A Hero of Ticonderoga
Page 4
CHAPTER IV--THE NEW HAMPSHIRE GRANTS
A year later, the dispute of the Governors of New York and NewHampshire, concerning the boundaries of the two provinces, was at itsheight, and the quarrel between claimants of grants of the same lands,under charters from both governors, became every day more violent. Thedisputed territory was that between the Connecticut River and LakeChamplain, and was for a long time known as the New Hampshire Grants.
If a New York grantee found the claim which he had selected, or whichhad been allotted to him, occupied by a New Hampshire grantee, when thestrength of his party was sufficient he would take forcible possessionof the land, without regard to the improvements made upon it, andwithout making any compensation therefor. He was seldom left long inenjoyment of possession thus gained, for the friends of the NewHampshire grantee quickly rallied to his aid and summarily ousted theaggressor, who, if he proved too stubborn, was likely to be roughlyhandled, and have set upon his back the imprint of the beech seal, thename given to the blue-beech rod wherewith such offenders werechastised. The New Hampshire grantees were as unscrupulous in theirejectment of New York claimants who had first established themselves onthe New Hampshire Grants. Surveyors, acting under the authority of NewYork, were especially obnoxious to settlers of the other party, andrough encounters of the opposing claimants were not infrequent. SethBeeman and his neighbors had all taken up land under a New Hampshirecharter, without a thought of its validity being questioned.
One bright June morning, Nathan was watching the corn that, pushing itstender blades above the black mould in a corner of the clearing, offeredsweet and tempting morsels to the thieving crows. It was a lazy,sleep-enticing occupation, when all the crows but one, who sat bidinghis opportunity on a dry tree top, had departed, cawing encouragement toone another, in quest of a less vigilantly guarded field. There was nofurther need for beating with his improvised drumsticks on the hollowtopmost log of the fence, to the tune of "Uncle Dan, Uncle Dan, UncleDan, Dan, Dan," which would not scare the wise old veteran from hissteadfast waiting.
The indolent fluting of the hermit thrushes rang languidly through theleafy chambers of the forest, and the wood pewees sang their pensivesong on the bordering boughs, too content with song and mere existenceto chase the moth that wavered nearest their perch. The languor of theirnotes pervaded all the senses of the boy, and, with his body in theshade of the log fence and his bare feet in the sunshine, he fell into adoze.
Suddenly he was awakened by an alarmed outcry of the crow, now sweepingin narrow circles above some new intruder upon his domain. Then hebecame aware of strange voices, the tramp of feet, the swish of branchespushed aside regaining their places, a metallic clink, and occasionallightly delivered axe strokes. Mounting the topmost log of the fence,and shading his eyes with his hands, he peered into the twilight of thewoods. To this his eyes had hardly accustomed themselves, when he sawwhat sent flashes of anger and chills of dread chasing one anotherthrough his veins. But a few rods away, and coming towards him, were twomen, one bearing the end of a surveyor's chain and a bundle of wirerods, the other carrying an axe and gun. A little behind these were twomen similarly equipped, and still further in the rear, half hidden bythe screen of undergrowth, more figures were discovered, one of whom wassquinting through the sights of a compass, whose polished brassglittered in a stray sunbeam. Nathan was sure this must be the party ofthe New York surveyor of whom there had been a rumor in the settlement,and he felt that trouble was at hand.
"Hello, here's a clearin'," the foremost man, as he ran to the fence,called back to the one at the other end of the chain. "Jenkins, tell Mr.Felton there's a fenced clearin' here,--and boy," now deigning to noticeso insignificant an object.
"Stake," cried Jenkins.
As the first speaker planted one of the wire rods beside the fence,Jenkins pulled up the last one stuck in the woods, at the same timeshouting the news back to the surveyor.
"Hold on, boy," the first speaker said, as Nathan jumped from the fence."You stay here till Mr. Felton comes up."
"I'm going home," Nathan answered boldly; "if Mr. Felton wants me he cancome there."
"You sassy young rascal," cried one of the men, who carried a gun,bringing his weapon to a ready; "you stand where you be or I'll--" andhe tapped the butt of his gun impressively.
"You wouldn't dast to," Nathan gasped defiantly, but he went no further,and stood at bay, grinding the soft mold under his naked heel while hecast furtive glances at the intruders, till the remainder of the partycame up. The surveyor, impressed with the dignity of his position,maintained a haughty bearing toward all the members of his party saveone, a swarthy, thick-set, low-browed man, whom he addressed as Mr.Graves.
"A fine clearing, indeed," said Mr. Felton when he came to the fence. "Iwonder what Yankee scoundrel has dared to so seize, hold and occupy thelands of the Royal Colony of New York."
"Mayhap this younker can tell you, sir," said the man guarding the boy,and lowering his gun as he spoke.
"Boy, what scoundrel has dared to steal this land and establish himselfupon it without leave or license of His Excellency, the Governor of NewYork? Yes, and cut down the pine trees, especially reserved for themasting of His Majesty's navy," and he tapped the top log impressively.
"It's holler, Mr. Felton," Jenkins suggested, satisfying himself of thefact by a resonant thump of his axe.
"Who stole this land? Where's your tongue, boy?" Mr. Felton demandedsharply.
But the boy, out of mind an instant, in that instant was out of sight.Many a time he had heard Job recount the manner of retreat practised bythe Rangers, and now the knowledge served him well. While thesurveryor's party was engaged with the pine, he slipped down on the sameside of the fence, gained the veiling of a low bush, wormed his way afew feet along the ground, reached the protection of a large tree trunk,when he leaped to his feet, and, fleet and noiseless as a Rangerhimself, fled from tree to tree in a circuitous route to his father.
Seth Beeman was hard at work on an extension of his clearing to thewestward when Nathan came up, panting and breathless.
"Oh, father, there's a whole lot of Yorkers come and they're runnin' aline right through our clearin'."
Seth listened attentively until the men and their work had beendescribed minutely, and then, without a word, resumed the trimming ofthe great hemlock he had just felled. As Nathan waited for someresponse, he knew by his father's knitted brow that his thoughts werebusy. At length, breaking off a twig of hemlock, he came to his son andsaid, handing the evergreen to him:
"Take this to Newton's and show it to the men folks, and say 'There'strouble to Beeman's,' and then go on and do the same at every house,'round to Job's, and show it to him and tell him the' same, and dowhatever he tells you. Be spry, my boy; I must stay here and ta' care ofmother and Sis. Keep in the woods till you get clear of the Yorkers,then take the road and clipper."