CHAPTER XXI. BATTLE OF THE CHEMUNG

  Paul had been sleeping heavily, and the sharp, pealing notes of atrumpet awoke him at the sunburst of a brilliant morning. Henry wasstanding beside him, showing no fatigue from the night's excitement,danger, and escape, but his face was flushed and his eyes sparkled.

  "Up, Paul! Up!" he cried. "We know the enemy's position, and we will bein battle before another sun sets."

  Paul was awake in an instant, and the second instant he was on his feet,rifle in hand, and heart thrilling for the great attack. He, like allthe others, had slept on such a night fully dressed. Shif'less Sol, LongJim, Silent Tom, Heemskerk, and the rest were by the side of him, andall about them rose the sounds of an army going into battle, commandssharp and short, the rolling of cannon wheels, the metallic rattle ofbayonets, the clink of bullets poured into the pouches, and the hum ofmen talking in half-finished sentences.

  It was to all the five a vast and stirring scene. It was the first timethat they had ever beheld a large and regular army going into action,and they were a part of it, a part by no means unimportant. It wasHenry, with his consummate skill and daring, who had uncovered theposition of the enemy, and now, without snatching a moment's sleep, hewas ready to lead where the fray might be thickest.

  The brief breakfast finished, the trumpet pealed forth again, and thearmy began to move through the thick forest. A light wind, crisp withthe air of early autumn, blew, and the leaves rustled. The sun, swingingupward in the east, poured down a flood of brilliant rays that lightedup everything, the buff and blue uniforms, the cannon, the rifles, thebayonets, and the forest, still heavy with foliage.

  "Now! now!" thought every one of the five, "we begin the vengeance forWyoming!"

  The scouts were well in front, searching everywhere among the thicketsfor the Indian sharpshooters, who could scorch so terribly. As BraxtonWyatt had truly said, these scouts were the best in the world. Nothingcould escape the trained eyes of Henry Ware and his comrades, and thoseof Murphy, Ellerson, and the others, while off on either flank of thearmy heavy detachments guarded against any surprise or turning movement.They saw no Indian sign in the woods. There was yet a deep silence infront of them, and the sun, rising higher, poured its golden light downupon the army in such an intense, vivid flood that rifle barrels andbayonets gave back a metallic gleam. All around them the deep woodsswayed and rustled before the light breeze, and now and then they caughtglimpses of the river, its surface now gold, then silver, under theshining sun.

  Henry's heart swelled as he advanced. He was not revengeful, but he hadseen so much of savage atrocity in the last year that he could not keepdown the desire to see punishment. It is only those in sheltered homeswho can forgive the tomahawk and the stake. Now he was the very first ofthe scouts, although his comrades and a dozen others were close behindhim.

  The scouts went so far forward that the army was hidden from them by theforest, although they could yet hear the clank of arms and the sound ofcommands.

  Henry knew the ground thoroughly. He knew where the embankment ran, andhe knew, too, that the Iroquois had dug pits, marked by timber. Theywere not far ahead, and the scouts now proceeded very slowly, examiningevery tree and clump of bushes to see whether a lurking enemy was hiddenthere. The silence endured longer than he had thought. Nothing could beseen in front save the waving forest.

  Henry stopped suddenly. He caught a glimpse of a brown shoulder's edgeshowing from behind a tree, and at his signal all the scouts sank to theground.

  The savage fired, but the bullet, the first of the battle, whistled overtheir heads. The sharp crack, sounding triply loud at such a time, cameback from the forest in many echoes, and a light puff of smoke arose.Quick as a flash, before the brown shoulder and body exposed to take aimcould be withdrawn, Tom Ross fired, and the Mohawk fell, uttering hisdeath yell. The Iroquois in the woods took up the cry, pouring forth awar whoop, fierce, long drawn, the most terrible of human sounds, andbefore it died, their brethren behind the embankment repeated it intremendous volume from hundreds of throats. It was a shout that hadoften appalled the bravest, but the little band of scouts were notafraid. When its last echo died they sent forth a fierce, defiant noteof their own, and, crawling forward, began to send in their bullets.

  The woods in front of them swarmed with the Indian skirmishers, whoreplied to the scouts, and the fire ran along a long line through theundergrowth. Flashes of flames appeared, puffs of smoke arose and,uniting, hung over the trees. Bullets hissed. Twigs and bark fell, andnow and then a man, as they fought from tree to tree. Henry caught oneglimpse of a face that was white, that of Braxton Wyatt, and he soughta shot at the renegade leader, but he could not get it. But the scoutspushed on, and the Indian and Tory skirmishers dropped back. Then onthe flanks they began to hear the rattle of rifle fire. The wings of thearmy were in action, but the main body still advanced without firing ashot.

  The scouts could now see through the trees the embankments and riflepits, and they could also see the last of the Iroquois and Toryskirmishers leaping over the earthworks and taking refuge with theirarmy. Then they turned back and saw the long line of their own armysteadily advancing, while the sounds of heavy firing still continued onboth flanks. Henry looked proudly at the unbroken array, the front ofsteel, and the cannon. He felt prouder still when the general turned tohim and said:

  "You have done well, Mr. Ware; you have shown us exactly where the enemylies, and that will save us many men. Now bigger voices than those ofthe rifles shall talk."

  The army stopped. The Indian position could be plainly seen. The crestof the earthwork was lined with fierce, dark faces, and here and thereamong the brown Iroquois were the green uniforms of the Royalists.

  Henry saw both Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas, the plumes in their hairwaving aloft, and he felt sure that wherever they stood the battle wouldbe thickest.

  The Americans were now pushing forward their cannon, six three-poundersand two howitzers, the howitzers, firing five-and-a-half-inch shells,new and terrifying missiles to the Indians. The guns were wheeled intoposition, and the first howitzer was fired. It sent its great shell ina curving line at and over the embankment, where it burst with a crash,followed by a shout of mingled pain and awe. Then the second howitzer,aimed well like the first, sent a shell almost to the same point, and alike cry came back.

  Shif'less Sol, watching the shots, jumped up and down in delight.

  "That's the medicine!" he cried. "I wonder how you like that, youButlers an' Johnsons an' Wyatts an' Mohawks an' all the rest o' yourscalp-taking crew! Ah, thar goes another! This ain't any Wyomin'!"

  The three-pounders also opened fire, and sent their balls squarely intothe rifle pits and the Indian camp. The Iroquois replied with a showerof rifle bullets and a defiant war whoop, but the bullets fell short,and the whoop hurt no one.

  The artillery, eight pieces, was served with rapidity and precision,while the riflemen, except on their flanks, where they were more closelyengaged, were ordered to hold their fire. The spectacle was to Henry andhis comrades panoramic in its effect. They watched the flashes of firefrom the mouths of the cannon, the flight of the great shells, and thebank of smoke which soon began to lower like a cloud over the field.They could picture to themselves what was going on beyond the earthwork,the dead falling, the wounded limping away, earth and trees torn byshell and shot. They even fancied that they could hear the voices of thegreat chiefs, Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas, encouraging their men,and striving to keep them in line against a fire not as deadly as riflebullets at close quarters, but more terrifying.

  Presently a cloud of skirmishers issued once more from the Indian camp,creeping among the trees and bushes, and seeking a chance to shoot downthe men at the guns. But sharp eyes were watching them.

  "Come, boys," exclaimed Henry. "Here's work for us now."

  He led the scouts and the best of the riflemen against the skirmishers,who were soon driven in again. The artillery fire had never ceased for amoment,
the shells and balls passing over their heads. Their work done,the sharpshooters fell back again, the gunners worked faster for awhile, and then at a command they ceased suddenly. Henry, Paul, and allthe others knew instinctively what was going to happen. They felt it inevery bone of them. The silence so sudden was full of meaning.

  "Now!" Henry found himself exclaiming. Even at that moment the order wasgiven, and the whole army rushed forward, the smoke floating away forthe moment and the sun flashing off the bayonets. The five sprang upand rushed on ahead. A sheet of flame burst from the embankment, and therifle pits sprang into fire. The five beard the bullets whizzing pastthem, and the sudden cries of the wounded behind them, but they neverceased to rush straight for the embankment.

  It seemed to Henry that he ran forward through living fire. There wasone continuous flash from the earthwork, and a continuous flash replied.The rifles were at work now, thousands of them, and they kept up anincessant crash, while above them rose the unbroken thunder of thecannon. The volume of smoke deepened, and it was shot through with thesharp, pungent odor of burned gunpowder.

  Henry fired his rifle and pistol, almost unconsciously reloaded, andfired again, as he ran, and then noticed that the advance had neverceased. It had not been checked even for a moment, and the bayonets ofone of the regiments glittered in the sun a straight line of steel.

  Henry kept his gaze fixed upon a point where the earthwork was lowest.He saw there the plumed head of Thayendanegea, and he intended to strikeif he could. He saw the Mohawk gesticulating and shouting to his men tostand fast and drive back the charge. He believed even then, and he knewlater, that Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas were showing courage superiorto that of the Johnsons and Butters or any of their British and Canadianallies. The two great chiefs still held their men in line, and theIroquois did not cease to send a stream of bullets from the earthwork.

  Henry saw the brown faces and the embankment coming closer and closer.He saw the face of Braxton Wyatt appear a moment, and he snapped hisempty pistol at it. But it was hidden the next instant behind others,and then they were at the embankment. He saw the glowing faces ofhis comrades at his side, the singular figure of Heemskerk revolvingswiftly, and behind them the line of bayonets closing in with thegrimness of fate.

  Henry leaped upon the earthwork. An Indian fired at him point blank, andhe swung heavily with his clubbed rifle. Then his comrades were by hisside, and they leaped down into the Indian camp. After them came theriflemen, and then the line of bayonets. Even then the great Mohawk andthe great Wyandot shouted to their men to stand fast, although the RoyalGreens and the Rangers had begun to run, and the Johnsons, the Butlers,McDonald, Wyatt, and the other white men were running with them.

  Henry, with the memory of Wyoming and all the other dreadful things thathad come before his eyes, saw red. He was conscious of a terrible melee,of striking again and again with his clubbed rifle, of fierce brownfaces before him, and of Timmendiquas and Thayedanegea rushing here andthere, shouting to their warriors, encouraging them, and exclaiming thatthe battle was not lost. Beyond he saw the vanishing forms of the RoyalGreens and the Rangers in full flight. But the Wyandots and the bestof the Iroquois still stood fast until the pressure upon them becameoverwhelming. When the line of bayonets approached their breasts theyfell back. Skilled in every detail of ambush, and a wonderful forestfighter, the Indian could never stand the bayonet. ReluctantlyTimmendiquas, Thayendanegea and the Mohawks, Senecas, and Wyandots, whowere most strenuous in the conflict, gave ground. Yet the battlefield,with its numerous trees, stumps, and inequalities, still favored them.They retreated slowly, firing from every covert, sending a shower ofbullets, and now and then tittering the war whoop.

  Henry heard a panting breath by his side. He looked around and saw theface of Heemskerk, glowing red with zeal and exertion.

  "The victory is won already!" said he. "Now to drive it home!"

  "Come on," cried Henry in return, "and we'll lead!"

  A single glance showed him that none of his comrades had fallen. LongJim and Tom Ross had suffered slight wounds that they scarcely noticed,and they and the whole group of scouts were just behind Henry. But theynow took breath, reloaded their rifles, and, throwing themselves downin Indian fashion, opened a deadly fire upon their antagonists. Theirbullets searched all the thickets, drove out the Iroquois, and compelledthem to retreat anew.

  The attack was now pressed with fresh vigor. In truth, with so much thatthe bravest of the Indians at last yielded to panic. Thayendanegea andTimmendiquas were carried away in the rush, and the white leaders oftheir allies were already out of sight. On all sides the allied red andwhite force was dissolving. Precipitate flight was saving the fugitivesfrom a greater loss in killed and wounded-it was usually Indian tacticsto flee with great speed when the battle began to go against them-butthe people of the Long House had suffered the greatest overthrow intheir history, and bitterness and despair were in the hearts of theIroquois chiefs as they fled.

  The American army not only carried the center of the Indian camp, butthe heavy flanking parties closed in also, and the whole Indian armywas driven in at every point. The retreat was becoming a rout. A great,confused conflict was going on. The rapid crackle of rifles mingled withthe shouts and war whoops of the combatants. Smoke floated everywhere.The victorious army, animated by the memory of the countless crueltiesthat had been practiced on the border, pushed harder and harder. TheIroquois were driven back along the Chemung. It seemed that they mightbe hemmed in against the river, but in their flight they came to a ford.Uttering their cry of despair, "Oonali! Oonali!" a wail for a battlelost, they sprang into the stream, many of them throwing away theirrifles, tomahawks, and blankets, and rushed for the other shore. But theScouts and a body of riflemen were after them.

  Braxton Wyatt and his band appeared in the woods on the far shore, andopened fire on the pursuers now in the stream. He alone among the whitemen had the courage, or the desperation, to throw himself and his menin the path of the pursuit. The riflemen in the water felt the bulletspattering around them, and some were struck, but they did not stop. Theykept on for the bank, and their own men behind them opened a coveringfire over their heads.

  Henry felt a great pulse leap in his throat at the sight of BraxtonWyatt again. Nothing could have turned him back now. Shouting to theriflemen, he led the charge through the water, and the bank's defenderswere driven back. Yet Wyatt, with his usual dexterity and prudence,escaped among the thickets.

  The battle now became only a series of detached combats. Littlegroups seeking to make a stand here and there were soon swept away.Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas raged and sought to gather togetherenough men for an ambush, for anything that would sting the victors, butthey were pushed too hard and fast. A rally was always destroyed in thebeginning, and the chiefs themselves at last ran for their lives. Thepursuit was continued for a long time, not only by the vanguard, but thearmy itself moved forward over the battlefield and deep into the foreston the trail of the flying Iroquois.

  The scouts continued the pursuit the longest, keeping a close watch,nevertheless, against an ambush. Now and then they exchanged shots witha band, but the Indians always fled quickly, and at last they stoppedbecause they could no longer find any resistance. They had been inaction or pursuit for many hours, and they were black with smoke, dust,and sweat, but they were not yet conscious of any weariness. Heemskerkdrew a great red silk handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped hisglowing face, which was as red as the handkerchief.

  "It's the best job that's been done in these parts for many a year," hesaid. "The Iroquois have always thought they were invincible, and nowthe spell's been broke. If we only follow it up."

  "That's sure to be done," said Henry. "I heard General Sullivan himselfsay that his orders were to root up the whole Iroquois power."

  They returned slowly toward the main force, retracing their steps overthe path of battle. It was easy enough to follow it. They beheld a deadwarrior at every step, and at intervals were
rifles, tomahawks, scalpingknives, blankets, and an occasional shot pouch or powder horn. Presentlythey reached the main army, which was going into camp for the night.Many camp fires were built, and the soldiers, happy in their victory,were getting ready for supper. But there was no disorder. They had beentold already that they were to march again in the morning.

  Henry, Paul, Tom, Jim, and Shif'less Sol went back over the field ofbattle, where many of the dead still lay. Twilight was now coming, andit was a somber sight. The earthwork, the thickets, and the trees weretorn by cannon balls. Some tents raised by the Tories lay in ruins, andthe earth was stained with many dark splotches. But the army had passedon, and it was silent and desolate where so many men had fought. Thetwilight drew swiftly on to night, and out of the forest came grewsomesounds. The wolves, thick now in a region which the Iroquois had doneso much to turn into a wilderness, were learning welcome news, and theywere telling it to one another. By and by, as the night deepened, thefive saw fiery eyes in the thickets, and the long howls came again.

  "It sounds like the dirge of the people of the Long House," said Paul,upon whose sensitive mind the scene made a deep impression.

  The others nodded. At that moment they did not feel the flush of victoryin its full force. It was not in their nature to rejoice over a fallenfoe. Yet they knew the full value of the victory, and none of them couldwish any part of it undone. They returned slowly to the camp, and oncemore they heard behind them the howl of the wolves as they invaded thebattlefield.

  They were glad when they saw the cheerful lights of the camp firestwinkling through the forest, and heard the voices of many men talking.Heemskerk welcomed them there.

  "Come, lads," he said. "You must eat-you won't find out until you begin,how hungry you are-and then you must sleep, because we march earlyto-morrow, and we march fast."

  The Dutchman's words were true. They had not tasted food since morning;they had never thought of it, but now, with the relaxation from battle,they found themselves voraciously hungry.

  "It's mighty good," said Shif'less Sol, as they sat by a fire and atebread and meat and drank coffee, "but I'll say this for you, you oldornery, long-legged Jim Hart, it ain't any better than the venison an'bulffaler steaks that you've cooked fur us many a time."

  "An' that I'm likely to cook fur you many a time more," said Long Jimcomplacently.

  "But it will be months before you have any chance at buffalo again,Jim," said Henry. "We are going on a long campaign through the Iroquoiscountry."

  "An' it's shore to be a dangerous one," said Shif'less Sol. "Men likewarriors o' the Iroquois ain't goin' to give up with one fight. They'llbe hangin' on our flanks like wasps."

  "That's true," said Henry, "but in my opinion the Iroquois areoverthrown forever. One defeat means more to them than a half dozen tous."

  They said little more, but by and by lay down to sleep before the fires.They had toiled so long and so faithfully that the work of watching andscouting that night could be intrusted to others. Yet Henry couldnot sleep for a long time. The noises of the night interested him. Hewatched the men going about, and the sentinels pacing back and fortharound the camp. The sounds died gradually as the men lay down and sankto sleep. The fires which had formed a great core of light also sank,and the shadows crept toward the camp. The figures of the pacingsentinels, rifle on shoulder, gradually grew dusky. Henry's nerves,attuned so long to great effort, slowly relaxed. Deep peace came overhim, and his eyelids drooped, the sounds in the camp sank to thelowest murmur, but just as he was falling asleep there came from thebattlefield behind then the far, faint howl of a wolf, the dirge of theIroquois.

 
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