Then Captain Dulaney spoke, and the sound of his steady voice quieted him.
“’Tis but a mass of iron fallen from space, old fellow—a meteor, they call it—a rare and interesting sight if one happens to be far enough away! Any nearer for us might have made Mistress Dulaney a widow without a riding horse!” He laughed reassuringly. “We will show the British a few stars like that at shorter range, pretty soon. What say you?”
Morgan waved his tail.
Next day folk went from everywhere to see the “fallen star,” and wise old women—who infested every community at that time—said it was an ill-omen, and meant victory for the British!
In the spring of 1814, the American Squadron lay in Otter Creek, which, flowing gently toward the lake, afforded safe anchorage for the vessels. In May as they were about to quit port, the enemy approached off the mouth of the creek with a well-matured plan to “bottle them up” by sinking two sloops filled with stones in the channel. But the Americans fired and frightened them off before they had played their clever trick.
In the middle of August the “Eagle” was launched and the murmur arose, “the British are gathering on the frontier.”
On September third began the real excitement. Before cock-crow the whole place was astir. Morgan, feeling the influence, was scarcely able to eat his breakfast. But when he finally finished, and was led out, the barracks were alive with soldiers and officers. Morgan champed his bit—ready to be gone on any errand that was needed. Seconds passed slowly, he was so eager to be off! In a few moments Lieutenant Van Sicklen sprang out of a near-by door, and gathering the reins in his hands swung himself into the saddle.
The old horse was off like a shot toward the goal, wherever it was, his rider close to his neck, talking to him as a lady-love might, whispering words of encouragement and affection.
They dashed down the hill at such speed that an old cow, lying comfortably in the road, chewing her morning cud, had the experience of acting as a hurdle. Seeing she could not possibly rise in time, the young officer gave Morgan the signal and over her they went! When she had recovered her stupid senses they were out of sight.
At last the hopes of the old horse were realized. He was serving his country and very soon understood the errand on which they were bent. He spurned the earth; stone fences stretched across his way; streams had to be forded; now and then a steep declivity appeared, but he was a “Bay,” and he remembered what they say of a bay in the Desert; rough fields, retarding forests, and wide stretches of valley did not discourage him. Hurrying on he found naught but broad, fine happiness. He was serving his country!