1812: The Rivers of War Read Online Free PDF Page B

forward if … anything untoward happens to Major Montgomery.”
    Jackson’s grip was firm. Sam hoped the same was true of his own. “I will, sir. You can count on it.”
    He even managed not to wince when another cannon went off. Fortunately, it was only the three-pounder.
    Slowly, The Ridge moved a branch, just enough to afford him a good view of the opposite bank of the Tallapoosa. Behind him and spread out on both sides, hidden in the forest, hundreds of Cherokee warriors crouched. General Coffee and his cavalry were somewhere farther back, having agreed to follow The Ridge’s advice and stay well out of sight of whatever Red Sticks might be watching the river.
    In theory, Jackson’s Cherokee allies were led by their chief, Gideon Morgan, to whom the Americans had given the rank of colonel. But that was mainly due to Morgan’s fluency with the English language. In practice, as the campaign against the Red Sticks had unfolded, it was The Ridge who’d come to be the central war leader, and the one whom General Coffee relied upon. The Ridge had started the campaign with the lowly American rank of lieutenant, but now he was a major.
    Observing nothing on the other side except a line of beached Creek canoes, The Ridge examined the river itself for a moment. The muddy waters of the Tallapoosa were moving fairly quickly, but he didn’t think it would be impossible to swim across. Not even difficult, really, since the distance wasn’t that great.
    He went back to studying the opposite bank, with the patience of a hunter.
    Nothing. There might well be some warriors in the vicinity, but it was becoming obvious the Red Sticks hadn’t thought to place a guard on the river.
    He wasn’t surprised. He could hear the sounds of fighting off in the distance, and had been hearing them for quite some time. By now, the Red Stick warriors would be concentrated at or near the fortifications that stretched across the neck of the peninsula, hundreds of yards away from the river’s curve. The terrain directly opposite The Ridge’s location was flat, once the riverbank itself was surmounted, and it wasn’t as heavily forested as most of the region.
    Somewhere in the distance he thought he could see the high ground that was reported to form the center of the peninsula, and he was pretty sure the Creek village itself would be locatedat the foot of it. That area would be guarded, but the river itself wasn’t being watched. Not closely, at least.
    Moving slowly again, The Ridge let the branch slide back into position, no more abruptly than if it had been moved by the wind. Then, he turned his head and considered the Cherokees who were clustered nearby.
    He dismissed John Ross without even a thought. The youngster seemed stalwart enough, but had no real experience in this sort of fighting. The Americans had made him an adjutant, and had given him the rank of a second lieutenant. But, again, that had been mostly due to his familiarity with English. For something like this, The Ridge wanted a more experienced man. Besides, it would take a good swimmer, and The Ridge had no idea how well Ross could handle himself in the water.
    His eyes fell on The Whale. The man’s name wasn’t simply due to his size. The Ridge made a subtle summoning gesture with his head, and The Whale eased his way forward.
    “Right across the river,” The Ridge murmured. He slid aside a little so The Whale could take his own peek.
    After carefully parting the branches and examining the canoes on the other side, The Whale grunted softly. “I’ll take two men with me. Won’t take long, so have everyone ready.”
    He turned away and softly called out two names. As the men rose from their crouch, The Whale led them a short distance upstream. They’d start their crossing far enough above the beached canoes that the current wouldn’t sweep them right on past.
    Then The Ridge glanced at John Ross again. If the youngster harbored any resentment because he hadn’t been