The clear, mellow call dominated the tumult. A man in deerskin dropped from the rifle-platform, another descended the ladder, others came running from the log bastions, all flocking around me like brown deer herding to the leader's call.
"Fall in!" I scarce knew my own voice.
The eager throng of riflemen fell away into a long rank, stringing out across the jail yard.
"Shoulder arms! Right dress! Right face! Call off!"
The quick responses ran along the ranks: "Right! left! right! left!----"
"Right double!" I called. Then, as order followed order, the left platoon stepped forward, halted, and dressed.
"Take care to form column by platoons right, right front. To the right--face! March!"
The gates were flung wide as we passed through, and, wheeling, swung straight into the streets of Johnstown with a solid hurrah!
A battalion of Massachusetts infantry was passing St. John's Church, filling William Street with the racket of their drums. White cross-belts and rifles shining, the black-gaitered column plodded past, mounted officers leading. Then a field-piece, harness and chains clanking, came by, breasting the hill at a gallop, amid a tempest of cheers from my riflemen. And now the Tryon County men were passing in dusty ranks, and more riflemen came running up, falling in behind my company.
"There's Tim Murphy!" cried Elerson joyously. "He has your horse, Captain!"
Down the hill from Burke's Inn came Murphy on a run, leading my horse; behind him sped the Weasel and a rifleman named Sammons, and Burke himself, flourishing a rifle, all greeted lustily by the brown ranks behind me, amid shouts of laughter as Jimmy Burke, in cap and fluttering forest-dress, fell in with the others.
"Captain Renault, sorr--" I turned. Murphy touched his raccoon cap.
"Sorr, I hov f'r to repoort thot ye're sweet lady, sorr, is wid Butler at Johnson Hall."
"Safe?" My lips scarcely moved.
"Safe so far, sorr. She rides wid their Major, Ross, an' the shtaff-officers in gold an' green."
I sprang to the saddle, raised my rifle and shook it, A shrill, wolfish yelling burst from the Rangers.
"Forward!" And "Forward! forward!" echoed the sergeants, as we swung into a quick step.
The rifles on the hill by the Hall were speaking faster and faster now. A white cloud hid the Hall and the trees, thickening and spreading as a volley of musketry sent its smoke gushing into the bushes. Then, in the dun-colored fog, a red flame darted out, splitting the air with a deafening crash, and the thunder-clap of the cannon-shot shook the earth under our hurrying feet.
We were close to the Hall now. Behind a hedge fence running east our militia lay, firing very coolly into the wavering mists, through which twinkled the ruddy rifle-flames of the enemy. The roar of the firing was swelling, dominated by the tremendous concussions of the field-piece. I saw officers riding like mounted phantoms through the smoke; dead men in green, dead men in scarlet, and here and there a dead Mohawk lay in the hedge. A wounded officer of Massachusetts infantry passed us, borne away to the village by Schoharic militia.