The next day was a leisure one, the harvest being secured. Holdness and Rangely strolled over to McClure's: soon Honeywood dropped in, Maccoy, Stewart, Ned Armstrong, Harry Sumerford, Andrew McClure, and others of the young men.
"Now, Ned," said Holdness, "there's a number of us here: we'll listen to your business, whatever 'tis. We've no separate interests, but are like so many peas in one pod, that all touch, and there's no parting 'twixt 'em."
Rangely looked round upon this noble group of stalwart men and youth with evident delight as he said,—
"Well, neighbors, I was sent here by those who pretend to know more'n I do, to raise men for a skirmage with these Delawares, Monseys, Shawanees, and what not red trash, that are whooping round, and scalping women and children. They want to raise three or four hundred men, and just wipe 'em out. They want men that can shoot and march, and know how to fight Indians in the woods; and they don't want nothing else. So you see, 'cause they knowed I was acquainted, they sent me up here."
"We're much obliged to 'em," said Holdness. "Didn't think the rest of the world knew we was in it, or cared whether we lived or died. Don't s'pose they did, till they happened to want to make use on us. It strikes me, Ned, they sent you on a fool's errand."
"I'm pretty much of the same opinion with Brad," said McClure,—"that we've got about enough to do to take care of ourselves and them what look to us. Here we've stood in death's door, as you may say, ever since the war began. There isn't a man, scarcely a boy, not to say children, what hasn't a scar on him; and some of us are pretty much cut to pieces. There's about as many of us under the sod, killed by Indians, as there are above it. And now you ask us to leave our families, forts, and guns, and go to fight for people who wouldn't lift a finger to help us, and wouldn't have let us have cannon nor powder if they could have helped it."
"As for me," said Armstrong, "I'm not going into them woods to throw away my life, and be ambushed by Indians, at the tail of these turkey-cocks like Braddock, who don't know the first thing of the duty they are sent to perform, and are fit only to lead men to death and destruction."
"Don't think we cast any reflection upon you, Ned," said Holdness, "for doing the errand; but you see how the neighbors feel about it."
"I've no doubt what you say is all true," replied Rangely,—"true as the Bible, and they say that's just so. But, you see, these Indians get together in their towns, three or four hundred of them: there they keep their women, children, and ammunition the French give 'em, lay out their plans, and divide their scalping-parties to go to those places they think most exposed. When they have struck their blow, they go back with their scalps and prisoners to have a great dance and jollification, and get ready for another raid, and the whites that are left flee into the older settlements, and leave the country to them. They don't kere any thing 'bout the forts: they're a good ways apart, and they can pass 'em night or day."
"That's so," said Maccoy.