CHAPTER XXVII
FIRE-FLIES
That night I lay on my blanket in the forest, but slept only three hours, and was awake in the gates of morning before the sun rose, ready to move on to the Wood of Brakabeen, our rendezvous in Schoharie.
Never shall I forget that August day so crowded with events.
And first in the yellow flare of sun-up, on the edge of a pasture where acres of dew sparkled, I saw a young girl milking; and went to her to beg a cup of new milk.
But she was very offish until she learned to what party I belonged, and then gave me a dipper full of sweet milk.
When I had satisfied my thirst, she took me by the hand and drew me into a grove of pines where none could observe us. And here she told me her name, which was Angelica Vrooman, and warned me not to travel through Schoharie by any highway.
For, said she, the district was all smouldering with disloyalty, and the Tories growing more defiant day by day with news of Sir John's advance and McDonald also on the way from the southward to burn the place and murder all.
"My God, sir," says she, in a very passion of horror and resentment, "I know not how we, in Schoharie, shall contrive, for Herkimer has called out our regiment and they march this morning to their rendezvous with the Palatine Regiment.
"What are we to do, sir? The Middle Fort alone is defensible; the Upper and Lower Forts are still a-building, and sodders still at labour, and neither ditch nor palisade begun."