CHAPTER XVIII
"THE CROSS OF FIRE"
Having at length been assured beyond peradventure that his suspicionswere true, a desire for vengeance upon Simon Halpen sprang to life inEnoch's heart. He forgot the momentous matter which had filled his mindbefore the appearance of Crow Wing the evening before. He thought onlyof his father's murderer, the man who had tried to injure them all, evento the point of destroying their home and attempting to shoot himself.
As he tramped back to the house with the haunch of venison on hisshoulder, he determined to tell nobody there of the finding of the moosehoofs which explained the mystery of his father's death. The hoofs hesaved to show Bolderwood, and for evidence against Simon Halpen if theopportunity ever arose to punish that villain. It was easy to see withthis evidence before him, how the awful deed had been accomplished. Withthe moose hoofs strapped upon his feet the Yorker had crept through theforest on the trail of the unconscious Jonas Harding; had seen him shootthe doe; and then falling upon him suddenly had beaten him to the earthwith his clubbed rifle and had bruised and mangled him so terribly thatthe neighbors, at first glance, pronounced the poor man killed by a madbuck. Hurrying from the vicinity, dress and hands covered with blood asCrow Wing had seen him, Halpen had hidden the deer hoofs in the hollowof the tree, and escaped to Albany, his vengeance accomplished.
"But he shall suffer for this yet," thought the youth, with compressedlips. "God will punish him if the courts do not. And sometime he may bedelivered into my hand, and if he is----"
The implied threat frightened him, and he did not follow it even in histhoughts, but by again turning his attention to the matter which EthanAllen's visit the day before had suggested, he strove to bring his mindinto better tone before meeting his mother. He feared that theexpression on his features would betray something of his horror anddetermination to her sharp eyes. When he reached home, however, he foundthe family so greatly excited that nobody thought to either askquestions or to notice his behavior. A drill had been called atBennington and Enoch was forced to saddle the horse and hurry away atonce. Under the present conditions it was thought best for Bryce toremain at home, for if the Green Mountain Boys marched upon Ticonderogathe younger Harding could not be spared to accompany the expedition.
The Council was in session and the leaders of the Green Mountain Boysremained in Bennington for more than a week. Couriers had arrived fromthe south and east and it was known that the British were rapidly beingshut up in Boston. The Massachusetts Colony was afire with wrath becauseof the Lexington massacre. The Grants people were quite as rebelliousagainst the King's authority, with the sad affair at Westminster freshin their minds. The proposal to capture the British strongholds on thelake met with favor everywhere. Small bodies of armed men began to comein and a camp was planned at Castleton. It was said that a large body oftroops was to march from Western Massachusetts and Connecticut to aidthe expedition. When Ethan Allen returned and heard of thesereinforcements he immediately desired to bring in more of his own peoplefor the work proposed.
"This is our work," he declared. "We have planned to lead this campaignand lead it we shall. We must show the southerners that we are one inheart and intention and therefore every able-bodied man in the Grantsmust come in. It isn't enough for us to have some men; we must have themost men and thereby control the expedition. We want the honor of it!"
"You must lead us, Colonel!" exclaimed Warner, who, although he had nosuch following as did Allen, was sure of a goodly company of determinedmen to join the expedition. "We'll follow you into Old Ti or anywhereelse; but no stranger must command."
"Then I must have more men to my following than anybody else," declaredAllen, vigorously. "I have seen a great many myself, but there aredistricts I haven't been able to reach."
"We must send out a cross of fire to rouse the clans," Captain Warnersaid, with a smile. "But who shall go? Bolderwood?"
"'Siah has reached his own land--where he's let the light in upon someacres, I understand--near Old Ti. And he's got his work cut out for himthere. No; I have the chap in mind to send up along the Otter. There'sonly one thing I fear. I understand that a plaguey Yorker has been seenabout Manchester for a week past. Just what he's so attentive to certainpeople for at this time bothers me, Seth."
"But if he's only a surveyor, or speculator----"
"A Yorker means a King's man these times," exclaimed Allen. "I got asight of him--a lean, hook-nosed fellow with a face puckered like awalnut; but we didn't pass the time o' day. I think he's spying on us."
"If he is----" began Warner, wrathfully.
"I'm sorry for him, that's all," declared the Green Mountain leader. "IfI catch him and it's proven against him, I'll hang him to the highestlimb in this neck of woods."
"But the person you will send out with the warning, Colonel?" criedWarner. "Whom have you in your mind?"
"I see him coming now," declared the leader, laughing. "I sent word tohim last evening. He should have been to Castleton ere this; but thewidow----"
"It's young Harding!" cried Captain Warner. "I recognize him. And,Colonel, from what I have seen of the young man, he'll bear out yourconfidence in him."
Enoch had approached near enough to hear this last and he flusheddeeply. "I was told you wanted to see me, Colonel Allen," he said,saluting awkwardly.
"I do indeed," said Allen. "You're ready for campaigning, I see. Leaveyour traps--even to your blanket and gun--with Master Fay here. You'llwant to travel light where I send you," and he proceeded to explain themission he wished the youth to perform.
"I am ready, Colonel," declared Enoch, throwing off his knapsack.
"Good! Away with you at once. Use yonder horse till you get toManchester. Beyond that there will scarcely be bridle paths, so a horsewill be in your way. Take the word around that the time has come tostrike. And have them rendezvous at Castleton. Be off, my boy, and maysuccess go with you!"
The horse in question was a fine steed that Allen had ridden into townthat very morning. The youth sprang into the saddle and, understandingthat haste and cautiousness were the two things most desired of him,trotted the animal easily out of the town and then put the spurs to himalong the road to Manchester. He spared neither the horse nor himselfuntil he reached the latter place and had left the steed in the keepingof a loyal man to be returned at the first opportunity to Colonel Allen.Of course, all the men in this section of the Grants had been warned ofthe proposed expedition against the fortresses on Champlain; it wasthose who dwelt deeper in the wilderness to whom young Enoch Harding hadbeen sent.
He knew what was expected of him. And he knew, too, how most of theGrants people would receive the news. Colonel Allen was beloved by themas were few leaders. This Connecticut giant who had given up his desirefor a college education and a life among books because duty called himto the work of supporting his family, who had been by turn a farmer, aniron forger, had tried mining and other toilsome industries, but whonearly always worked with a book in his hand or beside him where hecould read and study--this man with his free, jovial air and utterlyreckless courage, was become as one of the heroes of old to the peopleof Vermont. The men on his side of the controversy in which Allen hadtaken such a deep interest, loved him devotedly; those who espoused theNew York cause hated him quite as dearly, for they feared him.
So when Enoch set out from Manchester to go from farmstead to farmsteadand from clearing to clearing, he was not in much doubt as to whom heshould send to Castleton and whom he should pass by without speaking toregarding the proposed expedition. There would be no doubtful settlers.The line between Tories and Whigs was drawn too sharply; and every Whigstood by Ethan Allen.
Enoch had learned something of the paths and runways of this part of theGrants. It had been near here that Lot Breckenridge and himself, withCrow Wing, had spent a winter trapping. Lot had now gone, so he hadheard, to Boston as he said he should if fighting began. He had gone tohelp Israel Putnam and the other New England leaders pen the Britishinto t
he city and aid in that series of maneuvres which finally drovethe red-coats into their ships. As for himself, Enoch was only eager tobe one of those who should storm the walls of Ticonderoga, and glad ashe was to have been singled out for this present duty, he was determinedto husband his strength so as to get back to Castleton before the armygathering there should move against the British fortifications.
He walked rapidly; more often he ran. In the pouch at his belt hecarried parched corn, like an Indian on the warpath. Occasionally at aclearing, where some hardy borderer was scratching a living from thehalf-cleared soil, he would stop long enough to eat. But usually hehalted only to give the good man of the house the message from EthanAllen and, as he passed on and entered the forest on the further side helooked back to see the settler, his gun on his shoulder, bidding hisfamily good-bye preparatory to setting out for the rendezvous appointedfor the American troops.
But nature revolts when a certain point of exhaustion is reached.Refusing to remain the night at one kindly settler's home, Enoch finallyfound himself in the forest a goodly distance from any other house. Thepath could be followed quite easily, the woods being open; but he wasfootsore and thoroughly wearied. He shrank from lying down beside thetrail, however, for more reasons than one. On several occasions thatafternoon he had heard of the presence of another traveler in thevicinity, and the identity of this man he could not learn. The settlerswho had mentioned him, however, declared they believed him to be a NewYork agent, or a spy from the British across the lake, who was goingthrough the region to discover just how the people felt regarding therising trouble between the Colonials and the mother country. Such, atleast, had been the trend of his conversation with the loyal Americansto whom he had been unwise enough to speak.
The appearance of the man, too, rather troubled Enoch. He was said to betall and lean, with a very black face, a huge nose and fiery eyes. Theyouth remembered how Simon Halpen looked a few weeks before when he sawhim at Westminster, and this pretty well described the scoundrel. Halpenwas in the Grants--or had been recently. Perhaps he had dared comeacross the mountains toward the lake on some errand for the Tory party,and the thought that the man who had murdered his father and who hadtried to take his own life, might be within rifle shot, troubled theyouth exceedingly. He could not drive away this thought and when finallyhe was forced to stop for rest he trembled to think that perhaps thelight of his campfire would attract an enemy more to be feared thaneither the wolves or catamounts.
But he built his fire, broiled a piece of meat which the last settler hespoke to had given him, ate his supper, and then prepared to sleep for afew hours. The moon would rise late, and he desired to set forward onhis journey again as soon as it was light enough in the forest. Just atpresent the darkness shrouded all objects. But when he lay down with hisfeet toward the blaze and his head upon a heap of moss for a pillow, hecould not sleep, tired though he was. His nerves were all alive. Hislimbs twitched so that he could not keep them still. Every sound of theforest smote upon his ear with insistence. Although his muscles werewearied his eyes would not close.
Who was the Yorker that had crossed his path so many times during thepast few hours? What did he desire here in the Otter country? Was he aspy for the British? or was he upon his own business? And, above all,was he, Nuck Harding, in danger? The stranger might be roaming theforest even then, hunting for the messenger of the Green Mountainchieftain. He had likely heard that Nuck was going from farmer tofarmer, as Nuck had heard of his presence, and the man might contemplatestopping him. It would be easy for him to creep upon and shoot thedefenseless youth as he lay before the fire.
Nuck's only weapons were his knife and the hatchet stuck in his belt.Lying there within the circle of light cast by the flames he would be aneasy mark for any enemy. As minute after minute passed it seemed utterlyimpossible for him to quench this fear and he finally rose to his feetand got out of the fire light. He stood in the deep shadow of a treetrunk and cast searching glances around the tiny clearing in which hehad established his camp. Not a living thing did he observe.
But if there was an enemy on his trail, and he should come near the campand see it deserted he would suspect a trap at once. Either he wouldcircle about so as to finally find Enoch, or he would fly from theambush at once. "I expect I am very foolish,--losing good sleep that Ineed, too!" muttered the young fellow. "But still----"
He could not explain the strange unrest that possessed him. He was notof a particularly nervous temperament; therefore his present moodtroubled him the more. There was danger menacing him; he felt it, if hecould not see nor understand it. The only possibility of peril whichreason suggested was through the agency of that stranger. "I must havethings here so that he will not suspect that I am on my guard," theyouth muttered.
Forthwith he dragged a piece of a broken tree-trunk to the fire, wrappedhis coat about it and placed his cap at the end of the stick farthestfrom the blaze. He was careful to place the rude dummy far enough awayfrom the fire so that its flickering light should not be cast upon ittoo strongly. It really looked, when he was through, as though someperson lay there asleep. He did not feed the flames too generously, butleft burning some hardwood sticks, the glowing coals of which would lendbut little light to the scene. Then he retired again to the shadow ofthe tree where, crouching between two huge exposed roots, he waited withsleepless eyes for that which was, perhaps, merely the phantom of hisfears.