Before ten o'clock all of the garrison were aware that five of the force had deserted, and those men who had been loudest spoken regarding the wisdom of surrendering, were now moving about very uneasily, doubtless fearing they might be called upon to answer for some of the unsoldierly remarks in which they had indulged.
There was no real confusion in the fort, but a general air of disquietude and apprehension, which I thought quite wholesome, since it caused every man to do his duty more promptly and more thoroughly than I had ever seen it done.
When those who had been summoned to headquarters appeared on the parade-ground once more, they were surrounded by eager comrades, all anxious to know what had been said to them; but they could give very little definite information, and were unwilling to talk openly regarding the matter, for the reason, as I fancied, that some of them, being privy to the desertion, had denied such fact to the officers.
Well, by noon it seemed as if the matter had entirely blown over. Everything went along much as on the day previous, save that, according to my idea, there was a more healthy tone among the men, because we no longer heard talk of surrender, and I suggested that perhaps Colonel Gansevoort was as glad to be rid of his mutinous soldiers as Sergeant Corney had been to see them depart.
It goes without saying that all of us, whether on duty or not, kept a sharper lookout over the enemy's encampment than ever before, for there was good reason to expect that St. Leger would order another assault; but not one of us dreamed of that horrible spectacle which was to be presented, much as if Thayendanega's murderers were of a mind to give would-be deserters such a lesson as could never be forgotten.
The afternoon passed quietly and without unusual incident; but when the sun was just about to set we observed the Indians crossing the river from their encampment to the meadow at a point near the creek, where it was possible for us to hold them in plain view, while they were yet beyond range of any except the heavier guns, which could not be brought to bear upon them.
The first movement was made by a party of a dozen or more, who seemed to be carrying heavy burdens on their backs, and this was such an unusual thing for a redskin to do that we were keenly curious.
This first squad was followed by a veritable swarm of the painted murderers, and I said nervously to Sergeant Corney, who was standing near me at the moment:
"The savages are goin' to try their hand at an assault, an' we're like to have warm work before mornin'."
"There's little fear anything of that kind will happen, lad. The painted devil never lived who was willin' to stand up an' fight face to face, man-fashion."