Read Ebook: The American Practical Brewer and Tanner by Coppinger Joseph

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Ebook has 830 lines and 52759 words, and 17 pages

THE SUN OF SARATOGA.

ON WATCH.

"You will watch this hollow and the hill yonder," said the general, "and see that not a soul passes either to the north or to the south. Don't forget that the fate of all the colonies may depend upon your vigilance."

Then he left me.

I felt much discomfort. I submit that it is not cheering to have the fate of thirteen large colonies and some two or three million people, men, women, and children, depend upon one's own humble self. I like importance, but not when it brings such an excess of care.

I looked to Sergeant Whitestone for cheer.

"We are not the only men on watch to cut off their messengers," he said. "We have our bit of ground here to guard, and others have theirs."

Then he sat down on the turf and smoked his pipe with provoking calm, as if the troubles of other people were sufficient to take our own away. I decided to stop thinking about failure and address myself to my task. Leaving the sergeant and the four men who constituted my small army, I took a look about me. The hollow was but a few hundred yards across, sparse-set with trees and bushes. It should not be difficult to guard it by day, but by night it would be a different matter. On the hill I could see the walls and roof of the Van Auken house. That, too, fell within my territory, and for reasons sufficient to me I was sorry of it.

I walked part of the way up the hillside, spying out the ground and seeing what places for concealment there might be. I did not mean to be lax in my duty in any particular. I appreciated its full import. The great idea that we might take Burgoyne and his whole army was spreading among us, and it was vital that no news of his plight should reach Clinton and the other British down below us.

I came back to Sergeant Whitestone, who was still sitting on the ground, puffing out much smoke, and looking very content.

"I don't think we need fear any attempt to get through until night," he said. "The dark is the time for messengers who don't want to be seen."

I agreed with him, and found a position of comfort upon the grass.

"There's our weak point," said the sergeant, waving his hand toward the Van Auken house.

I was sorry to hear him say so, especially as I had formed the same opinion.

"But there's nobody up there except women," I said.

"The very reason," replied the sergeant.

I occupied myself for a little while tossing pebbles at a tree. Then I disposed my men at suitable distances along our line, and concluded to go up to the house, which going, in good truth, was part of my duty.

I was near the top of the hill when I saw Kate Van Auken coming to meet me.

"Good morning, Dick," she said.

"Good morning, Mistress Catherine," I replied.

It had been my habit to call her Kate when we were children together, but I could not quite manage it now.

"You are set as a guard upon us?" she said.

"To protect you from harm," I replied with my most gallant air.

"Your manners are improving," she said in what I thought rather a disdainful tone.

"I must search the house," I continued.

"You call that protecting us?" she said with the same touch of sarcasm.

"Nevertheless it must be done," I said, speaking in my most positive manner.

She led the way without further demur. Now I had every confidence in Kate Van Auken. I considered her as good a patriot as myself, though all her family were Tory. It did not seem to me to be at all likely that any spy or messenger of the British had reached the concealment of the house, but it was my duty to be sure.

"Perhaps you would not care to talk to my mother?" she asked.

"No!" I replied in such haste that she laughed.

I knew Madame Van Auken was one of the most fanatic Tories in New York colony, and I had no mind to face her. It is curious how women are more hard-set than men in these matters. But in my search of the house I was compelled to pass through the room where she sat, most haughty and severe. Kate explained what I was about. She never spoke to me, though she had known me since I was a baby, but remained rigid in her armchair and glowered at me as if I were a most wretched villain. I confess that I felt very uncomfortable, and was glad when we passed on to another room.

As I had expected, I found nothing suspicious in the house.

"I hope you are satisfied?" said Miss Van Auken when I left.

"For the present," I replied, bowing.

I rejoined Sergeant Whitestone in the hollow. He was still puffing at his pipe, and I do not think he had changed his position by the breadth of a hair. I told him I had found nothing at the house, and asked what he thought of the case.

"We may look for work to-night, I think," he replied very gravely. "It's most likely that the British will try to send somebody through at this point. All the Van Aukens, except the women, are with Burgoyne, and as they know the ground around here best they'll go to Burgoyne and have him send the men this way."

That was my thought too. Whitestone is a man of sound judgment. I sent two of our lads toward the house, with instructions to watch it, front and rear. It was my intent to visit them there later.

Then I joined Whitestone in a friendly pipe and found much consolation in the good tobacco. Kate's manner had nettled me the least bit, but I reflected that perhaps she was justified, as so many of her people were with Burgoyne, and, moreover, she was betrothed to Chudleigh, an Englishman. Chudleigh, an officer with Tryon in New York before the war, had come down from Canada with Burgoyne. So far as I knew he had passed safely through the last battle.

I had naught in particular against Chudleigh, but it seemed to me that he might find a wife in his own country.

The day was slow. I would rather have been with the army, where there was bustle and the hope of great things, but Whitestone, a pack of lazy bones, grunted with content. He stretched his long body on the ground and stared up at the sky through half-closed eyes. A mellow sun shone back at him.

Toward noon I sent one of the men to the house with a request for some small supply of provision, if they could spare it. We had food, a little, but we wanted more. Perhaps I ought to have gone myself, but I had my reasons. The man came back with two roast chickens.

"The old lady gave me a blessing," he said with a sour face, "and said she'd die before she'd feed rebels against the best king that ever lived; but the girl gave me these when I came out the back way."

We ate our dinner, and then I changed the sentinels at the house. Whitestone relapsed into his apparent lethargy, but I knew that the man, despite his seeming, was all vigilance and caution.

We looked for no happenings before dark, but it was yet a good four hours to set of sun when we heard a noise in the south and saw some dust rising far down the hollow.

Sergeant Whitestone rose quickly to his feet, smothered the fire in his pipe, and put his beloved companion in an inside pocket of his waistcoat.

"A party coming," I said.

"Yes, and a lot of 'em, too, I think," he replied, "or they wouldn't raise so much dust."

One of the men ran down from the hill where the view was better, and announced that a large body of soldiers was approaching. I called all the others and we stood to our arms, though we were convinced that the men marching were our own. Either the British would come with a great army or not at all.

The approaching troops, two hundred at least, appeared down the valley. The dust encased them like armor, and one can not tell what a soldier is by the dirt on his uniform. Whitestone took one long and critical look and then unbuttoned his coat and drew out his pipe.

"What are they?" I asked.

"Virginians," he replied. "I know their stride. I've served with 'em. Each step they take is exactly two inches longer than ours. They got it hunting 'possums at night."

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