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coop on the Saratoga from which a game…cock flew； and； perching
on a gun； flapped his wings and crowed； so all the seamen cheered
at such a happy omen。
Then followed the fighting； with its bravery and its horrors
its brutish wickedness broke loose。
Early in the action； the British sloop； Finch； fell into
MacDonough's trap and grounded on the reef。
The British commander was killed； with many of his officers。
Still； the heavy fire of the guns would have given them the
victory； but for MacDonough's foresight in providing for swinging
his ships。 When one broadside was entirely out of action； he used
his cables； kedges and springs； and brought the other batteries
to bear。
It was one of the most desperate naval fights the world has ever
seen。 Of the three hundred men on the British flag… ship not more
than five； we are told； escaped uninjured； and at the close there
was not left on any one of the eight vessels a mast that could
carry sail； or a sail that could render service。 In less than two
hours and a half the fight was won； and the British fleet
destroyed。
To the God of Battles each had committed his cause： and the God
of Battles had spoken。
Far away to the southward in the boats were the Vermont troops
with their general and Rolf in the foremost。 Every sign of the
fight they had watched as men whose country's fate is being tried。
It was a quarter after eleven when the thunder died away； and the
Vermonters were headed on shore； for a hasty landing； if need be；
when down from the peak of the British flag…ship went the Union
Jack； and the Stars and Stripes was hauled to take its place。
〃Thank God！〃 a soft； murmuring sigh ran through all the boats and
many a bronzed and bearded cheek was wet with tears。 Each man
clasped hands with his neighbour； all were deeply moved； and even
as an audience melted renders no applause； so none felt any wish
to vent his deep emotion in a cheer。
Chapter 82。 Scouting for Macomb
General Macomb knew that Sir George Prevost was a cautious and
experienced commander。 The loss of his fleet would certainly make
a radical change in his plans； but what change？ Would he make a
flank move and dash on to Albany； or retreat to Canada； or
entrench himself to await reinforcements at Plattsburg； or try to
retrieve his laurels by an overwhelming assault on the town？
Whatever his plan； he would set about it quickly； and Macomb
studied the enemy's camp with a keen； discerning eye； but nothing
suggesting a change was visible when the sun sank in the rainy west。
It was vital that he know it at once when an important move was
begun； and as soon as the night came down； a score of the
swiftest scouts were called for。 All were young men； most of them
had been in McGlassin's band。 Rolf was conspicuous among them for
his tall figure； but there was a Vermont boy named Seymour； who
had the reputation of being the swiftest runner of them all。
They had two duties laid before them： first； to find whether
Prevost's army was really retreating； second； what of the
regiment he sent up the Saranac to perform the flank movement。
Each was given the country he knew best。 Some went westerly； some
followed up the river。 Rolf； Seymour； and Fiske； another
Vermonter； skimmed out of Plattsburg harbour in the dusk； rounded
Cumberland Bend； and at nine o'clock landed at Point au Roche； at
the north side of Treadwell's Bay。
Here they hid the canoe and agreeing to meet again at midnight；
set off in three different westerly directions to strike the
highway at different points。 Seymour； as the fast racer； was
given the northmost route； Rolf took the middle。 Their signals
were arranged in the woods the barred…owl cry； by the water
the loon； and they parted。
The woods seemed very solemn to Rolf that historic September
night； as he strode along at speed； stopping now and again when
he thought he heard some signal； and opened wide his mouth to
relieve his ear…drums of the heart…beat or to still the rushing
of his breath。
In half an hour he reached the high…road。 It was deserted。 Then
he heard a cry of the barred owl：
Wa wah wa wah Wa … wah wa hooooo…aw。
He replied with the last line； and the answer came a repeat of
the whole chant； showing that it might be owl； it might be man；
but it was not the right man； for the final response should have
been the hooooo…aw。 Rolf never knew whence it came； but gave no
further heed。
For a long time he sat in a dark corner； where he could watch the
road。 There were sounds of stir in the direction of Plattsburg。
Then later； and much nearer； a couple of shots were fired。 He
learned afterward that those shots were meant for one of his
friends。 At length there was a faint tump ta tump ta。 He drew his
knife； stuck it deep in the ground； then held the handle in his
teeth。 This acted like a magnifier； for now he heard it plainly
enough the sound of a horse at full gallop but so far away
that it was five minutes before he could clearly hear it while
standing。 As the sound neared； he heard the clank of arms； and
when it passed； Rolf knew that this was a mounted British
officer。 But why； and whither？
In order to learn the rider's route； Rolf followed at a trot for
a mile。 This brought him to a hilltop； whither in the silent
night； that fateful north wind carried still the sound
te rump te rump te rump。
As it was nearly lost； Rolf used his knife again； that brought
the rider back within a mile it seemed； and again the hoof beat
faded； te rump te rump。
〃Bound for Canada all right；〃 Rolf chuckled to himself。 But there
was nothing to show whether this was a mere despatch rider； or an
advance scout； or a call for reinforcements。
So again he had a long wait。 About half…past ten a new and larger
sound came from the south。 The knife in the ground increased but
did not explain it。 The night was moonless； dark now； and it was
safe to sit very near the road。 In twenty minutes the sound was
near at hand in five； a dark mass was passing along the road。
There is no mistaking the language of drivers。 There is never any
question about such and such a voice being that of an English
officer。 There can be no doubt about the clank of heavy wheels
a rich； tangy voice from some one in advance said： 〃Oui。 Parbleu；
tows ce que je sais； c'est par la。〃 A body of about one hundred
Britishers； two or three wagons； guns； and a Frenchman for guide。
Rolf thought he knew that voice； yes； he was almost sure it was
the voice of Francios la Colle。
This was important but far from conclusive。 It was now eleven。 He
was due at the canoe by midnight。 He made for the place as fast
as he could go； which； on such a night； was slow； but guided by
occasional glimpses of the stars he reached the lake； and pausing
a furlong from the landing； he gave the rolling； quivering loon call：
Ho…o…o…o…ooo…o Ho…o…o…o…ooo…o。 Hooo…ooo。
After ten seconds the answer came：
Ho…o…o…o…o…o…o…o Hoo…ooo。
And again after ten seconds Rolf's reply：
Hoo…ooo。
Both his friends were there； Fiske with a bullet…hole through his
arm。 It seemed their duty to go back at once to headquarters with
the meagre information and their wounded comrade。 But Fiske made
light of his trouble it was a mere scratch and reminded
them that their orders were to make sure of the enemy's
movements。 Therefore； it was arranged that Seymour take back
Fiske and what news they had； while Rolf went on to complete his scouting。
By one o'clock he was again on the hill where he had marked the
horseman's outward flight and the escorted guns。 Now； as he
waited； there were sounds in the north that faded； and in the
south were similar sounds that grew。 Within an hour he was
viewing a still larger body of troops with drivers and wheels
that clanked。 There were only two explanations possible： Either
the British were concentrating on Chazy Landing； where； protected
from MacDonough by the north wind； they could bring enough stores
and forces from the north to march overland independent of the
ships； or else they were in full retreat for Canada。 There was
but one point where this could be made sure； namely； at the forks
of the road in Chazy village。 So he set out at a jog trot for
Chazy； six miles away。
The troops ahead were going three miles an hour。 Rolf could go five。
In twenty minutes he overtook them and now was embarrassed
by their slowness。 What should he do？ It was nearly impossible to
make speed through the woods in the darkness； so as to pass them。
He was forced to content himself by marching a few yards in their rear。
Once or twice when a group fell back； he was uncomfortably close
and heard scraps of their talk。
These left little doubt that the army was in retreat。 Still this
was the mere chatter of the ranks。 He curbed his impatience an