The Spy by James Fenimore Cooper (free biff chip and kipper ebooks .TXT) 📕

piles, the river, as if rejoicing at its release from the struggle, expanded into a wide bay, which was ornamented by a few fertile and low points that jutted humbly into its broad basin. On the opposite, or western shore, the rocks of Jersey were gathered into an array that has obtained for them the name of the “Palisades,” elevating themselves for many hundred feet, as if to protect the rich country in their rear from the inroads of the conqueror; but, disdaining such an enemy, the river swept proudly by their feet, and held its undeviating way to the ocean. A ray of the rising sun darted upon the slight cloud that hung over the placid river, and at once the whole scene was in motion, changing and assuming new forms, and exhibiting fresh objects in each successive moment. At the daily rising of this great curtain of nature, at the present time, scores of white sails and sluggish vessels are seen thickening on the water, with that air of life which denotes the neighborhood to the metropolis of a great and flourishing empire; but to Henry and the peddler it displayed only the square yards and lofty masts of a vessel of war, riding a few miles below them. Before the fog had begun to move, the tall spars were seen above it, and from one of them a long pennant was feebly borne abroad in the current of night air, that still quivered along the river; but as the smoke arose, the black hull, the crowded and complicated mass of rigging, and the heavy yards and booms, spreading their arms afar, were successively brought into view.

“There, Captain Wharton,” said the peddler, “there is a safe resting place for you; America has no arm that can reach you, if you gain the deck of that ship. She is sent up to cover the foragers, and support the troops; the rig’lar officers are fond of the sound of cannon from their shipping.”

Without condescending to reply to the sarcasm conveyed in this speech, or perhaps not noticing it, Henry joyfully acquiesced in the proposal, and it was accordingly arranged between them, that, as soon as they were refreshed, he should endeavor to get on board the vessel.

While busily occupied in the very indispensable operation of breaking their fast, our adventurers were startled with the sound of distant firearms. At first a few scattering shots were fired, which were succeeded by a long and animated roll of musketry, and then quick and heavy volleys followed each other.

“Your prophecy is made good,” cried the English officer, springing upon his feet. “Our troops and the rebels are at it! I would give six months’ pay to see the charge.”

“Umph!” returned his companion, without ceasing his meal, “they do very well to look at from a distance; I can’t say but the company of this bacon, cold as it is, is more to my taste, just now, than a hot fire from the continentals.”

“The discharges are heavy for so small a force; but the fire seems irregular.”

“The scattering guns are from the Connecticut militia,” said Harvey, raising his head to listen; “they rattle it off finely, and are no fools at a mark. The volleys are the rig’lars, who, you know, fire by word—as long as they can.”

“I like not the warmth of what you call a scattering fire,” exclaimed the captain, moving about with uneasiness; “it is more like the roll of a drum than skirmishers’ shooting.”

“No, no; I said not skrimmagers,” returned the other, raising himself upon a knee, and ceasing to eat; “so long as they stand, they are too good for the best troops in the royal army. Each man does his work as if fighting by the job; and then, they think while they fight, and don’t send bullets to the clouds, that were meant to kill men on earth.”

“You talk and look, sir, as if you wished them success,” said Henry, sternly.

“I wish success to the good cause only, Captain Wharton. I thought you knew me too well, to be uncertain which party I favored.”

“Oh! you are reputed loyal, Mr. Birch. But the volleys have ceased!”

Both now listened intently for a little while, during which the irregular reports became less brisk, and suddenly heavy and repeated volleys followed.

“They’ve been at the bayonet,” said the peddler; “the rig’lars have tried the bayonet, and the rebels are driven.”

“Aye, Mr. Birch, the bayonet is the thing for the British soldier, after all. They delight in the bayonet!”

“Well, to my notion,” said the peddler, “there’s but little delight to be taken in any such fearful weapon. I dare say the militia are of my mind, for half of them don’t carry the ugly things. Lord! Lord! captain, I wish you’d go with me once into the rebel camp, and hear what lies the men will tell about Bunker Hill and Burg’yne; you’d think they loved the bayonet as much as they do their dinners.”

There was a chuckle, and an air of affected innocency about his companion, that rather annoyed Henry, and he did not deign to reply.

The firing now became desultory, occasionally intermingled with heavy volleys. Both of the fugitives were standing, listening with much anxiety, when a man, armed with a musket, was seen stealing towards them, under the shelter of the cedar bushes, that partially covered the hill. Henry first observed this suspicious-looking stranger, and instantly pointed him out to his companion. Birch started, and certainly made an indication of sudden flight; but recollecting himself, he stood, in sullen silence, until the stranger was within a few yards of them.

“’Tis friends,” said the fellow, clubbing his gun, but apparently afraid to venture nearer.

“You had better retire,” said Birch; “here are rig’lars at hand. We are not near Dunwoodie’s horse now, and you will not find me an easy prize to-day.”

“Damn Major Dunwoodie and his horse!” cried the leader of the Skinners (for it was he); “God bless King George! and a speedy end to the rebellion, say I. If you would show me the safe way in to the refugees, Mr. Birch, I’ll pay you well, and ever after stand your friend, in the bargain.”

“The road is as open to you as to me,” said Birch, turning from him in ill-concealed disgust. “If you want to find the refugees, you know well where they lay.”

“Aye, but I’m a little doubtful of going in upon them by myself; now, you are well known to them all, and it will be no detriment to you just to let me go in with you.”

Henry here interfered, and after holding a short dialogue with the fellow, he entered into a compact with him, that, on condition of surrendering his arms, he might join the party. The man complied instantly, and Birch received his gun with eagerness; nor did he lay it upon his shoulder to renew their march, before he had carefully examined the priming, and ascertained, to his satisfaction, that it contained a good, dry, ball cartridge.

As soon as this engagement was completed, they commenced their journey anew. By following the bank of the river, Birch led the way free from observation, until they reached the point opposite to the frigate, when, by making a signal, a boat was induced to approach. Some time was spent, and much precaution used, before the seamen would trust themselves ashore; but Henry having finally succeeded in making the officer who commanded the party credit his assertions, he was able to rejoin his companions in arms in safety. Before taking leave of Birch, the captain handed him his purse, which was tolerably well supplied for the times; the peddler received it, and, watching an opportunity, he conveyed it, unnoticed by the Skinner, to a part of his dress that was ingeniously contrived to hold such treasures.

The boat pulled from the shore, and Birch turned on his heel, drawing his breath, like one relieved, and shot up the hills with the strides for which he was famous. The Skinner followed, and each party pursued the common course, casting frequent and suspicious glances at the other, and both maintaining a most impenetrable silence.

Wagons were moving along the river road, and occasional parties of horse were seen escorting the fruits of the inroad towards the city. As the peddler had views of his own, he rather avoided falling in with any of these patrols, than sought their protection. But, after traveling a few miles on the immediate banks of the river, during which, notwithstanding the repeated efforts of the Skinner to establish something like sociability, he maintained a most determined silence, keeping a firm hold of the gun, and always maintaining a jealous watchfulness of his associate, the peddler suddenly struck into the highway, with an intention of crossing the hills towards Harlem. At the moment he gained the path, a body of horse came over a little eminence, and was upon him before he perceived them. It was too late to retreat, and after taking a view of the materials that composed this party, Birch rejoiced in the rencounter, as a probable means of relieving him from his unwelcome companion. There were some eighteen or twenty men, mounted and equipped as dragoons, though neither their appearance nor manners denoted much discipline. At their head rode a heavy, middle-aged man, whose features expressed as much of animal courage, and as little of reason, as could be desired for such an occupation. He wore the dress of an officer, but there was none of that neatness in his attire, nor grace in his movements, that was usually found about the gentlemen who bore the royal commission. His limbs were firm, and not pliable, and he sat his horse with strength and confidence, but his bridle hand would have been ridiculed by the meanest rider amongst the Virginians. As he expected, this leader instantly hailed the peddler, in a voice by no means more conciliating than his appearance.

“Hey! my gentlemen, which way so fast?” he cried, “Has Washington sent you down as spies?”

“I am an innocent peddler,” returned Harvey meekly, “and am going below, to lay in a fresh stock of goods.”

“And how do you expect to get below, my innocent peddler? Do you think we hold the forts at King’s Bridge to cover such peddling rascals as you, in your goings in and comings out?”

“I believe I hold a pass that will carry me through,” said the peddler, handing him a paper, with an air of indifference.

The officer, for such he was, read it, and cast a look of surprise and curiosity at Harvey, when he had done.

Then turning to one or two of his men, who had officiously stopped the way, he cried,—

“Why do you detain the man? Give way, and let him pass in peace. But whom have we here? Your name is not mentioned in the pass!”

“No, sir,” said the Skinner, lifting his hat with humility. “I have been a poor, deluded man, who has been serving in the rebel army; but, thank God, I’ve lived to see the error of my ways, and am now come to make reparation, by enlisting under the Lord’s anointed.”

“Umph! a deserter—a Skinner, I’ll swear, wanting to turn Cowboy! In the last brush I had with the scoundrels, I could hardly tell my own men from the enemy. We are not over well supplied with coats, and as for countenances, the rascals change sides so often, that you may as well count their faces for nothing; but trudge on, we will contrive to make use of you, sooner or later.”

Ungracious as was this reception, if you could judge of the Skinner’s feelings from his manner, it nevertheless delighted him. He moved with alacrity towards the city, and really was so happy to escape the brutal looks and frightful manner of his interrogator, as to lose sight of all other considerations. But the man who performed the functions of orderly in the irregular troop, rode up to the side of his commander, and commenced a close and apparently a confidential discourse with his principal. They spoke in whispers, and cast frequent and searching glances at the Skinner, until the fellow began to think himself an object of more than common attention. His satisfaction at this distinction was somewhat heightened, at observing a smile on the face of the captain, which, although it might be thought grim, certainly denoted satisfaction. This pantomime occupied the time they were passing a hollow, and concluded as they rose another hill. Here the captain and his sergeant both dismounted, and ordered the party to halt. The two partisans each took a pistol from his holster, a movement that excited no suspicion or alarm, as it was a precaution always observed, and beckoned to the peddler and the Skinner to follow. A short walk brought them to a spot