But for my being unused to this work of writing, and finding it difficult to set down the words in clerkly fashion, I might say much concerning the blockhouse on the Point and its occupants.
There were men of eighty years, and lads younger than Alec, among the party who called themselves the “garrison,” and all of them were known to me; therefore it was much like being among kinsfolk to be quartered with them.
During the first two days Alec and I had plenty of company when we glided over the smooth ice, up the lake in the direction of Niagara River, on what we were pleased to call scouting expeditions; and but for the fact that young Perry insisted upon considering himself in the backwoods, we should have gotten on famously with the young members of the garrison.
Alec, however, having just come from Newport, and not yet used to our customs, persisted in speaking of the surroundings as if he believed himself in an uncivilized country, and many of the lads were disgruntled because, as they said, he put on airs.
To this charge Alec is now willing to plead guilty, although at the time I question if he realized how greatly he set himself above us, until after coming to understand that he had much to learn from the people of Presque Isle.
All this may seem trifling matter to set down on the pages of what is intended to be the story of how Oliver Perry made himself famous on Lake Erie; but yet it led us into an adventure which came near costing the country the unfinished vessels that were sadly needed, and us our lives.
Four times had we left the blockhouse, accompanied by a dozen or more lads, and skated ten or fifteen miles up the lake and back. Then our companions, taking offence at some idle words used by Alec, declared they would not set out with us again.
It was a threat which had but little weight with my comrade or myself, since we had a desire to be alone with each other, and on the morning of the third day, when the sky was gray with threatening-looking clouds, we left the blockhouse, counting to return there but once more before going home, for the time set by my father had come to an end.
Whether we should continue this sport of playing at being scouts, we had decided to leave to Noah Brown, a shipwright who came from New York City, and who was in charge of the works at Presque Isle during my father’s absence.
“I regret that the lads were offended with my idle words of yesterday; but yet it is pleasant to set out alone with you, Dicky,” Alec said, as we skimmed over the smooth ice in such direction as would bring us to the easternmost battery on the opposite shore. “One might think, to hear those in the garrison talk, that we were surrounded by Britishers, and I have been waiting for an opportunity to ask if you believe the enemy to be near at hand.”