Chapter IX. Wyoming

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　The five made no attempt to pursue. In fact, they did not leavethe cabin, but stood there a while, looking down at the fallen,hideous with war paint, but now at the end of their last trail.Their tomahawks lay upon the floor, and glittered when the lightfrom the fire fell upon them. Smoke, heavy with the odor ofburned gunpowder, drifted about the room.

　　Henry threw open the two shuttered windows, and fresh currents ofair poured into the room. Over the mountains in the east camethe first shaft of day. The surface of the river was lightening.

　　"What shall we do with them?" asked Paul, pointing to the silentforms on the floor.

　　"Leave them," said Henry. "Butler's army is burning everythingbefore it, and this house and all in it is bound to go. Younotice, however, that Braxton Wyatt is not here."

　　"Trust him to escape every time," said Shif'less Sol. "Of coursehe stood back while the Indians rushed the house. But ez shoreez we live somebody will get him some day. People like thatcan't escape always."

　　They slipped from the house, turning toward the river bank, andnot long after it was full daylight they were at Forty Fortagain, where they found Standish and his family. Henry repliedbriefly to the man's questions, but two hours later a scout camein and reported the grim sight that he had seen in the Standishhome. No one could ask for further proof of the fealty of thefive, who sought a little sleep, but before noon were off again.

　　They met more fugitives, and it was now too dangerous to gofarther up the valley. But not willing to turn back, theyascended the mountains that hem it in, and from the loftiestpoint that they could find sought a sight of the enemy.

　　It was an absolutely brilliant day in summer. The blue of theheavens showed no break but the shifting bits of white cloud, andthe hills and mountains rolled away, solid masses of rich, darkgreen. The river, a beautiful river at any time, seemed fromthis height a great current of quicksilver. Henry pointed to aplace far up the stream where black dots appeared on its surface.These dots were moving, and they came on in four lines.

　　"Boys," he said, "you know what those lines of black dots are?"

　　"Yes," replied Shif'less Sol, "it's Butler's army of Indians,Tories, Canadians, an' English. They've come from Tioga Point onthe river, an' our Colonel Butler kin expect 'em soon."

　　The sunlight became dazzling, and showed the boats, despite thedistance, with startling clearness. The five, watching fromtheir peak, saw them turn in toward the land, where they pouredforth a motley stream of red men and white, a stream that wasquickly swallowed up in the forest.

　　"They are coming down through the woods on the fort, said TomRoss.

　　"And they're coming fast," said Henry. "It's for us to carry thewarning."

　　They sped back to the Wyoming fort, spreading the alarm as theypassed, and once more they were in the council room with ColonelZebulon Butler and his officers around him.

　　"So they are at hand, and you have seen them?" said the colonel.

　　"Yes," replied Henry, the spokesman, "they came down from TiogaPoint in boats, but have disembarked and are advancing throughthe woods. They will be here today."

　　There was a little silence in the room. The older men understoodthe danger perhaps better than the younger, who were eager forbattle.

　　"Why should we stay here and wait for them?" exclaimed one of theyounger captains at length-some of these captains were mere boys."Why not go out, meet them, and beat them ?"

　　"They outnumber us about five to one," said Henry. "Brant, if heis still with them, though be may have gone to some other placefrom Tioga Point, is a great captain. So is Timmendiquas, theWyandot, and they say that the Tory leader is energetic andcapable."

　　"It is all true!" exclaimed Colonel Butler. "We must stay in thefort! We must not go out to meet them! We are not strongenough!"

　　A murmur of protest and indignation came from the youngerofficers.

　　"And leave the valley to be ravaged! Women and children to bescalped, while we stay behind log walls!" said one of themboldly.

　　The men in the Wyoming fort were not regular troops, merelymilitia, farmers gathered hastily for their own defense.

　　Colonel Butler flushed.

　　"We have induced as many as we could to seek refuge," he said."It hurts me as much as you to have the valley ravaged while wesit quiet here. But I know that we have no chance against solarge a force, and if we fall what is to become of the hundredswhom we now protect?"

　　But the murmur of protest grew. All the younger men wereindignant. They would not seek shelter for themselves whileothers were suffering. A young lieutenant saw from a window twofires spring up and burn like torch lights against the sky. Theywere houses blazing before the Indian brand.

　　"Look at that!," he cried, pointing with an accusing finger, "andwe are here, under cover, doing nothing!"

　　A deep angry mutter went about the room, but Colonel Butler,although the flush remained on his face, still shook his head.He glanced at Tom Ross, the oldest of the five.

　　"You know about the Indian force," he exclaimed. What should wedo?"

　　The face of Tom Ross was very grave, and he spoke slowly, as washis wont.

　　"It's a hard thing to set here," he exclaimed, "but it will beharder to go out an' meet 'em on their own ground, an' them fouror five to one."

　　"We must not go out," repeated the Colonel, glad of such backing.

　　The door was thrust open, and an officer entered.

　　"A rumor has just arrived, saying that the entire Davidson familyhas been killed and scalped," he said.

　　A deep, angry cry went up. Colonel Butler and the few who stoodwith him were overborne. Such things as these could not beendured, and reluctantly the commander gave his consent. Theywould go out and fight. The fort and its enclosures were soonfilled with the sounds of preparation, and the little army wasformed rapidly.

　　"We will fight by your side, of course," said Henry, "but wewish to serve on the flank as an independent band. We can be ofmore service in that manner."

　　The colonel thanked them gratefully.

　　"Act as you think best," he said.

　　The five stood near one of the gates, while the little forceformed in ranks. Almost for the first time they were gloomy upongoing into battle. They had seen the strength of that army ofIndians, renegades, Tories, Canadians, and English advancingunder the banner of England, and they knew the power andfanaticism of the Indian leaders. They believed that theterrible Queen Esther, tomahawk in hand, had continually chantedto them her songs of blood as they came down the river. It wasnow the third of July, and valley and river were beautiful in thegolden sunlight. The foliage showed vivid and deep green oneither line of high hills. The summer sun had never shown morekindly over the lovely valley.

　　The time was now three o'clock. The gates of the fort werethrown open, and the little army marched out, only three hundred,of whom seventy were old men, or boys so young that in our daythey would be called children. Yet they marched bravely againstthe picked warriors of the Iroquois, trained from infancy to theforest and war, and a formidable body of white rovers who wishedto destroy the little colony of "rebels," as they called them.

　　Small though it might be, it was a gallant army. Young and oldheld their heads high. A banner was flying, and a boy beat asteady insistent roll upon a drum. Henry and his comrades wereon the left flank, the river was on the right. The great gateshad closed behind them, shutting in the women and the children.The sun blazed down, throwing everything into relief with itsintense, vivid light playing upon the brown faces of theborderers, their rifles and their homespun clothes. ColonelButler and two or three of his officers were on horseback,leading the van. Now that the decision was to fight, the olderofficers, who had opposed it, were in the very front. Forwardthey went, and spread out a little, but with the right flankstill resting on the river, and the left extended on the plain.

　　The five were on the edge of the plain, a little detached fromthe others, searching the forest for a sign of the enemy, who wasalready so near. Their gloom did not decrease. Neither therolling of the drum nor the flaunting of the banner had anyeffect. Brave though the men might be, this was not the way inwhich they should meet an Indian foe who outnumbered them four orfive to one.

　　"I don't like it," muttered Tom Ross.

　　"Nor ' do I," said Henry, "but remember that whatever happens weall stand together."

　　"We remember!" said the others.

　　On-they went, and the five moving faster were now ahead of themain force some hundred yards. They swung in a little toward theriver. The banks here were highland off to the left was a largeswamp. The five now checked speed and moved with great wariness.They saw nothing, and they heard nothing, either, until they wentforty or fifty yards farther. Then a low droning sound came totheir ears. It was the voice of one yet far away, but they knewit. It was the terrible chant of Queen Esther, in this momentthe most ruthless of all the savages, and inflaming themcontinuously for the combat.

　　The five threw themselves flat on their faces, and waited alittle. The chant grew louder, and then through the foliage theysaw the ominous figure approaching. She was much as she had beenon that night when they first beheld her. She wore the samedress of barbaric colors, she swung the same great tomahawk abouther head, and sang all the time of fire and blood and death.

　　They saw behind her the figures of chiefs, naked to the breechcloth for battle, their bronze bodies glistening with the warpaint, and bright feathers gleaming in their hair. Henryrecognized the tall form of Timmendiquas, notable by his height,and around him his little band of Wyandots, ready to provethemselves mighty warriors to their eastern friends the Iroquois.Back of these was a long line of Indians and their white allies,Sir John Johnson's Royal Greens and Butler's Rangers in thecenter, bearing the flag of England. The warriors, of whom theSenecas were most numerous, were gathered in greatest numbers ontheir right flank, facing the left flank of the Americans.Sangerachte and Hiokatoo, who had taken two English prisoners atBraddock's defeat, and who had afterwards burned them both alivewith his own hand, were the principal leaders of the Senecas.Henry caught a glimpse of "Indian" Butler in the center, with agreat blood-red handkerchief tied around his head, and, despitethe forest, he noticed with a great sinking of the heart how farthe hostile line extended. It could wrap itself like a pythonaround the defense.

　　"It's a tale that will soon be told," said Paul.

　　They went back swiftly, and warned Colonel Butler that the enemywas at band. Even as they spoke they heard the loud wailingchant of Queen Esther, and then came the war whoop, pouring froma thousand throats, swelling defiant and fierce like the cry of awounded beast. The farmers, the boys, and the old men, most ofwhom had never been in battle, might well tremble at this ominoussound, so great in volume and extending so far into the forest.But they stood firm, drawing themselves into a somewhat morecompact body, and still advancing with their banners flying, andthe boy beating out that steady roll on the drum.

　　The enemy now came into full sight, and Colonel Butler deployedhis force in line of battle, his right resting on the high bankof the river and his left against the swamp. Forward pressed themotley army of the other Butler, he of sanguinary and cruel fame,and the bulk of his force came into view, the sun shining down onthe green uniforms of the English and the naked brown bodies ofthe Iroquois.

　　The American commander gave the order to fire. Eager fingerswere already on the trigger, and a blaze of light ran along theentire rank. The Royal Greens and Rangers, although replyingwith their own fire, gave back before the storm of bullets, andthe Wyoming men, with a shout of triumph, sprang forward. It wasalways a characteristic of the border settler, despite manydisasters and a knowledge of Indian craft and cunning, to rushstraight at his foe whenever he saw him. His, unless a trainedforest warrior himself, was a headlong bravery, and now thisgallant little force asked for nothing but to come to close gripswith the enemy.

　　The men in the center with "Indian" Butler gave back still more.With cries of victory the Wyoming men pressed forward, firingrapidly, and continuing to drive the mongrel white force. Therifles were cracking rapidly, and smoke arose over the two lines.The wind caught wisps of it and carried them off down the river.

　　"It goes better than I thought," said Paul as he reloaded hisrifle.

　　"Not yet," said Henry, "we are fighting the white men only.Where are all the Indians, who alone outnumber our men more thantwo to one?"

　　"Here they come," said Shif'less Sol, pointing to the depths ofthe swamp, which was supposed to protect the left flank of theWyoming force.

　　The five saw in the spaces, amid the briars and vines, scores ofdark figures leaping over the mud, naked to the breech cloth,armed with rifle and tomahawk, and rushing down upon theunprotected side of their foe. The swamp had been but littleobstacle to them.

　　Henry and his comrades gave the alarm at once. As many aspossible were called off immediately from the main body, but theywere not numerous enough to have any effect. The Indians camethrough the swamp in hundreds and hundreds, and, as they utteredtheir triumphant yell, poured a terrible fire into the Wyomingleft flank. The defenders were forced to give ground, and theEnglish and Tories came on again.

　　The fire was now deadly and of great volume. The air was filledwith the flashing of the rifles. The cloud of smoke grewheavier, and faces, either from heat or excitement, showed redthrough it. The air was filled with bullets, and the Wyomingforce was being cut down fast, as the fire of more than athousand rifles converged upon it.

　　The five at the fringe of the swamp loaded and fired as fast asthey could at the Indian horde, but they saw that it was creepingcloser and closer, and that the hail of bullets it sent in wascutting away the whole left flank of the defenders. They saw thetall figure of Timmendiquas, a very god of war, leading on theIndians, with his fearless Wyandots in a close cluster aroundhim. Colonel John Durkee, gathering up a force of fifty orsixty, charged straight at the warriors, but he was killed by awithering volley, which drove his men back.

　　Now occurred a fatal thing, one of those misconceptions whichoften decide the fate of a battle. The company of CaptainWhittlesey, on the extreme left, which was suffering mostseverely, was ordered to fall back. The entire little army,which was being pressed hard now, seeing the movement ofWhittlesey, began to retreat. Even without the mistake it islikely they would have lost in the face of such numbers.

　　The entire horde of Indians, Tories, Canadians, English, andrenegades, uttering a tremendous yell, rushed forward. ColonelZebulon Butler, seeing the crisis, rode up and down in front ofhis men, shouting: "Don't leave me, my children! the victory isours!" Bravely his officers strove to stop the retreat. Everycaptain who led a company into action was killed. Some of thesecaptains were but boys. The men were falling by dozens.

　　All the Indians, by far the most formidable part of the invadingforce, were through the swamp now, and, dashing down theirunloaded rifles, threw themselves, tomahawk in hand, upon thedefense. Not more than two hundred of the Wyoming men were leftstanding, and the impact of seven or eight hundred savagewarriors was so great that they were hurled back in confusion. Awail of grief and terror came from the other side of the river,where a great body of women and children were watching thefighting.

　　"The battle's lost," said Shif'less Sol,

　　"Beyond hope of saving it," said Henry, "but, boys, we five arealive yet, and we'll do our best to help the others protect theretreat."

　　They kept under cover, fighting as calmly as they could amid sucha terrible scene, picking off warrior after warrior, saving morethan one soldier ere the tomahawk fell. Shif'less Sol took ashot at "Indian" Butler, but he was too far away, and the bulletmissed him.

　　"I'd give five years of my life if he were fifty yards nearer,"exclaimed the shiftless one.

　　But the invading force came in between and he did not get anothershot. There was now a terrible medley, a continuous uproar, thecrashing fire of hundreds of rifles, the shouts of the Indians,and the cries of the wounded. Over them all hovered smoke anddust, and the air was heavy, too, with the odor of burntgunpowder. The division of old men and very young boys stoodnext, and the Indians were upon them, tomahawk in hand, but inthe face of terrible odds all bore themselves with a valor worthyof the best of soldiers. Three fourths of them died that day,before they were driven back on the fort.

　　The Wyoming force was pushed away from the edge of the swamp,which had been some protection to the left, and they were nowassailed from all sides except that of the river. "Indian"Butler raged at the head of his men, who had been driven back atfirst, and who had been saved by the Indians. Timmendiquas, inthe absence of Brant, who was not seen upon this field, became byvalor and power of intellect the leader of all the Indians forthis moment. The Iroquois, although their own fierce chiefs,I-Tiokatoo, Sangerachte, and the others fought with them,unconsciously obeyed him. Nor did the fierce woman, QueenEsther, shirk the battle. Waving her great tomahawk, she wascontinually among the warriors, singing her song of war anddeath.

　　They were driven steadily back toward the fort, and the littleband crumbled away beneath the deadly fire. Soon none would beleft unless they ran for their lives. The five drew away towardthe forest. They saw that the fort itself could not hold outagainst such a numerous and victorious foe, and they had no mindto be trapped. But their retreat was slow, and as they went theysent bullet after bullet into the Indian flank. Only a smallpercentage of the Wyoming force was left, and it now broke.Colonel Butler and Colonel Dennison, who were mounted, reachedthe fort. Some of the men jumped into the river, swam to theother shore and escaped. Some swam to a little island calledMonocacy, and hid, but the Tories and Indians hunted them out andslew them. One Tory found his brother there, and killed him withhis own hand, a deed of unspeakable horror that is yet mentionedby the people of that region. A few fled into the forest andentered the fort at night.