In the Days of Poor Richard
2
In August, Howe had moved a part of his army from Halifax to StatenIsland and offensive operations were daily expected in Washington'sarmy. Jack hurried to his regiment, then in camp with others on theheights back of Brooklyn. The troops there were not ready for a strongattack. General Greene, who was in command of the division, hadsuddenly fallen ill. Jack crossed the river the night of his arrivalwith a message to General Washington. The latter returned with theyoung Colonel to survey the situation. They found Solomon atheadquarters. He had discovered British scouts in the wooded countrynear Gravesend. He and Jack were detailed to keep watch of that partof the island and its shores with horses posted at convenient points sothat, if necessary, they could make quick reports.
Next day, far beyond the outposts in the bush, they tied their horsesin the little stable near Remsen's cabin on the south road and went onafoot through the bush. Jack used to tell his friends that thesingular alertness and skill of Solomon had never been so apparent asin the adventures of that day.
"Go careful," Solomon warned as they parted. "Keep a-goin' south an'don't worry 'bout me."
"I thought that I knew how to be careful, but Solomon took the conceitout of me," Jack was wont to say. "I was walking along in the bushlate that day when I thought I saw a move far ahead. I stopped andsuddenly discovered that Solomon was standing beside me.
"I was so startled that I almost let a yelp out of me.
"He beckoned to me and I followed him. He began to walk about as fastas I had ever seen him go. He had been looking for me. Soon he slowedhis gait and said in a low voice:
"'Ain't ye a leetle bit car'less? An Injun wouldn't have no troublesmashin' yer head with a tommyhawk. In this 'ere business ye got tohave a swivel in yer neck an' keep 'er twistin'. Ye got to know what'sgoin' on a-fore an' behind ye an' on both sides. We must p'int fercamp. This mornin' the British begun to land an army at Gravesend.Out on the road they's waggin loads o' old folks an' women, an' babieson their way to Brooklyn. We got to skitter 'long. Some o' theirskirmishers have been workin' back two ways an' may have us cut off.'"
Suddenly Solomon stopped and lifted his hand and listened. Then hedropped and put his ear to the ground. He beckoned to Jack, who creptnear him.
"Somebody's nigh us afore an' behind," he whispered. "We better hidetill dark comes. You crawl into that ol' holler log. I'll nose myselfunder a brush pile."
They were in a burnt slash where the soft timber had been cut some timebefore. The land was covered with a thick, spotty growth of poplar andwild cherry and brush heaps and logs half-rotted. The piece of timberto which Solomon had referred was the base log of a giant hemlockabandoned, no doubt, because, when cut, it was found to be a shell. Itwas open only at the butt end. Its opening was covered by an immensecobweb. Jack brushed it away and crept backward into the shell. Heobserved that many black hairs were caught upon the rough sides of thissingular chamber. Through the winter it must have been the den of ablack bear. As soon as he had settled down, with his face some twofeet from the sunlit air of the outer world. Jack observed that theindustrious spider had begun again to throw his silvery veil over thegreat hole in the log's end. He watched the process. First the outerlines of the structure were woven across the edges of the opening andmade fast at points around its imperfect circle. Then the weaverdropped to opposite points, unreeling his slender rope behind him andmaking it taut and fast. He was no slow and clumsy workman. He knewhis task and rushed about, rapidly strengthening his structure withparallel lines, having a common center, until his silken floor was inplace again and ready for the death dance of flies and bees and wasps.Soon a bumble bee was kicking and quivering like a stricken ox on itssurface. The spider rushed upon him and buried his knives in the backand sides of his prey. The young man's observation of this interestingprocess was interrupted by the sound of voices and the tread of feet.They were British voices.
"They came this way. I saw them when they turned," a voice was saying."If I had been a little closer, I could have potted both men with onebullet."
"Why didn't you take a shot anyhow?" another asked.
"I was creeping up, trying to get closer. They have had to hide or runupon the heels of our people."
A number of men were now sitting on the very log in which Jack washidden. The young scout saw the legs of a man standing opposite theopen end of the log. Then these memorable words were spoken:
"This log is good cover for a man to hide in, but nobody is hid in it.There's a big spider's web over the opening."
There was more talk, in which it came out that nine thousand men werecrossing to Gravesend.
"Come on, boys, I'm going back," said one of the party. Whereupon theywent away.
Dusk was falling. Jack waited for a move from Solomon. In a fewminutes he heard a stir in the brush. Then he could dimly see the faceof his friend beyond the spider's web.
"Come on, my son," the latter whispered. With a feeling of realregret, Jack rent the veil of the spider and came out of hishiding-place. He brushed the silken threads from his hair and brow ashe whispered:
"That old spider saved me--good luck to him!"
"We'll keep clus together," Solomon whispered. "We got to push righton an' work 'round 'em. If any one gits in our way, he'll have tochange worlds sudden, that's all. We mus' git to them hosses 'foremidnight."
Darkness had fallen, but the moon was rising when they set out.Solomon led the way, with that long, loose stride of his. Theirmoccasined feet were about as noiseless as a cat's. On and on theywent until Solomon stopped suddenly and stood listening and peeringinto the dark bush beyond. Jack could hear and see nothing. Solomonturned and took a new direction without a word and moving with thestealth of a hunted Indian. Jack followed closely. Soon they weresinking to their knees in a mossy tamarack swamp, but a few minutes ofhard travel brought them to the shore of a pond.
"Wait here till I git the canoe," Solomon whispered.
The latter crept into a thicket and soon Jack could hear him cautiouslyshoving his canoe into the water. A little later the young man sat inthe middle of the shell of birch bark while Solomon knelt in its sternwith his paddle. Silently he pushed through the lilied margin of thepond into clear water. The moon was hidden behind the woods. Thestill surface of the pond was now a glossy, dark plane between twostarry deeps--one above, the other beneath. In the shadow of theforest, near the far shore, Solomon stopped and lifted his voice in thelong, weird cry of the great bush owl. This he repeated three times,when there came an answer out of the woods.
"That's a warnin' fer ol' Joe Thrasher," Solomon whispered. "He'll goout an' wake up the folks on his road an' start 'em movin'."
They landed and Solomon hid his canoe in a thicket.
"Now we kin skitter right long, but I tell ye we got purty clus to 'emback thar."
"How did you know it?"
"Got a whiff o' smoke. They was strung out from the pond landing over'crost the trail. They didn't cover the swamp. Must 'a' had a firefor tea early in the evenin'. Wherever they's an Englishman, thar'sgot to be tea."
Before midnight they reached Remsen's barn and about two o'clockentered the camp on lathering horses. As they dismounted, looking backfrom the heights of Brooklyn toward the southeast, they could see agreat light from many fires, the flames of which were leaping into thesky.
"Guess the farmers have set their wheat stacks afire," said Solomon."They're all scairt an' started fer town."
General Washington was with his forces some miles north of the othershore of the river. A messenger was sent for him. Next day theCommander-in-Chief found his Long Island brigades in a condition ofdisorder and panic. Squads and companies, eager for a fight, wereprowling through the bush in the south like hunters after game. Anumber of the new Connecticut boys had deserted. Some of them had beencaptured and brought back. In speaking of the matter, Washington said:
"We must be tolerant. These lads ar
e timid. They have been draggedfrom the tender scenes of domestic life. They are unused to therestraints of war. We must not be too severe."
Jack heard the Commander-in-Chief when he spoke these words.
"The man has a great heart in him, as every great man must," he wroteto his father. "I am beginning to love him. I can see that thesethousands in the army are going to be bound to him by an affection likethat of a son for a father. With men like Washington and Franklin tolead us, how can we fail?"
The next night Sir Henry Clinton got around the Americans and turnedtheir left flank. Smallwood's command and that of Colonel Jack Ironswere almost destroyed, twenty-two hundred having been killed or taken.Jack had his left arm shot through and escaped only by the swift andeffective use of his pistols and hanger, and by good luck, his horsehaving been "only slightly cut in the withers." The American line gaveway. Its unseasoned troops fled into Brooklyn. There was the end ofthe island. They could go no farther without swimming. With a Britishfleet in the harbor under Admiral Lord Howe, the situation wasdesperate. Sir Henry had only to follow and pen them in and unlimberhis guns. The surrender of more than half of Washington's army wouldhave to follow. At headquarters, the most discerning minds saw thatonly a miracle could prevent it.
The miracle arrived. Next day a fog thicker than the darkness of aclouded night enveloped the island and lay upon the face of the waters.Calmly, quickly Washington got ready to move his troops. That night,under the friendly cover of the fog, they were quietly taken across theEast River, with a regiment of Marblehead sea dogs, under ColonelGlover, manning the boats. Fortunately, the British army had halted,waiting for clear weather.