“What does that mean?” he demanded.
The captive, a lad of perhaps eighteen years, looked at the floating banner and replied with a grin:
“That? Why, it’s the new flag of a new nation!”
With a great oath the enraged officer cried:
“It is the first and the last time it will ever confront a British army, for I shall carry it away with me.”
CHAPTER X.
CLIPPING THE RIGHT WING.
The young prisoner in the British camp, as the reader may have surmised, was Latham Wentworth. How he came to be there is easily explained.
After parting with Joe at the junction of the trails, he traveled with the same caution as when coming down Wood Creek, lest he might happen upon straggling Indians. After a time, however, he believed there was no longer any danger of falling in with the savages, and carelessly advanced regardless of noise. Then, from the top of a small hill, he saw the glimmer of fires in the Continental camp and, increasing his speed, took the most direct line through the woods.
A small party of Indians, however, separated from the main force earlier in the day, had wandered so far east of the garrison as to be attracted by the same camp-fires.
Unconscious of danger, Late continued on his course until, before he had heard anything to cause alarm, five savages leaped upon him. One seized his rifle; two threw him to the ground; a fourth clapped his hands over the captive’s mouth to prevent an outcry, while the remaining Indian proceeded to tie the lad’s hands behind him. Then they picked him up and hurried through the woods for some distance. Finding, however, they were not followed they soon put the prisoner on his feet, and, compelling him to keep pace with themselves, carried him to their encampment. Thrusting him into a wigwam they placed a guard over him and the young scout was left alone until morning.