CHAPTER III--A VISIT TO THE FORT
The summer brought more settlers to these inviting lands of level,fertile soil, and when the woods were again bright with autumnal hues,their broad expanse of variegated color was blotched with many a squareof unsightly new clearing. Job Carpenter looked with disfavor upon suchinfringement of the hunter's domain, but it was welcomed by the Beemans.Though Seth's active out-door employment and the constant companionshipof nature made him less lonely than his wife, yet he was of a socialnature and glad of human companionship; while Ruth, sometimes lonely inthe isolation of her new home, rejoiced in the neighborhood of otherwomen.
Only a mile away were the Newtons, a large and friendly family, andwithin three miles were four more friendly households, and another atthe falls of the turbid Lemon Fair. At this point a saw mill was beingbuilt and a grist mill talked of. With that convenience established soclose at hand, there would be no more need of the long journey to themill at Skeenesborough, a voyage that, in the best of weather, requiredtwo days to accomplish.
The settlers at first pounded their corn into samp, or finer meal forjohnny-cake, by the slow and laborious plumping mill, a huge woodenmortar with a spring pole pestle.
"Oh, mother," said Nathan, one summer afternoon, as for a while hestopped the regular thump, thump of the plumping mill to wipe his hotface and rest his arms that ached with the weary downpull of the greatpestle, "when do you s'pose the folks to the Fair will get the gris'mill done?"
"Afore long, I hope, for your sake, my boy," she answered, cheerily,through the window. "Let me spell you awhile and you take a good rest."
Laying her wool cards aside, she came out and set her strong hands tothe pestle, while Nathan ran out to the new road to see what ox-teamsterof unfamiliar voice was bawling his vociferous way along itsroot-entangled and miry course. Presently the boy came back, breathlesswith the haste of bearing great news.
"Oh, mother, they're carryin' the stones and fixin's for the new mill,and the man says they'll be ready for grindin' before winter sets in.Then it'll be good-by to you, old 'Up-an'-down,' and good riddance tobad rubbage," and he brought the pestle down with energy on thehalf-pounded grist of samp.
"Don' revile the plumpin' mill, Nathan. It's been a good friend in timeo' need. Mebby you'll miss the trips to Skeenesborough with your father.You've always lotted on them."
"Yes, but I'd rather go to the Fort and play with the boys, any day, andI'll have more time when samp poundin' is done and ended."
He had been with his father twice to the Fort to see its wonders, and,brief as the visits were, they sufficed to make him acquainted with theboys of the garrison, and, for the time, a partner in their games.Before the summer was out, the little Yankee became a great favoritewith the few English and Irish boys whose fathers were soldiers of thelittle garrison. He taught them how to shoot with his hornbeam bow andspiked arrows, and many another bit of woodcraft learned of his fastfriend Job, while they taught him unheard-of games, and told him talesof the marvellous world beyond the sea, a world that was as a dream tohim.
His Yankee inquisitiveness made him acquainted with every nook andcorner of the fortification, and he was even one day taken into thecommandant's quarters, that the beautiful wife of that fine gentlemanmight see from what manner of embryo grew these Yankees, who werebecoming so troublesome to His Majesty, King George. She was so pleasedwith his frank, simple manner and shrewd answers that she dismissed himwith a bright, new English shilling, the largest sum that he had yetpossessed.
"Really, William," she afterwards remarked to her husband, "if this be aspecimen of your terrible Yankees, they be very like our own people, inspeech and actions, only sharper witted, and they surely show closekinship with us in spite of such long separation."
"You little know them," said Captain Delaplace, laughing. "They are aturbulent, upstart breed. I fear only a sound drubbing, and, perhaps,the hanging of a score of their leaders, will teach them obedience toHis Majesty."
"I would be sorry to have this little man drubbed or hanged," said she,with a sigh; "surely he is not of the stuff rebels are made of."
"The very stuff, my dear. Bold and self-reliant, and impatient ofcontrol, as you may see. If ever there comes an outbreak of thesediscontented people, I warrant you'll find this boy deserving thedrubbing and getting it, too, for His Majesty's troops would make shortwork of such rabble."
A Hero of Ticonderoga Page 3
