You cannot picture the distress of the women, children, and feeble old men waiting at Forty Fort the issue of the battle.

The sorrowful groups on the bank of the river listened to the sounds of conflict, and read the meaning as they came to their ears.

The steady, regular firing raised their hopes at first. They knew their sons and friends were fighting well, despite the shouts of the Indians borne down the valley on the sultry afternoon.

By and by the firing grew more scattering, and instead of being so far up the river as at first, it was coming closer.

This could mean but one thing; the patriots were retreating before the Tories and Indians.

One old man, nearly four score years of age, who pleaded to go into the battle, but was too feeble, could not restrain his feelings. He walked back and forth, inspired with new strength and full of hope, until the scattered firing and its approach left no doubt of its meaning.

He paused in his nervous, hobbling pace, and said to the white faced women standing breathlessly near--"Our boys are retreating: they have been beaten--all hope is gone!"

The next moment two hors.e.m.e.n galloped into sight. "Colonel Butler and Colonel Denison!" said the old man, recognizing them; "they bring sad news."

It was true. They rode their horses on a dead run, and reining up at the fort, where the people crowded around them, they leaped to the ground, and Colonel Butler said--"Our boys have been driven from the field, and the Tories and Indians are at their heels!"

CHAPTER FOUR: THE EASTERN Sh.o.r.e

Young Ben Ripley made a good record on that eventful 3rd of July. He loaded and fired as steadily as a veteran. The smoke of the guns, the wild whooping of the Iroquois Indians, the sight of his friends and neighbors continually dropping to the ground, some of them at his elbow, the deafening discharge of the rifles--all these and the dreadful swirl and rush of events dazed him at times; but he kept at it with a steadiness which caused more than one expression of praise from the officers nearest him.

All at once he found himself mixed up in the confusion caused by the attempt to wheel a part of the line to face the flanking a.s.sailants, and the mistake of many that it was an order to retreat.

He did not know what it meant, for it seemed to him that a dozen officers were shouting conflicting orders at the same moment. A number of men threw down their guns and made a wild rush to get away, several falling over each other in the frantic scramble; others b.u.mped together, and above the din of the conflict sounded the voices of Colonel Butler, as he rode back and forth through the smoke, begging his troops not to leave him, and victory would be theirs.

Seeing the hopeless tangle, the Indians swarmed out of the swamp, and by their savage attack and renewed shouts made the hubbub and confusion tenfold worse.

Somebody ran so violently against Ben that he was thrown to the ground.

He was on his feet in an instant and turned to see who did it. It was a soldier fleeing for life from an Iroquois warrior.

Ben raised his gun, took quick aim and pulled the trigger, but no report followed. He had forgotten his weapon was unloaded.

Other forms obtruded between him and the couple, and he could not see the result of the pursuit and attack. Despite all he could do, he was forced back by the panic stricken rush around and against him.

Suddenly a wild cry reached him. An Iroquois with painted face rushed upon him with uplifted tomahawk, but he was yet several paces away, when another warrior seized his arm and wrenched him to one side.

"Run--go fast--don't stay!" commanded the Indian that had saved the youth, furiously motioning to him.

"If my gun were loaded," replied Ben, though his voice was unheard in the din, "I wouldn't go till I did something more. h.e.l.loa! is that you, Omas?"

It was the Delaware that had turned the a.s.sault aside.

A couple of bounds placed him beside he lad, and he caught his arm with a grip of iron.

It was of no use trying to hold back. Omas half running, half leaping, drove his way like a wedge through the surging swarm. His left hand closed around the upper arm of Ben, while his right grasped his tomahawk, he having thrown aside his rifle.

The boy was repeatedly jerked almost off his feet. He could run fast, but was not equal to this warrior, who forged along with resistless might. Twice did an Iroquois make for the young prisoner, as he supposed the lad to be, but a warning motion of the tomahawk upheld by Omas repelled him.

The Delaware was prudent, and instead of keeping in the midst of the surging ma.s.s, worked to one side, so that they were soon comparatively free from the tumultuous throng.

There was no attempt at conversation between the Delaware and Ben. The boy knew what was meant by this rough kindness. The day was lost, and his thoughts went out to the loved ones waiting down the valley to learn the result of the battle. He wanted to get to them as quickly as he could.

The rush carried them beyond the main body of fugitives, though not out of danger, for the Iroquois were pursuing hard; but soon Omas loosened his grip and dropped the arm of the lad. They were far enough removed from the swirl to exchange words.

"Where moder--where Alice?", asked the Delaware, as if he had no concern for his own child.

"At Forty Fort."

"Linna with them?"

"Yes; they are together with the other folks."

"Go dere--tell cross riber--make haste to Del'mware."

This command meant that the little party should hurry to the eastern side of the Susquehanna, and start for the settlements on the Upper Delaware. The nearest town was Stroudsburg, sixty miles distant, and the way led through a dismal forest.

The words of Omas showed, too, that he knew what was coming. Though the British Colonel Butler might accept the surrender and strive to give fair treatment to the prisoners, he would find it hard to restrain the Tories and Indians.

All that could be done was for the fugitives to flee, without an hour's delay. They were already flocking to the river in the effort to reach the other side. A good many hid among the gra.s.s and undergrowth on Monacacy Island, where the Tories and Indians followed, and hunted them out without mercy.

Those who were wise enough to set out in time had a chance of arriving at the settlements on the Upper Delaware, though much suffering was sure to follow, since there was no time to prepare food to take with them.

The remark of Omas prompted Ben's words--"How can I get mother, and Alice and Linna, to the other side? They cannot swim the river."

"Linna swim," was the somewhat proud answer; "she take care of Alice you take care of moder."

"I might at any other time, but with the people crowding around us, and the Indians at our heels and shooting down all they can, what chance have we? Why can't you come with me and help them?"

No doubt the Delaware had asked himself the question, for he answered it not by words, but by breaking into a loping trot for Forty Fort, with Ben running at his side. He halted before reaching the refuge, and turned aside among the bushes overhanging the edge of the river, his actions showing he was searching for something.

He speedily found a canoe, probably his own. It had been so skillfully hidden among the dense undergrowth that one might have pa.s.sed within a couple of paces without seeing it.

He picked it up as if it were a toy boat and set it down in the water.

"Go bring moder--bring Alice--bring Linna."

Ben was off like a shot, for he knew there was not a minute to throw away. It was the season when the days were longest, and two or three hours must pa.s.s before it would be fully night.

It would not do for Omas to go with Ben. His appearance at the fort would add to the panic, and be almost certain to bring about a conflict with some of the whites. It was his province to guard the precious canoe from being taken by other fugitives.

Ben Ripley now thought only of his loved ones. He knew the anguish his mother would suffer until she learned he was safe, and he forced his way to the spot where he had parted from her.

It was a sad experience. Old men, women and children, with white faces, were rushing to and fro, wringing their hands and wailing, searching for those whom they never again would see in this life; crowding into the little fort, as if they knew a minute's delay would be fatal; some making for the river, into which they plunged in a wild effort to reach the eastern sh.o.r.e, while among the frantic ma.s.ses appeared here and there a fugitive from the scene of battle, perhaps wounded and telling his dreadful story of the defeat, with all the woeful consequences that were certain to follow.

With much difficulty and some rough work the lad reached the spot where he had bidden his mother and the children goodbye, but none of the three was in sight. They had been swept aside by the rush of the terrified people.