Tim and Fritz settled down and made themselves as comfortable as possible, and waited patiently for the coming of darkness. They trusted that the redcoats would make some kind of move by that time, and they hoped and believed that the move would be in the direction of the main encampment of the British.
The two had brought some food with him, and when evening came, they ate a bite, after which they took turns going down and getting a drink at a little creek at the foot of the ridge.
As soon as dusk overspread the scene, they stole down closer to the encampment, and took up their station behind trees within fifty yards of the redcoats. They could hear the spoken words of the soldiers now, and heard them talking of going to a patriot settlement, of plundering it and burning the houses.
“So thot’s what they are afther doin’, eh?” muttered Tim. “Well, it’s mean spalpanes they are, an’ thot’s a fact.”
“Yah,” replied Fritz, cautiously. “Dot vos been a pretty mean vork vot dey are planning to do, alretty.”
“Let’s slip aroun’ an’ thry to get to the settlement an’ warn the patriots, Fritz,” whispered Tim.
“All righd, ve vill do dot.”
They were just about to start, when the redcoats suddenly broke camp--all they had to do was to pick up their muskets and start--and set out through the woods. Naturally exclamations of disappointment and dismay escaped the lips of the two.
“Dey’re goin’ to der settlement now!” exclaimed Fritz.
“Yis. Well, let’s follow thim. Mebby we can do somethin’ to hilp the patriots.”