As though to prove this, a party of the Southerners passed in review before the commanders shortly after they reached the camp. While advancing quickly, and at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards, they fired at a target seven inches in diameter. And each bullet found the mark!
Washington at once ordered these riflemen stationed at the outposts. Here they made themselves terrible to the British, and day by day this terror increased. Whatever they fired at they hit; and soon the King’s outposts dreaded to move except under cover. Rumors of the remarkable shooting of these men reached even so far as England; and one of them, who was made prisoner, was taken there. The newspapers described him with great minuteness; and the British public swarmed to see him and the motto “Liberty or Death” which he wore upon the breast of his hunting-shirt in common with his fellows.
Several times Washington tried to force the hand of Gage, as in his occupation of Ploughed Hill. But the British refused to accept the challenge. They bombarded the position, to be sure, and kept it up for the greater part of two weeks, but finally the firing ceased. During this summer, also, the celebrated Liberty Tree in Boston was attacked by the furious Tories and ruthlessly cut down.
October had arrived and the coming frost was felt in the night air. And as the chill grew deeper, the public room of “The Honest Farmer” grew more and more a place of resort for citizens and officers. One night the four boys had gathered there in company with Gilbert Scarlett. They sat before a slow fire of green wood, which served very well to take the discomfort out of the air, and were talking together upon topics of the time and listening to the sayings of those about them.
It seemed that “The Honest Farmer,” besides being a very pleasant inn, was a great place for grumblers. And just now some citizens, gathered about an oaken table, saw fit to criticize General Washington for what they called his inaction.
“What can he mean?” demanded one. “If the British will not come out to him, he should go in to them. This state of affairs, at the present rate, will continue on forever.”
“He was sent here to drive them out. Let him show that he is competent by at least attempting to do so,” grumbled another.
Thus they went on; each had his say in the matter and each said it churlishly and discontentedly.
“To be a military commander,” spoke Gilbert Scarlett to the boys, his booted legs stretched out to the fire, “is not to lie upon a bed of roses. Here we have a party of gentlemen who will speak their minds upon a subject upon which they have no information. They would have General Washington charge upon a strong position without powder enough to wake General Gage from his sleep. Apparently they possess rare enterprise, but their discretion is small, indeed.”
While he spoke Colonel Knox entered the room; after greeting some friends he made his way directly to where the boys were sitting. He was dressed in the blue uniform faced with white which had grown so familiar in those early days of the war; his face was bronzed through exposure to the weather, and his eyes were bright and full of a newly kindled eagerness.