Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-11-17
OLIVER u|NDSAYS STRATAGEM
HOW ACLEVERLAD SAVED FORT HUN
TER FROM AN INDIAN MASSACRE.
Written .or The Evening Star.

About sunrise of a crisp October morning
in the year 1856 Oliver Lindsay, slim, sun
burned lad of fifteen, was standing on the
platform Of the Fort Hunter stockade,
looking very discontentedly at the autumn
landscape. AS far as he could see russell
and gold-tinted mountains sloped to the
shores Of the broad Susquehanna- Below
him, and few feet to one side stolid-
looking sentry paced before the wide-open
gates. From the low log structure of the
fort proper, behind the lad came the eager
prattle of children, the shrill voices of w.
men and the rattle of tinware. In the yard
few scattered groups Of soldiers were
lighting their after-breakfast pipes or pol
ishing and cleaning their fint-lock mus
kets.
1t was more than a year after Braddock's
disastrous defeat near Fort Duquesne, and
the murderous Shawanese and Delawares,
In their slow and unopposed advance with
calping knife and tomahawk. had pene-
trated to this part Of the province of Penn
sylvania. At least they had been in the vi
cinity of Shamokin a week before, at which
time the scattered settlers had fiocked in
haste to the recently constructed forts along
the river.
A dozen families were under the protec-
ton OF Fort Hunter, which was garrisoned
by two sergeants and thirty-four privates.
Mr.. Lindsay, with his wife, had gone on to
Philadelphia to urge the need of more eff
Gent protection upon the assembly, leaving
Oliver in care of nelghbors at the fort. 1t
was dull and monotonous experience for
the lad, and he heartily wished himself
back at his cozy home near the base of Pc
ter's mountain. All through the summer
he had looked forward to the joys of Octo-
Der. Now, instead of gathering nuts for
winter or tracking deer and smaller game,
he was prisoner behind the tall stockade.
He could have better stood danger and ex-
element, but there was not even that to
relieve the irksomeness of life at the fort.
No Indian atrocities had occurred within
thirty miles, and the scouts vino went out
daily reported no signs of savages. The
settlers themselves were dtcontented, and
admitted that they had been hasty in aban-
donins their homes, while the fact that the
gates were left open by day showed plainly
what the soldiers thought of the situation.
I'D like to stretch my legs on the noun
tain and pick up a few chestnuts," Oliver
remarked to the sentry below him. They're
just dropping out OF the burrs now. 1 won
der II there's any danger?'
Private Gideon Gimble, having an exalted
idea OF his own dignity and of the rigid du-
ties of his post, frowned slightly by way of
reply But Sergt Piper who CHANGED to be
passing along, overheard the latter part of
divers remark
Don't be afraid, sonny" he said re-
assuringly. "icur hair amt in any
danger OF bein' lifted Why, I'd make my
afterdavit there amt a redSkin within
forty miles. They know better than to
NEEDLE with provincial troops an as long
as you people stay in this fort you're safe"
Il didn't mean that oliver began, in
dignantly, but the sergeant had already
paced out of hearing, and was negotiating
a loan of tobacco from his fellow officer.
A moment later Oliver jumped down from
the platform and thoughtfully crossed the
yard. sergeant Piper says there's no
danger" he reflected, land he ought to
know. I'm just ravenous for chestnuts. l
needn't go far. and l can easily get back
before I'm missed" He entered the block
house, and when he came out the rear door
two minutes afterward he had an empty
powder bag stuffed into his pocket
glance around satisfied him that the coast
was clear. He mounted the stockade on
the river side, climbed over, and dropped
lightly down in the grass.
From the bluff on which the fort stood
the lad descended to the ravine of the
creek, and after following this for half
the first mountain. The chesnuts were
not so plentiful as he had expected, and he
trudged up one side of the mountain and
down the other. He sorely wished that he
had his gun along, for quail and turkeys
constantly started up before him. and once
he caught distant glimpse of a deer.
Beguiled by the beauty of the day and by
the intoxication of his freedom, oliver
known as Little Mountain, where he filled
his bag with chestnuts in a short time. 1t
was now long past noon, and ne rueiuily
discovered that he was hungry and a good
distance from the fort.
AS he lay stretched on The sunny slope OF
a rock, partly up the mountain, a bright
idea occurred to him. Only mile and a
half away the sharp face OF Peters Noun
tain dropped into the Susquehanna, and
he could see the very clump of trees behind
which the home clearing stood. He re-
membered that in the hasty preparation for
flight he had concealed his fowling boat
dar Shal af a
What was to prevent his getting IT now,
and padding down the river to the fort?
There was no obstacle, as far as oliver
could see. A short tramp through the for
est would bring him to his home, and the
river was close by. 1t was far quicker
and easier to return by that route than by
the way he had come. Danger from IN
dams did not occur to him.
The more he thought of the Plan the bet
ter he liked 1t. He felt strong desire to
see how the place looked after week OF
solitude. Perhaps the chickens and ducks
had not been able to scratch living for
themselves, and were dying of starvation;
or Brown Bess, the COW, which his father
had driven far into the woods, had re-
turned to the empty stable ana missed the
companionship Of the two horses. who by
this time had carried Mr.. Lindsay and his
wife to Philadelphia
From simply wishing oliver easily per-
suaded himself that it was his bounden
duty to visit the settlement when so con-
yenient an opportunity offered. With
glance at the hazy sun he scrambled down
the slope to the heavy forest below. and
struck brskly off in bee line for Peters
mountain.
Before long he recognized familiar spots.
Here was the pool of the brook where he
had shared the big trout and there the
clump of hazel bushes in which he had
reused and shot his first pheasant
At last he broke from the shadowy oak
and chestnut timber into the meager clear
ing where stood the log house ana stoble.
AS he paused with natural instinct of
caution he felt sharp pang at the con-
trast between his life here and at the fort.
All seemed quiet and peaceful, so he
crossed a field of corn stubble to the stable.
The door was still closed AMI there was no
sign of Brown Bess. The chickens were
scratching about as calmly as though they
had not been at the mercy of four-foOted
providers for a week past, and the occa-
sional quack of happy duck came from
the hidden channel OF the run at the foot
Of the clearing.
A few steps farther brought Oliver to the
house and he opened the door and entered.
He glanced carelessly through the two
lower rooms, noting that what furniture
had been too heavy TO take to the fort was
undisturbed. Next he climbed the rickety
steps to the loft overhead, where he knew
that some maple sugar was stored in q
crar ny of the rafters. He easily found 1t
and was rolling a delicious morsel in his