“He is dead!” Joe exclaimed, catching the spy in his arms as he sank slowly back into the bow of the boat.
These words were heard on the opposite shore, and immediately old David Daggett leaped upon the rock behind which he had been concealed. Swinging his hat above his head, he shouted:
“Hurrah! We’ve killed one of them! We’ve killed one of them!”
Late seized his rifle and fired at the old man, muttering as he did so: “I’ll fix you, you old Tory!”
His bullet, however, struck, not the old, but the younger Tory, Hiram Le Geyt, who at that moment had sprung up to pull his father-in-law down behind the barricade.
The occupants of the canoe could not tell whether he was killed, or only wounded. But they heard Captain Brant’s voice directing two negroes to carry their master into the woods where he would be out of range of the flying bullets. Then Ira, without exposing himself, called to the Indian:
“Captain Brant, one of your shots struck our prisoner, who was only slightly wounded, in the breast, killing him instantly. We will leave his body, and everything that belongs to him, in the canoe. You may take possession of the craft at any time. We will not disturb you.”
Then he and his comrades, after securing the boat to the nearest tree, leaped ashore and entered the forest. Before they were out of hearing, however, the reply of the Mohawk chief could be heard:
“Thanks, lads! I’ll care for him as soon as I can leave my friend here, who is, I fear mortally wounded.”
“That hardly sounds like the bloodiest chieftain in the valley,[7] does it?” Ira said, as he and his companions hastened along. “Even he seems to appreciate a thoughtful act.”