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Updated: June 29, 2025
But I was bound 'n' detarmined they 'd never tek me alive, never! Ef I ever dew any fightin', 't ain't a-goin' t' be fer England, nut by a side o' sole-leather. I med up my mind I 'd begin the war right then an' there." "That fellow never knew what hit him," I remarked. "He did n't get up for half a minute." "Must 'a' swatted 'im powerful," said D'ri, as he felt his knuckles.
I had been waiting near half an hour when D'ri came back slowly, with a downhearted look. "'Tain' no use," said he. "Can't never git thet bear. He's got a flesh-wound high up in his hin' quarters, an' he's travellin' fast." He took a fresh chew of tobacco and mounted his horse. "Terrible pity!" he exclaimed, shaking his head with some trace of lingering sorrow.
Some of their cavalry came within three miles of us to-day. Everybody scairt t' death." He began to set out a row of glasses. "What 'll ye hev?" he inquired. "Guess I 'll tip a little blue ruin int' me," said D'ri, with a shiver; "'s a col' night." Seth and I called for the same. "An' you?" said the landlord, turning to Thurst.
D'ri rapped on the door until I thought he had roused the whole village. At last a man came to the upper window. He, too, inspected us with a candle. Then he opened the door and gave us a hearty welcome. We put up our horses for a bite, and came into the bar. "Anything new?" I inquired. "They say the British are camped this side of the river, north of us," said he, "with a big tribe of Injuns.
Starting west, in the woods, on our way to the Harbor, we stopped here and there to listen, but heard only wood-thrush and partridge the fife and drum of nature. That other music had gone out of hearing. We had no compass, but D'ri knew the forest as a crow knows the air. He knew the language of the trees and the brooks.
I had seen the squad break, running each way, to surround us. D'ri grabbed my hand as the dark fell, and we went plunging through the little pines, hitting a man heavily, who fell grunting. We had begun to hear the rattle of boats, a shouting, and quick steps on the shore. We crouched a moment. D'ri blew the moose-horn, pulling me aside with him quickly after the blast.
We could hear a far sound like that of a great wagon rumbling on a stony road. "The Almighty 's whippin' his hosses," said D'ri. "Looks es ef he wus plungin' 'em through the woods 'way yender. Look a' thet air sky." The cloud-masses were looming rapidly. They had a glow like that of copper. "Tryin' t' put a ruf on the world," my companion shouted. "Swingin' ther hammers hard on the rivets."
D'ri blew out a thoughtful breath, looking up into the air coolly, as he filled his pipe. "Consarned if ever I wanted t' have a smoke s' bad 'n all my born days," he remarked. Then he moved his holster, turned his scabbard, and sat down quietly, puffing his pipe with some look of weariness and reflection.
"Guess we better go 'n' see whut 's the matter." He took his rifle and I my sword, I never thought of another weapon, making off through the brush. The dog came whining to D'ri and rushing on, eager for us to follow. We hurried after him, and in a moment D'ri and the dog, who were ahead of me, halted suddenly. "It 's a painter," said D'ri, as I came up. "See 'im in thet air tree-top.
I put an armed guard by the prisoners at the door, under command of D'ri. Then I had them bare the feet of the four Britishers, knowing they could not run bootless in the brush. We organized a convoy, the general and I, and prepared to start for the garrison. We kept the smudges going, for now and then we could hear the small thunder of hornet-wings above us.
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