The flag-officer of the enemy, as soon as he came within range, seeing Murphy bring his rifle to his shoulder, immediately turned and ran back; he had no mind to encounter the sharp warning which had been given his predecessors.
Then followed a moment of suspense. The little garrison expected nothing better than an angry and overwhelming assault; the men breathed heavily, grasping their muskets sternly, while the women's faces grew like those of their fathers and husbands, settling into the firm lines of resolve. Moment after moment crept away; a half-hour sped, and yet the roar of artillery and the nearer shouts of the expected assailants were not heard.
"You needn't give yourself no further oneasiness, Major," at length spoke the gallant Murphy, contempt mingling with relief and joy in his voice. He had kept his gaze fixed upon the movements of the enemy, and now perceived that they were retiring. "The red-coats and red-skins are takin' themselves off. It's jest as I told you—the spunk we've shown makes 'em think us stronger than we are, and they've made up their minds to back out."
And so, indeed, it proved! "The spunk we've shown" Murphy modestly said; which was really the spunk he had shown. His courage and persistence saved Fort Hunter. The British officers naturally supposed their flag of truce would not be three times fired upon unless that fort was to be defended to the death. They therefore decided to withdraw, and to abandon the attempt for its capture.
Murphy Saving the Fort—Page [22].
Thus was the fort, with all its precious lives, preserved by the tact as well as the determination of a single man. However chagrined the "gallant" Major may have been at the flagrant disobedience of an inferior, the results were such as to nullify the consequences of his anger. The fact that the fort was saved was the mutineer's justification.
This affair occurred in 1780. It was not the first gallant exploit of our hero—nor the last. He had already made himself famous by deeds both of daring, dashing boldness, and deliberate courage.
Three years before the attack on Fort Hunter, at the battle of Stillwater in 1777, he had killed the British General, Frazer, by a ball from his unerring rifle. This is the first record we have of him; but after that many instances were noted of his extraordinary prowess, and many more, doubtless, of equal interest, never have received a chronicle. He had a peculiar hatred of the Indians, called forth by the many proofs of their treachery and cruelty. He was a valuable acquisition to any party of scouts who might be out after the red-skins; and many were the marvelous escapes he had.
As an instance of that obstinacy of his character exhibited in his conduct at the attack upon Fort Hunter, we must give the reader an account of another and quite different circumstance, in which he displayed the same determination to have his own way—and in which he had it! This little episode in the life of the celebrated rifleman is not only interesting in itself, but also as showing under what difficulties the little GOD OF LOVE will struggle and triumph.