Squirrels ran over the ground on the island and chattered down at them from the boughs. Clear and deep the blue lake lay, the woods coming to the very edge where poplars trembled in the clear light and tall, straight white-pines towered like sentinels.
From Island Point they could see Plattsburg Harbor, and here Captain Dulaney again sat for a long time buried in thought, looking across the wild, dark forest and lake.
At dusk they bent their faces homeward, both horse and rider absorbed in his own meditations until they reached College Hill.
Early next morning Samuel Stone came to bid the Morgan good-bye, telling him he had been bought by Captain Dulaney, and that he “was a very lucky horse!” Morgan knew this far better than Stone—wasn’t Mistress Dulaney coming, and would he not have the happiness of cantering under her saddle once more?
But she did not come at once. During the fall and winter of 1812 and 1813, the United States troops arrived and were settled in the College buildings, now called United States Barracks for the winter.
Captain Dulaney rode Morgan daily and taught him to be a true cavalry horse and to obey bugle calls. So obedient did he become and so conscientious was he, that, one day when he was attached to a “shay” at the foot of the hill, he heard the bugle sound “Charge.” He obeyed instantly on the impulse, snapping his hitch rein sharply. Up the hill he “charged” at full speed, the shay rattling on behind! ’Twas not his fault that it was not shaken into bits! From a colt it had been his instinct to obey without question, and certainly, at last, in the service of his country he did not hesitate!
Soldiers, off duty, lounging idly in the shade, roused themselves with a great roar of laughter as the old horse charged toward them. An orderly sprang forward and caught the bit. Not a strap, not a tug was broken! Every one cheered heartily, for “Old Justin Morgan” had come to be a character at the post and was loved by all, men as well as officers.
Time passed and still Mistress Dulaney did not come, though every day Morgan looked for the one great, human love of his life. He wondered if she remembered him—if she recalled the part he had played in freeing her from the Coxcomb, and winning her the man she loved.
In the spring of 1813, when the ice broke up, a fleet was fitted out. Oak timbers, cut on the Winooski, were sawed at the mills, nails and bolts were fashioned out of hot iron at the forges where even the bellows breathed patriotism. Masts and spars were tapered and sails made. Liberty poles were set up on eminences—the higher the pole the stronger the patriotism. Everything indicated war.
Commodore Macdonough took command of the lake and naval stores and ammunition arrived from the South. All seemed waiting for the call to arms when an epidemic of lung-fever broke out among the troops stationed at the barracks.