“In that case we’ll give them something to run from,” Captain Swartwout declared, and immediately issued orders for all his force, save fifty men, to prepare for a sally.
But before the little army could be made ready, Colonel St. Leger was on the move. Rendered uneasy by the desertion of his allies, alarmed by the tidings contained in the letter which had reached him so mysteriously, he lost hope when a Tory came into camp with the report:
“Old Schuyler and his whole army are only a few miles away.”
The Britisher gave orders to raise the siege. The cheers of the soldiers in the Yankee fort quickened his movements, and when the so-called rebels rushed out from the great gate, he and his regulars were on the run.
Reasoning that the small force in the garrison would not dare to make a sally unless reinforcements were close at hand, St. Leger did not even stop to skirmish with his pursuers; but hastened toward Oswego at a pace which soon forced the daring patriots to abandon the chase. When Colonel Arnold and his twelve hundred men arrived a few hours later, there was no foe to fight.
But some time before the gallant colonel appeared, Ira Le Geyt, Late Wentworth, and Joe Fisher were comparing notes and telling their experiences under the walls of the fort. When the latter heard of the victory at Bennington, he exclaimed:
“Well, if General Burgoyne’s left wing was clipped at Bennington, he has lost his entire right wing here at Fort Stanwix.”
CHAPTER XI.
THE OLD HUT.
When Colonel St. Leger abandoned the siege at Fort Stanwix, he left behind him two very angry men. One was old David Daggett, and the other Hiram Le Geyt. The former, cherishing his hatred for Latham Wentworth, had tried to keep informed of his fate; but the Indians who held him captive were, for some reason, very reticent about what they were going to do with the lad. So it happened the old Tory did not learn that the young scout had been condemned to the stake, until the afternoon of the proposed torture. He hurried toward the scene; but gained the bank of the river just in time to meet the band of yelling Indians in full flight.
Unable to speak their language, he could make out but little regarding the reason for flight; but turned and followed them to their encampment. There he met a brave who could speak a little English, and succeeded in learning that a white man, with an iron cross, had suddenly appeared, telling the Indians that there was no time for their cruel sport, because a great army of Yankees were near at hand.