“It shall be as you say, general,” the colonel replied.
“Here are your orders,” continued Burgoyne. “Seize those supplies; scour the country; test the disposition of the people; levy contributions on the towns, and last, though not least, bring back with you twelve or thirteen hundred horses.”
His subordinate repeated the orders, and then hurried away to get his troops ready for their long march by sunrise.
To the waiting scouts the general said:
“Go to your own quarters for a few hours’ rest. But you, Master Le Geyt, will hold yourself ready to guide Colonel Baum and his forces to Bennington to-morrow. Master Lyman, you will remain here to guide a second force to the same town should such a movement be necessary.”
At dawn the two lads stood side by side, watching the soldiers as they marched out of the gates. First went the trained Hessians, moving as perfectly as a piece of machinery; then came the Tories, trying to imitate the regulars in their military precision, but making poor work of it; finally came the Indians, straggling and sullen because they had been placed in the rear.
“The colonel should reverse the order of march,” Ira said in a low tone to Dan, as he noted the scowling faces of the savages.
“It isn’t the only mistake he’ll fall into ’fore he gets back,” was his comrade’s reply. Then he asked, “What day is it?”
“The thirteenth of August,” was the reply. “But why do you ask?”
“The thirteenth,” Dan repeated. “I thought so; it means bad luck for the expedition,” and he looked straight into the face of his companion.