Guns for General Washington Read Online Free PDF Page B

ones who’d gone overboard could get warm and dry their clothes. Meanwhile carpenters patched the damaged bow with tar and lumber brought from the fort. The barge was pushed back into the water for a test Will breathed a long sigh of relief when it proved seaworthy.
    By now everyone was exhausted, so Colonel Knox decided to stay put until morning. Canvas bags of biscuits and dried salt meat were brought ashore. Huddled around the campfires, the men settled down to a cold, uncomfortable night.
    Suddenly a group of strange painted faces loomed from the surrounding bushes.
    â€œInjuns!” somebody shouted.
    The men jumped up and scrambled for knives and muskets, ready for a fight. But it proved a false alarm. A band of Algonquins living nearby were curious about all the activity. They had come to investigate, bringing a gift with them—a big haunch of roast venison. It made a fine and unexpected meal for the tired travelers.
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    At dawn they broke camp and the convoy set off again. Henry was worried about arrangements at the southern end of the lake. “Schuyler’s supposed to have cans and oxen for us, but I don’t want to take chances or lose any more time,” he said to his brother. “I’ll move ahead and meet you at Fort George.”
    In his fast boat Henry reached the fort without trouble. He found preparations under way. But William and the convoy were not so lucky. Wind currents on mountain lakes could be tricky and unpredictable. For a while the wind had been their friend, but it began to fade. Then it picked up again—blowing hard in the opposite direction. Now they faced a problem: The bateaux were too clumsy and heavy to work against a head wind in the narrow channel.
    Will stood up and faced the barges behind him. “Take in your sails and break out the sweeps!” he bellowed. “We’ll have to row!”
    Holes had been cut on the sides of each boat in case oars, or “sweeps,” were needed. On each vessel, the crews put the oars in place, then began to pull.
    It was hard, back-breaking work, but William set the pace and the men rowed steadily. Together they fought the sly wind that threatened to blow them all the way back to Ticonderoga. It had been slow going before, but now their progress was even slower.
    Meanwhile Colonel Knox, waiting at Fort George, was in a fever of uncertainty. A whole day passed while he walked the windswept shore, anxious to know what was happening. Finally he sent a rider on a fast horse up the side of the lake to investigate.
    After several hours the rider returned. His horse was winded and his clothes spattered with icy mud. He reported that there had been another accident A second barge had sprung a leak and started to go down, but the men were able to shift the cargo before the barge sank. “The boats are moving again,” the rider said, “and they’ve only ten more miles to go.” Henry was thankful for the news but knew he wouldn’t relax until every man and gun was ashore.
    Then, on the morning of the fifteenth, six days after they’d started, a thick fog drifted across the southern end of Lake George. The fog added to Henry’s worries; he could do nothing but wait. He peered and paced and tried to stay calm. Where were the boats? Was Will safe? Had there been another accident? What if the guns wound up at the bottom of the lake? He stared into the fog, his fears growing. Maybe the council officers were right, after all. Maybe he really was doomed to fail.
    The colonel groaned to himself. Had he made a blunder? Was the whole plan unrealistic—just a vain and foolish dream?
    The fog blanketed the shore. Filled with guilt and worry, Colonel Knox continued to pace back and forth, back and forth. The hours ticked by. Still no sign of the convoy. Henry felt miserable. His daring plan was falling apart. He’d have to go back to Cambridge in disgrace. . . .
    Suddenly he froze. Was