the water,struggled to the air again. The blow he had received so dulled hissenses that, had the canoe not fortunately been within the reach of hisarm, he would have a second time gone down into the depths of the lakeand possibly shared the fate of his enemy. But when his hand, flung outin that despair which is said to make a drowning person catch at even astraw, came in contact with the boat he seized it with a grip that couldnot be shaken. He had not the strength necessary to turn it over and toclimb into the craft; but fortunately rescue was near.
The sentinel had heard the voices out upon the water, and Simon Halpen'sdespairing scream as he went down for the last time, echoed from thewooded bluffs and reached the ears of the other Green Mountain Boys inthe neighborhood. The sentinel leaped into the big canoe which Enoch hadthat morning secured from the Tory farmer up the lake, and paddledrapidly toward the mouth of the cove. He suspected at once that theescaped spy was trying to cross the lake and that some one of hisbrother scouts had discovered him.
Suddenly the rescuer saw the upturned canoe and the almost exhausted boyclinging to it. He drove his own craft alongside and reaching quicklyseized Enoch's shoulder, bearing him up as the youth's own hands slippedfrom their resting-place on the keel of the canoe. "Courage--courage!"cried the scout, heartily. "You are not goin' down yet, Nuck Harding!Where's the other?"
"Gone--gone!" gasped Enoch, horrified by the death of Simon Halpen.
"Who was it?"
"The spy."
"Ah! I thought so. Well, we can't help the poor wretch now. Can you aidyourself at all? Brace up, man!"
"I'm--I'm all right," the youth declared, finally shaking off thefeeling which had numbed him. "Let me get a grip on your boat--there!Now you can paddle ashore. I'll not lose my hold this time."
"Right it is, then." The rescuer paddled slowly toward the bateaus. Whenhe came to the shore with the boy dragging behind him, Bolderwood andseveral other members of the company had arrived in answer to theexpiring scream of the drowned Yorker. Upon hearing the explanation ofthe affair the chief scout's face became grave indeed. "The poor wretchhas gone to his just desarts, I don't doubt," he said. "But sosudden--so sudden! It seems a turrible thing, friends, for a man to livethe life he lived and then to go before his Maker without nopreparation. He murdered poor Jonas Harding as sure as aigs is aigs, an'he tried twice ter kill the boy here, an' burned the widder's home. YetI'd wished him time to make his peace with God. It's an awful affair....But come!" he added, recovering himself, "there's something else to donow. We've got word from Colonel Allen. The troops are almost here. An'as good as we've done, there ain't ha'f enough boats to transport ourboys across the lake."
"There may be more comin' from the north, 'Siah," suggested Brown. "Y'know ye sent some of the boys up that way this arternoon."
"Small hope o' their gettin' anything----"
The chief scout's words were interrupted by a shout from one of theothers. Around the point which defended the little cove a boat wasappearing--or, rather, a lantern which betrayed the approach of a boat."Here's another!" was the cry. "Here's Major Skeene's big bateau--an'Major Skeene's nigger, too!" as the loud and angry voice of a black manwas heard across the calm water.
"The boys are having a hard time with our black-and-tan friend," saidBolderwood with a chuckle. Then he held up his hand for silence. "Hark!there's the ring of a horse's hoof--and the tramp of feet. The troopsare coming."
With a rattle of accoutrements a cavalcade of horsemen descended thebluff to the tiny cove. Enoch recognized Colonel Allen, Major Warner,the stranger, Arnold, and Colonel Easton, the commander of theMassachusetts and Connecticut forces. "Praise the Lord, 'Siah!" criedthe hearty voice of the Green Mountain leader. "We're arrived at last.'Twas like a task of Hercules to get here. And the night is already fargone. Where are your boats, man?"
"The bulk of 'em are right here, Colonel. We ain't got what I wished;but we've taken 'em from friend and foe, and here comes the last of myboys with Major Skeene's big raft and, if I ain't mighty mistaken, witha bag o' charcoal aboard that must ha' caused 'em consider'ble trouble."
The voice of the negro, who was the property of one of the wealthiestroyalists on the lake, became more and more vociferous as the bateauapproached the shore. "Wot de goodness youse shakaroons doin' yere? Weain't goin' land yere--no, sir! Dis ain't no place fur us. Who yo' t'inkcapen ob dis craft, anyway?"
"Oh, come along, old man! we wanter see ye!" shouted Bolderwood from theshore. "We won't eat ye up."
"Dis ain' no place for us, I tells yo'!" cried the darky, and as theoutline of the bateau and the objects upon it were now visible, theycould see the whites of his rolling eyes. "I ain' got nuttin' ter do widyo' shakaroons."
"Come on, there!" shouted Allen. "Gag that black rascal if he doesn'ttalk less and use his sweeps well."
"Who dat say fur ter gag me?" demanded the black, his teeth chattering."D'you knows who I is, sah? I'se Major Skeene's nigger, an' dis MajorSkeene's bateau, an' we gotter load o' freight fo' de castle."
"We've got another sort of freight for you, my man," said the GreenMountain leader. "So come ashore here and have no more words about it."
"But dese yere gemmen say dey goin' fishin' an' git me ter lend 'empassage!" cried the darky, in despair.
"And so we are going fishing," cried Ethan Allen. "And you shall go,too, my black friend. But it will be different fishing from any thatyou've experienced before. Out with you, now!" he added, as the bateaugrounded on the shore. "Get that freight off, men. What boats we have wemust use at once. Perhaps they can be returned for another party tocross after us. I'll never forgive myself if this oversight makes awreck of our expedition."
At that moment the man who, earlier in the evening, had crossed the lakefrom the fort, came and spoke to Ethan Allen. The leader of theAmericans listened attentively, slapping his thigh now and again withevident satisfaction as he heard the report of this faithful patriotwho, as Allen had previously said, dared enter the lion's jaws. He hadgone to Ticonderoga as a trader, had spent parts of two days in thefort, learning much that encouraged Allen in this desperate game he wasplaying. Although expecting additions to the garrison, Captain De laPlace had not yet received the reinforcements. The buttresses of thefort, too, were in a sad state of repair. Indeed, since the British hadswept the French from the lake, and with them driven the Hurons andAlgonquins into the northern wilderness, few if any repairs had beenmade upon Ticonderoga. The British had simply held it as a storehouseand the garrison was small. If the American troops now gathering uponthe eastern shore of Lake Champlain could once cross the water andapproach the fort unperceived, there was hope in the hearts of all thatthe stronghold would be captured and the garrison overcome without anygreat loss of life.
"The God of Battles has been with ye!" exclaimed Allen, when the man hadfinished his report. "And if He is with us, as I believe, yonder fortand all it contains shall be ours before sunrise.... But hasten! TellBaker to bring up his troops. Bolderwood, you and your scouts must goover first with us. Colonel Arnold, you will come in my boat if youwish. Major Warner, I leave you to assist our good friend Easton. Theboats shall return as soon as we have landed. Count the men who enterthese boats, gentlemen. The lake is calm; but do not overload the craft.We desire no accident to delay our landing on the other side."
Enoch Harding kept close to his friend, the old ranger, and wastherefore in one of the foremost boats. He was near Colonel Allen whenword was passed to that brave leader that those in the boats numberedbut eighty-three. "Eighty-three!" exclaimed the Green Mountain hero."And every man worth three red-coats. Once we get within those walls andI'll answer for them. Yet, sirs, I would that we had not been so longdelayed on the road, or that there were more bateaus to our hand."
"Shall the attack be given up--postponed till a more fittingoccasion--if we cannot get more across?" asked Arnold.
"Postponed!" cried Allen, his face darkening. "And pray tell me, sir,how can it be postponed? With the dawn our troops will be observed uponboth sides of the lake by those in the fort, or by Tories who willgladly run with warning to the red-coats. A blind kitten could see whatwe are about. Nay, Colonel Arnold; we have put our hands to the ploughand we'll cut a deep furrow or none at all!"
The bold courage of their leader inspired the handful of men with actualbelief in the successful outcome of the attack. There were no doubtsexpressed during the voyage across the lake. But when the landing wasmade, at the foot of the bluff on which the fort was built, the east wasalready streaked with pink. The dawn of the tenth of May, 1775--a day asmarked in American history as any which we celebrate--was at hand. Lessthan a hundred patriotic Green Mountain Boys had disembarked from theboats under the shadow of Ticonderoga. With the rising of the sun theirpresence would be discovered by the garrison of the fort, and oncewarned of their approach, the British could easily defend the works fromany attack of infantry. Circumstances seemed to presage at that momentthe defeat of the cause and utter humiliation of the participators inthe proposed attack.
The boats had left the shore and were no longer to be descried, for alight fog covered the water. There was no retreat. To hide this party onthe New York shore of the lake would be impossible. There were too manyTories about. Allen turned to his men. His voice was low, but intense,so that not only those around him, of which Enoch was one, but those ata distance heard every word uttered.
"Friends! we have come here for a single purpose. It is to advance uponyonder fortifications and capture them. We already outnumber thegarrison; I have certain information upon this point. But our companionsawait on the other shore to be transported to this spot and join in ourglorious work. In the east, however, is a warning we can all read.Before our friends can join us it will be day. We shall be observedhere; the garrison will be called to arms; our opportunity be lost. So,my brave companions, we cannot wait.
"I shall attack the fort at once. I force no man to an act which cautionforbids. If any of you doubt, fall out of the ranks and make good yourescape. But I am going forward and those who trust in God and to myleadership will advance at once!" He drew his sword and advanced a longstride before the column of anxious patriots. "Forward!" he cried, andinspired by the same spirit which animated their gallant leader, everyGreen Mountain Boy obeyed the command. They would have cheered, but themoment for anything of that kind was not opportune. The rising mistscarcely concealed the fortress above them.
With Colonel Arnold by his side the indomitable Allen climbed the slopeand approached the covered way which led into the fort. Not a word wasspoken. The sullen tramp of the column was all that broke the stillnessof the dawn. The sentinel placed here to guard the entrance--a matter ofmilitary rule rather than of precaution--leaned half asleep upon hismusket. Had he been alert the approach of the troops must have beendiscovered ere they were visible. But Providence willed that he,together with all the garrison, should be totally unsuspicious of theplanned attack of the provincials.
Suddenly, through the curling mist, appeared the head of the column. Thesentinel started from his dream and, scarce understanding what he saw,advanced his musket, crying: "Halt! who goes there?"
The Americans accelerated their pace while Ethan Allen, whirling hissword above his head, shouted: "Forward!" The attacking force reachedthe mouth of the covered way at a double-quick. Repeating the command tohalt the sentinel darted back, raised his weapon to his shoulder, andaiming full at the head of the commander of the Green Mountain Boys,pressed the trigger!
With Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga Page 23