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CHAPTER XXV
A STORM ON LAKE ONTARIO

When the soldiers under General Prideaux reached Oswego they found the fort in ruins. Three years before the French and Indians under Montcalm had won a victory there and before leaving had burnt up and otherwise destroyed every building, large and small, and also every ship in the harbor, and had taken away all the guns and ammunition and a large part of the possessions of the settlers in that vicinity. On every side were heaps of ashes and charred logs, some overgrown with weeds, and in the midst of these stood a huge wooden cross, erected by Piquet, the French priest, and on a tall pole hung the tattered arms of France. The scene was one of unutterable loneliness and desolation, and it must be confessed that something like a shiver went over Dave as he gazed upon it.

"This shows what war will do," he said, to a comrade standing near. "Think of how prosperous a trading post Oswego was three years ago, and now look at this. Why even a wild animal would shun the spot – after those skeletons were picked clean."

"True for you, lad," was the answer. "But I don't think it will be that way again. General Prideaux means business, and so does General Johnson, and the French will have to do some tall fighting to win out now."

The first of the soldiers arrived on the site of Oswego about the middle of June, and it was only a few days later the remainder of the army came up from Lake Oneida bringing the stores and baggage, including a great many barrels of pork, which in those days formed a staple article of soldiers' diet.

Dave was anxious to see Henry and Barringford again, and when the last of the soldiers came up and went into camp not far from the lake and the river, he hurried in that direction as soon as he was off duty.

"Oh, Sam!" he cried, when he caught sight of the old frontiersman and saw the serious look on his face. "Where's Henry?"

"I can't tell you, Dave."

"Can't tell?"

"No, lad. After we went ashore at Lake Oneida he disappeared like as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up."

"But – but didn't you look for him?"

"Dave you oughter know better nor to ask sech a question. Look? Why, I tramped miles an' miles a-looking fer him, – an' fer them Injuns. But the redskins got away, and we couldn't find Henry, alive or dead."

"Then they must have taken him prisoner."

"Thet's it, unless – "

"Unless what, Sam?"

"Wall, I don't like to say, lad. Let us hope fer the best."

"You mean they might have killed him and thrown his body into the lake?"

"Yes."

Dave drew a long breath. The thought was a horrible one. He shook his head dismally.

"You didn't hear any shots, or any struggling?"

"Nary a sound, Dave. We went along as silently as ghosts and with our ears wide open. I know Henry was along when we moved up the lake, but I missed him jest as soon as we turned to come back. He had been next to the lake front and I walked over to find out if he had seen anything of the Injuns. But he was gone – and that was the end of it – although I and the others hunted around until we simply had to give it up and come back to report."

It was dismal news, and all Barringford could do did not cheer Dave up. "First it was little Nell and now it's Henry," he said, soberly. "If neither of them return what will Aunt Lucy say?"

As soon as the army was settled at Oswego General Prideaux had all of the batteaux and other boats made ready for the trip along the lake shore to Fort Niagara, a distance of about a hundred and thirty miles. In the meantime Colonel Haldimand was placed in charge of the garrison to be left at Oswego, with orders to rebuild the fort, and otherwise strengthen the place, as speedily as possible. Haldimand, who during the Revolution became Governor of Canada, was an able and energetic officer, and went about the work assigned to him without delay. Soon the ring of the axe was heard in the forest and the big timbers for the new fort were being brought out as fast as the pioneer-soldiers could handle them.

Prideaux had expected to embark for Niagara within a few days after reaching Oswego where he was joined by Johnson with his seven hundred Indians, but numerous delays occurred and it was not until the first of July that his novel flotilla of boats, batteaux, and canoes set sail westward over the mighty waters of Lake Ontario. All the time that the army was at Oswego a sharp lookout was kept for the possible appearance of French ships of war, or of transports carrying French troops, but none came in sight.

"Not a sail in sight anywhere," said Dave to Schnitzer one day, when the two were at the beach. "If the French are near they are keeping themselves well hidden."

"Maybe da vos vaiting for a chanct to cotch us nabbing," answered the Dutch soldier. "Dose Frenchers peen mighty schmart let me tole you. Of da don't vos schmart den dis var vouldn't peen so long vinded, hey?"

"Oh, they know what they are doing, no doubt of that. I wouldn't be surprised if they attacked Colonel Haldimand after we go away."

"Yah, dot is it, Tave – da vaits bis ve peen sphlit by two bieces und den da fights first one bard und den der udder bard – und ve peen licked our poots out, hey – maybe – of da peen schmart enough." And Hans Schnitzer nodded his shaggy head vigorously.

Dave had been wondering if he would be ordered to remain behind with those left at Oswego or if he was to go forward to Fort Niagara. He half wished he would be told to remain behind, that he might have a chance to go in search of Henry.

But this was not to be, and a few days later came word that the company to which he belonged would go forward under General Prideaux.

"But I'm a-going to be left behind," said Sam Barringford. "I've got orders to take charge o' the sharpshooters as is going to watch out here while Colonel Haldimand rebuilds the old fort."

"Oh Sam, if you stay behind, won't you keep an eye open for Henry?"

"To be sure I will, lad – thought o' thet myself."

"Do you think those Indians are still sneaking around?"

"More'n likely not, Dave. Not if they war French spies. They've gone across the lake to give warning of our coming."

"If they had Henry a prisoner they would take him along."

"Yes, – or worse."

Dave shook his head sadly, and went about his work, which was to see to the loading of two batteaux, that were piled high with utensils belonging to the culinary department of the army – for soldiers, like ordinary mortals, must eat and if they are not served properly there is apt to be a good deal of grumbling.

One day later the army was off, in a long string of batteaux and other craft stretching out a distance of over a mile. It was truly an imposing sight, for the leading batteau was flying the flag of England, and other banners were by no means lacking. There was music, too, to lighten up the hearts of the soldiers, and ringing cheers for good luck to the enterprise.

It was General Prideaux's plan to hug the shore of the lake, consequently the trip would be a little longer than if they sailed in a direct line from Oswego to what is now the coast town of Carlton. The reason for hugging the shore was, that the French might swoop down upon the flotilla at any moment when out of sight of land, whereas, if the English kept close to shore, they could at any moment turn into one of the numerous bays or creeks, and there hide or throw up a temporary defense.

The southern shore of Lake Ontario is to-day dotted with villages and towns, but when General Prideaux's army sailed along this coast it showed an almost unbroken front of gigantic timber, rough rocks and stretches of sandy waste. Here and there was an Indian village, but the warriors were away, either with the French or the English.

Much to Dave's disgust Lieutenant Naster was placed in charge of the batteau, which contained besides Dave several soldiers who were hardly known to our young soldier. When Naster saw Dave, he scowled but said nothing.

"He has it in for me, that's certain," thought Dave. "I'll have to keep my eyes wide open."

"I want none of your laziness," said the lieutenant, to Dave, an hour later, and when all hands were resting on the oars. "I see you are not pulling as well as the others, and it won't do."

"I thought I was doing my full share," answered Dave.

"Hi don't answer back, boy! Do as I tell you!"

In a few minutes the rowing was resumed. One of the soldiers, unnoticed by the lieutenant, winked at Dave.

"He's a regular bear," he whispered. "Look out, or he'll make trouble for you."

"He's tried to make trouble for me before," answered Dave, in an equally low tone. "He doesn't like me because I stood up for old Campwell when he was browbeating the man."

"Oh, so you were the soldier who interfered, eh? I heard of that case. They say – "

"Silence over here, and attend to your rowing!" shouted the lieutenant from his comfortable seat in the stern. "Don't you see how we are lagging behind? Pull up there, all of you, or somebody will get the lash to-night, instead of his supper."

After that but little was said, and the rowing continued steadily until noon, when a brief halt was made for dinner. The lake was almost like glass, so that while some of the batteaux drifted together, no damage was done.

"If I know anything about it, this weather won't last," said one of the soldiers, after a careful survey of the sky.

"It looks like a storm to me, too," said Dave. "But it may blow around before it reaches here."

Yet the day passed without the storm coming, and that night the occupants of the batteaux slept soundly on the shore of a tiny bay opening up from the lake. At sunrise the army was again in motion and once again the flotilla continued its journey westward.

Several soldiers who had been taken sick on the march to Oswego had been left behind, but now others were overcome by the heat and the glare of the sun on the water, and one batteau had to be turned into a floating hospital. At one time Dave himself felt dizzy, but he said nothing, for he well knew that Lieutenant Naster would have no mercy on him, sick or well.

The sun had come up over the water like a great ball of fire and by nine o'clock the day promised to prove more than usually hot. But an hour later the clouds began to show up in the west and it became rapidly cooler.

"We're in for that storm now," said a soldier to Dave. "See how the wind is rising."

"Yes, and we are pretty far out from land now, too," added Dave. "I reckon we ought to turn in."

One of the soldiers appealed to the lieutenant, but he would not listen to advice. "Straight ahead," he roared. "You only want to go in that you may rest. We have no time to fool away. A little rain won't hurt anybody."

The wind rapidly increased in violence, and soon the black clouds overshadowed the sun, making the surface of the lake dark and ominous looking. Then came a gust that whirled the batteau around in spite of all the rowers could do to keep the craft up to the wind. The waves dashed up, drenching everybody.

"Oh!" cried Lieutenant Naster, for he had received some of the water full in the face. "Steady there, you fools! Don't let her swing around!"

"If we don't pull to shore we'll be swamped!" cried one of the soldiers. "I was a sailor for six years and I know this is going to be a big blow. Give the order, lieutenant, unless ye want to see bottom putty quick."

At these words Lieutenant Naster turned pale. "Very well, turn about and pull for the shore," he said. "And don't lose time," he added, as he saw the white caps chasing madly toward them.

With much difficulty the clumsy batteau was swung around and the journey shoreward began. But valuable time had been lost, and now the rain came down in a deluge, shutting out the view on every side. The wind whistled a gale and in the midst of the downpour came a vivid flash of lightning and a crack of thunder that was deafening.

As much for his own safety as for the others, Dave bent to his oar with a will, pulling with might and main. The sight of land was now shut out and the task was therefore a blind one. On they went, the wind blowing the waves into the batteau until the craft was speedily in danger of becoming waterlogged.

"Bail her out!" roared the lieutenant, who was now as much alarmed as anyone. "Bail her out, or we'll go to the bottom!"

"Bail her out yourself;" came a voice from the front of the craft. "None of us can leave the oars. Pull away, boys, – it's our only chance!"

It was the man who had been a sailor who spoke, and all the other soldiers obeyed him, leaving the lieutenant to take up an iron dipper and begin the bailing as best he could.

A moment later came a wild cry from beyond the batteau. "Look out, you are running into us! Back water!" The cry was followed by a thump and a crash and half a dozen yells of pain, and then ensued a wild scramble for safety, for two of the batteaux had come together with such force that the bottom of each was broken away on one side, letting in the lake water with a rush.

When the collision came Dave was thrown over backward, into the lap of the soldier who had once been a sailor. Each clutched the other, and both struggled to their feet wondering what would happen next. Then the batteau began to settle and in a moment more Dave found himself struggling in the waters of Lake Ontario.

CHAPTER XXVI
THE ATTACK AT OSWEGO

"I wonder when this will end?"

Such was the question which Henry asked himself, after he had been a prisoner of the Indians for a week and more.

The warriors had marched him to the eastern shore of the lake, and here he had been left in charge of two young warriors while the balance of the party had taken canoes and disappeared in the direction of Frontenac.

The days had passed slowly. The warriors had found something of a cave fronting the lake shore and Henry had been placed in this. His hands were bound behind him almost constantly, they being released only when he was eating or when both of his captors were at hand with their guns to watch him.

The young soldier often wondered what had become of Sam Barringford and the others who had been in the party that had landed on the shore of Lake Oneida. Had they too been captured and carried off, or had they been killed?

"Sam ought to have been able to follow their trail," he reasoned. He did not know that the trail had been followed as far as the stream where the Indians had first brought forth their hidden canoes.

In the meantime the Indians had gone to Saint Luc de la Corne and explained the situation to him. The French commander at once gathered together twelve hundred men, consisting of Canadian pioneers and Indians, and set out to do the English battle. He felt that a force would be left behind at Oswego and this he determined to annihilate as soon as General Prideaux had gone on with the main portion of the English army.

The coming of over a hundred Indians to the camp on the lake front surprised Henry and he wondered what was in the wind. But he soon found out, for several of the newcomers could talk English and they did not hesitate to speak of the contemplated attack on Colonel Haldimand's command, and of their high hopes of again laying Fort Oswego in ashes and scalping all who should remain to defend it.

After hearing this talk Henry burnt with a desire to obtain his freedom and warn Haldimand of what was coming. For this purpose he resorted to a ruse which worked better than he anticipated. He pretended to be very sick and whenever the Indians came near groaned dismally and put his hand to his head and then to his breast as if in intense pain.

At first the warriors paid no attention, for they did not care how much he suffered. But after releasing him during meal time, they grew careless about tying him up again, and left him to roll upon the ground as he pleased. He now pretended to be sicker than ever and crawled over to a nearby pool of water, where he bathed his head and then lay down as if utterly exhausted.

Behind the pool was a clump of bushes, and back of this a stretch of dense timber. Once in the timber he felt that he could hide until nightfall and then make his way down the lake shore in the direction of Fort Oswego. Perhaps he might even find a canoe, for the Indians had a large number of these craft, hidden in various coves and creeks.

Henry had to move with extreme caution, for he realized that one mistake might cost him his life. Once or twice he saw the warriors gaze toward him and each time he led them to believe that he was in as great a pain as ever.

Presently there was a shouting at the lake front, announcing the arrival of more Indians, and all of the warriors on land looked in that direction. Now was his chance, and with the swiftness of a deer released from a trap he leaped across the pool and dove into the clump of bushes. He did not stop, but at the risk of scratching himself in a dozen places, tore his way along into the timber and went on and on, pell-mell, fetching up against more than one tree and tripping over one big root after another. Once he went into a hole up to his knee and came close to breaking his leg, which, in the end, would undoubtedly have cost him his life. But he freed himself and did not stop but continued his course, limping deeper and deeper into the forest.

A yell of rage told him that his escape was discovered, and soon he heard several Indians thrashing around through the brushwood, while others spread out for a search through the forest. There was no doubt but that they meant to re-take him were such a thing possible.

"But they shan't do it," he muttered, through his set teeth. "I must get away somehow!"

When half a mile had been covered he was surprised to find himself within sight of the lake. At first he imagined that he had gone around in a circle and brought up at the point from which he had started, but soon he saw that the spot was a strange one, some distance south of the Indian camp.

His injured shin hurt him not a little and he was glad enough to plunge into the water up to his knees. He had come out on a little bay and here several overhanging trees and bushes afforded him good shelter. He secreted himself as best he could and awaited developments.

The Indians came within a hundred yards of the spot, but no closer, and before nightfall he was left entirely alone. By this time the scraped shin felt better, and he waded out to the lake proper, the water being scarcely up to his knees.

As night drew on, he could see a faint light up the shore, which told him where the Indian camp lay. All around him was silent and deserted, only the occasional cry of a bird breaking the stillness.

Henry felt that he must get some sleep, or he would be unable to undertake the journey toward Oswego in the morning, and with this in view sought out a comfortable spot where he might lie down. Nothing came to disturb him during the night, and by sunrise he arose feeling decidedly refreshed.

A storm was approaching – the same which was to prove so disastrous to the batteaux on the lake, and Henry had not covered many miles along the lake front when it burst on him in all of its fury, causing him to seek shelter under a cliff of rocks some distance away from the water. The lightning was sharp and he heard more than one tree in the forest go down with a crash. But the storm did not last in that vicinity, and in two hours it was over, although the drifting clouds still hid the sun from view.

The storm proved a great blessing to Henry, for after it was over he came across two squirrels that had been killed by it and also a number of birds. He had not had a mouthful to eat for twenty-four hours and he now set about making himself a fire and cooking the game. He had a flint and steel, which the Indians had not taken from him, and soon he had a blaze in a hollow, where it would not be noticed.

Having satisfied the cravings of his stomach, he renewed his journey along the lake front. The storm had washed a number of things ashore and presently he came upon an upturned Indian canoe, one of the rougher sort, made of a hollowed-out log.

"Hullo, that's better than nothing," he told himself, and righted the canoe, although not without difficulty. There was also a paddle on the beach, and soon he was on board the craft and paddling southward with all the skill he could command.

As he moved over the waters of the lake he kept his eyes behind as well as in front of him, wondering if the Indians would discover what he was doing. But they were out of sight, nor did a single warrior show himself anywhere.

It was growing dark again when Henry brought his canoe to a sudden stop and then turned hastily shoreward. Far ahead he had seen another craft, holding two men. That they were whites he was sure, but whether French or English was still to be determined. He moved his canoe into a cove, and secreting himself in the bushes awaited the approach of the strangers.

Soon the boat came close enough for him to make out the voices of the newcomers. One voice sounded strangely familiar, and peering through the bushes Henry was overjoyed to recognize Sam Barringford, who was sitting in the bow of the boat, rifle in hand, while his companion was rowing.

"Sam! Sam!" he cried, as he rushed forward. "Oh, Sam, how glad I am to see you!"

"Well, by the eternal, ef it ain't Henry!" shouted the frontiersman, in almost equal joy. "This is dumb luck an' no mistake. Why, me and Gangley came out on purpose to see ef we couldn't find out what had become of ye! Are ye alone?"

"Yes."

"Any Injuns about here?"

"There are a number up the shore – about ten or fifteen miles from here."

The boat was turned into the cove and soon Henry and his old friend were shaking hands, and then the young soldier shook hands with Gangley, who was an old hunter from Pennsylvania. The youth told his story in full, to which the others listened closely.

"I reckon the best thing we can do is to git back and tell Colonel Haldimand how matters stand," said Barringford. "If the French are a-coming this way he'll want to know it."

The craft Barringford and Gangley occupied was large enough for three persons and soon Henry was on board. Then the boat was turned about and the trip to Oswego began.

On the way Barringford told about Dave's departure with the force under General Prideaux. He also asked if Henry had learned anything concerning little Nell.

"Not a word, although I questioned the Indians all I could," answered the youth.

Gangley was an expert at handling a small boat and the craft fairly flew through the water under his command and by the united efforts of those on board.

They were just coming in sight of the fort at Oswego when the sounds of distant firing reached their ears. At first there were a few scattering shots, followed, some minutes later, by a regular volley.

"The French have arrived!" cried Henry. "That's a regular battle!"

"Right you are, lad," returned the frontiersman. "See, there are their boats – a goodly number of 'em, too!"

"What shall we do?"

"Better land up the shore a bit and take to the woods. It won't do for us to show ourselves in the open down there – they'd pick us off in no time."

Gangley also agreed that this was best, and the boat was immediately turned toward shore. They leaped out without delay, and hiding the craft, proceeded without loss of time in the direction from whence the shots had come.