That is my memory of Cherry Valley in the sunny tranquillity of late afternoon, where tasseled corn like ranks of plumed Indians, covered vale and hillock; and clover and English grass grew green again after the first haying; and on some orchard trees the summer apples glimmered rosy ripe or lush gold among the leaves;—ah, God!—if I could have known what another year was to bring to Cherry Valley!
There was no sound in the still settlement except a dull and distant stirring made by the workmen sodding parapets on the new and unfinished fort.
From where I stood I could see the Wells house, and the little children at play in the dooryard; and Peter Smith, a servant, drawing water, who one day was to see his master's family in their blood.
I could make out Colonel Campbell's house, too, and the chimney of Colonel Clyde's house; and had a far glimpse of the residence of the Reverend Mr. Dunlop, the aged minister of Cherry Valley.
From a gilded weather-cock I was able to guess about where Captain M'Kean should reside; and Mr. Mitchell's barn I discovered, also. But M'Kean and his rangers must now be marching with Herkimer's five regiments to meet the hordes of St. Leger.
The sun sank blood-red behind the unbroken forests, and the sky over Cherry Valley seemed to be all afire as I turned away and entered the twilight of the woods, lugging my sack of provisions on my back.
That night my Indians and I lay within rifle-shot of the Mohawk River; and at dawn we made a crow-flight of it toward Oneida Lake; and found not a trace of Sir John or of anybody in that trackless wilderness; and so camped at last, exhausted and discouraged.
On the fourth day, toward sunset, the Screech-owl, roaming far out on our western flank, returned with news of a dead and stinking fire in the woods, and fish heads rotting in it; and he thought the last ember burnt out some four days since.
He took us to it in the dark, and his was a better woodcraft than I could boast, who had been Brent-Meester, too. At dawn we examined the ashes, but discovered nothing; and we were eating our parched corn and discussing the matter of the fire when, very far away in the west, a shot sounded; and in that same second we were on our feet and listening like damned men for the last trumpet.
My heart made a deadened rataplan like a muffled drum, and seemed to deafen me, so terribly intent was I.