Elsie on the Hudson

by Martha Finley

CHAPTER IX.

A pleasant surprise awaited our party on their return to Crag Cottage that evening, the bride and groom—Rosie and her husband—having arrived during their absence. Everybody was glad to see them; and, with the accommodations of the yacht to supplement those of the house, there was room and to spare.

Finding such to be the case, and that it was very pleasant to be together, all remained Evelyn's guests for another week, in which a great deal of time was passed upon the river taking repeated views of beautiful historic scenes.

But at length they separated for a time—some remaining where they were; some going to the seashore; while Grandma Elsie and the Raymonds, leaving the yacht at New York City, crossed the mountains into Pennsylvania, visited some historical scenes in that State, then traveled on through Ohio from south to north, spent a few weeks among the islands of Lake Erie; then, the yacht having come to them again by the northern route, returned home in it by way of the Welland Canal, the St. Lawrence River, and the Atlantic Ocean. On their route through Pennsylvania they spent a few days at Pocono, visiting the points of interest about there. Wilkesbarre was their next stopping place, for they all wanted to see the beautiful Valley of Wyoming.

"Is Wyoming an English name?" asked Elsie Raymond, as they drove through the valley.

"No," said her father; "it comes from the language of the Delawares, and means 'large plains.' It is probable that the Delawares were the first tribe which lived there."

"And is Wilkesbarre an Indian name too?" she asked.

"No; it is a compound of the names of two Englishmen who were good friends to America in the times of the Revolution—John Wilkes and Colonel Barre.

"The first European to visit the valley was Count Zinzendorf," continued the captain. "He was of an ancient Austrian family. He was a Christian man and very earnest in trying to do good. He travelled through Germany, Denmark, and England, and in 1741 came to America and preached at Bethlehem and Germantown. He was very desirous to do the poor Indians good, so travelled about among them, though he had no companions except an interpreter. In one of these excursions he crossed the Pocono, and came into this Valley of Wyoming. At this time he had with him a missionary named Mack and his wife. They pitched their tent upon the western bank of the Susquehanna, at the foot of a high hill and near a place in the river known as Toby's Eddy.

"Not very far away was a Shawnee village. The Indians held a council there to hear what these missionaries had to say, but could not believe that they had come all the way across the Atlantic just to teach religious truth to them. The conclusion they came to was that these strangers had come to spy out their country and rob them of their lands. Thinking thus, they made up their minds to murder the count. But they feared the English, therefore instructed those appointed to do the deed to be very secret about it.

"On a cool September night two stout Indians went stealthily from the town to the missionary's temporary dwelling—a tent with a blanket hung across the doorway. They drew the blanket stealthily aside and peeped in. They made no noise, and he was not aware of their presence, as he reclined on a bundle of weeds engaged in writing or in devout meditation.

"As Lossing says: 'The benignity of his countenance filled them with awe, but an incident (strikingly providential), more than his appearance, changed the current of their feelings. The tent cloth was suspended from the branches of a huge sycamore in such a manner that the hollow trunk of the tree was within its folds. At its foot the count had built a fire, the warmth of which had aroused a rattlesnake in its den; and at the moment when the savages looked into the tent the venomous reptile was gliding harmlessly across the legs of their intended victim, who did not see either the serpent or the lurking murderers. At that sight they at once entirely changed their opinion of him and regarded him as under the special protection of the Great Spirit.' They were filled with profound reverence for him, and went back to their tribe with such an account of his holiness that their enmity was changed to veneration."

"And I think history says a successful mission was established there," remarked Grandma Elsie, as the captain paused, as if at the end of his story.

"Yes," he replied, "and it was continued until a war between the
Shawnees and the Delawares destroyed the peace of the valley."

"What was that war about, papa?" asked Ned.

"Like many others it was about a very foolish thing," replied the captain. "The Shawnees were a not very powerful tribe, and lived by permission of the Delawares on the western bank of the Susquehanna. One day the warriors of both tribes were hunting upon the mountains when a party of women and children of the Shawnees crossed to the Delaware side to gather fruit, and were joined by some of the Delaware squaws and children. After a while two of the children—a Shawnee and a Delaware—got into a quarrel over a grasshopper. Then the mothers took part,—the Shawnees on one side, the Delawares on the other,—and the Delawares, who were the more numerous, drove the Shawnees home, killing several on the way. When the Shawnee hunters came home, saw their dead women, and heard the sad story, they were very angry, crossed the river, and attacked the Delawares. A bloody battle followed; the Shawnees were beaten, and retreated to the banks of the Ohio, where lived a larger portion of their tribe."

"There are not many more historic scenes in this State that we will care to visit at this time, are there, papa?" asked Grace.

"I think not," he said; "we are going west, and most of them are already east of us."

"But, father," said Lucilla, "we have hardly touched upon the history of Wyoming."

"True," he returned; "but it is so very sad that I fear its recital would rather detract from the enjoyment of this lovely scenery. However, I will give you a brief account of what took place here during the Revolutionary War.

"Early in the summer of 1778 the movements of Brant and his warriors, the Johnsons and Butlers and their Tory legions, upon the upper waters of the Susquehanna, and the actions of the Tories in the Wyoming Valley, greatly alarmed the people. Nearly all their able-bodied men were away in the Continental Army; none was left to defend the valley but old men, boys, and women. Afraid of the savages, they were building six forts, going through all the labor required in that work without payment except the hope of self-defence.

"Such was their condition when in June, 1778, an expedition of Tories and Indians was ready to come down upon them. All this was told to Congress. Wyoming men in the army besought protection for their wives and little ones, and General Schuyler wrote a touching letter in their behalf. But all Congress did was to pass resolutions to let the people take measures for self-defence by raising troops among themselves, and finding their own arms, accoutrements, and blankets.

"The people—poor creatures!—did their best; but, attacked by overwhelming numbers of the most savage foes, they went through terrible scenes and sufferings. I will not dwell further upon the horrors of that dreadful time. The Tories and Indians acted like fiends. Lossing, speaking of what occurred after the fight and surrender, says: 'The terms of capitulation were respected by the invaders, particularly the Indians, for a few hours only. Before night they spread through the valley, plundering and burning.'"

"Did the women and children run away, papa?" asked Ned.

"Yes; they fled to the mountains, and many of them perished in the Pocono Mountain swamp, known as the Shades of Death, and along the wilderness paths by the way of the Wind Gap and Water Gap. They were flying to the settlements on the Lehigh and Delaware. They were not travelling like ourselves—in an easy carriage, with abundance of food and clothing; and many died from hunger and exhaustion."

"Some of their clothes had been taken by the Indians," remarked Violet. "I remember reading that many squaws had on from four to six dresses of silk or chintz, one over the other; and some four or five bonnets, one over another."

"Papa, are we going to visit any more places in this State where they had fights?" asked Ned.

"Where there were battles fought, son? No, I think not at this time.
We will probably go on into Ohio now without any more delays."

"There were some fights there—weren't there, papa?" asked Elsie.

"Yes; between the whites and the Indians, and between the Americans and the British and Indians, in the war of 1812-14."

"Yes, children," said Lucilla; "don't you remember papa's telling us about some of the fights near Lake Erie, and Perry's victory on the lake?"

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed both the little ones; "and his letter to General Harrison—'We have met the enemy and they are ours.' And you'll tell us about the land fights, won't you, papa?"

"Yes," he said; "one of these days; probably while we are in Ohio."

"Are we going right on now to the islands in Lake Erie, papa?" asked
Grace.

"Unless some one or more of us should desire to stop by the way," returned the captain pleasantly.

"Perhaps it would be more restful to pass a night at Pittsburg or Cincinnati," suggested Grandma Elsie; and that was what was decided upon, after a little discussion of the question.

They rested in Cleveland for another night; then, on a bright morning, passed over to the islands in a steamer. A pleasant surprise awaited them on landing; their cousin Ronald Lilburn was there with his wife Annis and her grandnephew, Percy Landreth. The last-named was one whom Captain Raymond would have preferred not to have in the company,—but merely on Lucilla's account,—and he greeted him with cordial kindness.

"We have given you a surprise, haven't we?" asked Mrs. Lilburn of her cousin Elsie.

"Yes; a most pleasant one," replied Mrs. Travilla. "I can truly say I think your presence here will double our enjoyment. How long since you arrived?"

"Only about twenty-four hours. We came straight from home, where we left all your dear ones well."

"Ah, that is good news! It is a new thing for me to be so far away from my dear father; and he is growing old; so I have been feeling a little anxious about him."

"He evidently misses you, but is glad that you are enjoying yourself," said Annis.

"Yes! so unselfish as he is—my dear father! Ah, how lovely it is here!" glancing about as she spoke. "No doubt we can pass some days or weeks here very delightfully."

"I am quite sure of it, mother," said the captain, who had overheard the remark, made as they all were on their way from the landing to the hotel. "We will have the yacht here in a day or two, I think; and it will afford us some pleasant trips here and there on the lake."

"And carry us to some historical scenes, won't it, papa?" asked Grace in a tone of satisfaction.

"Yes," he replied; "and we will live on it, unless the majority of our company should prefer the hotel."

"No danger of that, I think," said Grandma Elsie; "we all feel so much at home and find ourselves so comfortable on the yacht."

"I don't wonder that you prefer it," said Annis; "but I was hoping you would all be at the hotel with us."

"Are you not willing to be on the Dolphin with us?" asked the captain, giving her a cordial look and smile.

"Indeed, sir, I should like nothing better—except for the fear of crowding you."

"I think that is beyond your ability," laughed the captain. "Even joined by all three of you, we should have more room than we have had in some of our trips which we found very enjoyable."

"Then we accept your kind invitation with the greatest pleasure," said Mr. Lilburn; and there the conversation ended, as they were already at the entrance to the hotel.

They spent a pleasant day in and about there, but early in the evening the Dolphin made her appearance, and they all went aboard of her—a blithe and happy company.

The morning found them all in good health and good spirits, and as they sat about the breakfast table the captain asked: "Where shall we go to-day? I think it would be well to take the little trips we contemplate while the weather is so favorable. Then when a storm comes we can shut ourselves in and enjoy books, work, and each other's company."

"I think that is a good suggestion, captain," said Grandma Elsie.
"Suppose you take us to-day to Fremont, to view the ground where Fort
Stephenson stood."

Everyone present seemed pleased with the proposition, and it was decided to make the little excursion that morning. They could go nearly all the way in their yacht, by lake and river, and shortly after breakfast found themselves in motion—the Dolphin having lain quietly at anchor during the night.

"I, for one, should like to refresh my memory in regard to Fort Stephenson: when it was built, by whom attacked, and how defended," remarked Annis, as they sat together on the deck while sailing toward Sandusky Bay. "Captain Raymond, you are usually the story teller, I believe."

"Ah, Cousin Annis, that is a fine character you give me," he returned with a smile. "But perhaps I deserve it. Do all the company feel the same desire that Mrs. Lilburn has just expressed?"

"I do," said Grandma Elsie; "and from the expression of the faces of the others present I am quite sure that they do also."

"Yes, indeed, papa; I am sure we do!" cried Lucilla and Grace in a breath, Percy Landreth, Elsie, and Ned joining eagerly in the request; and the captain at once began.

"Fort Stephenson was built in 1812; the garrison consisted of 160 men under the command of Major George Croghan, then but twenty-one years of age. It was on the 31st of July, 1813, that it was invested by a large force of British and Indians under the command of Proctor. The fort was not a strong one; its chief defences were three block houses, circumvallating pickets from fourteen to sixteen feet high, and a ditch about eight feet wide and as many feet deep; they had one iron six-pounder cannon. Of course, swords and rifles were not lacking, and the men were Kentucky sharpshooters.

"General Harrison heard that the British were moving against Fort Stephenson. He had visited the fort, and felt convinced that it could not be held against an attack with heavy artillery, so had said to Major Croghan: 'Should the British approach you in force with cannon, and you can discover them in time to effect a retreat, you will do so immediately, destroying all the public stores. You must be aware that to attempt a retreat in the face of an Indian force would be vain. Against such an enemy your garrison would be safe, however great the number.'

"On learning of the intended descent of the British upon Fort Stephenson, Harrison held a consultation with his officers—McArthur, Holmes, Graham, Paul, Hukill, Wood, and Ball. They were unanimously of the opinion that Fort Stephenson could not be successfully defended against an enemy approaching in such force, and that Major Croghan ought immediately to comply with his general's standing order to evacuate."

"Moving order, I should think, father," laughed Lucilla.

"Yes," returned the captain with a smile; "but knowing Croghan's innate bravery, Harrison feared he would not move promptly, so sent him another order to abandon the fort. It was carried by a white man named Connor and two Indians. They started at midnight and lost their way in the dark. So they did not reach the fort until the next day about eleven o'clock, and by that time the woods were swarming with Indians.

"Major Croghan called his officers together and consulted them in regard to a retreat. A majority were of his opinion—that such a step would be disastrous, now that the Indians swarmed in the woods, and that the post might be maintained.

"Croghan immediately sent a reply to Harrison's order, saying it had come too late to be carried into execution, that they had determined to maintain the place—that they could and would do so. It was a disobedience of orders, but not so intended. The gallant young major thought that the previous order, which spoke of the danger of a retreat in the face of an Indian force, justified him in remaining, as that force was already there when this second order reached him.

"But the general considered it disobedience, which could not be permitted. He at once sent Colonel Wells to Fort Stephenson to supersede Croghan, and ordered Croghan to headquarters at Seneca Town. Colonel Wells was escorted by Colonel Ball with his corps of dragoons. On the way they were attacked by about twenty Indians, and quite a severe skirmish ensued. Seventeen of the Indians were killed."

"Papa, did Major Croghan go to the general? and was he very cross to him?" asked Ned.

"He went promptly, made a full and satisfactory explanation to General Harrison, and was directed to go back to his command the next morning; which he did, feeling more than ever determined to maintain his post in spite of British and Indians. General Harrison kept scouts out in all directions to watch the movements of the enemy. On the evening of Saturday, the 31st of July, one of those parties, lingering on the shore of Sandusky Bay, about twenty miles from Fort Stephenson, saw that Proctor was approaching by water. They made haste to return to headquarters with their information, stopping on the way at Fort Stephenson and making it known there.

"Croghan was watchful, wide awake to the dangers that surrounded them. A good many Indians had been seen upon the high ground on the eastern side of the Sandusky River, but had scampered away on being fired at from the six-pounder in the fort.

"At four o'clock in the afternoon the British gunboats, bringing Proctor and his men, were seen at a turn in the river more than a mile distant. They were greeted by shots from the six-pounder, but they came on; and at a cove somewhat nearer the fort, opposite a small island in the stream, they landed with a five-and-a-half-inch howitzer.

"At the same time the Indians showed themselves in the woods on all sides. In this attacking force there were four hundred British and several hundred Indians. And Tecumseh was stationed upon the roads leading from Fort Meigs and Seneca Town with almost two thousand more. These were intended to intercept any re-enforcements that might be coming to Croghan's assistance. Having thus, as he thought, cut off Croghan's retreat, Proctor sent Colonel Elliott and Captain Chambers to demand the instant surrender of the fort. With them was Captain Dixon of the Royal Engineers, who was in command of the Indians.

"They came with a flag of truce, and Croghan sent out
Second-Lieutenant Shipp, as his representative, to meet the flag.

"The usual salutations were exchanged, then Colonel Elliott said, 'I am instructed to demand the instant surrender of the fort, to spare the effusion of blood, which we cannot do should we be under the necessity of reducing it by our powerful force of regulars, Indians, and artillery.'

"'My commandant and the garrison,' replied Shipp, 'are determined to defend the post to the last extremity, and bury themselves in its ruins rather than surrender it to any force whatever.'

"'Look at our immense body of Indians,' interposed Dixon. 'They cannot be restrained from massacring the whole garrison, in the event of our undoubted success.'

"'Our success is certain,' eagerly added Chambers.

"'It is a great pity,' said Dixon, in a beseeching tone, 'that so fine a young man as you and as your commander is represented to be, should fall into the hands of the savages. Sir, for God's sake surrender, and prevent the dreadful massacre that will be caused by your resistance!'

"'When the fort shall be taken there will be none to massacre,' Shipp coolly replied, for it was not long since, at Fort Meigs, he had had dealings with the same foe. 'It will not be given up while a man shall be able to resist.'

"He was just turning to go back to the fort, when an Indian sprang from a bushy ravine near at hand and tried to snatch his sword from him. The indignant Shipp was about to despatch the Indian, when Dixon interfered. Then Croghan, who was standing on the ramparts watching the conference, called out, 'Shipp, come in, and we'll blow them all to ——!' At that, Shipp hurried into the fort, the flag was returned, and the British immediately opened fire from their gunboat and the five-and-a-half-inch howitzer which they had landed, beginning the attack before proper arrangements could be made.

"It seems the Indians had had an alarm and let the British know of it. A Mr. Aaron North, knowing nothing of the proximity of British or Indians, was riding through the wood, drawing near the fort on the other side of the Sandusky, when he discovered a large body of Indians scattered along the river bank and half concealed by the bushes. He wheeled his horse and fled in the direction of Seneca. The startled Indians fired several shots after him, but without hitting him. The Indians doubtless told the British of all this, and Proctor thought the horseman a messenger to Harrison to inform him of the attack upon Fort Stephenson, and that the result would probably be that re-enforcements would be sent to Croghan, would beat back Tecumseh, and fall upon him at Sandusky.

"All night long the five six-pounders which had been landed from the British gunboats, and the howitzer, played upon the stockade without doing any serious damage. Occasionally the besieged answered with their one cannon, which they moved from one blockhouse to another, to give the impression that the garrison had several heavy guns. But their supply of ammunition was small, and Croghan was too wise to waste it. He determined not to use any more in firing at random in the dark; so ordered Captain Hunter, his second in command, to place it in the blockhouse at the middle of the north side of the fort, so as to rake the ditch in the direction of the northwest angle—the point where the enemy would be most likely to make the assault, because it was the weakest part.

"That was done before daylight, and the gun, loaded with a half-charge of powder and a double charge of slugs and grapeshot, was completely masked.

"During the night the British had dragged three of their six-pounders to a place in the woods where the ground was higher than the fort and about 250 yards from it. Early in the morning they began a brisk fire upon the blockade from those and the howitzer."

"Oh, papa, how dreadful!" exclaimed Elsie. "Did all of our men get shot?"

"No; the cannonade produced very little effect, and Proctor grew very impatient. The long hot day was nearly done, and the Indians were becoming restless. At four o'clock in the afternoon he ordered all his guns to fire upon that weak northwest angle.

"Then Croghan and his men set to work to strengthen it as much as possible. They piled bags of sand and sacks of flour against the pickets there, which materially broke the force of the cannonade. At five o'clock a dark thunder cloud was seen in the west and the thunder seemed like the echo of the enemy's cannon. Then the British came on in two close columns, led by Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel Short and Lieutenant Gordon. At the same time a party of grenadiers, about 200 strong, under Lieutenant-Colonel Warburton, took a wide circuit through the woods to make a feigned attack upon the southern front of the fort, where Captain Hunter and his party were stationed.

"There was in the fort at the time a man named Brown, a private of the
Petersburgh volunteers, with a half-dozen of his corps and Pittsburgh
Blues. To them was entrusted the management of the six-pounder in the
fort, for Brown was skilled in gunnery.

"The British artillery played incessantly upon the northwestern angle of the fort, causing a dense smoke, and under cover of that a storming party under Lieutenant-Colonel Short advanced to within fifteen or twenty paces of the outworks before they were discovered by the garrison. But they were Kentucky sharpshooters, and every man of them was at his post. Instantly they poured upon the assailants a shower of rifle balls sent with such deadly aim that the British were thrown into confusion. But they quickly rallied. The axemen pushed bravely forward over the glacis, and leaped into the ditch to assail the pickets. Short was at their head, and when a sufficient number were in the ditch behind him, he shouted, 'Cut away the pickets, my brave boys, and show the d——d Yankees no quarter!'

"Now the time had come for the six-pounder to make itself heard. The masked port flew open instantly, and the gun spoke with terrible effect. Slug and grapeshot streamed along that ditch overflowing with human life, and spread awful havoc there. Few of those British soldiers escaped. The second column of the storming party made a similar attempt, but was met by another discharge from the six-pounder and another destructive volley of rifle-balls."

"Was anybody killed, papa?" asked Ned.

"Yes, a good many were," replied his father. "Colonel Short, Lieutenant Gordon, Laussaussie of the Indian Department, and 25 privates were left dead in the ditch, and 26 of the wounded were made prisoners. Three other officers were slightly wounded, but escaped. The rest of the attacking party retreated in haste and disorder.

"It was not until after that disaster that Warburton and his grenadiers reached the south front of the fort. When they did, Hunter's corps assailed them with a destructive volley, and they fled for shelter to the adjacent woods. It is said that Lieutenant-Colonel Short, when he fell, twisted a white handkerchief on the end of his sword, asking the mercy he had exhorted his men not to show to the Americans."

"Oh, I hope they did show it to him, papa," said Elsie.

"I think they would have done so had opportunity offered," said the captain; "but he was found dead in the ditch."

"And were any of our people killed?" she asked.

"One man was killed and 7 were slightly wounded; while, according to the most careful estimates, the loss of the British in killed and wounded was 120. They behaved most gallantly, getting no assistance from the cowardly Indians, who kept themselves out of harm's way in a ravine near by.

"The assault had lasted only about half an hour. Lossing tells us, 'The dark storm cloud in the west passed northward, the setting sun beamed out with peculiar splendor, a gentle freeze from the southwest bore the smoke of battle far away over the forest toward Lake Erie, and in the lovely twilight of that memorable Sabbath evening the brave young Croghan addressed his gallant little band with eloquent words of praise and grateful thanksgiving. As the night and the silence deepened, and the groans of the wounded in the ditch fell upon their ears, his generous heart beat with sympathy. Buckets filled with water were let down by ropes from the outside of the pickets; and as the gates of the fort could not be opened with safety during the night, he made a communication with the ditch by means of a trench, through which the wounded were borne into the fort and their necessities supplied.'"

"Oh, how good and kind he was!" exclaimed Grace. "I am proud of him as one of my countrymen. Is he still living, papa?"

"No, daughter; he died in New Orleans on January 8, 1849."

"The anniversary of the great victory there in the War of 1812! Was he not rewarded for his gallant defence of Fort Stephenson?"

"Yes; he was brevetted lieutenant-colonel for his gallantry, and some twenty years later Congress voted him a gold medal in acknowledgment of it. In 1846 he joined Taylor's army in Mexico and served with credit at the Battle of Monterey."

"You have given us an interesting tale, captain," remarked Cousin Ronald as the story seemed to have come to an end—"one that was really new to me; for I have read but little about that war—which I hope we can always refer to as the last between the mother country and this, my adopted one—the native land of my bonny young wife," he added with a loving and admiring look at Annis.

"Ah, my dear, how true it is that love is blind," said Annis softly, giving him a look of fond appreciation.

"Ha, ha! A pair of old lovers!" laughed a voice that seemed to come from somewhere in the rear of the little party.

"Yes, that's what we are," said Annis with mirthful look and tone.

"And who are you that dares to say such saucy things to our company?" asked Ned, looking sharply round toward the spot from which the voice had seemed to come.

"Somebody that has a tongue of his own and a right to use it," returned the voice, but the speaker was still invisible.

"Well, whoever you are you've no business here on my father's yacht without an invitation," cried Ned, hurrying toward the spot from which the strange voice seemed to come.

"You silly, impudent youngster! I'm not here without an invitation," said the voice, seeming to come from a greater distance than before.

"Not?" exclaimed Ned; "then who invited you?"

"The captain and owner of the vessel."

Ned turned to his father. "Did you invite him, papa, and who is he?" Then, perceiving a look of amusement on every face, "Oh, I know! Why didn't I think before? It's just Cousin Ronald playing he's somebody else."

"Yes, laddie, and he's rather an auld mon to be playing at anything," returned the old gentleman pleasantly. "Dinna ye think so?"

"No, sir; and it's good of you to make a little fun for us youngsters."

"As well as for us older folks," added his mother in a sprightly tone.

"I thought it was a fellow who had no business here," said Ned, "but you are as welcome as anything, Cousin Ronald."

"Aye, laddie, I dinna doubt it or I wadna be here," laughed the old gentleman; "but I know there are no more hospitable folk to be found anywhere then these American cousins o' mine."

"I should think not, sir," said Neddie with a smiling glance from one parent to the other; "and I believe there's nobody they like better to entertain than you."

"Is Fort Stephenson still standing, papa?" asked Grace.

"No," was the reply, "but we can see the site, which is in the bosom of the village of Fremont, and covers about two-thirds of a square. We will no doubt find someone who can and will point it out to us and show us the ravine where the Indians fled after the first discharge of the rifle-balls by the garrison; and the iron six-pounder cannon that did such great execution in defence of the fort; also the landing place of the British. By the way, the garrison named that cannon the 'Good Bess.'"

"Oh, I hope we will see it," said Ned. "I'd like to."

They reached their destination in time to see the cannon and all the interesting places and things made memorable by their connection with the struggle at Fort Stephenson, then returned to the yacht, sailed out into the bay again, and anchored for the night.