The Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley by James Otis
page 93 of 315 (29%)
page 93 of 315 (29%)
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without waiting to hear more the old soldier set off, this time leaving
it for me to bring up the rear. Now it was I came to understand that the rain was beginning to fall; the wind came in spiteful gusts, betokening a storm, and I could have hugged myself with glee at the thought that the elements were favoring us in the attempt which, at the outset, had seemed doomed to failure. Before we had traversed half the distance from the fort to the thicket on the westerly side, the rain was falling heavily, and the wind whistling at such a rate as to have drowned any ordinary noise we might make in forcing our way through the foliage. Never had a storm, which promised much bodily discomfort, been so warmly welcomed by me; never had one been more sadly needed by those who fought against the king and his savage followers for the cause of American liberty. It is well known that Indians, like cats, are averse to exposing their bodies to rain, and when we set out on the return I had but little fear, believing that every one of Thayendanega's followers would be hugging his lodge closely, while the Tories would find it difficult to discern us from any great distance as we lay prone upon the ground. Lest I spend too many words in the telling of it, let me say, in short, that we gained the thicket without causing an alarm, and, what was really strange, made our way through it in a westerly direction for fully a mile without meeting any living being. Then it was that Sergeant Corney came to a halt, and, taking the corn |
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