# Marching on Niagara/Chapter 12
### CHAPTER XII
##### DARK YEAR OF THE WAR

At the time this story opens George Washington had been on the frontier for nearly two years, with what was little more than a handful of rangers and militia, doing his best to protect a section of country extending through Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia. His headquarters were at Winchester, where the fort was in a good state for defence, but he was frequently away from that place, directing minor operations against the Indians, who, urged by their French allies, were continually attacking isolated settlements.
At this time the future President of our country was still a young man, strong, resolute, and full of the fire of ambition. There was no thought of independence in those days. He was a subject of the King of England, and as a subject willing to do his utmost to sustain British authority in America. He was dearly beloved by all the soldiers under him, but it must be confessed that some of these soldiers were ​not as willing to remain in the army as was desirable.
The trouble over the soldiers is easily explained. In the first place the settlers objected to doing military duty when called upon to "play second fiddle" to the soldiers brought over from England, and in the second place the pay was poor and uncertain, and the pioneers, much as they wished to defend their frontier and whip the French and Indians, could ill afford to neglect their farms and crops.
"I'd like to enlist again," said one old pioneer to Washington, "But I have a wife and four little children at home, and if I don't care for them they'll have nothing to eat. You know, sir, that I haven't received a dollar of pay for three months." This explanation was typical of many, and while Colonel Washington was sorry to have his men desert him thus, deep down in his heart he could not blame them for wishing to provide for those they dearly loved.
Thus far the conduct of the war with France had been a series of disasters to England's cause, extending over a period of three years. Braddock's bitter defeat, in July, 1755, had been followed by Shirley's abandonment of the plan to take Fort Niagara, and after a bitter battle at Lake George, Sir William Johnson, of whom we shall hear much ​more later, was forced to give up his hope of pushing on to Crown Point. This closed the fighting for the year, leaving the outlook for the colonies gloomy indeed.
War between France and England was formally declared in May, 1756—just twenty years before that memorable Revolution which separated the United States from England. The Earl of Loudon was sent out to take command of a new expedition north, but his work in that territory was no more victorious than Johnson's had been, and as a consequence the French commander, General Montcalm, captured Oswego, with all the guns and supplies left there the year previous by Shirley, and in his defeat General Webb, with a large portion of the British troops, had to fall back to Albany.
Early in the following year the English made greater preparations than ever to bring the war to a satisfactory close. Loudon sailed from New York with six thousand men, and was joined at Halifax by Admiral Holborne with a fleet of eleven warships. The object of the expedition was to attack Louisburg, but when the English arrived in the vicinity of that French stronghold they found seventeen of the enemy's warships awaiting them, backed up by heavy land fortifications, and to attack such ​a force would have been foolhardy; so Loudon returned to New York much dispirited.
In the meantime, Montcalm was not idle. While Loudon was proceeding against Louisburg the great French general came down with a strong forca from Crown Point and attacked Fort William Henry. The fort was compelled to surrender, and did so with the understanding that the soldiers be allowed to march out with the honors of war. But the Indians with the French would not agree to this, and upon a given signal they fell with great fury on the English, slaughtering them right and left, butchering not only the soldiers but also about a hundred women and children who had fled to the enclosure for safety. The barracks were battered down and burned, and the cannon, boats, and stores carried away. For these outrageous proceedings Montcalm was held responsible, but he claimed that the Indians could not be controlled.
The effect of so many disasters to British arms in other quarters, could leave but one impression on the minds of the Indians who threatened the frontier which Washington was trying to defend. These warriors came to the conclusion that the English were too weak to defend themselves, and, consequently, they could rush in and kill, burn, and loot ​to suit themselves. They were well aware that the French still held Fort Duquesne, and that if the English came too far westward (in a chase after the redmen, ) the French would rouse up in an effort to drive them back from whence they had come. More than this, there were among the Indians such rascally traders as Jean Bevoir, and these men, in order to further their own interests, told the Indians to go ahead and do as they pleased against the English, and that the French would never interfere, no matter how barbarous was the warfare thus carried on.
At this time the population of Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia was reckoned at about half a million souls, yet from such a number Washington could only obtain two thousand militiamen and rangers, and, as stated before, this number was constantly decreasing, as one after another refused to re-enlist, for reasons already given. The young commander did all in his power to protect the numerous settlements from attacks, but to cover such a wide expanse of territory was, under the circumstances, impossible. The best that could be done was to station parts of the army at various forts and hold the soldiers in readiness to march forth in any direction from whence should come an alarm.
White Buffalo, my brother, has done well to bring this message so quickly."—Page 109.
"Who is the messenger?" questioned the commander, for in those days it was necessary to guard against all possible treachery.
"An under chief named White Buffalo, sir."
Washington knew White Buffalo fairly well, and at once commanded that the chief be brought in. This was done, and the warrior delivered the message written by Captain Tanner with all the ceremony the occasion, to the Indian, seemed to require.
"White Buffalo, my brother, has done well to bring this message so quickly," said Washington. "Fort Lawrence needs help and I shall give all the help in my power. You know much of the Indians who are friendly to the French. How soon will they attack the place, do you think?"
"That White Buffalo cannot tell to his brother Washington," was the chief's answer. "They are eager for plunder and will hold off only so long as they think they are too weak to make the attack. But when they feel strong enough they will rush in, and if they take the fort, White Buffalo is sure the massacre at Fort William Henry will be repeated."
​A few words more followed, and Washington hurried forth to notify several of his officers of what was happening at Fort Lawrence. A force of only thirty-six men could be spared from Fort Winchester, and these were placed under the command of Lieutenant Baldwick, an old Indian fighter. With the whites went nine Indians, who, after some little urging, consented to act under White Buffalo, although they belonged to a different tribe. Washington was greatly tempted to take command himself but felt that he would soon be needed in other directions.
The rangers chosen for this expedition were all on horseback, and Lieutenant Baldwick started them off just as soon as they could be gotten together, and the necessary food and ammunition could be distributed. The Indians were on foot, but they were all good runners, and as the trail was a rough one for horses the warriors kept up without great difficulty.
The expedition was yet within sight of Winchester when James Morris came riding into the post, having been on a business trip a mile further eastward. Dave's father met Colonel Washington at the entrance to the stockade and took the liberty to ask what the departure of the soldiers meant.
"They are on the way to Fort Lawrence," was ​the answer, and Washington told of the message received and of what White Buffalo had had to relate.
"That's bad!" ejaculated James Morris. "Did he say anything of my folks, Colonel?"
"He mentioned your brother Joseph as being with Captain Tanner, but that is all. I sincerely trust your family are in the fort and safe," answered Washington.
Dave's father had wished to see the commander about the purchase of a number of horses needed by the British army, but now the business was forgotten, and without delay the trader dashed off on his steed after Lieutenant Baldwick's command. As soon as he gained the expedition he sought out White Buffalo and asked concerning Dave.
"He is at the fort," said the Indian. "And so is your brother Joseph and his wife and Rodney and little Bright-face,"—meaning Nell.
"And what of Henry?"
"He was missing—but he may be at the fort when we get there." And as well as he was able the warrior told of what had happened at Uriah Risley's cabin and afterwards.
Although the expedition moved on as rapidly as possible, it was high noon before half the distance to Fort Lawrence was covered. The mid-day meal was eaten on the march, and the only stop made was ​one to water the horses. Two white scouts and two Indians went ahead as spies, and half an hour later discovered the camp of four Indians, who had with them one warrior who was suffering with a broken leg. A skirmish ensued, and two of the Indians, including the wounded man, were killed and the others taken prisoners. After that the expedition moved onward with greater vigilance than ever.
It was nearly three o'clock, and the soldiers were still a mile from the fort, when one of the advance guard set up a shout. He had caught sight of two white men creeping along the edge of a ravine to the north of the trail. A halt was ordered and another batch of scouts went forward to learn who the whites could be.
A short game of hide-and-seek now ensued, each side not knowing whether the other was a friend or an enemy. But at last there came a yell of joy from Sam Barringford as he swung his coon-skin cap in the air.
"I know you, Dick Hoggerly!" he shouted, to one of the scouts. "Don't let 'em shoot at us. I've got Henry Morris with me."
"Hullo, so it's you, Sam," was the answer. "All right; we ain't shootin' no friends if we kin help it." And then the word was passed around and soon the ​two wanderers were made welcome, Henry especially so by his Uncle James.
The pair had but little to relate outside of what is already known. They told Lieutenant Baldwick that the Indians surrounded Fort Lawrence completely and that some sort of an attack had already taken place. This was enough to arouse the spirit of even the most sluggish, and once again the expedition moved through the forest, determined to save the fort and its defenders, if such a thing were possible.