So great was my delight at seeing Jacob slowly working his way into the lodge, that there was no room in my heart for surprise.  I entirely forgot to be astonished because after so long a time he had returned, or to question why it was he dared venture within the encampment.

Only the fact that he was there presented itself to my mind, and I gave no heed to anything else.

I struggled violently to reach the dear lad, intent on throwing my arms around him in order to show how deeply I felt this devotion of his which had brought him back, perhaps, to a terrible death; but Master Sitz and Sergeant Corney remained silent and motionless until Jacob was well within the lodge.  Then his father said, conveying reproach even in the whisper: 

“Why have you come here after once having gotten well away from the place?  You can do us no good, an’ only hope to add to the savages’ list of victims.”

“They have not got me yet,” Jacob replied, cheerily, and I understood that his courage had been greatly stiffened since the night he crept out from the cave.  “There’s a big powwow goin’ on over at St. Leger’s camp, an’ no one is on guard hereabouts.  This is the time when, if ever, you can escape.”

It seemed to me as if the lad talked the veriest nonsense in speaking of our escape by simply crawling away from the lodge, situate as it was in the very midst of the encampment; but Jacob had the whole plan in his mind, and was not to be disheartened, however much cold water we might throw upon it.

It may seem strange, but such is the fact, that even when thus surrounded by danger my curiosity was so great that I asked him, even before he had time to explain how he hoped to effect our rescue, where he had been so long.

“At Cherry Valley,” he replied, as if a journey there and back was the most simple thing imaginable.

“Meanin’ that you have been home since the night you left the cave?” I repeated, in astonishment.

“Ay, no less than that.”

“But why did you do it?” I cried, speaking so loudly as to call forth a warning groan from Sergeant Corney.

“Because I believed it might be possible for you to escape, providin’ we had help enough near at hand,” he replied, and I said, even more mystified than before: 

“Surely you could not expect to get help for us from Cherry Valley?”

“Ay; and that is just what I did.”

“Is my uncle here?”

“No, indeed; he believed my scheme to be so wild that he would hardly listen to me, and said you three had the same as come to your death already, therefore it was useless to raise a finger in your behalf while there were so many hundred people near at hand needin’ assistance.”

“Who then did you expect would come to our aid?” I asked, and Jacob replied, with what sounded very like a chuckle of satisfaction: 

“Who else, save the Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley?”

But for the rawhide ropes which held me so cruelly immovable, I would have leaped to my feet in astonishment; as it was, I involuntarily gave so violent a start as to cause myself considerable pain, and then asked, in great heat: 

“Why do you play upon our hopes, so lately raised, by declaring that the company of lads is here?”

“Not a bit of play about it, Noel,” Jacob replied, in so cheery a tone that my heart became wondrously light.  “Four an’ twenty of our company, with John Sammons still acting as captain, are within an hundred yards of this lodge, an’, what is more, we count on takin’ you away with us before another day shall dawn.”

Then it was as if Jacob believed he had satisfied our curiosity so much as was necessary at such a time, for without delay he moved from one to the other, deftly cutting the rawhide which held us motionless, and three minutes had not elapsed from the time he first showed himself inside the lodge until our limbs were freed.

We were no longer bound, but yet remained helpless.  I could move neither hand nor foot, struggle as I might.  It was as if my limbs were dead while my body yet remained alive; but Jacob, who had in his wild plan considered just such a probability, set about chafing my arms and legs until the feeling began to return.

He performed the same office for Sergeant Corney, I aiding in the task before it was finished; but a good ten minutes elapsed before we had command of our limbs, and then it was that even Master Sitz began to believe it might be possible for us to escape from the encampment.

While he worked over us, Jacob, understanding that we were being literally overwhelmed with curiosity regarding his movements during the long absence, explained that he was but a short distance from the cave when we were made prisoners, and at first almost gave way to despair because of what seemed to him the hardest stroke which an ill fortune could deliver.

During that night he kept us in view, until learning that we would not be put to death immediately, and then the lad searched in his mind for some plan which might give promise, however slight, of success.

He could not hope that those in the fort, closely besieged as they were, would be willing to make a desperate venture in order to aid three men, when so many hundred were in peril, and, even though the chances might be in favor of Colonel Gansevoort’s being ready to make a sortie in our behalf, they were decidedly against Jacob’s being able to communicate with the garrison.

Then it was he bethought himself of the Minute Boys, who were not absolutely needed in Cherry Valley after the hundred and fifty soldiers were quartered there, and, without knowing how they might be able to aid him in the almost hopeless task, he set off at full speed for our home, travelling by night as by day, with no more halts than were absolutely necessary in order to recruit his strength.

Colonel Campbell, my uncle, was much averse to Jacob’s wild plans.  He believed that, because of the danger which threatened all the inhabitants of the Mohawk Valley, it was in the highest degree foolhardy to make any such effort toward saving the lives of three people as might jeopardize an hundred times that number.  However, while saying flatly it was a boy’s scheme, and not worthy the attention of men, he stated that he would not put any obstruction in the way of those who chose to make the hazard, save to state openly that whosoever left on such a mission was but hastening his own death.

It quickened the sluggish blood in my veins when Jacob said that, after he had summoned the Minute Boys and explained to them in what peril we three were, never one showed the slightest disinclination to do as he proposed.

John Sammons, the lad who was acting as captain in my absence, insisted that it was plainly the duty of every member of the company to do whatsoever he might in our behalf, and the result was that the lad had been in Cherry Valley no more than half an hour before every member of the company was armed and outfitted for the perilous venture.

At the very last moment, however, eight or ten of the number were dissuaded by their parents; but the remainder started hotfoot for Fort Schuyler, arriving an hour before this last day had dawned.

The only plan which Jacob had formed in his mind was to get speech with us as speedily as possible after arriving.  Then, if needs be, he would make a dash upon the encampment, and trust to the Minute Boys fighting their way out with us in their midst.

Fortunately, however, he saw very speedily after daybreak that something of import was taking place, and wisely waited until it could be seen that every warrior was making ready for a grand powwow.

Now, so he told us, the Minute Boys were waiting hardly more than an hundred yards distant, and, if it should be possible for us to make our way through the encampment to that point, it was the determination of every lad to fight to the best of his ability, with the hope of being able to retreat meanwhile in case the Indians were aroused.

He who would not have done his best at escaping after all Jacob’s work, and in face of the pluck shown by our comrades, deserved of a verity to remain prisoner even until he was led to the stake; but, as can well be imagined, neither of us three hung back from the hazard, for surely it was better to die fighting than be tortured as Thayendanega’s wolves could torture a human being.

Master Sitz made one stipulation, however, which was that Jacob should lead the way as we crept out from the lodge, and, in event of our attempt at escape being discovered while we were yet within the encampment, the lad was to save himself without giving heed to us.

“There shall not be another victim added to our number,” Jacob’s father said, in a tone of determination.  “Strike out for your comrades, in case the alarm is given, my boy, and if we are taken again leave us to our fate.”

Jacob made no reply to this; but I believed that if the need arose he would disobey his father’s command without compunction.

There was no time to linger.  At any moment the powwow might be brought to an end, or some warrior return to the encampment, therefore it stood us in hand to move quickly, and so we did.

Not until Jacob was well outside the lodge did either of us three make any move to follow him, and then Sergeant Corney would have pushed me under the skins, which he raised slightly, but that I hung back, declaring it was Master Sitz’s place to go first; but the old man forced me forward.

How my heart beat when for the first time in eight days I had full command of my limbs, and wriggled myself out into the clear air!  It seemed as if every movement of my arms or legs caused so much noise that the few who remained in the lodges must be alarmed, and that I moved at even less than a snail’s pace, when every muscle was being strained in the effort to advance rapidly.

The perspiration came out upon my forehead in great drops, caused, not by the heat, but by the mental anguish, and again and again I said to myself that Jacob had labored for naught, since it would be impossible I could crawl undetected even over the short distance.

And when, in my excited frame of mind, it seemed as if the escape was but just begun, I found myself in the thicket amid those lads who had been my playmates since I could remember, while each strove to show in silence how delighted he was that I had come safely.

Then ensued another time of keenest suspense, when we strained our ears to hear the lightest sound which should betoken that the squaws of the encampment had been alarmed, and once more our hearts leaped up in joy as Master Sitz came behind the screen of bushes.

Now we had only to wait for Sergeant Corney, and, having seen what he could do in the wilderness, I had no doubt but that he would succeed in his purpose, which he soon did.

Perhaps no more than half an hour had passed from the time we first saw Jacob until we three, so lately prisoners, were surrounded by that brave band of lads who, by calling themselves “Minute Boys,” had excited the mirth of the elders of Cherry Valley, and yet never one who was not prepared to sacrifice his own life for the welfare of the others.

“What are we to do?” Sergeant Corney said, turning to me, as if I should resume command of this company of mine, and I replied, promptly, with never a thought of claiming my rights as captain: 

“It is for you to lead, sergeant, an’ we will obey.  There’s not one in this company so well fitted as you to take us out from amid the dangers which surround us.”

“Yet my idea of what is safest may seem to the rest of you like veriest folly,” he replied, as if he would shirk the responsibility, and Master Sitz said, eagerly: 

“It all seems to me like a piece of folly, Sergeant Corney, even though because of it are we brought out from the power of our enemies.  You can do no more hairbrained things than has already been done by my son.”

“Then, if the command be left to me, we shall make our way into Fort Schuyler, provided that be possible.”

“Fort Schuyler!” I cried, in dismay.

“Ay, lad, an’ we shall be there before another day dawns if we live, provided we make the start.”

“But why not put as many miles between us and this place as is possible?” I cried, with no slight show of irritation, for the imminence of the danger set every nerve tingling until I could think of nothing save the most hurried flight.

“It stands us in hand to go there, first, because they are in need of our help, and, secondly, because we shall stand a better show of finally escaping from the savages.”

“How do you make that out?” John Sammons asked, and I understood from his tone that he was not inclined for the hazard.

“Think you Thayendanega’s wolves will lose the prisoners whom they counted on seeing at the stake, without some effort to retake them?” the old man asked, sharply, and John Sammons replied: 

“All that we understand; but reckon on puttin’ a goodly distance between us an’ yonder encampment before to-morrow mornin’.  Unless there is an accident the escape will not be known for many hours, and then should we have so much the lead that we could count with some degree of assurance upon gaining Cherry Valley.”

“In that I do not agree, lad, an’ for many reasons.  We cannot advance at full speed, because it will be necessary to spend some time in learnin’ whether there be an enemy in the road; but the savages followin’ the trail may come as fast as their legs can bring them, therefore will they travel three miles to our two.”

“Ay; but we should be able to hold in good play as many as may overtake us.”

“That must be accordin’ to the fortunes of war.  It is hardly to be reckoned that we could fight a pitched battle without losin’ some portion of our company, and I would have this brave rescue of yours accomplished with as little cost as may be.  Therefore have I in mind to enter Fort Schuyler.”

I cannot truly say that Sergeant Corney convinced us his plan was the best; but certain it is we were silenced, as was no more than proper, since it stood to reason he knew best about such affairs.

After this, having made up our minds that we must attempt the perilous task, came the question of how it should be done, and on this point the old soldier gave us very little opportunity for discussion.

“It is my plan that we circle around the encampment, even beyond St. Leger’s quarters, in order to get a general idea of what may be goin’ on, an’, havin’ arrived at the road westward of the fortification, you lads shall get in hidin’ while I try once more to open communication with the garrison.”

“Why should you go alone?” I asked.  “We might remain in a body, and thus save just so much time.  If one can do the trick, then may it be possible for two, or a dozen.”

“Yes, to make one’s way across the open country, I grant you; but remember, lad, how long it would have taken to gain admission when we were there before had the garrison not been warned that we were in the vicinity.  This time they will look upon us as enemies until we are near enough to make ourselves known, and such a force as is here would appear to them like an attackin’ party.”

The sergeant was right, as I now understood full well, and, although I craved not the dangerous work, because my comrades were near at hand I desired they should see that I shirked not peril.

However, all seemed to understand that, if the sergeant’s plan was to be carried out, he should arrange the details, and therefore I held my peace.

In order to gain the westerly side of the fort from the Indian encampment, in the vicinity of which we then were, and learn what might be going on at St. Leger’s headquarters, it would be necessary to cross the river and traverse at least two-thirds of a complete circle around the fortification.

Much time might have been saved had we crossed the Mohawk to the southward, without venturing near the camps of the British.

Sergeant Corney seemed to consider that it was more important to get a general idea of the disposition of St. Leger’s forces before entering the fort, than to save ourselves so much labor, therefore he led the way eastwardly half a mile or more, until we were come to the narrowest part of the river, when we swam over, afterward heading directly for the main encampment of the besiegers.

Still acting under Sergeant Corney’s directions, the greater part of the company kept at a respectful distance when we were come within the vicinity of St. Leger’s headquarters, while he, Jacob, and I crept forward to reconnoitre.

Because of the many fires and the apparent confidence of the enemy that no attempt would be made to surprise them, we had ample opportunity to see all that was required.

The biggest kind of a feast, or powwow, or council, or whatever it might have been called, was in progress, and so deeply interested were the Britishers, Tories, and Indians alike that I believe of a verity we could have approached within fifty feet and not been discovered save by purest accident.

“Whatever they’ve got on hand seems to be somethin’ that’ll last well through the night,” Sergeant Corney said, as he lay amid the bushes watching the various groups of men, both white and red.  “If Colonel Gansevoort could only know what’s goin’ on at this minute, I allow he’d make such a sortie as would raise this siege in quick order.  We couldn’t have a better night for enterin’ the fort, an’, if we don’t succeed, it’ll be our fault, or through the blundering of some fool sentinel.”

To one who had not been in this vicinity, as had I, the old soldier’s words might have induced the belief that we were really not exposed to danger in making the proposed venture; but I knew full well he believed, as did I, that, however many might be feasting and dancing in the encampment, there were a certain number watching the fort, and if one of them should catch a glimpse of us the business would be at an end right speedily.

When Sergeant Corney had satisfied himself with a scrutiny of the camp, he led the way to the northward, where the Minute Boys were in hiding, and, arriving there, explained in few words the situation, to the end that they might be encouraged for that which was to come.

I question if, after showing the bravery they already had, the lads needed any words to stiffen their backs; but it pleased the old soldier to make it appear as if we had clear sailing before us, and did no real harm.

Then we started on the march, which would be long because it was necessary, after passing the encampment, to make considerable of a detour in order to avoid, first, a battery of three guns, then one of four mortars, and, lastly, a battery of three more guns, all of which extended northwesterly from St. Leger’s headquarters.

After this distance had been traversed, we passed within less than two hundred feet of the line of trenches which had been begun as an approach to the fort, and then bore to the southward again, crossing the Albany road.

Finally, at perhaps two o’clock in the morning, we arrived at a broad elevation, the easternmost slope of which came very near to the outer walls of the fort.

Here it would be necessary to advance without cover for perhaps an hundred yards, and it was this last and most dangerous work that Sergeant Corney insisted on doing himself.

My company found fairly good hiding-places in the thicket near at hand, Jacob and I creeping out to the edge of the foliage in order to keep watch upon the old soldier as he made his way like a snake over the plain, which was almost entirely destitute of vegetation.

He set off without delay, for, owing to the lateness of the hour, there was no time to be wasted, and our hearts were literally in our mouths as we watched him make his way slowly along, at imminent danger each second of being fired upon by the sentinels inside the fort.