

* * * *

Kings Pinnacle

A March Hare Novel: Book 1

By Robert Gourley

Copyright 2013 by Robert Gourley

Smashwords Edition

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Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

Kings Pinnacle is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Certain real life characters and real life events are described in the book, but they are also used fictitiously. Any other resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Cover photograph by Robyn Michelle Photography.

www.robynphotography.com/

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Kings Pinnacle Part 1

Kings Pinnacle Part 2

Kings Pinnacle Part 3

Kings Pinnacle Part 4

Kings Pinnacle Part 5

Kings Pinnacle Part 6

Epilogue

Author's End Note

About The Author

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Acknowledgements

I would like to thank editors Nancy Gourley and Deloris Glenn, and I would like to dedicate this book to my wife Nancy.

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Kings Pinnacle Part 1

Alex

"In times of eld, it was believed that the human spirit shared a bond with all things divine. This sacred hand-fasting ceremony between this lassie, Elizabeth Murray and yon lad, Alexander Mackenzie is a tradition that dates back o'er the ages to symbolize that they will nae longer be twa, but will be ane, ye ken," said the old Scottish Presbyterian minister with a wink at the bride.

Alex smiled at the wink even though he had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he glanced over at his bride-to-be standing beside him. Pushing down the worry and chalking it up to butterflies, he returned his gaze to the minister who had just begun the hand-fasting ceremony.

The old minister was reciting the ceremony from memory, while he leaned heavily on his dusty, decrepit lectern. As the rite dictated, the reverend stopped and picked up a ceremonial rope, which he wrapped around the joined hands of the young couple standing in front of him. Just as he began tying a knot in the rope to signify the bond, the front door of the toll house crashed against the front wall. A highly polished black boot had kicked it all the way open, interrupting the ceremony.

A few people who lived nearby and some other folks that had happened to be in the vicinity had been rounded up to witness the ceremony. This small group of people was standing just behind the couple, partially blocking the reverend's view of the door. The old minister paused in tying the knot, stepped out from behind his lectern to stand beside it, and rose up on his tip-toes, trying to look over the tops of the heads of the congregation. The happy couple and all the witnesses also turned toward the door to see what all the commotion was about.

The year was 1770, and the ceremony was being conducted in the toll house on the Scottish side of the Coldstream Bridge, which spanned the River Tweed between the Village of Coldstream, Scotland and the English village of Cornhill-on-Tweed. Coldstream was one of those small, sleepy communities on the southeastern border of Scotland that was convenient for elopers from England who wanted to marry under Scottish laws and without publicity. The reverend was also the toll collector for people and freight passing over the bridge, but most of his income came from performing marriage ceremonies and hand-fastings rather than from collecting tolls.

The locals who lived on both sides of the boundary between England and Scotland still referred to it as "The Border" even though that term had been forbidden by King James I in the early 1600s. The toll house at the Coldstream end of the bridge was famous throughout England and Scotland for hosting weddings and hand-fastings for couples that came across from England, because the Lord Hardwicke's Marriage Act did not have jurisdiction in Scotland. In Scotland, it was legal for males to marry at age fourteen and females at age twelve. Gretna Green, in the southwest of Scotland, was a much more popular marriage destination just over the border, because it was the first village in Scotland on the main carriage route from London to Edinburgh.

The border between Scotland and England had been created by the Treaty of Union in 1707, which united England and Scotland to form the Kingdom of Great Britain. The official border ran along the River Tweed in the east to the Solway Firth in the west. This border formed a boundary of two distinct legal jurisdictions, since the Treaty of Union guaranteed the continued separation of English law and Scottish law.

"What in the name of all that's holy is going on here?" asked the reverend in a raised voice.

"Now that's exactly what I want to know," replied the intruder who had just kicked open the toll house front door.

"And just who are you, sir and what do you want?" asked the minister.

"Patrick!" shouted Elizabeth Murray, interrupting the reverend, as she recognized her cousin Patrick, who was leading the band of young men that had just entered the toll house.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Elizabeth.

The group of young men had walked through the toll house door and continued to the far end of the room where the ceremony was taking place. Elizabeth's cousin Patrick was leading the way.

"Ye can't marry him, Betsy," said Patrick, pointing a finger at the bridegroom, Alexander Mackenzie.

"And just why can't I?" replied Elizabeth with a pout.

"For one thing, you're too young."

"I'm sixteen and so is Alex."

"Yes, you are, but the age of legal capacity is twenty-one, Cousin," said Patrick with a smirk.

"It is in England, but we happen to be standing in Scotland, where the age of legal capacity is fourteen, Cousin," Elizabeth replied sarcastically.

"That may be true, but you still can't marry without your father's consent until you are twenty-one, Cousin," Patrick replied with equal sarcasm.

"I can if I am in Scotland."

In 1753, the English Parliament had passed the Lord Hardwicke's Marriage Act, which codified that if either party to a marriage was not at least twenty-one years old, then both sets of parents had to consent to the marriage.

"We'll see about that, lassie. Besides you're English and he's a Scot. There are laws against international marriages, and you're not going to marry a Reiver anyway," said Patrick with an evil smile.

Patrick was correct; there were laws against international marriages, but these laws were widely ignored by the church and the authorities. The bridegroom, Alex Mackenzie, was in fact one of the last Reivers in existence. By the middle of the 1600s, the authorities had largely wiped out the border outlaws, called Reivers. But even in the late 1700s, the border was still thinly populated, and there were often conflicts that sprang up. The lives of the people who lived along the border were frequently disrupted by these clashes and altercations. The border was often a lawless place where tensions ran high and feuds erupted between rival clans over the slightest incident or insult. At one time, it had been generally sanctioned by the authorities for the so-called Reivers to conduct raids on both sides of the border, as long as the people who were being raided did not have powerful allies or kin among the raiders, but that was no longer the case. All of the Reivers had been hunted down long ago, or so everyone thought.

"Who says I'm a weaver?" interjected Alexander Mackenzie, smiling his disarming smile and stepping up beside Elizabeth.

Alex had quietly untied and removed the ceremonial rope from his and Elizabeth's hands in case he needed to move quickly.

"I don't even own a loom," he said with a grin.

"I said you're a Reiver, laddie," said Patrick, "I didn't say you were a weaver, and furthermore, I'm here to arrest you. You're not going to marry Elizabeth, of that ye can be sure."

"Everyone knows that there haven't been any Reivers in Scotland or in England for over a hundred years."

"Well, I guess I will just have to call you an outlaw instead of a Reiver then."

Alex had noticed that the young man named Patrick was dressed the latest British fashions made popular in London; he was obviously a wealthy young dandy. The men standing behind Patrick had spread out in a line all the way across the little toll house, ready to cut off any attempt to bolt past them toward the main door.

Alex knew he was in trouble; he was unarmed except for a knife in his boot, and his brothers were nowhere in sight. They didn't even know where he was or that he was formally hand-fasting Elizabeth Murray. When cornered, Alex's usual initial instinct was always to fight, but his intellect often overrode his instinct and determined that he should flee. In this case the odds were ten to one against him. Fighting didn't seem to be much of an option.

"Do you want to come peacefully, or do you want to do it the hard way, laddie?" asked Patrick.

"There's no need for violence, sir; you've got my hand on it," said the smiling Alex as he stuck out his hand as if to shake hands with Patrick and give him assurance that he would not try to escape. At the same time, he raked his long blond hair back out of his eyes with his left hand.

At first, Patrick was puzzled by the offer to shake hands. But after he considered it for a few moments, he finally decided to accept the offer. When he reached out to clasp hands, Alex reached past Patrick's hand, grabbing his wrist instead. He then took a small side-step and pulled Patrick's arm as hard as he could, spinning him around in a half circle right into the old reverend, who was still standing beside his lectern. The minister was completely caught off guard by the unexpected collision, as was Patrick. So the reverend instinctively wrapped both of his arms around Patrick just as the young man barreled into him. Their feet tangled together as they stumbled backward. Both men lost their footing and went down to the floor in a tangled heap. Patrick quickly tried to get from on top of the old reverend and regain his feet.

As soon as the collision occurred, Alex turned and ran like a hare, past the old reverend's lectern, toward the back of the toll house and away from the men blocking the front door. He knew that there was another door on the side of the toll house that led out into a small garden tended by the reverend and his wife.

He threw open the side door and dashed outside. Shouting, "Sorry, Reverend," over his shoulder, he raced past the small vegetable garden and around the toll house to the rail where his horse Hack was tied. Alex had already untied Hack at the hitching post and was running alongside him away from the toll house by the time Elizabeth, Patrick, and the other young men spilled out the toll house front door into the road.

Hack was a spotted bay pony, and he was born to run. Hack instantly knew that something was up when he saw Alex dash up and untie him. Alex had grabbed the reins on the fly and continued sprinting alongside Hack for a short distance. Then he grasped the saddle horn and leaped into the saddle of the running horse in a single bound, yelling, "Yeah, Hack!"

Border horses were unmatched in speed and stamina, and Alex had owned Hack since he was a colt. In addition to his speed, Hack could also pick his way across boggy moss lands where Alex couldn't see the trail. Hack and Alex were like brothers, rather than horse and master. Alex had always had a way with horses. No one really understood why; they just accepted it as a fact.

"Never trust the hand of a Reiver," Alex shouted over his shoulder as he flew out of sight around the bend in the road before Patrick and his companions could even mount their horses. Patrick knew he couldn't catch Alex, so he stopped in his tracks and threw his reins to the ground with a dejected look.

It was almost spring weather, near the end of March, and it had been unseasonably warm for northern England or southern Scotland. The leaves were just beginning to bud on some the trees that grew along the road. The grass was just showing a hint of green in a few places as the dust that was thrown up from Hack's hooves settled back down on the road.

The border area was also very thin on law enforcement with the king located so far away in London. It was ripe for plunder and robbery. Most of the land was not really arable but it could be used for grazing. Outlaws often rustled cattle and sometimes kidnapped people for ransom. The Reivers had been all but stamped out long ago, but one small band still existed on the border--the one that Alex belonged to.

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Patrick

"You've done me a great service, Pattie, and I'll not forget it," said retired British Army General Sir James Murray, as he took another puff on his long-stemmed pipe.

The general and Patrick were standing in the library of the Murray's manor house on his estate near Rothbury, north of Newcastle. They were both looking out the window in front of the fireplace at the horses being worked out on the race track beside the house. Patrick had been in the house many times since he was a youngster. Sir James Murray was his mother's younger brother and a family favorite. He threw lavish parties at his manor house and was a well-respected lord in northeast England. However, those who knew him well also knew that he was ruthless and greedy. He prided himself on his thoroughbred horses but couldn't quite achieve the success at horse breeding and racing that he thought he deserved.

"Uncle Jamie, if you don't mind my saying so, you are going to have to do something about my cousin Betsy, and do it fairly quickly I'm afraid," Patrick said in an exasperated tone.

"You're right Pattie, I know it. I should have married my daughter off at least a year ago, but she can be very strong-willed. She told me that this border ceremony was just a hand-fasting and not a full blown wedding, but I intend to do something about her as soon as I can arrange it. Sir George Hastings has a country estate over near Alnwick, and he lost his wife recently in child bearing. I am of a mind to marry Elizabeth to him," replied Sir James.

"How did the Mackenzie runt get involved with Elizabeth anyway?"

"It was actually partially my own fault. I hired the lad as a hostler and horse trainer last year. He and that horse of his, which is nothing more than a cur, can outrun the fastest of my thoroughbreds, and I thought he could help me improve the performance of my stock. The lad appears to have a way with horses, you know," replied Sir James.

"But recently, for some reason, Mackenzie was gone more than he was here," Sir James continued. "My head groomsman caught him and Elizabeth in a compromising situation behind the stables and the lad lit out like his shirt was on fire. I thought that was the end of it, but I was wrong."

"You know what they say, 'An outlaw by the grace of blood', and I intend to see if he bleeds," said Patrick. "A commoner, like the Mackenzie runt, has no place in English society, and I intend to make an example of him, so that everyone who knows him will learn what happens to commoners who try to marry into the nobility."

Patrick firmly believed in the divine right of kings and nobles whose duty it was to rule the lesser peoples of the earth. He thought that you were either born to rule or else you were common folk. It was unthinkable for a common person to try to improve his station in life. Patrick had been born in Edinburgh. He was Lord Pitfour's second son and was raised among a number of major figures in the Scottish Enlightenment, including the philosopher and historian David Hume and the dramatist John Home. He had a large number of cousins through his English mother's family including Sir William Pulteney, 5th Baronet Commodore George Johnstone, and, of course, retired General Sir James Murray.

Since Patrick was his second son, Lord Pitfour and his wife encouraged Patrick toward a career in the military at an early age. He was educated at the London Military Academy and served briefly in Germany with the Royal North British Dragoons (Scots Greys) as a captain during the Seven Years' War. He left the Greys, under what some considered mysterious circumstances, to return to England.

Even though his fate had allotted him the role of the second son, Patrick felt that he was meant to be a solider and was satisfied with his lot in life. He had a military mind, but he was not well adapted to leading men. He had no empathy at all for the men that served under him, and he gave them very little thought and consideration. His military interest lay in firearms, swords, artillery, fortifications and other such military subjects.

As he gazed into the fire in the fireplace, Patrick kept thinking about that phrase written by his Scots Greys commanding officer on his performance report that was filed with the Greys' adjutant.

"...possesses a fine military bearing and mien, although he is not well-favored by the men under his command."

Patrick didn't care if the men under his command favored him or not. He was a Lord's son, and he expected the men under his command to follow his orders, and follow them to the letter, without question. He had expressed that sentiment to his Greys' commanding officer, who was also a Lord's son, just prior to his discharge. The fact that he had brought up several of his men in front of a court martial for failure to follow orders never entered into his thinking about why he might have been discharged from the Greys. He was actually still quite puzzled about his discharge. He suspected that it was most likely a personality conflict with his commanding officer.

"Thank you, Pattie. As a reward for your service to me and for a small favor I shall ask of you, I intend to purchase you a commission to command a company in Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Johnstone's Highland Light Infantry, the Seventieth Foot," said Sir James.

"Uncle Jamie, I can't thank you enough. You really are much too generous," said Patrick, even though it was exactly what he had been angling for. In fact, he had done everything in his power to deliver that suggestion indirectly to his uncle.

Patrick had seen this rescue as a way to curry favor with his uncle and as possible stepping-stone to further his military career and ambitions.

"What is the favor you ask of me, Uncle Jamie?"

"I want to see the Mackenzie lad hanged," said Sir James, steely eyed as he watched his horses train on the track beside the house and blew smoke toward the window.

"It would be my pleasure," replied Patrick. Since he had already planned on killing Alexander Mackenzie anyway, it would be no problem to see that done.

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Alex

"Alex, lad, yer gang to hae to lie low for a spell, or maybe even leave Scotland for a while and lat be the lass," said John Mackenzie, Alex's father, as he and Alex huddled together at the edge of a stream in a secluded area off the main road.

Alex had been talking to his father about the incident at Coldstream as he watered Hack at one of the outlaws' meeting places. The band of Reivers to which the Mackenzies belonged had a number of secret meeting places that were hidden in the Scottish lowlands, away for the prying eyes of the authorities. There were a few other raiders milling about in a small group and some of them had ridden right out into the stream to water their horses.

"He's is a baud one, and he'll nae forget the fasherie," continued John, referring to the confrontation with Patrick and Alex's escape.

"Weel now, if it isn't Lord March Hare mingling amongst the plain and common folk," said a young Scot who walked up to John and Alex.

The interruption had come from one of Alex's older brothers, Hugh, who had arrived unnoticed while Alex and his father were engaged in the conversation. The raiders were typically badly behaved in camp, and respect was seldom given and hard to earn. Hugh liked to inject a lot of "Weels" into his conversation with anyone, and especially with his comrades, as if he were an elderly Scot, even though he was only eighteen years old, two years older than Alex. Hugh was one of the fiercest raiders, or riders, as they called themselves, and commanded high respect among all the members of the outlaw band. Physically, Hugh was a giant who stood about three inches less than seven feet tall and was stronger than any man in the band or any man in the lowlands as far as he knew. He and Alex had been close as young lads and were still very close.

"What in the devil is a March Hare and what are you talking about?" asked Alex with a perplexed expression.

"It's in every newspaper and written on posted bills nailed to every tree in the shire."

Alex still had a puzzled look as Hugh went on, "Every soldier, reef, and constable in the territory is looking for ye Alex, lad."

"What in blazes for? What did I do?"

"Ye have a knack for finding trouble, don't ye ken, lad? You're an outlaw, Alexander Mackenzie; a wanted man, or boy in yer case. The posted bills say ye are a horse thief and ye took a horse from Sir James Murray where ye worked. He has sworn out a warrant for yer arrest after ye lit out from his manor. The posted bills also say that yer a skinny wee runt who rides through the Marches as fast as a bonny hare," added Hugh with a grin.

The arrest warrants didn't really say anything about a hare; Hugh was making it up as he went along. And even the term "Marches" that Hugh was using to describe the area in the lowlands where they lived had been largely discouraged and replaced with "Shire". The Marches and March Wardens had been abolished by King James I of Scotland and England in the 1600s, but Hugh liked to use the old terms for things. He was a kind of throwback who should have been born a hundred years earlier.

Hugh was just giving his younger brother a hard time, as he usually did. Also it was high time that Hugh pinned a nickname on Alex, and the "March Hare" was fairly suited to him. They all knew that Alex wasn't a horse thief, but there was little they could do about it. The law was firmly on the side of the nobility, and the common folk had little recourse, and even less justice, in the lowlands, unless they took it into their own hands.

The nickname that Hugh had given Alex was a bit too appropriate and it had a double meaning. The saying "as wild as a March Hare" was centuries old. It had originated in Europe and described the behavior of male hares during their courtship rituals that usually occurred during mating season in the month of March each year. Male hares darted around, leaped into the air and generally cavorted around in order to attract the attention of female hares. The females attempted to fight them off before actually mating with them. Hares are normally shy and reclusive animals, so this unusual behavior led people to believe that hares went mad or wild in the month of March; hence the saying became "mad (or wild) as a March hare". The other meaning, of course, was that hares in the March or Shire of Scotland were considered to be very fast and very wily creatures that were hard to catch.

Alex was all of that; he was madly in love with Elizabeth Murray, and he was very wily and very fast on foot and on horseback. So, as it turned out, the nickname stuck, and it wasn't long before everyone was calling him the March Hare.

Alex was pretty skinny, he had to admit, and he did ride like the wind. He was also very fleet of foot; he had outrun everyone he had ever raced, whether the distance was long or short. He weighed about ten stone and stood slightly less than six feet tall. Alex had green eyes and blond hair with a reddish cast. He wore it combed straight back from his forehead and over his ears, but it mostly fell forward into his eyes when he wasn't riding. He was constantly brushing his hair back out of his eyes with his left hand.

He carried a seventy-five caliber musket that looked a lot like the Brown Bess carried by the British Army. Alex had named his musket "Slayer". The Brown Bess musket had first been issued as the standard rifle of the British Army about ten years earlier. Alex told everyone that he had purchased his musket, but he had really acquired it while he was riding with his outlaw band.

Muskets were normally a smooth bore rifle, but Alex had jammed a musket ball in his original barrel and couldn't knock it loose. So he finally took his musket to a Scottish gunsmith who had examined the jam and told him that it was impossible to clear, and that the barrel would have to be replaced. Alex still remembered the conversation with the gunsmith about the new barrel.

"Can you build me a new barrel?" asked Alex.

"Aye, I could lad, if I had a strip of gun steel long enough to make you a proper barrel for a rifle like this one," replied the gunsmith.

"What have you got right now?"

"The only steel strips I have in stock right now are too short. Would ye be willing to make do with a shorter barrel?"

Alex knew that a shorter barrel meant reduced range, as well as reduced accuracy.

"Nae," replied Alex. "How long would I have to wait for the longer strips of steel?"

"It could be several weeks. Good gun barrel steel is in very short supply right now."

"Are there any other alternatives?"

"Not that I ken," replied the gunsmith.

"Could you nae weld two short strips together to make one strip long enough for a proper barrel?"

"I could lad, but the weld would run perpendicular to the length of the barrel creating a weak spot that might not stand up to the muzzle blast when the rifle was fired."

"But don't you have to weld the barrel anyway?"

"I do lad, but the normal weld runs lengthwise along the barrel, which spreads out the weak spot all along the entire length of the barrel."

"What if you took the two strips of steel and welded them together to make one extra-long strip of barrel steel and then forge them in a spiral around the barrel mandrel, just like the red stripes of a barber pole wrap around the tube? That way the weld of the two strips of steel would run nearly lengthwise along the length of the barrel."

"I have never been asked to forge a barrel in that manner, but I suppose that it could be done," replied the gunsmith.

Alex had insisted, offering to pay additional for it, and the gunsmith had finally agreed to make it. One unexpected benefit of making a musket barrel in this fashion, which Alex and the gunsmith had not known would happen, was that the weld line inside the barrel formed a spiral groove rather than a straight groove. This spiral groove caused the musket ball to spin as it traveled down the length of the barrel when it was fired. The musket ball continued to spin after it left the barrel on its way to the target.

Most smooth bore muskets were accurate up to a range of about a hundred yards but Alex's musket was accurate to a range of almost three hundred yards. This was true because of the increased stability of the spinning musket ball that it fired through the longer than normal barrel. Alex had also worked with the gunsmith to add a rear slot sight and a front bead to his rifle, providing him a better aiming mechanism than just sighting along the barrel.

Along with the musket, Alex carried a wicked dirk, and sometimes a sword. The transition from swords to firearms was already well underway and fewer and fewer of the riders were depending on swords these days. But Alex was as deadly with a knife, dirk, and sword as he was with his rifle.

Alex's father John was a shoemaker by trade and training. He still maintained a small cobbler's shop in the rear of their small house in Hathkirk, where he made shoes and boots for family and friends when he wasn't raiding. John had made his sons each a pair of boots with a special knife sheath built into the rear of the upper leather boot shaft where it couldn't be easily seen under long trousers. But shoemaking was no longer the family's primary source of income; they prospered by raiding the English side of the lowlands.

Alex's mother had been named Anne, but she had been killed during a conflict when Alex was a baby. This all happened before John became an outlaw and was the primary reason he turned to raiding. A large group of British raiders had swept into their small Scottish village during the night to loot and pillage. Anne objected to the looting and was shot, and John now limped slightly as a result of the confrontation with the outlaws. A small painting of Anne still hung in the front room of their house. When Alex was very young, he often sat and gazed at the picture on the wall and wondered what his mother had been like.

It took John several months to recover his health, both physically and emotionally, after the raid that killed his wife. He found that he didn't have much interest in shoemaking anymore and was consumed by the desire for revenge. In retaliation for the raid and its consequences, John had formed a small band of Scottish outlaws who operated along the border. He had avenged the death of his wife many times over during raids against the English across the border. John was a natural leader of what he called the last band of Reivers. He possessed a cunning mind that all his sons had inherited and he planned his raids meticulously. His band of outlaws was ruthless to the English that they raided.

John's hatred of the English had rubbed off on his sons. They admired John greatly and wanted to please him. They would gladly die for him if the opportunity presented itself.

"Och, that tears it; it's all gang agley" said Alex's father. "Ye are going to hae to set aff from Scotland for a wee bit, Alex, laddie."

"Where should I go?"

"Ireland," said John. "Ye can find wark at the Plantation of Ulster and get back on yer feet there. Ye might hae t' stay in Ireland quite a spell until this all blows oer."

"How am I going to get there?"

"Weel," Hugh chimed in, "the distance from Scotland to Ireland is less than fourteen miles at the closest point. We can probably swim o'er there, just like swimming across a loch," said Hugh with a grin and a gleam in his eye.

"We?" said Alex. "Who invited you along?"

"Ye don't think Robber and I would let ye go o'er the Sheuch alane, do ye, laddie?" replied Hugh.

* * * *

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Robber, do ye think this skinny wee March Hare can bear to be away from his bonny wee lassie for a few months?" asked Hugh of his older brother Robert, while looking at and grinning at Alex, trying to get a rise out of him.

Robert just nodded and kicked his horse into a little faster gait.

Where Hugh was a talker, Robert was an introvert who was usually silent and stoic. He didn't waste words, but he was wicked smart and both of his younger brothers respected him greatly. If there was a crisis, Robert was usually the one who came up with a plan or solved the problem. The dark haired Robert was the brains, the leader and the one they depended on, and Hugh was the muscle. Alex, well, they didn't really know what Alex was yet, other than their younger brother who now had a warrant out for his arrest in the lowlands of Scotland.

The three brothers were riding side-by-side west along the Wigtown Road from Dumfries to Stranraer in the southwest of Scotland on their way to Portpatrick where they intended to take an ocean ferry to Ireland. They had decided, after some conversation with their father, that it would be best for all three brothers to leave Scotland for a while. They had packed up what few belongings they could carry on their horses and ridden west from the lowlands across Scotland.

The ferry ran an ocean route from Portpatrick on the Scottish coast to Donaghadee in Ireland. This twenty-one mile crossing could take as little as two hours under sail with a fair wind, but often "The Sheuch" as the strait between Scotland and Ireland was called by the Scots, became a longer and more perilous passage. This narrow strait was well known for turbulent waters. It was exposed to the southwesterly gales of the Irish Sea as well as the fury of the North Atlantic Ocean.

It was a fine spring day, and the weather was dry and hot. The wind was blowing gently out of the southwest as the three brothers rode down the shaded trail.

"Robber, how much will it cost us to cross the Sheuch on the ocean ferry?" asked Hugh as they rode into the outskirts of Portpatrick.

"It doesn't really matter," answered Robert.

"Why is that?"

"Because we don't have any money," said Robert flatly.

Robert led them through the little village port of Portpatrick and almost all the way to the coast, where he turned south and rode toward the cattle pens.

When they reined their horses by the pens and stopped, Hugh said, "Robber, I think that the passenger ferry boat is north of here up by the docks," pointing back up the coast where the piers jutted out into the water.

Robert didn't reply but scanned the area around the cattle pens looking for someone who was in charge or someone who might know something. He spied a likely candidate in a short while, dismounted, and walked over to the elderly Scot.

Robert had hatched a plan to get them across to Ireland before they had entered Portpatrick. He had let his nose guide them to the cattle pens. He could actually smell the cattle odor before he had ridden into the small port village and had come up with the idea as soon as he smelled them.

There were two ways to cross the Sheuch. One way was to sail over riding in the hold of a packet vessel, which was the preferred way. The other more economical way was to sail aboard the cattle boats and ride with the cattle.

"Guid Sir, would ye be looking to hire drovers?" Robert asked.

"Nae, laddie, not here," replied the old Scot, "but drovers be needed o'er the Sheuch, do ye ken?"

"Aye, I do. We three lads are looking to cross over and hire out as drovers. Do ye have any interest in the other side, Sir?"

"Aye lad, I own the pens on this side and on the Irish side as well as a cattle station o'er there. If ye three will agree to sign on with me as drovers, I'll take you across for nil. The cattle boat is on its way back now and we'll be unloading and heading back out as soon as she arrives. If ye three lads will bide a bit, ye can help unload the cattle."

"Aye, we'll be happy take the jobs and here's my hand on it," said Robert reaching out his hand and shaking hands with the old Scot.

"My name is Robert Mackenzie and those are my two brothers, Hugh and Alex," he said pointing at Hugh and Alex who were still sitting on horseback.

"I'm Angus MacDonald," replied the old Scot. "Yer wages be sixpence a week each plus room and board. If ye lads will round up a few calves that have gotten out of the pens and wandered o'er by the burn there, I would be much obliged."

"Aye, Sir, we'd be happy to do it," replied Robert.

Robert nodded to Angus, remounted his horse, and led off toward the wayward calves near the small stream that ran into the ocean nearby.

"Robber, how'd ye get the idea that we know anything about cattle?" Hugh said with a grin.

"You've stolen enough of them to know something about them, haven't you?" replied Robert.

Hugh and Alex laughed as they rode out in search of the wayward cattle.

* * * *

Alex

"Weel, I ken we didn't have t' swim the Sheuch after all," said Hugh as he, Robert, and Alex sat on the gunwale of the cattle boat behind the cattle pens, sailing on the empty ferry leaving Portpatrick and heading out into the Sheuch.

As usual, Robert just nodded.

The three brothers had rounded up the strays and helped unload the Irish cattle from the ferry as soon as it had arrived. As soon as the cattle ferry was empty, they walked their horses up to the fenced funnel leading to the gangplank and up to the ferry's cattle pens. When they got up on the ferry, they led their horses into the cattle pens, where they tied them to the rails with the reins.

The cattle ferry was not carrying cattle back to Ireland. Northern Ireland was very sparsely populated in 1770. Its total population was much smaller than the population of Scotland and England. The importation of cattle from Ireland to Scotland was a staple of the Irish economy and an important food source for Scotland and England.

The cattle ferry was actually a packet vessel that had been modified specifically to carry cattle. Cattle pens had been built along both sides of the main deck, with high rails toward the sea and toward the interior of the craft to keep the cattle in a confined space. A narrow center aisle ran almost the entire length of the vessel and was used for the seamen, drovers and a few passengers. Ventilation was very important in moving cattle by sea. Toxic methane gasses produced by the cattle could build up in the stagnant air as a ship sailed along with the breeze. These concentrated gases could kill the cattle. Cattle boats were usually designed to be open-air so that cattle could get as much fresh air as possible during the trip.

As the empty cattle boat sailed out into the Sheuch, it started rolling heavily in the waves that were kicked up by the wind in the strait. The ferry didn't have a load of cattle to act as ballast, making it somewhat unstable in the water. The smell of cattle still lingered around the cattle pens for the trip back to Ireland. The three brothers were relaxing on the weather side of the boat behind the cattle pens and getting some fresh air from the wind at their backs as the boat moved out into the strait.

After two hours of sailing, they had reached a little past midway across the Sheuch when the wind began to strengthen out of the south. The seamen aboard the cattle boat began to shorten the sail as the boat heeled over under the increased wind pressure against the sails. Twenty minutes later, the weather had turned nasty with a storm coming up from the southwest on the horizon. Rain soon followed with wind gusts of over forty miles per hour, and streaks of lightning lit up the sky. The Irish Sea gale was in full strength a short time later.

The sea got rougher and rougher as the gale moved closer to the Sheuch and the ferry began to wallow heavily in the waves and take on water as the waves came crashing in over the prow. The lack of a load of cattle on the boat, the wind, and the large waves increased the ferry's instability and made it difficult to handle in the heavy weather. The wind slowly veered around so that it was coming out of the west, so the boat's progress toward Ireland was almost at a standstill.

One of the sailors was scurrying forward to tie down some rigging near where the three brothers were hanging on to the rails to keep from being washed overboard.

"What're the captain's orders for the boat?" asked Robert who had stopped the sailor.

"He's going to turn the ferry around and head back toward Portpatrick to see if we can outrun the storm back to Scotland."

"I suspect that we're long past half way already. By the time we make any progress back to Portpatrick, the gale will be past and the wind will veer around to come from the east again," said Robert, but since he wasn't the captain, there was nothing he could do about it.

The sailor nodded in agreement with Robert and returned to his duties. The captain shouted, "Man the pumps!" to the seamen, who had finished shortening the sails again and tying down all the rigging.

The three horses in the cattle pens had sensed the change in the weather as soon as the wind had increased. They had become restless, moving around the confined space of the pens and protesting loudly. Their eyes were wide with fear, and they were rearing up on their hind legs kicking at the cattle pen rails.

Robert told Hugh and Alex to see after the horses and calm them down, if they could, while he opened the gangway port on the prow of the ferry.

"If comes to it lads, we'll try to save the horses," said Robert, motioning Hugh and Alex toward the cattle pens where the horses were tied.

Soon the ferry was taking even a harder pounding by even larger waves that the wind had spawned. The water was pouring in over the entire length of the ferry in addition to the prow each time it plowed into a trough. The ferry was taking on more water than the pumps could shed. It was foundering lower into the water as the boat began to fill with sea water. It was beginning to look like they were going down.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed throughout the ferry as the main mast broke off at the slot where it passed through the main deck, just as the ferry was turning to head back toward Portpatrick. The packet rats, as the crew on board was called because of their somewhat dubious background, knew they were in trouble and began to make preparations to abandon ship prior to the captain's order. Even though they had been sailing for almost four hours, they had no idea how close they were to the Irish coast, since the weather had blocked visibility.

Robert yelled at Hugh and Alex, "Bring the horses up to the prow so we can get them free of the ferry if she goes down, lads."

Alex and Hugh put blindfolds on the three horses and led them up to the prow just as the ferry started to drop even lower into the water. The added drag of all the sea water in the boat and the broken mast, whose sails were hanging over the side into the water, caused the ferry to slowly turn into the waves. Robert knew that the ferry wouldn't last much longer, as he watched the waves crash into the side of boat. He thought it might be better for them to get away from it now rather than wait for the ferry to sink and possibly take them down with it.

The three brothers pulled off their boots, stuffed them into their saddle bags and mounted their horses. They jumped the horses into the water through the gangway port in the prow as the ferry plowed into a deep trough. The smell of land got the horses swimming toward Ireland. The three brothers slipped out of their saddles and moved back so that they were swimming behind their horses, holding onto their horses' tails. Most of the packet rats could not swim; they had never been taught to. Seamen were always the worst swimmers. Almost none of them could swim or had even tried to learn. They figured that if a ship went down at sea, there was probably nowhere to swim to anyway, so why bother. The packet rats were all scurrying around looking for something that would float that they could hang onto when the ferry plowed into a large wave and stayed down.

"Abandon ship!" yelled the captain as everyone made their way into the water.

John Mackenzie had made sure that his sons knew how to swim. When each one was about five years old, he would take him down to the river and throw him off a bank into the water. "Sink or swim!" he yelled, watching carefully in case he had to dive in to make a rescue. But, the lads all took to the water like ducks. Many summer family outings involved swimming in a loch or a river. All three brothers were very strong swimmers. They were also fair fish noodlers, especially Hugh, who seemed to have a knack for it.

Alex turned his head to look at the ferry just as the stern sank under the waves. The seamen who could swim were either swimming along behind the brothers, trying to follow them toward the Irish coast, or hanging on to anything that would float. There was nothing the brothers could do for the seamen in the heavy seas other than to lead them to land. At least there had been no cattle on board to get in the way of abandoning the ship.

The wind had moved around to blow from the north as the gale moved across the sea and was past them. The wind and waves were no longer hindering their progress toward the Irish shore.

It seemed like they had been swimming a long time when they heard the sound of the surf. The three brothers swam the last few yards and crawled out of the water to the beach. They collapsed in the sand, totally exhausted from the shipwreck ordeal. It appeared that they may have been the only survivors of the wreck, since none of the seamen had washed up on the shore with them.

"I told ye when we were back in Scotland that Ireland was close enough for us to swim it," Hugh panted as he looked at Alex and Robert.

* * * *

Kings Pinnacle Part 2

Robert and Hugh

The three Mackenzie brothers had settled into a fairly comfortable life over the past two years in Ireland on Angus MacDonald's cattle station. The brothers' days consisted of mending fences, herding cattle, and protecting them from predators, both animal and human. The Irish wood kernes rustled cattle at every opportunity, so the drovers were constantly watching for them and fighting them off. The brothers were normally up at the crack of dawn and rounding up the strays that had wandered away from the main herd during the night. They took shifts watching the cattle at night while the rest of the drovers slept back at the cattle station bunkhouse. The cattle herds were moved from pasture to pasture as the grass was grazed to give each pasture time to recover for the next grazing cycle.

The herd was thinned occasionally by Angus MacDonald so that the excess cattle could be rounded up and herded to the new cattle ferry and shipped to Scotland for sale. The occasional trip to Donaghadee or Belfast to buy goods and services and have a pint of ale was about the only distraction that the brothers allowed themselves. It was after one such trip and a pint or two apiece that Hugh brought up an issue that had been much on his and Robert's minds lately. It was an issue that he and Robert had already discussed and agreed on.

"Weel, Alex, laddie, ye can't stay here in Ireland. Robber has booked passage for ye to America on a brigantine ship called the Ocean Monarch, sailing out of Larne to Philadelphia. As ye know, the British Army has moved several new units to Derry, not far from here, to help us put down an insurrection of the wood kernes. Word has it that the British authorities are all still looking for ye, Alex. With the British Army moving in so close in force, it's highly likely that they'll catch ye. We've been in Ireland for over two years, and there's been nae let up in the search for ye. Ye must get away to America," said Hugh as he, Alex, and Robert were talking in the cattle station's bunkhouse.

Alex looked at Robert, and Robert just nodded that he agreed with Hugh. They had obviously already discussed it and considered all the other options.

The Plantation of Ulster was an organized settlement in Northern Ireland by British and Scottish farmers that had started in the early 1600s. All the lands in Northern Ireland that were formerly held by Celtic Irish chieftains were confiscated by King James and used to settle colonists from England and Scotland. In the late 1600s, the plan was to move outlaws and Reivers from Scotland to the Plantation. This was done in order to ease tensions along the Scottish English border and to help stabilize the Plantation, which covered almost all of Northern Ireland. The Mackenzie brothers had planned on finding work at the Plantation but decided it would be easier and more profitable to maintain their jobs at the cattle station.

From time to time, a group of Irish soldiers and former Irish landholders would attack the settlements to try to drive out the British and Scottish colonists. These bandits were known as wood kernes, and the military was often called on to supplement the colonists in fighting off their attacks. A large military garrison had been established at Derry for this purpose.

"Alex, there's nothing left for ye back in Scotland. Elizabeth Murray has one bairn on the ground and another on the way since she wed Sir George Hastings," Hugh went on.

They had gotten a letter a few weeks ago from their father that described the situation; it had also contained the information about Elizabeth Murray. Alex had always thought that he would eventually be able to go back to Scotland and rescue Elizabeth when they finally gave up the search for him. But now it looked like events in his life were taking a different course.

It was now late 1772, and colonization of America was in full swing, with ships leaving Ulster for ports in America, such as New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Charleston, on a weekly basis. The weather was cold and it looked like it could take a turn for the worse at any time.

"Are you two going with me?"

"Nae lad," said Robert. "We don't have enough money to pay for our passage, so Hugh and I are going back home."

"I would rather go with you two and take my chances in Scotland."

"Alex, you're eighteen years old now; you can look out for yourself. If you went back with us, you wouldn't last a month before the British had you."

"What will I do in America?"

"You'll have to figure that out when you get there, lad."

Angus MacDonald's cattle station was conveniently located just southwest of Donaghadee where both the ocean-going ferry boats and the cattle ferry landed. The three brothers saddled up their horses for the ride west from the cattle station, then through Belfast across the marshy ford where the Lagan River meets the Farset River. The last leg of the trip was north from Belfast along the coast road to Larne, where Alex would board the ship to America. It was about a thirty mile ride from the cattle station to Larne, so it took the brothers most of the day for the journey, including a tavern stop in Belfast. As soon as they arrived in Larne, they went to the docks to find the berth of the Ocean Monarch.

The trip to America would take at least five or six weeks or up to fourteen weeks if the winds were adverse. After surviving the sinking of the cattle ferry, Alex was not looking forward to another ocean voyage.

* * * *

Samuel

"Alex, lad, have ye been practicing yer swimming?" asked Hugh with a grin.

The three brothers were seated at a table in a small tavern located on the waterfront in Larne. They were waiting for the outgoing tide and the sailing orders for the Ocean Monarch. Each brother had a pewter tankard of ale in front of him. Hugh and Robert were talking with Alex and giving him some final advice for his trip to America.

Robert frowned at Hugh and said, "Alex, we didn't have enough money for a cot for you on the Ocean Monarch. We could just barely afford a hammock for you on board the ship."

"It was nae my fault! I gave ye all the money I had," said the indignant Hugh.

The Ocean Monarch was a retired British navy brigantine that had been converted for passenger service. The twelve-pound guns had been removed, and the gun decks had been enclosed from the weather and modified for passenger service. The brigantine had two masts that were both square-rigged. Brigantine ships were a favorite of navies and of merchant fleets around the world, but they were especially favored by brigands and pirates. Hence, they were called brigantines or brigs for short. The sleeping spaces between decks consisted of rows of cots that had been lined up side-by-side to maximize the use of the space. One section of a passenger deck was filled with hammocks, and the head room on this deck was so low that you had to walk in a stooped over position to reach your assigned hammock. It was this section of the passenger deck where Alex was assigned his sleeping hammock.

The Ocean Monarch provided passage to America for families, with men, women, and children crammed into every available space on the ship. There were also several young single men traveling to America. All of the young single men, including Alex, would be assigned sleeping accommodations based on how much they could pay and as far from the families traveling together as possible. There would be almost no privacy during the voyage. There were no dining facilities on the ship; all meals were eaten at one's assigned sleeping place or up on the main deck. After the first two weeks, the food would be moldy and spoiled. Disease on passenger ships was very common. Medical facilities were nonexistent and often people died during the crossing to America. Dead bodies were buried at sea, since there was no way to preserve them on the ship for later burial. The toilet facilities consisted of a pair of open-air heads at the bow of the ship.

There was a chance that Alex would not arrive in America at all. The dangers of disease, storms, fires, and pirates were always present during an ocean voyage.

"Alex, when you get to America, try to find some other Scots from the lowlands. Maybe you can find someone you know who can help you get started," said Robert.

"Aye, I will do it," replied Alex.

"They don't need no more Scots in America," said a man sitting at a table with two other men near the three brothers, having obviously overhead their conversation.

The man stood up and walked up to the three brother's table. He was a large man dressed in fashionable British clothes, and he was sneering at them.

"Weel, pardon me, lad, but what business is it of yers?" asked Hugh.

"I'm making it my business," said the large man.

When he heard the man's response and the surly tone of his voice, Hugh pushed his chair back and stood up. As he rose, he grasped the edge of the table and lifted it up, turning it over toward the man. The tankards of ale sitting on the table all fell towards the man, who stepped backwards, looking down, to avoid having his fine clothes drenched with ale.

Simultaneously, Hugh leaped over the table and planted his huge right fist directly into the man's jaw just as he looked up. The man's eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the floor, looking like a large tree that had just been sawn down. Just as the man hit the floor, Alex picked up his chair and hurled it at the other two men still sitting at their table. The men ducked the chair, but the thrown chair kept them seated and out of the fight.

Hugh stepped over the unconscious man and walked over to the table where the man's companions still sat and asked, "Anyone else here don't like Scots?"

The two men seated at the table looked at each other and then back at Hugh. After observing how large Hugh was and how easily he had felled their friend, they shook their heads vigorously. Hugh turned around, stepped back over the large man, who was still unconscious, and picked up the overturned table to set it back up. He ordered three more tankards of ale from the serving wench that had walked up after the altercation was over.

Hugh sat down, looked at Alex and Robert and said, "Weel, now where were we?"

The two men sitting at the table got up and walked over to their unconscious friend to rouse him.

"Wake up, Samuel," said one of the men, as he slapped the big man on the cheek.

The man named Samuel did not wake up, so his friends bent down and grasped him under each of his arms. They lifted his upper body and dragged him out of the tavern with his boots dragging across the floor. Dragging him down the street, they found a horse trough where they intended to splash some water on his face to wake him up.

Robert turned to Alex and said, "Hugh and I will take care of Hack for you. You can't take him with you."

"Thanks," was all Alex could say, as he realized how much he would miss his brothers and Hack in America.

* * * *

Alex

"Fareweel, Alex," yelled Hugh, waving at the departing young man standing at the rail of the ship.

The Ocean Monarch was sailing out of the Larne harbor on its way to Philadelphia. Alex waved back to indicate he had heard, but the lump in his throat would not allow him to shout anything back in answer to Hugh. Robert nodded and waved.

Alex was so distressed and sad at leaving his brothers that as soon as the land was out of sight, he climbed down the ladder to the deck where his hammock was hanging on a hook. He unfastened one end and attached it to the companion hook across the deck so that he could lie down in it. The combination of the long ride, sadness, and the tankards of ale caused him to drop into a deep sleep almost immediately. The gentle rolling of the ship put Alex into an even deeper sleep as the ship sailed along the northern Irish coast making its way toward the North Atlantic and west to America.

A sharp pain in his back suddenly woke Alex from his slumber. He opened his eyes to find the large man named Samuel, from the Larne tavern brawl, standing over his hammock looking down at him. Samuel had just kicked Alex in the back and that blow had jolted him out of sleep. Alex rolled out of the hammock to the side away from the large man and dropped into a fighter's crouch with one hand reaching down for his boot knife.

"There won't be no Scots sleeping in this section while Samuel Ruskin is alive," said the big man.

"I guess you'll have to leave this section then," replied Alex with a grin as he raked his long blond hair out of his eyes with his left hand.

"You're the one that's leaving, Scot, since you don't have your friends here to protect you."

"And who's planning on making me leave?"

"Me and me mates," replied Samuel as he gestured toward the other two men, the same ones that had been sitting at the table with him in the tavern.

The two men who were standing next to Samuel stepped away from him to give him more room, and one of them slipped around behind Alex.

"Three Brits to one Scot; I like those odds," said Alex as he reached his hand down closer to his boot knife.

But before he could grasp the knife in his boot sheath, Samuel's friend grabbed Alex from behind around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. The man then pulled Alex backwards and up as far as he could. The deck above them was so low that the clearance wouldn't allow the man to lift Alex up very much. Samuel and his other friend were on the other side of Alex's stretched out hammock, so they were going to have to walk around it to get to Alex. Alex saw that the situation would get bad for him quickly. He knew that he must find a way to get free of the man who was holding him pinned to his chest.

Alex first nodded his head down and then brought it back up quickly while arching his back at the same time. This contortion caused the back of Alex's head to strike the nose of the man holding him. The force of the blow both jammed the man's head into the deck above and broke his nose, which immediately started gushing blood. It also caused him to let go of Alex so that he could put both of his hands over his broken nose to stop the bleeding. As Alex dropped out the man's grasp, he reached down and drew his knife from the sheath built into his boot and reassumed a fighter's crouch. Only this time, he was holding a knife. The man with the broken nose was out of the action; he was sitting on the deck, holding his nose and moaning from the pain. The odds had been reduced from three to one down to two to one, plus Alex now had a knife in his hand.

"What in the devil is going on here?" shouted one of the ship's seamen as he ran along the deck to where the altercation was taking place.

"There's no difficulty," said Samuel Ruskin. "My friend here accidently slipped and fell down. I'm afraid that he may have broken his nose. This kindly young Scots lad got his knife out to cut some rags for him, to help stop the bleeding."

"Well that's not what it looked like to me, and if the captain hears about it, you four will be traveling to America in the hold. There's a brig down there just made for the likes of you."

"There's no need to tell the captain about a minor accident on the passenger deck. We'll get this blood cleaned up and everything back in order in no time at all."

The seaman relaxed a bit and seemed to be buying the story. "You might want to have the cook take a look at this fellow's nose. He doubles as the ship's doctor and might be able to set it back in place for him."

"We'll do that and don't bother about it anymore," said Samuel patting the seaman on the back as the young tar turned around and walked off.

As soon as the seaman was out of hearing range, Samuel turned to Alex and said, "This ain't finished yet, laddie." Alex just shrugged his shoulders as if it didn't matter to him. Samuel bent down to help his friend get up, and they walked off to another part of the deck. Alex knew he had dodged a musket ball and that it wasn't, in fact, over. He didn't have Hugh and Robert to back him up, so he would have to think of a way to take care of the situation himself. He lay back down and stretched out in his hammock to think about it; he was soon asleep again as if nothing had happened. Alex slept the rest of the day and all night without stirring.

The next day, it seemed as if an uneasy truce had been called between Alex and his foes and the men didn't start any more trouble. The crowding of the ship caused by well over a hundred passengers bound for America prevented any more confrontations, since little privacy existed on the ship. There were always people or sailors nearby.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"What will we do back home?" asked Hugh as he rode along beside Robert on the same Wigtown Road from Stranraer to Dumfries that they had ridden to Portpatrick over two years prior.

"We'll do what we've always done," replied Robert.

Hugh smiled to himself because he knew what Robert was talking about. Robert and Hugh had waved goodbye to Alex and then ridden back to the cattle station near Donaghadee to resign from their jobs as drovers. Since they had no connections or family in Ireland, there was no reason for them to stay there. The authorities were looking for Alex, not for them, so there was no real reason they couldn't go back where all their friends and family were located.

Angus MacDonald was sad to see them go because they were the best drovers he had ever hired. He also liked the lads very much and wished them well. But he understood that they would rather be home where they were born and be near their family and friends. Angus gave them a bonus of one week's pay and gave them free passage on the cattle ferry back across the Sheuch.

Robert sold his horse to one of the other drovers and rode Alex's horse, Hack, on the road home. The trip across Scotland was long and boring and not much fun without Alex, but they soon arrived back at their father's house.

"Alex was a wee sad to be gang to America," said Hugh to his father John.

"I ken so, but there be nae other options for him t' stay in Scotland or Ireland. The authorities would hae had him in a fortnight."

"That may be true, but he didn't want to be gang all the same."

"He'll be better aff in America. I ken that there's lots of opportunity in America, and a man can make something oot of himself there. It doesn't matter if ye were born nobility or common man; ye can make yer own fortune there if ye want to."

"I suspect so," replied Hugh conceding the point.

"What are ye and Robert gang to do back here?" asked John.

"Ride," said Robert interrupting the conversation between his father and brother.

* * * *

Alex

The voyage became uneventful as time wore on and the routine of ship life became monotonous. Each day was almost identical to the previous. Alex spent as much time as he could on the main deck, out in the sun and wind and away from the crowding on the sleeping deck. He got to know a few of the sailors fairly well and often helped them with the simple routine tasks around the ship. Most of the passengers were either English or Irish, so there weren't many Scots for Alex to associate with. He mostly stayed by himself and tried to mind his own business.

The Ocean Monarch was an old ship, so her hull leaked very badly. The bilge water that accumulated each day had to be pumped out using the bilge pump. The bilge pump itself consisted of a hollowed out round cylinder and piston that was located down in the bottom of the hold. It had been installed at the lowest point of the hold and had an inlet hose connected to it that stretched down into the bilge. The piston located inside the cylinder was attached to a long wooden pole that stretched all the way up to the main deck. The pole at the main deck was attached to a levered handle so that the piston could be pumped up and down by two men standing side-by-side on the main deck. The cylinder in the hold was also attached to an outlet pipe that ran up to the main deck and over to the scuppers. Two check valves at the inlet and outlet of the cylinder kept the water flowing in the discharge direction. The bilge water was pumped up and out of the scuppers where it flowed down the side of the ship into the sea. The sailors took turns working the pump handle up and down on the main deck to empty the bilge.

Alex often helped pump out the bilge water and also learned how to be a pretty fair hand at mending sails. The sails of the Ocean Monarch had been in service a long time and were tattered and patched in many places. Alex frequently worked at sewing patches into the sails where they had been torn or worn by the wind and water. He hoped that his trip to America would be a swift one.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

The outlaw band rode off the main trail and swept in across the marshes on horseback just after the full moon had risen high enough in the sky to cast an eerie light on the farmstead. It was well past midnight, and the English farmhouse was dark inside. The farm's dogs were the first to smell and then see the strange horses. A weak lamp was lit in the farmhouse kitchen window as soon as the dogs' barking woke up the people inside the farmhouse. The raiders were after the livestock and anything else of value that they could lay their hands on.

As the riders approached the farmstead, they fanned out into their assigned tasks like clockwork. The raid had been intricately planned, and the raiders, who had been in the saddle for hours, were expected to execute the final phase of the plan without any hesitation or confusion. One group of riders opened the corral gate and began to herd the horses out into the night. Another group opened the barn to see if there were any livestock such as cattle that they could rustle, and the third group of riders dismounted at the farmhouse to kick open the front door and see if any valuables were easy to pick up inside.

Hugh led the group of riders toward the corral, Robert led the riders into the barn, and their father, John was leading the group that kicked in the farmhouse door. John knew something was wrong as soon as he stepped into the farmhouse. He had expected crying and wailing and frightened farmers inside the farmhouse, but there weren't any. What he faced was a dozen muskets aimed at him by British soldiers. John immediately saw that it was a trap so he dove out through a front window, breaking the glass into thousands of pieces. He landed on the porch just before musket fire erupted from inside the farmhouse.

After rolling across the porch, he picked himself up and ran toward his horse yelling, "Ambush!" British soldiers had popped up in the loft of the barn and more came running from behind outbuildings. They also streamed from every other hiding place that could be found on the farm. John mounted his horse just as more musket fire erupted from all directions around the farm.

All the raiders immediately aborted the raid and started making their escape. The riders had a plan in case they encountered an ambush or anything else unexpected. They knew that some of them would be captured or killed, but to increase the odds that most of them would escape, they all fled in different predetermined directions like the spokes of a wheel radiating out from its hub. That was the plan, rather than fleeing in a large group and risking a mass capture or even worse, a mass killing.

Robert and Hugh were riding side-by-side due west at an all-out gallop, making toward the trees, when a musket shot rang out in their direction. The speeding musket ball was a lucky shot, and it struck Hugh high in his back near his left shoulder. Fortunately for Hugh, he was wearing a three-inch wide leather belt over his left shoulder. The belt crossed his body diagonally and was attached to the scabbard that held his short sword on his right hip. The leather shoulder strap was decorated with brass medallions, and the musket ball struck one of those brass medallions, saving Hugh from a painful shoulder wound. But the force of the blow knocked Hugh forward and completely off the right side of his horse. As Hugh struck the ground, his right collar bone struck the ground first and snapped like a green twig. Hugh passed out from the pain, lying on his back on the ground.

Robert saw Hugh fall and immediately reined up Alex's horse, Hack. He rode back to where Hugh had fallen and dismounted next to him.

"Hugh, wake up, lad," said Robert as he went down to his knees and lifted the unconscious Hugh in his arms and shook him gently.

Hugh groaned, opened his eyes and whispered, "Leave me Robber, and get out of here before the soldiers come."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"I can't ride with the pain in me shoulder, and ye will get us both captured if ye try to carry me."

Robert knew that Hugh was right, so he made his decision immediately. "Don't give up hope, Hugh," he said as he gently laid Hugh back down and remounted Hack.

Robert had just passed into the cover of the trees when a group of British soldiers rode up to the hollow where Hugh was lying. They dismounted and lifted Hugh to his feet. From the way he held his right arm and his obvious pain, they knew that his collar bone was broken. One of the soldiers unbuttoned the middle of Hugh's shirt and placed Hugh's right hand and forearm into the gap. He then buttoned it back up to hold the arm in place. The soldiers removed all of Hugh's weapons and gently lifted him up onto one of the horses to lead it back to the farmhouse.

When the group arrived back at the farmhouse, the soldiers dragged Hugh off his horse and led him up to the British Army officer who was waiting for them on the porch.

"Well, if it isn't one of the outlaw leaders," said the officer as he stepped off the porch and placed his hand on Hugh's right shoulder, kneading it back and forth with his fingers. As the broken bones ground together, Hugh passed out from the pain and collapsed to the ground, unconscious once again.

"We leave immediately for Fort Craghead. Throw the big Scot into the wagon," commanded the officer to the troops who were standing around the unconscious Hugh.

"How many of them did we capture?" asked the officer of his sergeant.

"Sir, this one is the only one we captured alive. We killed four others with our initial musket volleys," replied the sergeant.

"Very well, I had hoped for more captives, but this one will do. Bring me the dead outlaws and line them up on the porch so I can get a look at them. I want to get out of here as soon as possible."

The sergeant gave orders to the men to bring the dead raiders to the farmhouse and lay them out where the commander could get a good look at them. The officer had lit a lamp and he held it up to the dead men's faces as he walked along the line of the four dead men.

"These are not the leaders. Load them with this big ugly Scot on the wagon. We leave in five minutes."

When the troops had crossed the marshes and reached the main road from the farmstead, the commander called for a halt and rode back to the wagon with his sergeant.

"Sergeant, get some ropes and hang these dead men in this tree beside the road, where everyone who passes by can see them."

"Sir, are you sure you want to do that?" asked the sergeant.

"You have your orders, sergeant; get to it. I want this to be a reminder to all outlaws that this is their fate."

"As you wish," replied the skeptical sergeant.

As soon as the gruesome task was completed, the infantry unit moved out, marching down the road toward Fort Craghead. It was only a two hour journey from the hanging tree to the fort. The rising sun was almost peeking over the ridge in the east as the last man rode through the fort's main gate.

Not far off to the east in the distance, a lone rider had reined up on the ridge, watching the troops and the wagon carrying Hugh file through the gate. When the sun finally rose above the horizon and shone on the rider's back, Robert smiled as he patted Hack on the neck.

* * * *

Alex

"It looks like rain today, Alex," said one of the young sailors that Alex had befriended, as he looked up toward the gathering clouds.

It was a cold, windy day with low clouds scurrying over the two masts. They had been at sea for six weeks, making slow progress to America because the wind had not been favorable. The passengers and crew had celebrated Christmas several days ago, and it had been fairly smooth but slow sailing after that. It had been a routine voyage so far, with only minor illnesses and a few issues with the food.

"Might be," replied Alex who was strolling around the main deck of the Ocean Monarch.

No sooner had Alex spoken than the wind picked up and soon it began to rain. It wasn't a hard rain but a steady one that seemed to intensify with each passing minute. The sea became rougher, and soon the ship began plowing into the waves much like the cattle ferry had when Alex and his brothers were crossing the Sheuch. Alex had seen this all before and was afraid that this would be a repeat of his previous ocean experience. He doubted that he could swim to America from this far out at sea, and the ocean water was extremely cold this time of year.

The captain came up from his cabin to take command of the ship from the officer of the day watch while the storm was raging. After he observed the deteriorating situation, he shouted, "All hands on deck!"

All the sailors came streaming up from below and took their assigned positions on the deck and in the rigging. The captain yelled, "Shorten sail!" and the first mate yelled, "Man the pumps!" as the ship began taking on more water. The seaman scurried to carry out the orders. One young tar ran to the bilge pump and motioned for Alex to join him at the pump handle. They began pumping out the sea water as fast as they could pump the handle. Some of the rigging fowled in the wind and broke loose. The bosun sent the seaman who had been working the pump with Alex aloft to help mend the broken sheets and hawsers. He sent one of the cabin boys below to commandeer one of the other passengers to help Alex, who was now pumping out the bilge water alone at the bilge pump handle.

Alex glanced up from his task and saw the cabin boy leading Samuel Ruskin to the pumping position beside him. As the big man grasped the moving pump handle, he turned to Alex and said, "Let me show you how a man works a pump, laddie."

Alex smiled at him and just kept working the pump. Samuel started pumping furiously and Alex was pressed to keep up with the pace that Samuel had set. But Samuel soon began to tire and then fell back into a more reasonable pumping rhythm. Alex was having no trouble keeping the pace now and holding up his end of the task. As the day wore on, the pumping became all-consuming for Alex and Samuel, and the rain and rough seas did not let up. Samuel's hands soon began to blister, and the blisters broke open and bled. He was definitely not used to this type of work, so his hands were soft. Alex had been pumping from time to time throughout the entire voyage, so his hands were as tough as leather.

"You had better go below and have those hands looked at," Alex yelled at Samuel through the rain and howling wind.

"Mind your own business, Scot."

"Suit yourself," said Alex as he glanced at Samuel's bleeding hands.

It wasn't long before Samuel couldn't bear the pain anymore, so he let go of the pump handle and glowered at Alex. Alex ignored him and kept on pumping. Samuel sulked away to the deck ladder to go below, not looking back at Alex. Alex smiled to himself. He knew that he had won that round, but the fight still wasn't over by a long shot.

The worst of the storm was soon past, and the rain began to let up. Alex was finally relieved at the pump by one of the seamen and soon the rain stopped altogether. Alex finally went below and dropped into a deep sleep in his hammock.

* * * *

Hugh

"Major Leyden Thomas, at your service, Sir," said the dandy British major in a much clipped British accent as he strode into the Fort Craghead commandant's office.

He reported to the commandant with a smart salute, as required by military protocol. The major's uniform was very crisp and clean. It was cut into the latest style, with a high collar, and tapered to fit his trim physique. His knee high boots were polished to a high gloss. His mustache was waxed, with the ends twirled into military points. He sported a monocle that was tied to a black leather band around his neck, and it was resting on his chest. He was the very epitome of a British upper-class army officer.

The major had ridden into Fort Craghead with two mounted troops, who wore the insignia of his aides, and up to the commandant's office, where they dismounted. The major had handed his reins to one of his aides and given him instructions to wait for him to return.

"Welcome to Fort Craghead, Major; I'm Colonel Barkley" replied the commandant.

"How may I assist you?" continued the commandant.

"I have orders to collect one of your prisoners, if you would be so kind," replied the major.

"May I see your orders?" asked the colonel.

The major unbuttoned his military jacket and reached into an inside pocket to draw out a folded document, tied with a ribbon and sealed with a wax seal, which he handed to the commandant.

"This may take a moment; if you wouldn't mind waiting, I would appreciate it," said the commandant, gesturing toward an empty chair on the other side of his desk as he broke open the sealed orders.

"It's no difficulty," replied the major, as he took the offered seat, crossed his legs, yawned, and patted his mouth with a very bored expression.

The major then raised his monocle to his eye and surveyed the commandant's office with a look of distaste, as if evaluating outdated decor. The prisoner that he had come to take custody of was Hugh Mackenzie. Hugh had been brought into the camp a few days earlier and was being interrogated daily for intelligence about an outlaw band that had been raiding English estates along the border with Scotland.

They had begun each interrogation by beating Hugh with rifle butts and clubs and kicking him in the ribs after he fell down to the ground. But the stubborn Hugh wouldn't open his mouth and talk. Just the day before, they had been holding his head under water repeatedly in a horse trough until he started to drown. As he began to involuntarily suck water into his lungs, they would pull his head out of the water. After reviving him, they asked him questions as soon as he regained enough breath to talk. At one point, when they pulled him out of the trough, he failed to revive. Only after repeatedly pounding him on the back and chest did he begin to breathe again.

"Don't kill him lads," the officer supervising the questioning had said. "He's no good to us dead."

Hugh looked like death itself. His eyes were almost swollen shut from the beatings. He had deep blue and purple bruises on his face and chest, back and sides. He also had two broken ribs, as well as the broken collar bone that his questioners repeatedly hammered during each torture session. This had set back the healing process and caused Hugh great pain. Hugh had already given himself up as a dead man. He knew he wouldn't survive his captivity, so he had decided that he wouldn't say anything to anyone during his short stay at the fort. And he hadn't said anything so far except for the occasional involuntary groan when the pain became too intense.

Across the fort from Colonel Barkley's office, the interrogating officer was once again confronting Hugh.

"You're a stubborn one, Mackenzie," said officer. "But you are eventually going to tell me what I want to know. Of that ye can be sure."

Hugh managed a slight grin as he looked at the man and said nothing. It was going to be another long day. Hugh wasn't certain how long he could hold out, but he was going to do his best, as he had done each day of the interrogation. He had not yet lost count of how many days he had been a captive. He still remembered Robert's last words to him as he lay on the ground near the farmhouse, "Don't give up hope, Hugh." But he knew that he was slipping fast.

Back in his office, the commandant finished reading the orders handed to him by the major. "I'm sorry, Major, but I cannot fulfill your orders at this time," said the commandant to the very bored Major Leyden Thomas, who sat across the desk from him.

"May I ask why not? Is there something wrong with the orders?" asked the major.

"No Major, the orders are valid and correct. It's just that the prisoner you seek is still under interrogation and may be so for many more days."

"Ah, well, General Howe will be sorely disappointed," replied the major, standing and straightening his uniform while preparing to walk out of the commandant's office. "I will be on my way to report back to the general the results of my fruitless mission for him."

At the mention of General Howe's name, the commandant immediately stood up and said, "Ah, let's not be too hasty, Major. If you will follow me, we can double check to see if the questioning has concluded or progressed far enough for me to release the prisoner to you and the general."

"As you wish," replied the major with an exasperated expression.

He followed the commandant across the fort to a one-room outbuilding behind the stables that was normally used for tack storage and saddle and harness repair. They walked into the outbuilding to find the interrogation getting underway. As the pair walked in, the officer conducting the interrogation stood and walked up the commandant and the major.

"May I help you, Colonel Barkley?" asked the officer, saluting his superior officer.

"No, not necessary," replied the commandant returning the salute. "The major here with me has orders to take custody of the prisoner, but I told him that I could not release the prisoner until the questioning was completed. I see that it is still in progress, so I will have to send the major away empty-handed."

"Pity," was the only thing the major said while maintaining his bored expression.

"Who wants my prisoner?"

"General Howe," relied the commandant.

"Why does General Howe want my prisoner?" the officer asked, turning toward the major.

"The general does not explain his reasoning to me," replied the major haughtily.

The officer and the commandant knew that General Howe was a rising star in the British Army, and both desperately wanted to advance in the British Army. The gears in their minds began to turn as they weighed the cost of holding onto Hugh and continuing the questioning versus the benefit of giving Hugh to the major and thus pleasing General Howe. After several days of fruitless questioning, everyone was becoming bored with the interrogation anyway, and it looked as if Hugh would die before he talked. So the officer and the commandant reached the same conclusion--they might as well cut their losses and try to make something of benefit out of the situation.

"This interrogation is in fact at an end. I have no objections to releasing my prisoner to this major," said the officer, who received a nod of assent from the commandant.

The officer then turned to the major and said, "Major, mention my name and generosity to General Howe, if you please."

"You can rest assured that I will," replied the major.

"Can you clean him up a bit and tie him onto a horse for me?" asked the major, with a disgusted look on his face, as he held his monocle up to his eye to look at Hugh.

Hugh stared back at the major with a blank expression.

"He's so dirty and smells terrible. I don't want my aides to have to touch him. I doubt he will be able to ride without being tied into the saddle," said the major, pulling out a scented handkerchief from the sleeve of his jacket and holding it to his nose.

"Of course we can, sir," replied the sergeant, who was in charge of the detail and had been Hugh's chief tormentor and questioner.

The commandant and the major strolled back to the commandant's office to wait for the soldiers to deliver Hugh.

"May I offer you a glass of sherry while we wait?" asked the commandant.

"I'd be most pleased. It would help settle the trail dust and wash away that disgusting smell," replied the major.

A short time later, the sergeant entered the commandant's office, saluted and said, "The prisoner is outside and waiting, sirs."

"Thank you, Sergeant. You are dismissed," replied the commandant as the sergeant executed an about face and walked out of the commandant's office.

"Major, it has been a pleasure meeting you. Here are your countersigned orders," said the commandant, as he handed the orders back to the major.

"I will mention your cooperation, efforts and willingness to fulfill his orders to General Howe," said the major, standing and saluting the commandant.

"Thank you very much and good luck," replied the commandant.

The major turned and walked out of the commandant's office. He gave his aides some brief instructions for escorting the prisoner and then mounted up to lead his party, now with the prisoner in tow, out past the gate of Fort Craghead.

As soon as they were a few miles out of sight of the fort, the major turned off the main road and onto a side trail that led into the marshes. He followed the side trail a short distance until he came to a small pond, where he led his party into a grove that was shielded from sight of the trail and gave orders to dismount.

"Untie the prisoner and pull him off his horse gently, lads," said the major in his normal Scottish accent.

"Your face looks pretty bad, Hugh," said Robert, as he pulled off the major's uniform and looked at it with disgust.

"Weel, ye should see the other lad," said Hugh with a grin.

"I did," replied Robert. "That lad's knuckles did look badly bruised."

At which Hugh started to laugh, but he stopped short and grabbed his broken ribs.

"Robber, don't make me laugh. It hurts too much. By the way, where did you get that mustache?" asked Hugh.

Robert just smiled at him.

* * * *

Alex

After the storm passed, the ship, crew and passengers returned to their normal daily routines. Alex slept late in his hammock the next day and finally awoke when the sun was high in the sky. He got up and began a search for something to eat; he was famished from the previous day's effort. One of the young sailors Alex was friendly with found him in the galley trying to beg something to eat from the cook.

"Alex, the captain wants to see you in his cabin," said the young tar.

"Aye, I'll go there right now," replied Alex.

Alex gave up his search for food and climbed the ladder up to the main deck. He made his way aft and climbed the ladder to quarterdeck, where he asked the captain's steward to lead him to the captain's quarters. The steward was aware that the captain had asked to see him, so he led Alex into the corridors behind the wheelhouse. When he arrived at the captain's quarters, the steward knocked on the captain's door.

"Captain, the passenger that ye requested to see is here," said the steward.

"Show him in," replied the captain.

The steward opened the captain's door and motioned for Alex to enter.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Mackenzie. Have a seat," said the captain.

"It's my pleasure, sir. What can I do for you?"

"First I want to thank you for helping the crew during the storm yesterday. Without your help, we might have had much more difficulty handling the ship during the deluge. By keeping the bilge pumps going, you made the ship easier to handle during the storm and kept it from wallowing so much in the waves. I have also noticed during the voyage that you often help the crew with mending sails and other such shipboard duties. For that I would also like to thank you," said the captain.

"No thanks are necessary, captain. I enjoy staying busy and there's not much else for me to do other than eat and sleep," replied Alex.

"We are most likely about two weeks from Philadelphia. It's been a longer than expected voyage, and the crew and passengers are getting anxious to arrive. When we do arrive in Philadelphia, I know that I will have some desertions among the crew. On each trip a few of the crew decide that they would rather try their luck in America rather than serving on a passenger ship. I know I'll be shorthanded on the return voyage. I was wondering if you would like to join the crew for the return voyage. I know it's unlikely since you paid to go to America, but I thought I would ask anyway."

"Sir, I am honored that you have made me the offer, but I must respectfully decline. I intend to start a new life in America and I believe that is the life that is meant for me. Thank you very much for the offer though."

"Well, I had to try. Thanks for coming to speak with me and best of luck to you in America. My steward will show you out," concluded the captain.

The steward was summoned, but before he could lead Alex out the door, Alex turned to the captain. "Captain, sir," said Alex, "there is something else you could do for me, if you want to show your thanks."

"What is that, lad?" asked the captain.

"You could ask the cook to give me a bit of food to help me regain my strength," said Alex with a grin.

"That I can do, and gladly," replied the captain, returning Alex's smile. "Steward, please see to it." The steward acknowledged the order and led Alex back to the ladder from the quarterdeck to the main deck and directly to the galley, where Alex received his reward in the form of the best meal he had eaten since the voyage began.

The last two weeks of the voyage were uneventful. The arrival in Philadelphia was much anticipated by all the passengers. At first sight of land, the passengers began to gather their possessions on the main deck. As soon as the ship docked, they disembarked down the gangplank as quickly as it was put into position. Alex was a bit overwhelmed and didn't really know where to go or what to do, so he lingered on the Ocean Monarch's main deck until all the other passengers had departed. He watched Samuel Ruskin and Ruskin's two friends walk down the gangplank and be greeted by some friends or associates. The group of young men all walked off together, animatedly talking to each other, without a backward glance at the ship or Alex. Finally Alex, who was the last passenger to leave the ship, walked down the gangplank with his rifle, his dirk, and his remaining few possessions in an old rucksack that he carried over one shoulder. He had finally arrived in America and didn't have a clue where to go or what he was going to do, but he was happy the ocean voyage was over.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"How did the British know in advance that we would raid that farmstead across the border?" asked Robert.

"We had a traitor in our midst and he hae been found and dealt with," replied John with a grimace, thinking of the ordeal with the traitor.

"Who was it?" asked Robert.

"It was ane that we didn't suspect, but he is nae longer residing on the earth, and we have more important matters to attend to. It's nae safe here fer ye twa lads after they unravel the trick ye've done to free Hugh," continued John Mackenzie, sitting with Robert and Hugh in the woods near John's house.

Robert nodded in agreement.

"What do ye suppose we should do?" asked Hugh who was lying on the ground in a comfortable position with his feet propped up on a log and his hands behind his head.

"I think ye should follow Alex to America," replied John. "Ye have enough money from raiding to buy yer passage. So, I would high tail it back across the Sheuch to Ireland and grab the first ship oot o' Larne. It's nae safe fer ye to try and sail oot o' Scotland. Ye can be sure that the authorities will be on the lookout fer ye twa lads at every port in Scotland."

Robert and Hugh had separated from their two companions as soon as they had disposed of the military uniforms. They had found a place in the wilderness to camp and allow Hugh to heal and recover his health before they moved on. Hugh was a fast healer, and it wasn't long before he was getting restless to move around. Robert had to threaten him with his life and almost tie him down until his collar bone was healed well enough for him to ride.

As soon as Hugh could ride, they made their way via the back trails to the dense trees near their father's house in Hathkirk. After receiving word where they were hidden, their father had joined them to discuss what they should do.

"They'll probably be looking for us in Portpatrick too," said Robert. "We'll have to figure a way to get across the Sheuch again without kicking up much notice, but they won't be as thick there as they will be in Glasgow, Edinburgh, and the other large ports."

"Find Alex in America and look oot fer the lad," said John with a tear in his eye because he knew that he probably would never see any of his three sons again after Robert and Hugh went to America. After many hugs and a few more tears, John said his goodbyes to Hugh and Robert and then walked out of the woods toward his home as the sun was dropping low in the west.

The two brothers camped out for awhile longer in the woods near their father's house so that Hugh could completely heal, and they could wind up their affairs as quietly as possible. It wasn't long before they saddled up, said their final goodbyes to their father, friends and other family members, and set out for Portpatrick.

There was constant danger on the trail that they would be spotted and captured while traveling to Portpatrick, so they rode at night and slept during the day. The trip was tiring at first, but soon they got their body clocks adjusted to the new sleeping schedule. Before long, the outskirts of Portpatrick appeared in the distance, bathed in morning sun. Prior to entering the town, Robert took a side trail that led them toward the south, off the main road they were following, as the sun continued to rise in the eastern sky. He stopped at a small stream-fed valley just to the east and a little south of the Portpatrick cattle pens.

"Let's hold up here and sleep today. I am beat. Tonight we can get up and about and do a little scouting," said Robert as he dismounted Hack to help set up their camp and lay out their bedrolls.

* * * *

Alex

"What do you think you're doin', laddie?" yelled the barrel-chested Irishman.

Alex ignored the question and pretended that he hadn't heard, even though the comment was obviously directed at him.

"I said, what do you think you're doin'?" repeated the big Irishman.

Alex ignored the question again. The big Irishman sauntered over to where Alex was standing, near the bottom of the gangplank, in a line of young men waiting to unload a ship that had just docked in the harbor in Philadelphia. The Irishman walked up to Alex and stood with his nose an inch from Alex's nose.

"We already got enough men to unload this ship, and we don't need you," said the Irishman.

"Who put you in charge?" replied Alex.

"I'm Big Mike Finn, best man on the docks, and you better be gone before I get angry."

Alex had been loitering around at the docks since he had arrived in Philadelphia. He had finally walked down the gangplank of the Ocean Monarch after everyone else had already departed. But since he had nowhere to go, he stayed by the docks in hopes that something would turn up. He was attempting to get a job unloading ships, because he was running low on money. Alex had thought that this would be a good way to replenish his stash, but his plan didn't look so good now.

Philadelphia looked a great deal like any crowded English or European city. When William Penn had founded Philadelphia in 1701 with a written charter, he had designed the city using a grid plan that included wide streets and large lots. The lots had been designed with a building located in the middle of each one of them and yards and gardens all around the structure. He had wanted the city to look like a rural English village rather than a crowded, dirty city. He had also designed the city to have a port and government center along the Delaware River. But the residents hadn't followed Penn's plan. By the mid-1700s they had subdivided and resold their lots along the Delaware, so that it now looked a lot like any other crowded, dirty city.

Alex had been homesick since he had arrived in America and he badly wanted to return to his family in Scotland. But he didn't have nearly enough money for the passage back home. He also knew that a rope with a noose at the end of it, or a musket ball, was waiting for him back there. He had been sleeping in an old abandoned warehouse near the docks since he had arrived. Alex knew that the Irish lads had a monopoly on unloading ships at the docks and didn't allow outsiders. But he was getting desperate and was worried about having enough money to buy something to eat.

Big Mike Finn was the leader of the Irishmen who worked unloading and loading the ships at the dock. Mike wasn't as big as Hugh, and as a matter of fact, he was a medium sized barrel-chested man with red hair and a red beard. All the Irishmen who worked the docks liked him, and his status increased through the force of his personality, to the point where he was their unelected leader. He just seemed bigger than his stature indicated, hence the name, Big Mike. Big Mike was protective of his men, and he didn't tolerate outsiders. But Big Mike secretly had a heart of gold, especially where women were concerned. He didn't really have anything against Alex personally. It was just that Alex wasn't an Irishman and the Irish controlled the docks. There was only enough work for a few men, and they already had all the Irishmen they needed.

As soon as Big Mike had yelled at him, Alex knew that he wasn't going to get any work. So he stepped up even closer to the Irishman so that their noses were almost touching and said, "Maybe you'd better cool off."

Alex had slipped his foot behind Big Mike's ankle while he was talking, and when he had finished speaking, Alex shoved Big Mike as hard as he could. Big Mike had his back to the ocean and the push caused him to trip so that he stumbled off the dock into the cold, dirty seawater.

Big Mike bobbed up from the cold water, sputtering and yelled at the other Irishmen, "Get him!" pointing at Alex.

Alex was already running as fast as a hare away from the docks before Big Mike had yelled at his crew. Alex had a huge lead, as usual, and it wasn't long before he was so far ahead that the Irishmen chasing him gave up the pursuit.

When the other men in line, waiting to unload the ship, were turned away from the ship watching Alex and his pursuers, two young women walked down the gangplank to depart from the ship. Big Mike had just climbed back up onto the pier out of the cold water and met them at the bottom of the gangplank.

"Top o' the morning to you, lassies," said the soaking wet Mike, taking off his cap and bowing extravagantly to the two young women.

The two young women giggled and smiled at Big Mike as they strolled off the dock and into the city. Their dresses were plain, but clean, and they had just arrived on the ship from Europe. The two young women were off to look for work in Philadelphia in order to make their way in the colonies. Molly and Maggie were both very beautiful and Big Mike never forgot a face.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Robber, do ye think it be dark enough to take a look see?" asked Hugh.

Robert nodded.

The two brothers mounted their horses and rode toward the cattle pens just south of Portpatrick. They let their noses guide them, just as they had done the first time they arrived in Portpatrick, and soon the smell of cattle was overpowering. After riding through the brush and circling around to the south of the pens, they tied up their horses to some bushes in a small clearing. Then they crawled up to a rise where they could lie flat and watch the activity in and around the cattle pens.

After thirty minutes of watching, they decided that the only thing that was moving was a single night watchman who was riding a slow circuit around the pens and the ferry dock. Robert thought he recognized the man, but he wasn't sure.

"You stay put while I crawl down and look around," Robert whispered to Hugh.

Hugh nodded, and Robert crawled down the slope to get a closer look. When he got close enough, the moonlight revealed the shining insignia on the collar of the British Army uniform that the watchman was wearing. Robert realized that the horseman was not one of the regular night watchmen, but was in fact a British soldier. This was not what he had hoped for, since it meant that sailing on the cattle ferry to Ireland was going to be a problem. Robert stayed where he was and allowed the night watchman to pass. As he looked around, he saw two tents near the cattle pens, with a picket line of horses tied up behind them. The British military was evidently very interested in the cattle pens and the cattle ferry. Robert was worried that he and Hugh might not be taking the cattle ferry across the Sheuch as he had planned. As soon as the night watchman was on the far side of his circuit, Robert reversed his course and crawled back up to where Hugh was laying.

"Soldiers," whispered Robert.

Hugh nodded, and they both moved back down the rise to the bushes where they had tied their horses.

Robert decided that they would ride around a little further to the south and west of the cattle pens to see if he could find any other alternatives. Robert and Hugh tied up their horses again, and they both crawled closer to the cattle pens to a spot where they could lie flat and look at the pens. Robert told Hugh to wait for him while he explored closer to the pens to see if he could determine anything. He moved in a crouch as far as he could while the night watchman was furthest away from him. Then he dropped to the ground to crawl the rest of the way in.

When Robert was crawling toward the pens, he got another idea and turned left, crawling toward the Sheuch. When he got to the beach, he stashed his boots under some rocks and brush and waded out into the water. As soon as he had waded out to where the water was deep enough, Robert swam north, parallel to the beach, toward the dock where the cattle ferry was tied up. The swim was only about a half mile, which took almost no effort for Robert. He turned a little east and swam up to the dock and the cattle ferry tied to it.

The cattle ferry was secured by ropes to the dock for the night. Robert reached the ferry, where he found the end of a rope dangling in the water on the side toward the sea. He grasped the rope and used it to climb up the side and over the gunwale of the ferry. After creeping around and exploring the boat for a while, he finally found two of the drovers asleep on the weather side of the deck. He knew both men, so he decided to wake one of them up quietly. Crawling up to the man that he knew best, Robert put his hand over the man's mouth. The startled man awoke immediately and attempted to cry out, but Robert's hand muffled the cry.

"Daniel, it's me, Robert; don't cry out," Robert whispered in the man's ear as he slowly took his hand away from his mouth.

"Who?" asked Daniel.

"Robert Mackenzie; please keep your voice down," whispered Robert.

"Aye, Robert. I haven't seen ye in a while."

"I know. What are all the soldiers doing about?"

"Looking for ye and yer brute of a brother," whispered Daniel.

"I was afraid that might be the case. Are the soldiers up in Portpatrick also?"

"Aye, there're everywhere as near as I can tell."

"Do you think there is any way Hugh and I can climb aboard the cattle ferry and hide in the hold to ride over the Sheuch when you leave in the morning?"

"Nae, Robert. The soldiers always check the boat from stem to stern before we cast off. There's no place we could hide ye two and guarantee that ye wouldn't be found."

"Well, it was just a thought. Thanks for the information. Don't tell anyone I was here."

"Good luck to ye and Hugh. I always liked ye two," whispered Daniel as Robert disappeared over the side of the ferry and slipped silently into the water.

The other drover never woke during the quiet conversation between Daniel and Robert, which made Robert feel better. There would only be one person who could tell tales about him rather than two. Robert retraced his swim by moonlight, crawled out of the water and found his boots. He walked in a crouch back to where Hugh was waiting and told him about his conversation with Daniel.

"Weel Robber, what's the new plan?" asked Hugh.

"I'll let ye know as soon as I figure it out," answered Robert.

* * * *

* * * *

Alex

It hadn't taken Alex very long to outrun the mob chasing him away from the docks in Philadelphia. He knew he could easily get away from them. But he also finally realized that he was never going to make his way in Philadelphia. He had no kin to rely on, and he didn't know anyone who could help him get a start. So far, he hadn't met many other Scots, and none who knew him or his family. As soon as he had lost his pursuers, he doubled back to the old, abandoned warehouse that had been his temporary home and gathered up his few belongings. He packed them in his rucksack and slung it over his shoulder. After he gathered up his rifle and powder horn and slid his dirk into his belt, he mentally said goodbye to Philadelphia and walked west until he left the town behind him.

Alex knew that the land that was located closest to Philadelphia was already settled, and there were plenty of people to do all the work that needed doing. He thought that he might have better luck out west where all the land wasn't already claimed and where there weren't so many people to do all the work. He had heard talk on the docks and on the Ocean Monarch about the frontier and the hearty pioneers who were attempting to settle this wild land. So Alex lit out on The Great Wagon Road toward the American frontier wilderness and into its primeval forest.

The Great Philadelphia Wagon Road or just The Great Wagon Road, as the settlers and pioneers called it, had started as a collection of old Indian and game trails that the Iroquois tribesmen and their predecessor tribes used for hunting and also for trading with the settlers around Philadelphia. These same tribesmen also used these trails to make war on the settlers from time to time.

The initial segment of The Great Wagon Road was a flat trail running west northwest from Philadelphia to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. At Lancaster, the trail turned slightly to the southwest towards York. It followed from York to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania and then wound through a valley to cross the first Appalachian mountain range southwest of Gettysburg. Then the trail led southwest to Hagerstown, Maryland, just across the Pennsylvania/Maryland border. Southwest of Hagerstown, it crossed the Potomac River at Williamsport, Maryland where the Conococheague Creek flowed into the Potomac. An early settler named Evan Watkins operated a ferry there for people and livestock to cross the river. Thus, the ferry at Williamsport was called the Watkins Ferry.

From Watkins Ferry, The Great Wagon Road followed valleys and river banks to Winchester, Virginia and then onward to the southwest. Eventually it ended in Augusta, Georgia. The entire trail covered a total distance of over seven hundred miles. The treaty of Lancaster in 1744 and some subsequent treaties between the settlers and the powerful Six Nations of the Iroquois allowed the settlers to use The Great Wagon Road. Thousands of English, Scots Irish, and Germanic settlers used the access provided by this trail to enter the interior of the continent and claim lands in the west.

In the early 1770s, the trail was almost always traveled on foot or horseback, with the occasional small, two-wheeled wagon in tow. After the close of the American Revolution, settlers normally would depart from Philadelphia walking toward Lancaster, Pennsylvania. In Lancaster, they would purchase a Conestoga wagon, named after the Conestoga River or Conestoga Township, since the manufacture of these wagons was the major industry in and around Lancaster. But during the 1770s, The Great Wagon Road was fit for small wagons only as far as Winchester, Virginia. Beyond that point, it could only be traveled by horseback or on foot.

The trail west northwest from Philadelphia to Lancaster, Pennsylvania was straight and wide and Alex made good progress, since the walking was very easy on the flat ground. He had plenty of powder and shot and was able to hunt just off the trail to satisfy his hunger. Alex had planned on trading the excess game he collected along the trail with other travelers for the items that he needed for the trip.

Late one evening after he had traveled past Lancaster, Alex killed a small deer, which would feed him for several days. Up and walking early the next day, he caught up with a family that was traveling in the same direction that he was going.

"Guten Abend, junger mon," said the young Prussian farmer when Alex overtook wagon that carried him and his family and was being pulled by a strong pair of oxen.

"Good day to you, sir," replied Alex.

"Vat is das, dat du carry on your back," asked the farmer.

"I killed a deer a ways back and have saved two of the rear haunches to take with me on the trail."

"Vould du vant to trade for ein of zem?"

"I would be happy to trade one of them with you. What grains or beans do you have?"

And so Alex was able to acquire some beans and peas to give some needed variety to his diet. The German family gave Alex a ride on their wagon's rear gate as far as York, Pennsylvania, where the family took the trail north toward Harrisburg. They had a number of relatives and friends who had settled in that area, and they had already acquired some farm land for themselves near there. The little Pennsylvania Deutsch family was well on its way to making a new life in America. Alex envied them.

"Auf Wiedersehen," said the farmer as he and his family parted company with Alex.

"Good bye, sir; I enjoyed meeting you and your family," replied Alex.

Beyond York, The Great Wagon Road was less well-traveled and the trail was quite a bit rougher. Alex was glad that he was on foot and not still riding in a wagon anymore, although a horse would have been much better and faster. But Alex was not in any particular hurry. He had nowhere to go, and he had nothing to do other than travel. He was fairly well-fed and healthy. "What else could I want?" Alex thought as he hiked along the trail.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

Robert had discarded the ideas of sailing on the cattle ferry or the packet boat at the main dock in Portpatrick as possible routes to Ireland. The presence of so many soldiers around the cattle pens and in the town was going to make it difficult for the two men to leave the country from Portpatrick. Robert and Hugh had ridden back to their camp where they both went to sleep after dismounting, pulling their saddles off their horses, and collapsing on their bed rolls. The two brothers slept what was left of the night until well into the following day, finally rousing as the sun was approaching its zenith. They ate a light meal that they cooked over a small fire.

"Weel, Robber, I guess we will have to come up with another way to get to America," said Hugh.

Robert just nodded while deep in thought. He knew that Hugh wasn't going to be much help coming up with a new plan. Hugh was talented alright, but his talents didn't lie in planning and strategy. Hugh was more of a tactician; he could improvise on the fly while riding a horse in battle or raiding a stronghold. But Hugh wasn't very creative from a long term planning point of view.

Robert reconsidered the possibility of sailing directly to America from Glasgow, Edinburgh, or one of the other ports in Scotland, but he knew that he would have more soldiers to deal with at all the major ports in Scotland. He thought about riding south to England and sailing out of an English port such as London or Portsmouth, but he and Hugh probably wouldn't get across the border before they were captured. Since all the obvious methods to leave Scotland were blocked, he would have to find something that was a little out of the ordinary. He needed to come up with a plan quickly because the longer they stayed in Scotland, the higher the probability that the military or the other authorities would apprehend them.

"Pack up your gear, Hugh," said Robert. "We need to get on the trail."

"Aye, Robber," said Hugh as he gathered up his belongings and kicked out the camp fire. Hugh knew that Robert had a new plan or at least the beginnings of a new plan. He also knew that Robert wasn't going to tell him what it was right then, so he didn't bother to ask. Hugh knew that Robert would tell him what he needed to know as soon as he needed to know it and not before. The brothers mounted their horses, and Robert led them back north toward The Old Military Road. When they finally arrived, Robert turned Hack northeast toward Stranraer.

The Old Military Road was built from near Portpatrick to Stranraer. Stranraer was a small fishing village situated on the south shore of Loch Ryan. Located on the north side of the isthmus that connects the Portpatrick peninsula to the mainland, Stranraer was probably not a place where the British military or the authorities would expect them to go. Loch Ryan was a long narrow north-south oriented sea loch that was noted for its calm waters even though its north side was open to the North Atlantic Ocean.

"We headed to Stranraer?" asked Hugh.

Robert just nodded and kicked Hack into a trot, and Hugh followed.

* * * *

Alex

"Where ye headed, lad?" asked the stranger, causing Alex to snap his head around to see who had spoken.

Alex had heard some noise behind him a few miles back on the trail, but hadn't got a good look at who or what it was. The trail had become so narrow and the foliage so dense that he had lost track of what was behind him until the stranger on horseback had unexpectedly overtaken him. Alex had been walking along lost in thought anyway, but it was uncharacteristic of him to allow himself to be taken unawares, as he had been by the stranger.

"West," was all that Alex could think to say.

The old, wizened-looking stranger was dressed all in buckskins and riding a dark brown mare while leading a pack horse. The old timer's life history was etched into the fine lines of his tanned face, around his eyes, nose, and mouth. The cold set to his stare indicated that he had suffered a great tragedy in his life, but his easy manner told that he had come to terms with it, whatever it was, and now it was behind him. From his buckskin moccasins to his raccoon fur cap, he reeked of homespun western colonial Americana.

When the old stranger reined up his horse where Alex was standing in the trail, he leaned back in the saddle and threw one leg across the other in an easy manner, such as men do who are accustomed to sitting in saddles for long periods. Alex realized that the stranger was not a threat, so he also relaxed.

The stranger's musket, which was covered in a brightly colored woolen sheath, was resting in the crook of his arm. The pack horse was carrying a bundle of goods that looked like it weighed one or two hundred pounds and was covered by a canvas tarp. The stranger was one of the so called "longhunters" who lived in the west and hunted for a living. Longhunters traded the hides and furs that they skinned for supplies and other trade goods back in the east.

As Alex gazed at the stranger's face, he realized that the man was not nearly as old as he had first thought. It was just that the Longhunter had lived outdoors most of his life, so the sun and wind had taken quite a toll on his face and hands.

"West, huh? Is that all ye got to say for yourself, lad?" said the Longhunter who was slightly perturbed at the short answer from Alex.

"Sorry. You kinda startled me. I wasn't paying much attention to who or what was coming up behind me on the trail."

"Weel, ye wouldn't be the first. You're a long way from nowhere lad," said the older Scot, softening a bit.

"I was a wanting to see a bit of the west before I died, so I thought I would head this way to see what I could see," said Alex.

"That's as good a reason as any. Why don't ye walk a spell with me? My name's Alexander Glendenning," said the older Scot, smiling as he dismounted and stuck out his hand to shake hands with Alex.

Alex grasped his hand and said, "Mine's Alexander Mackenzie."

"Weel, Alexander, seein' as how we share the same name, let's be off. We can make a few more miles before sundown. Anyone named Alexander can't be all bad. I need to walk a bit and let my horse rest anyway," said the Longhunter with an easy smile.

They had met just west of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania and were both obviously traveling in the same direction on The Great Wagon Road, so why not travel along together, thought Alex. Alex had liked the Longhunter as soon as he had spoken to him and was glad for his company on the trail.

They walked together for a few more miles, continuing along the trail southwest of Gettysburg. By sundown, they had entered the valley that led up to the slopes of the first Appalachian mountain range that divides the eastern coastal plains from the interior of the country. Just over the mountains was the border between Pennsylvania and Maryland. The trail followed a pass along the mountain valleys that crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains, the easternmost range of the Appalachians.

Alex had been on the trail for several days. He hadn't hunted since he had left the German family at York and now his food supply was getting low. He was getting hungry.

"Let's stop and camp for the night," said the Longhunter. "We can take on the brae and mountains tomorrow. Ye got anything to eat, lad?"

"Not much," said Alex looking in his rucksack for something to eat.

"Weel, I just had a bit of luck hunting recently and can treat us both to a pretty good spread tonight. I also have some supplies that I've just traded for in Philadelphia," said the Longhunter.

After the meal, which consisted of the meat that the Longhunter had in his game bag and some beans mixed with corn that he had fried in a little fat over the fire, they fell to talking, after cleaning up the remains of the meal and packing away their gear.

"How long have ye been in America, Alex?" asked the Longhunter.

"Only a few weeks," answered Alex.

"That's what I thought based on the cut of your clothes. Where do ye hail from, lad?"

"I come from Scotland by way of Ireland."

"Then you're what they're calling a Scots Irish, Alex."

"I guess so. Where do you come from, sir, if you don't mind my asking?" queried Alex.

"No need to call me sir, and ye probably guessed by my accent that I am from Scotland, too."

"I thought so."

"Where do you hail from in Scotland, laddie?"

"I'm from the lowlands just north of the border."

"Aye, I'm a highlander myself," said the Longhunter.

"How long have you been here?"

"I have been here since I was a lad. Famine drove me and my folks out of the highlands. We took a ship direct from Glasgow to Philadelphia. When I first arrived in America, I lived with my parents in Philadelphia. It wasn't as crowded back then, but after they died, I didn't want to live in town anymore, so I moved out west and started hunting and trading for a living. I married a woman from one of the Iroquois tribes, and we had a son, but they both died from a fever that some settlers brought over with them from the old country. Now, I hunt, trade, and pretty much keep to myself. I have a small cabin a ways west of Fort Cumberland. The next stop on the trail is Hagerstown and Williamsport is after that. There's a ferry at Williamsport that crosses the Potomac. Folks call it the Watkins Ferry, after the man who runs it. That's where I will turn west and follow the Potomac to Fort Cumberland. My cabin is only about ten miles further past Fort Cumberland."

"How far is it to Williamsport?" asked Alex.

"It's about ten miles through the mountains and probably another twenty miles to the ferry. We should be in there by late tomorrow if our luck holds. I'll tell you what, I'll call you Alex and you can call me Alexander since I'm a wee bit older than ye are. That way we can tell who's talking about who," replied the old Longhunter with a smile.

"That sounds good to me," said the smiling Alex.

Alex felt much better after meeting the Longhunter, and he smiled for the first time since he had arrived in America. He hadn't realized till then how sad and lonely he had actually been. It was as if he had been living in a trance, where things were happening around him that he was not a part of. Now he had bounced back to the real world and had started living again. He had finally found someone in America that he could talk to and perhaps be friends with.

* * * *

Samuel

"You're never gonna sell these muskets to the settlers or any of the state militias or to the British Army for that matter," said the trader after having examined several of the rifles.

Samuel Ruskin already knew the answer, but he asked the question anyway, "Why not?"

"Well, first of all these stocks are not made of walnut heartwood. It looks like some other kind of wood that's been stained to look like walnut. The barrels aren't nearly long enough. These muskets won't be as accurate as they would if they had longer barrels. The barrel forging welds are not overlapped enough, and you can see the weld lines along them. You shouldn't be able to see the weld line at all if the weld was done proper. Sometimes it takes three or four days to forge a proper barrel; these barrels look like rushed, shoddy work."

The trader cocked the flintlock of the musket he was holding and examined the firelock mechanism.

"These flintlock fittings are made of iron. They work better and last longer if they are made of brass because brass won't rust," continued the trader.

The trader paused and inspected a few more of the muskets. He suddenly looked up at Samuel Ruskin with a puzzled look on his face.

"Where'd you come by these guns?" asked the wily trader.

"Never mind where I got em. Do you think there might be any other markets for them other than the settlers or the militia?"

"I think I know what yer gettin at, and I don't want to have nothing to do with that," said the trader.

"Well, who might I talk to about that?"

"I said I don't know nothing about it," replied the trader.

"Come on now, you surely know someone I can talk to?"

"Selling muskets to Iroquois is against the law, and it is bad business and bad for other business," replied the trader.

Before it had arrived in Larne, the Ocean Monarch had taken on a cargo of crates in England to transport to America along with its passengers. The cargo was labeled, "Forged Iron Wagon Fittings," but the heavy crates were not wagon parts. Each of the long wooden boxes contained six muskets, and there were twenty of the crates. Samuel Ruskin was going to try his hand at selling guns in the colonies in spite of the British prohibitions against such sales. Bribing the customs officials in Philadelphia to allow the crates to be offloaded without inspection had been easy. He had commissioned the manufacture of the rifles in England with the intent to ship them to America and sell them at a profit, but it looked like it was going to be harder than he first thought. The people in America were more astute than he had counted on when he hatched his scheme in England.

* * * *

Alex

Alex and the Longhunter were up at first light and set off following The Great Wagon Road west toward the Watkins Ferry. Alex was walking, and the Longhunter was riding on the trail next to him. They were through the mountain passes before the sun was very high in the sky and across the Pennsylvania border into Maryland by noon. After a few more hours on the trail, they stopped in Hagerstown in mid-afternoon to get something to eat at the only inn in town. The Longhunter paid for the meals and told Alex that he could owe him for it.

From Hagerstown to Williamsport was only about ten miles, so they decided to push ahead toward the Potomac River ferry before dark. The trail began to narrow even more just outside Hagerstown, and it became a little rougher as it meandered down toward the river, through the dense forest. The sun was low in the sky, casting the long shadows of the tree trunks across the trail as the two men entered into a thicker portion of the forest about five miles outside Hagerstown.

Alex sensed that something was not right as soon as he stepped into the small creek that crossed the trail. The birds' serenade with its insect accompaniment had suddenly stopped as if all the critters were holding their breath, anxiously waiting for something to happen. The Longhunter sensed it too, for he had suddenly dropped out of his saddle, landing on his feet in the creek next to Alex. The Longhunter pushed Alex down into the water, diving down next to him so that they lying on their stomachs with only their heads sticking up above the water.

"Stay down, lad," he whispered as he lay next to Alex in the shallow creek.

"Let's work our way downstream a bit," continued the Longhunter in a whisper.

No sooner had the words come out of the Longhunter's mouth than an arrow came arcing out of the trees landing in the water right between the two men, a narrow miss.

"Follow me!" shouted the Longhunter as he rose up out of the water and ran downstream in the middle of the creek, splashing water as he went.

The ambush had now been fully triggered and arrows were flying toward the two men from what seemed like all directions. But there weren't as many arrows flying as there should have been in a full scale ambush. They had sensed the ambush early and triggered it before they were all the way into the ambush killing zone. The enemy warriors had not shown themselves yet, but Alex and the Longhunter knew they were in trouble and would be lucky to survive the next few minutes. Alex followed the Longhunter's lead. He had no idea how many opponents he faced. He and the Longhunter just knew that there were probably a lot of them.

One behind the other, the two men raced down the creek for several yards. The Longhunter spied a fallen tree half in and half out of the water and dived down next to it. Alex followed suit on the other side of the tree trunk, taking what cover the fallen tree could provide. They knew that they couldn't stay there long. Alex was breathing hard as the adrenalin coursed through his system.

"Let's make a run for the Watkins Ferry, lad."

"How far is it?" asked Alex.

"It's likely only about five miles from here," gasped the Longhunter. "How fast can ye run?"

Alex nodded agreement and replied, "Fast."

Rising up out of the water again, they ran up the creek bank and through the woods paralleling the trail toward Williamsport, with the Longhunter in the lead. The Longhunter thought that the ambush was more than likely set along both sides of The Great Wagon Road, so by paralleling the trail on one side of it, they would have to deal with only about half the number of warriors that they might encounter while running down the center of the trail.

Again, the arrows started flying toward them as soon as they started running, but the forest was dense and it was hard to hit a man running full speed through a thick forest with an arrow. There were too many trees to get in the way of the arrow flight. They had run for about twenty paces when the first warrior they had seen during the entire episode stood up to block their path. He looked like an Iroquois or possibly one of the Iroquoian-speaking Tuscarora who had migrated up from North Carolina to join the Iroquois. He laid his bow on the ground and crouched into a fighting position holding a knife.

As the Longhunter, who was carrying his rifle in both hands in front of him, approached the brave, he swung his rifle like a quarterstaff at the warrior just at the last second, bringing the rifle butt around in an arc. He connected with the brave's jaw before the warrior could dodge the blow. The warrior went down, out cold, and the two men leapt over his body and kept running as fast as they could, even with the unsure footing under the trees.

There were fewer and fewer arrows coming in their direction as they ran through the trees. So the Longhunter began to alter their course, angling on a diagonal path back toward the main trail.

When they finally merged back on to The Great Wagon Road, Alex's superior speed became evident almost immediately. It wasn't long before he had pulled ahead of the Longhunter by a significant margin.

"Save your wind, lad. We've got a ways to run!" shouted the Longhunter at Alex's back, thinking that Alex would be spent soon.

Alex heard the Longhunter and glanced back over his shoulder at him. He saw the large gap he had opened up ahead of the Longhunter, but he also saw a dozen or more of the warriors sprinting down the trail behind the Longhunter, and they were gaining on him. Alex thought he could probably outrun the pursuers, but he knew that the Longhunter couldn't. So he slackened his pace and dropped back to run alongside the Longhunter.

"Keep running toward the ferry, I'll catch up to you," panted Alex as he slowed his pace even further to fall behind the Longhunter.

When the Longhunter was several strides ahead of him, Alex suddenly stopped and turned around to face the warriors. The braves were so completely caught off guard by the unexpected maneuver that they immediately stopped running and were staring at Alex, wondering what he was doing. As they stood there looking at him in astonishment, Alex let out a Scottish war whoop. He dropped to one knee, brought his rifle up to his shoulder and fired a shot into the chest of the brave closest to him, dropping him to the ground in the center of the trail. The sound of the shot caused the other braves to instinctively drop to the ground and to take cover as well. Alex jumped up while the warriors were still down and raced back toward the Longhunter, who was almost a quarter mile ahead of him by that time.

The band was angered by the deception and recovered quickly. They were soon on their feet again, chasing after the two fleeing men. Before long, the warriors realized that even their fastest brave was no match for Alex's speed, but they kept up the pursuit. Alex was still well behind the Longhunter when they approached the town of Williamsport and the ferry, but the band of braves was further back, still trying to catch up.

The small community of Williamsport was first founded on the eastern bank of the Potomac River. At that time, there were very few houses and buildings on the east bank and the expansion of the community had not reached the west bank of the river at all. As Alex and the Longhunter approached the Potomac River, running as fast as they could, the ferry had just landed on the eastern bank and discharged a few passengers and livestock. The passengers and ferrymen had heard Alex's rifle shot and the war hoops of the Iroquois and had stopped what they were doing. When they saw Alex and the Longhunter running through the middle of the town toward the ferry while being chased by the Iroquois warriors, they hastily re-boarded the ferry, both people and livestock. The townspeople quickly ran into their houses and stores when they saw the Iroquois chasing the two men down the town's main street. Pulling down their shades, they locked their doors and hid, hoping the band would pass them by.

As soon as the passengers and livestock were hurriedly loaded, the ferrymen who had pulled the ferry across the river immediately cast off the gangplank and began pulling the ferry back across the river towards the west bank of the Potomac, without waiting for Alex and the Longhunter. The gap between the east bank and the ferry was beginning to widen just as Alex caught up with the Longhunter. Both of them ran side-by-side the last few paces to the river bank and, without missing a stride, they simultaneously jumped from the river bank toward to the departing ferry.

Alex's leap landed him with both of his feet on the deck of the ferry. The Longhunter's leap fell so short that he landed in the water. But he managed to grab the moving ferry deck with both hands after tossing his rifle onto the ferry. Alex dropped his rifle on the deck and lunged for the Longhunter's hands holding on to the edge of the ferry deck. Just as Alex reached for him, the Longhunter's hands slipped off the deck as his weight in the water dragged him away from the moving ferry, causing him to lose his grip. Alex's hands closed over the Longhunter's wrists just at the last second before the Longhunter's head went under the water. With both hands free, Alex pulled the Longhunter out of the water and up onto the deck of the ferry.

Gasping for air, they both lay on their backs on the ferry deck, side-by-side, totally winded from the long run and frantic leap.

The Iroquois band stopped running after them when they saw that the two men had made it onto the ferry. The braves knew that they couldn't swim the fast moving Potomac and catch Alex and the Longhunter on the ferry, so they gave up the chase. Turning around, they slowly headed back to where the Longhunter had left his horses and supplies.

"Ye run like a hare, lad," panted the Longhunter.

"So I've been told," replied Alex who was already regaining his breath.

"I owe ye a life, Alex," said the Longhunter.

"You lost your horses and supplies," said Alex, slightly embarrassed by the Longhunter's statement.

"They can be replaced, but ye can't replace a life."

"Who were those warriors anyway?"

"They're part of an Iroquois band that lives northwest of Fort Cumberland. It's unusual for them to roam this far to the east. Their leader is old Tinachock."

"Why did they attack us?" asked Alex rising up onto one elbow.

"I'm not certain, but it could be because old Tinachock holds me responsible for the death of his daughter."

"Why is that?"

"She was my wife; her name was Onatah. It means Earth Mother in their language," said the Longhunter with a sigh, drowning in memories of his younger days and a wife and son that he had barely known.

* * * *

Samuel

Samuel Ruskin and his two friends were seated at a table near the back of a small tavern close to the docks in Philadelphia. They had been sitting there for some time when a scruffy looking, buckskin-clad man got up from his chair and walked up to them.

"Word has it that yer looking fer someone to guide you west," said the stranger.

"Maybe I am and maybe not," replied Samuel.

"You're either looking or you're not. You can't have it both ways."

"Who told you I was looking for a guide?"

"People talk."

"What people?"

"Just people in general," replied the sly stranger.

"What makes you think you can guide me?"

"I didn't say I could; I asked if you were looking for a guide."

"You look like someone who might be a guide," said Samuel as he eyed the man's buckskin clothes and animal fur cap.

"I might be and I might not," said the stranger with an easy smile.

"Look, this conversation is getting us nowhere," said Samuel in an exasperated tone of voice. "What if I was looking for more than a guide? What if I was looking for someone who could help me trade with the Iroquois?"

"Trade what?"

"I have the kind of goods that the Iroquois want and need to make their lives easier."

"Exactly what kind of goods are ye talking about?"

"You ask a lot of questions, maybe too many," said Samuel dangerously.

"When it comes to trading with the Iroquois, it's best to know exactly what you're getting into, if you value yer life," said the stranger.

"Are you willing to guide me?" asked Samuel.

"Depends on what's in it for me," replied the stranger.

"A small piece of the pie," said Samuel, as he realized what kind of man he was dealing with.

"I'll take that and something up front for my trouble," said the stranger.

The stranger had been a scout for the Pennsylvania militia in his younger days, but he had been discharged for theft and now made his living by his wits as best as he could. He knew that Samuel Ruskin had been asking around town for a guide to lead him and his small party west to trade with the Iroquois. Based on the talk and who was passing it around, he guessed that it was either whiskey or guns. It didn't matter to him which one it was as long as there was a coin to be made. So he found out where Samuel Ruskin was located and soon spotted him in the tavern. He had been drinking ale and eying Samuel and his two friends for some time before he walked up to their table. It didn't take long in the conversation for him to realize what kind of man Samuel Ruskin was and that happened to be a man after his own heart.

"What can I call you?" asked Samuel.

"My name's Tom Jenkins," replied the scout as the two men shook hands and sat down to work out the details of their arrangement.

* * * *

Alex

"Ye are welcome to bunk with me at my cabin west of Fort Cumberland for a while till ye figure out what ye want to do or where ye want to go, lad," said the Longhunter.

As soon as it had become clear the Iroquois band had retreated, the ferrymen had returned the ferry to Williamsport, again unloading the people and animals, this time including Alex and the Longhunter. Alex and the Longhunter had stayed in Williamsport for a couple of weeks while the Longhunter resupplied. The Longhunter talked to some of his old acquaintances and acquired two horses. He spent most of his coins at the dry goods store in Williamsport run by an Irish couple, Sean Kelly and his wife, purchasing a few items he could not beg or borrow to tide him over until he could hunt and trade again. The Longhunter had lost practically everything he owned to the Iroquois except his rifle and the clothes on his back. Since he had just been back east to trade his furs, he had enough coins in the pouch at his belt to pay for the horses and basic items that he needed. But he would have to get to hunting soon to replenish his stash of food and furs. Alex had dropped his rucksack back at the ambush site with his few possessions in it, but he still had his musket, powder horn, boot knife, dirk, and few coins in his pocket. While in Williamsport, Alex earned a few extra coins doing odd jobs for local merchants, so he could make a few necessary purchases. The Longhunter had previously done business with the Kellys, who had no children, and they gave the Longhunter and Alex good prices on their purchases.

When they had acquired everything they could afford, Alex and the Longhunter once again set out on The Great Wagon Road, heading west out of Williamsport. They followed the main trail for about two miles and then left it to continue on westward along the banks of the Potomac. The Great Wagon Road turned south at this point on its way toward Winchester, Virginia, and away from the Longhunter's cabin. Following the route along the banks of the Potomac River, the two men passed deeper into the virgin forest. They stopped briefly at Fort Cumberland to resupply and gather any news to be had. The local militia, called the Maryland Rangers, was permanently stationed at Fort Cumberland. Most of the Rangers were out on a patrol, so there was no major news to be learned. But the Longhunter had many friends at the fort, and he and Alex were well-received and well-fed during their visit there.

They left the fort and rode further west toward the Longhunter's cabin, with the Longhunter riding a dappled grey horse and Alex riding a sleek roan pony that was still a bit untamed. Those had been the only two horses for sale in Williamsport, and the Longhunter had been lucky to find them. The roan pony had been found wandering nearby and one of the town's men had chased it down. Speculation around town was that it had belonged to an Iroquois who had met an untimely end. The pony was swift and reminded Alex of Hack. Alex wondered how Hack was doing back in Scotland. He also wondered how his bothers and father were getting along. He still missed them badly, but his new association with the Longhunter had helped fill the void and made him feel not quite so alone in America.

"Looks like some smoke just o'er the tree line there," said the Longhunter, pointing to the southwest, when the two men rode out from under the trees into a small clearing.

"Anything over in that direction?" asked Alex.

"There's an Irish settler family just put up a cabin in that direction a few months back," replied the Longhunter. "I was by their cabin a couple of times and traded with them a bit. They're related to that Irish couple that owns the dry goods store in Williamsport."

"Maybe we should take a look," stated Alex.
They kicked their horses to a trot and veered off on some game trails to the southwest to see about the smoke. After a few miles of easy riding, they spotted the burned out cabin.

"Looks like that same raiding party that we ran into at the ferry may have moved into this area or this might be the work of a different band. There's a whole bunch of Iroquois bands that live west of Fort Cumberland," said the Longhunter.

"Let's take a look and see if anybody survived the raid and the fire," said Alex as he grabbed his reins and was just about to kick his pony forward.

"Whoa, lad," said the Longhunter lifting up his rifle and pulling the sheath off of it. "That raiding party might still be around. Let's take it real cautious-like."

Alex pulled up his rifle also as the two men dismounted and slowly walked, leading their horses, up to the cabin. The fire was mostly out and the cabin was almost completely gutted, but still smoking. The smell of burned flesh led the two men to the bodies of the man and a woman who were about the same size. They were both burned beyond recognition inside the cabin.

"There's no sign of the Iroquois. I think they've gone," said the Longhunter.

"This is not what I was hoping to find," said Alex, looking at the dead bodies.

"What bothers me is what we didn't find, lad."

"What do you mean?"

"This couple had a daughter about your age," said the Longhunter with a frown.

* * * *

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Robber, where're all the soldiers?" asked Hugh.

Robert shook his head as the two brothers slowly rode past the castle in the town of Stranraer. The medieval tower house, called the Castle of St. John, was located in the center of the village. It had been a military garrison during the Killing Times in the 1680s. The Killing Times were a period in Scottish history when the English government attempted to suppress the Presbyterian religion in Scotland by stamping out sedition using field executions without a trial. But these days the castle was no longer manned with a full garrison. It now contained a few safe-keeping troops who provided only a token military presence in the town. Since Stranraer was not a ferry port for cattle or passengers, the troops were not on high alert and were probably not looking for the two brothers.

Robert and Hugh soon found their way to an empty table at an inn near the waterfront docks. One of the main sources of income for Stranraer was the fishing fleet. Each day the fishing boats left early in the morning to fish Loch Ryan. And they returned every evening to the docks where they were tied up for the night. The innkeeper was a tall, fat man wearing a short apron. He strolled up to their table with a dirty towel in his hand, wiping a tankard with it.

"What can I do for ye lads?" asked the innkeeper.

"We're famous highwaymen, and we be looking for all the soldiers so we can turn ourselves in," replied Hugh with a grin, having some fun with the innkeeper.

"The Sheriff of Wigtown and the Lord Advocate are currently holding court in St. John's. Will that do ye?" replied the innkeeper, wanting nothing to do with the levity.

"In that case, we'd better have a pint of ale each before we ride over there and surrender to the sheriff," said Hugh, still grinning at the innkeeper.

The fat innkeeper gave Hugh an exasperated sneer and walked off to fetch the pints.

"What do you think we ought to do?" asked Hugh, turning his head to look at Robert.

"I think we ought to finish off our ale and then take a walk down by the docks," said Robert.

Robert and Hugh drank their pints slowly, paid the innkeeper, and then strolled out of the inn down to the docks, trying not to attract too much attention. As they walked along the docks, Robert observed the men and boys who were working there, evaluating each of them and either discarding them or filing them in his mind for future inquiry. The fishing fleet had just arrived and tied up at the docks, so there were a lot of men and boys milling about unloading the day's catch of fish. Robert finally selected an old fisherman who was repairing nets and walked up to him.

"Guid Sir, I was wondering if I might be asking ye a question?" Robert queried the old fisherman.

"Course ye can laddie," replied the old man, stopping his work and turning toward Robert and Hugh.

"Me brither and I are looking to hire a fishing boat to go out on the loch and I was wondering if ye might be able to direct us to a likely one?"

"Aye, laddie, I might be able to help ye me self. Why do ye want to go out on the loch?" asked the old fisherman.

"We thought about trying our luck at fishing," said Robert meekly.

"I see," said the fisherman as he looked both ways to see if anyone was eavesdropping on the conversation.

As a group of dockworkers and fishermen walked by, the old man said, "I'm sorry lads, but I can't help ye," in a loud voice, and he stuck out his hand to shake hands with Robert. Then, as he shook hands with Robert, the old fisherman leaned toward him so that his mouth was close to Robert's ear.

"Meet me on the tip of the Scar at midnight tonight and bring two pounds, all in coins," whispered the old fisherman in Robert's ear.

Robert acted like he hadn't heard the whisper, but as he turned away, he glanced toward the old man and gave him a slight nod, indicating to him that he had heard and was giving his assent. He and Hugh continued walking along the dock as if their task was not yet complete. After they had walked along the docks for a while, they turned and strolled back toward the inn.

"What's the Scar, Robber?" asked Hugh as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone.

"I've heard of the Scar but have never seen it. It's a mile long sandbank near the middle of the western shore of Loch Ryan, where the shore turns to the southwest. The Scar juts out into the loch almost due south from that point. It extends well out into the loch. It looks like the barb on a fishhook. It's said that the Scar has caused many a shipwreck over the years. Most sailors wouldn't expect it to be where it is and to extend so far out into the loch. The loch itself is supposed to be about eight miles long, and I'd say the Scar connects to the shore about four or five miles north of Stranraer. We would have to ride north along the west shore of the loch and when we get to the Scar, turn back to ride almost due south along it back out to the tip," said Robert as they strolled toward the inn.

"Let's get back to the inn, get something to eat, stable our horses, and rent a room so we can get some sleep. It's likely going to be a long night," continued Robert as he led the way back into the inn.

* * * *

Alex

The Iroquois raiding party was fairly easy to follow since the trail was fresh and they were not trying to hide their tracks. They also had no idea that they were being followed. The Longhunter and Alex had given the pioneer couple as decent a burial as they could, in spite of the urgency of the situation. They paused and said a few words over the hastily dug grave before they mounted their horses and rode off at a trot. To save time, they had buried the couple side-by-side in one grave, thinking that the couple wouldn't mind and maybe even would have preferred it.

The trail that the Iroquois band left was leading the men west northwest toward an Iroquois village or longhouses as the Iroquois called them. They were on the trail for most of the afternoon when they spied fresh sign that the warriors were near.

Alex and the Longhunter almost rode directly into the Iroquois camp before they realized it was there, but the Longhunter stopped them just in time, and they back-tracked until they could work their way south to some low hills. The band was camped in a small ravine beside a creek near some scrubby trees. Alex and the Longhunter tied up their horses and hiked up the highest nearby hill so that they could look down into the camp with the sun at their backs. The hills were very rocky and rough. There were plenty of places to hide and plenty of cover that they could use to observe the camp. The main problem with the location they had selected was that they were situated almost three hundred yards from the Iroquois camp.

The Longhunter pulled out a small spy glass that he had acquired in Williamsport and looked into the camp. Alex's young eyes did not need a telescope to let him know what was going on in the camp. Some of the warriors were just setting up camp for the night and getting the horses picketed while another group was gathering downed wood to start a fire. The captured girl was sitting on the ground next to some scrubby trees, as far away from the braves as she could get. She wasn't tied up and appeared to be in good condition in spite of the death of her parents, her captivity, and the long ride that followed.

"We'll wait till nightfall and make our move after most of the braves are asleep," whispered the Longhunter to Alex, who was lying beside him just below the crest of the hill, where they had positioned themselves so that they would not be silhouetted against the skyline.

"Sounds good to me," whispered Alex as he pulled up his rifle, Slayer, and sighted in on one of the warriors down his long barrel.

"That'd be a pretty fair shot from up here. It's about two hundred and fifty yards," whispered the Longhunter. He knew that the normal accuracy of a smooth bore musket was only about a hundred yards or maybe a little more. He had no idea that Alex's range was well beyond that because of the modifications that he had made to his rifle barrel and sights.

"Yep," whispered Alex as he zeroed in on the brave, looking down the rifle sights.

As the sun dropped below the hilly skyline, the camp became cloaked in the shadow of the hills located just to the west of the camp. Alex and the Longhunter were lying just below the ridge, so they were in shadows, as well as being well-concealed behind some rocks and brush. As the light was fading, two of the young Iroquois braves walked over to where the girl was sitting and began to paw at her. The girl fought back bravely, but Alex and the Longhunter knew what the outcome of this battle was going to be, and they didn't like the prospect of watching what was unfolding before their eyes.

"Change of plans," whispered Alex as he pulled his musket flintlock back to cock the weapon and sighted his barrel toward the unfolding drama being played out below him. Alex didn't hesitate to enter into the fray to try to save the girl, or into any fight for that matter. If he thought he was right, he never looked back, regardless of the odds. He looked at the tree tops nearby to gauge the strength and direction of the wind. Then he calculated the effects of gravity on the musket ball since he was shooting downward from near the crest of the hill.

One of the Iroquois was just standing by watching while the other one bent down and started tearing open the buttons on the back of the girl's dress. The girl fought back as well as she could, but she was no match for the greater strength of the Iroquois. As soon as the brave had partially undressed her, he stood up next to his friend and began to unfasten the laces on his buckskin pants. When the big Iroquois turned to say something to his friend, Alex waited for just the right moment in his breathing, aimed Slayer just above and slightly to the left of the head of the Iroquois nearest to him to account for the wind, and then he squeezed the trigger. In less than a second, both Iroquois fell to the ground dead as the single musket ball passed through the neck of the brave nearest to Alex and then traveled onward through the chest of the other warrior. Alex had killed two warriors with one musket ball, a shot for the record books. If luck had not been on his side and the two Iroquois had not lined up so perfectly for him, he would never have had the chance to make a shot like that.

The Longhunter had watched the shot through his small telescope and chuckled softly. Then he reached over to pat Alex on the shoulder to congratulate him on the shot, but Alex was already gone.

As the two Iroquois fell to the ground, the sound of the gun discharge suddenly echoed back and forth between the hills across the ravine. It was difficult for the braves to tell exactly which direction the shot had come from in the twilight, but Alex was already on the move. As soon as he had fired the shot, he jumped up and ran back in a crouch over the crest of the hill to reload Slayer. The girl had gotten up, gathered up as much of her tattered clothing as she could, and run toward the low hills, away from the warriors. The Iroquois had all dived to the ground for cover as soon as they heard the shot. They appeared to be still confused about where the shot had come from.

Alex worked his way back around in the direction that the girl was running and took up another firing position about a hundred yards away from where the Longhunter was lying. The Iroquois band was just beginning to unravel the situation and figure out where the shot had come from. As soon as the first Iroquois stood up and started moving in the direction the girl had fled so that he could recover her, Alex fired again and dropped him to the ground with a musket ball through his chest. This shot had come from a slightly different direction and the echo of its discharge further confused the warriors.

The Longhunter got the idea about what Alex was doing and pulled up his musket, aiming it toward the Iroquois. He knew that he wasn't even in the same league as Alex in marksmanship or range, but his shots could keep the braves down and make them think they were facing a greater number enemies.

Alex dropped back over the rise to reload Slayer and move further along the ridge toward the young woman.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

It was an hour before midnight, when a ruckus in the inn downstairs instantly brought Robert fully awake.

"Get up Hugh and grab your gear," said Robert as he shook Hugh awake.

The disturbance downstairs was getting louder and coming up the inn's stairs toward the sleeping rooms. Robert pushed open the single window of their room and climbed out onto the window sill. It was full dark outside, but the half moon lit up the landscape and buildings below. Their room was located at the back of the inn, and the room's window opened onto a narrow lane behind the inn rather than onto the small inner courtyard like most of the other rooms in the inn. Robert jumped down from the sill onto the roof of a storage shed that had been built behind the inn, and Hugh soon followed suit after closing the window. No sooner had they jumped when a soldier kicked open the door to their room.

"Where are they?" asked the Sheriff of Wigtown after he had surveyed the room and found the men missing.

He turned to the fat innkeeper and gave him a questioning look.

"They must be in a different room. Search the whole inn," shouted the innkeeper to the soldiers who had kicked in the door following orders from the sheriff.

Robert and Hugh climbed down off the storage shed's roof and entered the inn's stable through its back door. It took only a few moments to saddle up their horses and sling their bags behind their saddles. Rather than ride out through the courtyard and alert their pursuers, they walked their horses out the back door of the stable and into the alley behind the inn, where they mounted up and rode silently away.

Robert led the way on Hack as they turned west out of Stranraer on the military road back toward Portpatrick. In the darkness, he almost missed the trail that forked to the right, which was the north-south trail that ran along the west bank of Loch Ryan. But he saw it just in time and reined Hack to the right. Robert estimated that it was not yet midnight, so he hoped that the old fisherman might be a little early.

* * * *

Alex

Alex and the Longhunter were alternating taking shots at the warriors every minute or so and Alex was moving to a new position after each shot he fired. The alternating shots, coming from different directions, were keeping the Iroquois down under cover and completely confused as Alex moved closer and closer to the girl with each succeeding leap. Alex's shots were doing much more damage than the Longhunter's shots, but the Longhunter was picking big easy targets and had killed two of the Iroquois' ponies, which to the tribe were almost as valuable as a warrior.

Alex finally reached a position near the girl. He moved out away from the hills so that she could see him. She didn't see him at first, but after he whistled at her, she finally saw him. He motioned for her to come over to him, so she changed directions and ran over to where Alex was waiting. She stood there looking at him while holding what was left of her torn dress over her chest.

The girl was nearly unclothed from the waist up, so Alex pulled off his shirt and handed it to her while trying to keep his eyes averted. She turned away from him and slipped his shirt over her head. Then she tied her skirts up with a piece of cloth that she tore off the bottom of her dress so that she could run without tripping or mount a horse without worrying about her skirts. The girl was a lot smaller than Alex had expected, and she looked to Alex like she was a bit younger than the Longhunter had estimated. Alex also thought that she was easily one of the prettiest girls that he had ever seen. She evidently was a plucky fighter, enduring the Iroquois and still having the presence of mind to escape when she got the chance.

"Are you okay?" asked Alex.

The girl nodded her head in a manner that reminded Alex of his brother Robert.

"Thanks for the shirt, and thanks for saving me," replied the girl.

"You put up a good fight, but they were too big, and there were too many of them. Let's get out of here," replied Alex.

Together they ran back below the hills to join the Longhunter, while stopping occasionally for Alex to take a shot at the band, just to keep them down. It took them a short while to work their way back to the Longhunter's perch. The darkness was deepening as the evening wore on.

When they arrived back at the Longhunter's location, they were both out of breath. The Longhunter nodded to the girl and noticed that she was wearing Alex's shirt. He thought that Alex was pretty chivalrous to give the girl his shirt. He didn't know if he would have thought of that or not if he had rescued the girl.

"Are you okay now?" the Longhunter asked the girl.

"I'm fine, Mr. Glendenning. What are we going to do now?"

"We can't keep this up long. They'll soon figure a way to come at us, and there's too many of them and not enough of us," said the Longhunter.

"Maybe we should make a run for it," said Alex.

"That was my thought exactly. Ye two ride the grey, she can carry ye both and I'll ride the pony," replied the Longhunter.

Alex, the girl, and the Longhunter ran beside the horses for a distance until they were well out of earshot of the warrior band. Then they mounted the horses and rode off at a gallop with the Longhunter taking the lead, followed by Alex with the girl sitting behind him. Alex was following the Longhunter as closely as he could in the gathering darkness.

It didn't take the Iroquois long to determine that no more shots were being fired at them when they moved around, so they mounted up and rode a circuit around the ravine ridge in order to determine how many had attacked them and which way they had gone. They soon found the trail and determined that it was only two horses, so they took off after them into the night, in hot pursuit.

As Alex let the grey run, the girl wrapped her arms around his waist with her hands locked tightly together at his stomach, holding on for dear life as they rode on the moonlit trail. Alex was keenly aware of her body pressed firmly against his back. The Longhunter was riding the pony well ahead, and Alex was pressing the grey to follow as closely as he dared.

Just when it looked like they would get away with taking the girl from the warriors and escaping, the grey jumped a shallow ditch. In the dark, her front hooves landed in a hole and both of her front fetlocks cracked like twin shots. The horse stumbled forward, throwing Alex and the girl over its head to the ground. Alex and the girl rolled with the fall and got right up, but the grey did not. In addition to her fetlocks, the hard fall had also broken the horse's neck, and she lay dead on her side in the middle of the trail.

The Longhunter stopped the pony as soon as he realized no one was following him. He quickly rode back to where the girl and Alex were standing in the trail looking at the grey horse. As soon as he arrived at the disaster, he bolted out of his saddle to the ground.

"Here, ye two take the pony. I will hold them off so that ye can get away," said the Longhunter holding the reins out to Alex.

"Not on your life," replied Alex. "I'm not leaving you here to face the Iroquois alone. The girl can take the pony; you and I can hold them off while she gets away."

Alex didn't wait for a reply from the Longhunter. He picked up the girl and lifted her into the saddle, handed her the reins, and slapped the pony on its flank, sending it off to the east into the darkness, away from the Iroquois.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"We may hae gotten away without being followed," said Hugh, as he and Robert rode along the trail north on the west bank of Loch Ryan.

Robert nodded, but then added, "Don't count on it."

They heard the horses coming after them before they saw them; it was the sheriff and a dozen troops. The fat innkeeper had sold them out and probably had collected a bounty on them or at least had been promised one upon their capture. Hugh hoped he would have a chance to get even with the fat innkeeper who had been wiping the tankard with the dirty towel some day in the near future.

The sheriff and the troops were riding fast and had nearly caught up with them after about two miles on the trail north along the western shore of the loch. Robert and Hugh picked up the pace to stay just ahead of their pursuers. But they knew that there was no way they could find the old fisherman, get into the boat, and cast off before the troops would be on them. That was when they would be captured unless they came up with something else.

"Halt and surrender," shouted the sheriff at the two fleeing brothers, who ignored the warning.

As Robert rode along the shore trail, he kept glancing out into the loch. In a few minutes he saw what he was looking for. It was a fishing boat's lamp hanging from a mast that looked to be about two or three hundred yards offshore. Without looking at Hugh, he kicked Hack in the flanks to pick up the pace, in order to put some more distance between them and their pursuers. Hugh kept pace with Robert and soon they had opened up a gap of about a hundred yards ahead of the sheriff and the soldiers.

"Hugh, follow me," shouted Robert as he pulled Hack's reins to the right when he saw an opening in the brush that grew alongside the trail.

The horses took them down the shore toward the beach, with Hugh following closely behind Robert. Instead of stopping at the water, Robert rode Hack straight out into the loch, slipped out of his saddle and started swimming behind his horse toward the boat's lamp while holding onto Hack's tail. Hugh followed Robert, swimming behind him without asking any questions.

The sheriff and the troops followed behind them, right down to the water's edge.

"They're daft," shouted the sheriff who had no idea what the two men were doing. Since it was dark, no one could see the Scar off in the distance and the sheriff didn't realize that it jutted that far south out into the loch. He was from Wigtown and not all that familiar with Stranraer and the surrounding area. The sheriff also saw the boat lamp but thought that it was most likely a fisherman headed out to get an early start on the day's catch.

"The loch is three miles wide here. There's no way they can swim all the way across it. Let's ride up to where the Scar meets the shore and make our way down it from there to see if we can tell what they're up to," said the sheriff thinking that Robert and Hugh would soon realize their mistake and swim toward the nearest shore. The sheriff left a few of the troops on the shore where Robert and Hugh had entered the water, just in case they doubled back. He led the rest of the troops back up the bank to the trail and then rode north toward the well-known fork where the Scar met the shore line.

Robert and Hugh swam their horses up to the Scar and waded out of the water onto the sandbank. Grabbing their saddle bags off their horses and running over to the boat where it was resting on the Scar, they threw their bags over the gunwale where the old fisherman was sitting at the tiller.

"Cast us off, lads. Ye wanted to do some fishing, didn't ye?" chuckled the old fisherman as he put out the boat's lamp and cast the entire area into darkness.

Robert turned back to Hack and patted him on the neck.

"You've been a good horse, Hack. I hope you find a good master. I wish we could take you with us to give you back to Alex, but there's no room for you in the fishing boat," said Robert.

Robert and Hugh worked together to push the fishing boat out into the water and climbed in. Robert reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a pouch that contained two pounds in coins and handed it over to the fisherman. The old fisherman nodded his thanks to Robert and then raised the sail after he tucked the money bag into his shirt.

"Thank ye kindly, laddie. I know who ye and yer brother are, and I'm glad to be able to help ye," said the man with a wink as he steered the boat toward the center of loch Ryan, still sailing north.

The sheriff and the troops eventually came to the point where the Scar met the shore line, where they all rode out on the sandbank and then turned south to ride out to the end of the Scar. By the time they got to where the boat had been tied up on the Scar, all they found was Hack and Hugh's horse standing there. The men were gone, and all the sheriff could do was scratch his head and wonder what happened to them. After some consideration, he concluded that they had probably drowned in the loch. His men rounded up the two horses, and they rode back up the Scar toward the shore.

"Robber, where exactly are we headed?" asked Hugh.

"North around Fairland Point and then west to Ireland," answered the old fisherman for Robert.

Robert, of course, just nodded.

The fisherman had a fair wind and was as good as his word as he landed them on a deserted beach just north of Larne. He asked Robert and Hugh to shove his boat off into the water, and he waved goodbye to them. Then he set the sail back toward Scotland and Stranraer.

Robert and Hugh were exhausted from their activities of the night, so they pulled their kits out of their saddle bags, found a secluded spot on the beach, and dropped into their bedrolls.

"Welcome to Ireland," said Hugh as he collapsed into his blankets.

Robert nodded and they both fell asleep to the sounds of the surf coming in to the shore from the Sheuch.

* * * *

Alex

"Let's see what cover we can find, lad," said the Longhunter.

Alex and the Longhunter knew that their situation was nearly hopeless. The odds were heavily against them, and there was nowhere to run. Even if there had been a safe haven, the Iroquois had horses, and they didn't. Alex's foot speed was not going to help him now; he couldn't outrun a horse. Alex and the Longhunter were probably dead men, and they knew it, so Alex decided that he would sell his life dearly.

The Iroquois couldn't miss the dead horse lying in the middle of the trail. The braves were sure to stop and investigate. That would at least give the girl a better than even chance of getting away. She looked like she knew how to handle a horse. She had ridden off holding the reins in both hands and leaning over the horse's neck like she had run a horse many times before. So if she didn't run into anything, she was probably on her way to freedom.

There wasn't a lot of cover to be found around the dead horse, so Alex and the Longhunter decided to head off in the same direction that the girl had taken until they found something that looked promising. They were jogging along the trail when they spied a large stream that crossed the trail. It was fully dark by then and visibility was poor under the canopy of the trees.

"Alex, let's follow this stream a ways and see what we can find. If we can dodge the band tonight, maybe tomorrow morning something will happen to give us a chance to escape," said the Longhunter.

They followed the stream bank until they found a large, flat and wide area where the water flow had undercut the stream bank as it made a broad turn in its course. The two men crawled down the bank and under the cut, where they found a pile of brush and a few dead logs that had accumulated there.

"Here lad, let's hide under here and cover up with mud from the stream. We might be able to wedge ourselves behind those dead logs for the night. The moon is only half full tonight. Since the clouds have blocked it for now, the braves would have to step on us to find us in the dark. Then we'll see what tomorrow brings," said the Longhunter.

First they backtracked and erased all of their footprints that they could find in the soft bank and then waded in the water back down the stream to the undercut bank with logs jammed up against it. Alex and the Longhunter took turns pasting mud all over each other while they waited for the Iroquois to approach. As soon as they were completely covered with mud, they lay down on their backs beside the logs and covered themselves up with leaves and twigs so that they looked like a pile of brush that had blown up between the logs and the bank. They thought that this might work to help them survive through the night, but they figured that the Iroquois would most likely unravel their ploy with the rising sun.

It was only a few minutes until they saw the approach of the first Iroquois scout. He was padding along the bank while scanning both sides of the creek. When he came to the brush and log pile, he jumped down off the bank and hopped up on top of the log beside which Alex and the Longhunter were lying. He stood on the log for a while to have a look around at the area. Alex and the Longhunter dared not take a breath. Alex prayed that the Iroquois wouldn't look down or investigate the pile of leaves too closely as he eyed the Iroquois from beneath the leaves. The scout was within an arm's length from him as he stood on top of the log.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

Robert and Hugh woke up in the late morning to the sound of a dog barking. Robert turned over in his bedroll and spied a man standing over Hugh. Hugh was a heavy sleeper; the barking dog had no effect on him. Finally, Hugh was roused by the stranger kicking him in the back.

"Can't a lad get any descent sleep around here?" asked Hugh, rolling over in his bedroll to eye the man standing over him while brushing the sand out of his hair.

Robert didn't say anything.

"You two lads look like ye've just landed on the Irish shore," said the stranger.

"Aye, we might have. Is that where we are?" asked the grinning Hugh.

"Do you mean that you don't know where you are, lad?" asked the smiling stranger.

"Aye, we were fishing in Loch Ryan when our boat sprung a leak and sunk. The next thing we knew, we washed up on this beach last night," said Hugh.

"A likely story, lad, but it won't fly with me," said the stranger laughing softly under his breath.

"What business is it of yours anyway?" asked Hugh.

"I'm the Sheriff of Larne and those are my men standing off there on the coast road holding those mean looking pistols," said the sheriff, pointing to the group of men who had dismounted and were standing by the road near their horses.

"One of my duties as Sheriff of Larne is to insure that new arrivals to Ireland are proper persons of genteel appearance or at least have proper documentation and references. My charge is to reject and or correct any arrivals of low and mean appearance and you two lads look mighty low and mean to me. That's one strike against you. Do you two have any documentation or references?" asked the sheriff.

"Here be my references," said Hugh rolling to his feet into a fighters crouch while pulling his knife from his boot.

"Nae, Hugh," said Robert coming to his feet and walking over to stand between the sheriff and Hugh.

"We'll come along peacefully, Sheriff" said Robert with his back turned to Hugh.

That broke the tension of the situation and Hugh replaced his boot knife. As he reached down to grab his belongings, the sheriff stopped him by placing his boot on Hugh's saddle bag.

"You two lads won't be needing anything in those saddle bags for a long time," said the sheriff with a wicked smile.

The sheriff instructed his men to bring Robert and Hugh into Larne for further questioning. It was only about a ten mile walk from the beach into Larne, south along the coast road. After the questions were completed, Robert and Hugh found themselves locked up in the Larne gaol and robbed of all their money and possessions by the Sheriff of Larne. That left them with no money to buy their passage to America.

"Weel now Robber, look at the fasherie ye've got us into now," said Hugh who was lying on his back on one of the cots in the cell.

Robert didn't say anything as he gazed out the cell window toward the Larne harbor.

* * * *

Alex

Dawn was just breaking over the eastern horizon in muted rosy shades as the sky lightened. The morning sun soon melted the fluffy clouds, and the Iroquois started stirring from their night's sleep. Alex and the Longhunter had spent a cold, sleepless night lying on the creek bank beside the log while covered up with mud and leaves.

The Iroquois scout that had paused on top of the log that they were hiding next to had not stayed long. He had moved on to cover more of the stream as soon as he determined that he could not locate the two men in that area. The Iroquois band had decided to camp for the night on the flat area near the stream bank, just above where the two men lay. From snippets of overheard conversation, the Longhunter had determined that the warriors thought that those who attacked them were further downstream and had run to ground for the night. The braves thought that they would rather pursue the ones on foot who fired muskets at them and killed some of their warriors than chase one or more of them on horseback that got away. They surmised that it was better not to divide their force and go after the horse, which had a head start and was obviously running fast. Riding fast at night was risky, as evidenced by the dead horse in the trail, but the person riding the horse obviously had nothing to lose. The warriors didn't want to take the risk in order to chase the person on the horse at night.

When it was light enough to see, the Iroquois mounted their horses and rode further down the stream. They left warriors behind to guard the camp site and to block any attempt by their quarry to double back toward the main trail. Alex and the Longhunter knew that they must make their move as soon as the warriors were out of earshot. The Iroquois would surely find their hiding place when they couldn't find any sign of the two men further downstream and came back to explore the stream near the camp site more closely.

As soon as the guards settled, Alex and the Longhunter crawled under the cut bank. Using signs and whispers, the Longhunter told Alex how they would circle around and kill the guards before they ran back toward the main trail. They crawled along the creek to a wash where they could get up the bank without being seen and then worked their way around behind the guards. After a short period of waiting and listening, the Longhunter and Alex determined that there were probably only two guards. Using signs and gestures, the Longhunter directed Alex to creep up behind one of the guards while he took care of the other one. At a signal from the Longhunter, Alex lunged with his knife and stuck his assigned guard in the back. Simultaneously, the Longhunter was close enough to reach around with his knife and slit the throat of the other guard.

The guard that Alex killed gave a grunt before he dropped to the ground, and Alex finished him off by slitting his throat. That grunt from the dying guard alerted a third Iroquois guard that Alex and the Longhunter had not seen or heard or accounted for. The third guard immediately took off running toward the main group of Iroquois to alert them of the location of their quarry.

Alex and the Longhunter saw the guard run toward their pursuers but couldn't do anything to stop him. Neither man had had an opportunity to reload his rifle after the previous night's skirmish. So they both turned and ran in the opposite direction, back toward the main trail. When they got to the main trail, they turned again in the direction that the girl had ridden and took off at a fast ground-eating trot to save their strength. They knew that the Iroquois were on horseback, and it wouldn't be long before they were overtaken. So they wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the warriors as possible. Their hope was to find some kind of defensible position where they would have a fighting chance before the braves got to them.

It wasn't long before they heard horses coming. Not long after that, they heard the war cries of the warriors as the two men came into sight. A good defensible position had not been located, so Alex and the Longhunter ran off the trail and into the trees, where the band of warriors could not just ride them down and overwhelm them. The braves followed the two men more slowly, as their horses picked their way around the trees. Very quickly, the pursuers moved up on both sides and behind the men, herding them into a small clearing just off the main trail where the braves on horseback encircled them. The Iroquois tightened the circle around Alex and the Longhunter until they were about forty paces from the two men.

Alex and the Longhunter stood back-to-back in the middle of the clearing preparing for the final fight of their lives, holding only dirks and knives because their rifles were still unloaded. There had been no opportunity during the entire chase for them to reload. The fighting was now either going to be close combat or it was going to be their execution using bows and arrows. The Iroquois sat there for several heartbeats on their horses, eyeing the two men in the center of the circle while the tension mounted.

Slowly one of the warriors notched an arrow into his bow string and aimed it at Alex. Alex was turned away from that brave and didn't see the danger he was in. The Longhunter spied the peril at the last moment, just as he turned his head to look in that direction. He knew that he didn't have time to warn Alex. Just as the Iroquois let the arrow fly, the Longhunter leaped between Alex and the arrow. The speeding arrow pierced the Longhunter's shoulder, and he fell to the ground. Alex turned just as the Longhunter fell, and rage pumped more adrenaline into his body. His face turned bright red from his anger. Alex stepped over the Longhunter and flipped his knife around so that he was holding it by the blade. He quickly drew it back and threw it at the Iroquois whose arrow had downed the Longhunter. The knife throw was a good one, and the blade buried itself in the chest of the Iroquois who had shot the arrow. The warrior fell off his horse and lay dead beside it with the knife sticking in his chest.

Alex had no way of knowing that the Iroquois' plan had been to kill Alex immediately and then capture the Longhunter to take him to their longhouses. The Longhunter faced a long and painful death back at the Iroquois longhouses, where all the members of the band could witness and participate in his death.

The Iroquois were even more angered by Alex's killing of their warrior, and they began to slowly ride their horses toward the two men in the clearing. Alex stepped over the Longhunter and stood astride him, turning in all directions as the band rode toward them in a tightening circle.

"Alex, I'm done for. See if you can break free of the circle and make a run for it," said the Longhunter.

"I'm not leaving you here alone."

"It's alright lad, I am killed anyway, either here or back at the Iroquois village," said the Longhunter.

Alex didn't move. The Iroquois stopped their horses about twenty paces from the two men; simultaneously they all strung their bows and notched war arrows for Alex's execution. There was no way out this time, because their war arrows couldn't miss Alex.

As the braves were ready to draw back and release arrows, the sound of men on horseback caused everyone to look back toward the main trail. A group of armed, mounted men came charging into the clearing, yelling and firing pistols and rifles at the Iroquois. The Iroquois forgot about killing Alex and the Longhunter and turned their horses to flee back into the trees.

The mounted men did not pursue the Iroquois after they ran them off, but turned back and dismounted near the Longhunter and Alex. The leader of the men grabbed his saddle bag off of his horse and walked over to where the Longhunter was lying on the ground. He reached down and broke off the tip of the arrow that was sticking out the back of the Longhunter's shoulder and then pulled the broken remainder of the arrow, minus the arrowhead, back out the way it went in.

"This is going to hurt a bit," he said as he cleaned and dressed the wound.

"Do your worst," said the Longhunter.

"You'll be okay, Alexander," said the man after he had bandaged the wound with a clean dressing.

"Thank you, Ellison," replied the Longhunter.

"Hello, lad," said the man called Ellison as he stood up and held out his hand to shake hands with Alex.

Alex was dumbfounded and couldn't say a word. He wondered how the men had found them, who they were, and where they had come from.

"Hello, sir," was all Alex was finally able to say, shaking hands with the man named Ellison.

Things became a little clearer for Alex when he saw the girl ride the pony into the clearing. She had ridden as fast as she could during the night all the way back to Fort Cumberland, where she had awakened the Maryland Rangers, a group of militiamen that were paid by the colonial Maryland government to protect the settlers from the Iroquois. After the girl told them her story, the Rangers had mounted their horses during the night and followed the girl back toward where she had left the two men. They had heard the sounds of horses and warriors in the clearing just off the trail. The Rangers had told the girl to wait by the trail while they turned their horses and went into the trees to see what was going on.

Alex walked over to the girl and helped her dismount the pony.

"Thanks for saving my life," said Alex.

"Thank you for saving mine," said the girl.

"I'm Alex Mackenzie. It's nice to meet you."

"Hello Alex, I'm Martha Kelly. It's nice to finally meet you, too. I'll give you your shirt back as soon as I can."

"Thanks; I appreciate it. I'm not in any hurry for it," said the shirtless Alex.

The Longhunter got up after having buttoned his arm into his shirt to hold it in place and walked over to join the couple.

"Lass, I'm sorry about your folks. Alex and I gave them as proper a burial as we could with the time we had available."

"Thank you, Mr. Glendenning. I'd like to go back to the cabin and pay my proper respects to them if I could. I'd also like to gather up any of my possessions that might have survived the fire."

Captain Ellison McCoy was the head of the Fort Cumberland detachment of the Maryland Rangers. He put his medical supply kit back into his saddle bags and walked over to the group to join the conversation.

"Lad, are you sure that you are okay?" asked Ellison.

"I'm fine, sir; I'm just happy you and your men showed up when you did. You saved my life and Alexander's too," said Alex.

"That's our job, lad. We go where we're needed and do what needs to be done in order to keep the frontier safe for people like you, Alexander and Martha here," said Ellison.

"Sounds like good, honorable work," said Alex.

"If yer looking for a job, we are in need of a Ranger right now, and you seem to have plenty of grit," said Ellison.

"I'll take the job, sir. But first, I need to see Martha settled and get my shirt back," said the bare-chested Alex with a grin as he raked his long blond hair out of his eyes with his left hand.

* * * *

Samuel

"Hey Tom, does it get any rougher than this?" yelled Samuel at Tom Jenkins' back.

Tom Jenkins, the nefarious ex-militia scout, led the way for the small party of men on horseback and the wagon carrying the rifles. They had traveled west, first following along The Great Wagon Road from Philadelphia, for several days, and later, turning off it onto a game trail. Samuel was driving the wagon, sitting on the driver's bench. His two friends, who had sailed with him from England, were riding horses along both sides of the wagon in places where the trail was wide enough to allow them to ride beside the wagon or behind the wagon if it wasn't. They had passed through Lancaster, Pennsylvania early that morning and were well on their way to the meeting that Tom had arranged for them with an Iroquois band.

The game trail followed a narrow path through the trees, and the going was getting pretty rough. The wagon could barely pass through many of the tighter spots and their progress had been slowed to a crawl.

"It opens up just ahead," shouted Tom in reply, turning his head to look back at Samuel Ruskin and his two friends.

It did in fact open up just a few miles ahead, and when it did, Tom fell back to ride alongside the wagon in order to speak with Samuel while he rode.

"We'll follow this trail for a while and then turn off south at the next fork," said Tom.

Samuel just nodded and glanced briefly at Tom before he turned his head back to watch the trail ahead. Tom had earlier cocked his rifle flintlock and grasped his rifle stock while it was lying across his saddle between his lap and the saddle horn. An experienced scout and woodsman like Tom was always ready for anything when traveling in the wilderness. What Samuel didn't know was that Tom had also primed his musket pan while he was leading the party. As soon as Samuel turned his head back to the trail, Tom pointed his rifle toward Samuel and pulled the trigger. Tom's other hand was still holding his reins and controlling his horse.

Just as Tom fired the shot at Samuel, the right front wagon wheel had hit a downed tree limb that was about the size of a man's leg and was lying at the edge of the trail, which caused the wagon to pause slightly before it could travel up and over the limb. This sudden halt in the wagon's forward progress saved Samuel's life. Instead of striking him squarely in the side where Tom aimed it, the musket ball grazed Samuel's chest, knocking him back onto the gun cases in the wagon bed. Tom then pulled a pistol from his belt and fired point blank into the back of one of Samuel's friends who was riding directly in front of him. Samuel's friend was instantly dead and fell forward off his horse beside the trail. The sound of the two shots startled everyone, including the horses. As soon as everyone recovered, a second musket shot fired from the trees on the left side of the trail struck Samuel's other friend in the left temple, knocking him off his horse. He also lay dead beside the trail.

Samuel knew immediately that he had been betrayed by Tom Jenkins, and the ambush he had ridden into was Tom's plan. He also knew that there was probably no Iroquois village anywhere in the area, and there was no one else near who could help him. The scratch across his chest burned, but he didn't think it was too serious an injury.

Tom jumped out of his saddle stirrups and onto the vacated wagon driver's bench, pulling his hunting knife out of the sheath tied to his belt, intending to finish the job on Samuel Ruskin. But Samuel had already crawled on all fours toward the rear of the wagon. When Tom jumped from the wagon bench down onto the gun cases in the bed of wagon to lunge at Samuel with his knife, Samuel bolted over the wagon's rear gate. After grabbing the reins of his friend's horse, now standing behind the wagon on the trail, Samuel leaped into the saddle. Samuel was riding hard back the way he had come before Tom could climb out of the back of the wagon and come after him.

A short time later, a scruffy, buckskin-clad man with long hair braids emerged from the trees carrying a rifle and ran up to Tom.

"You want I should go after him, Tom?" asked the half-breed bandit.

"Nah; let him go. He won't do us any harm. We've got the rifles, and he's got nothing but his life and a horse," said Tom Jenkins.

* * * *

Alex

"Well, Martha Kelly, let's get going," said Alex.

The Maryland Rangers had been able to catch two of the riderless Iroquois ponies that were running loose. They had also gathered up their weapons and what belongings they could find. Alex had made arrangements with Captain Ellison McCoy to report for duty with the Maryland Rangers at Fort Cumberland, Maryland in a few days. Alex and Martha helped the Longhunter into the saddle of one of the ponies and said goodbye to the departing Maryland Rangers. The plan they had come up with was first for Alex and Martha to escort the Longhunter to his cabin so that he could rest and recuperate from his wound. And then Alex would take Martha to say goodbye to her folks at their grave and see if any of her possessions had survived the raid and fire. Alex didn't know what she wanted to do after that, but he thought it best to take things one step at a time.

They followed the game trails south with the Longhunter leading the way, riding slowly to prevent reopening the wound in his shoulder. The trip to the Longhunter's cabin took them several hours on horseback. After they unsaddled his horse at his cabin, they soon had the Longhunter set up with everything he needed and resting in his cot. Alex borrowed a shirt from the Longhunter.

They stayed with the Longhunter for two days to make sure that he was going to be alright and could fend for himself. Alex hunted in the woods near the Longhunter's cabin and filled his game bag that hung on the wall. Martha cleaned his cabin and washed his clothes while Alex was out hunting. The Longhunter was very weary from traveling, loss of sleep, and the ordeal, as well as from his wound, so he mostly slept. Alex and Martha had made camp just outside the Longhunters cabin. The Longhunter's cabin was so small that it wouldn't accommodate two additional people anyway, so Alex and Martha thought it would be best give the Longhunter some room to rest in his own space. Though he was tired from the day's tasks, sleep eluded Alex, who was anxious about what the coming days would hold for him.

On the evening of third day, the Longhunter was much improved and there was nothing more they could do for him so they saddled up their ponies and said goodbye to the Longhunter. They rode away to start their journey, even though there was only an hour or so of daylight left, just as the sun was sinking low on the horizon.

The Longhunter had given Alex directions that would lead him back to Martha's cabin, which was almost due south of the Longhunter's cabin. They rode until the sun went down, when they thought it best to stop and camp for the evening. Near a game trail, Alex found a nice clearing that offered some flat ground for their camp. He had taken some of the game he had hunted for the Longhunter, so they had some food and Alex did not have to hunt again for their supper. They both pitched in to prepare the meal, which they ate in an uneasy silence. After they cleaned up their gear and spread the blankets that the Longhunter had given them near the camp fire, Alex realized that he was much more exhausted than he had thought. So he lay down on his back on his bedroll, closed his eyes, and started to drift off to sleep. He was just about asleep when Martha decided that she wanted to talk.

"How long have you been in America, Alex?" asked Martha.

"Huh..., sorry..., what did you say?" replied Alex.

Martha looked down and her face turned red.

"Oh, I'm so sorry; I didn't realize that you were asleep," said Martha, eyes toward the ground.

"I have been in America only a few weeks," said Alex, who rolled over and rested his head on his hand with his elbow on the ground.

"How about you?" asked Alex.

"I have been here almost a year. I came over from Ireland with my husband and my parents," said Martha.

When Martha mentioned her husband, Alex's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He had assumed that she was unmarried. The Longhunter had never mentioned anything about her husband. Alex was instantly wide awake and wondering about the rest of the story and where her husband was now. He also upped his estimate of how old she was. Martha saw his eyes widen and his jaw drop, so she thought she should continue the explanation.

"My husband died during our ocean voyage from Ireland to Baltimore and was buried at sea. He caught a fever on the ship about two weeks after we left Dublin, and it got worse and worse until he eventually died. There was nothing we or anyone on the ship could do for him. I was very sad for a long time," continued Martha.

"I'm sorry to hear about that. Please accept my condolences," said Alex.

"It happened a little over a year ago, so I have pretty much gotten over it now," said Martha, who then paused to think while Alex remained silent.

"My father was a printer in Dublin, and he printed some pamphlets that the Irish government didn't approve of. A high ranking government official suggested that he leave the country rather than continue to try to change it. Our last name was O'Kelly in Ireland, but Papa dropped the "O" when we arrived in Baltimore because he didn't want to be associated with Ireland any more. He said he wanted to try farming in America and be an American. So, we homesteaded fifty acres of land on the frontier, where you saw what used to be our cabin. Father didn't have the money he needed to buy land closer to Baltimore or any other settlement. My husband had been a farmer in Ireland and, he was going to teach us how to farm."

She finally had to stop her narrative because she was choking up and had tears in her eyes. Alex didn't know what to do or say, so he kept his silence and rolled to his back to look at the stars while she recovered.

"Alex, I know how tired you are, so I am going to stop talking now and go to sleep as well. We can talk some more in the morning," said Martha.

Alex barely heard the last words. He had gotten almost no sleep for the last two days and was dead tired. He nodded his agreement and dropped immediately into a deep sleep.

When he woke the next morning, he saw that during the night Martha had moved her bedroll and was lying next to him near the ashes of the camp fire.

The shock and exhaustion from the previous few days resulted in Alex and Martha sleeping late at their little camp site in the clearing. The sun was high in the sky when they finally roused. They broke camp and mounted up as quickly as they could and rode to Martha's cabin site and her parent's new grave. It was several miles from the Longhunter's homestead, so it was early afternoon by the time they arrived at the burned out ruins of the cabin.

Martha tied up her horse and went to her parents' grave to spend some time there. Then she searched the burned out cabin for any of her possessions that might have survived the fire. Alex made a wooden cross to mark her parent's grave and then hunted for something for them to eat. There was nothing of Martha's possessions left in the cabin. The fire had destroyed everything. Alex used most of the scattered chimney stones that had fallen away from the cabin's fireplace during the fire to cover the grave so that wild animals would not dig up the bodies.

There wasn't much else they could do at the homestead and cabin. It was all gone, and there was nothing to be salvaged by staying there.

"What do you plan on doing now?" asked Alex cautiously.

"Well, my uncle, Sean Kelly, runs a general dry goods store in Williamsport. You may have met him and his wife if you were ever in Williamsport. They don't have any children of their own and they always treated me well."

Alex recognized that he had in fact met both of them when he and the Longhunter were resupplying in Williamsport after losing almost all their possessions to the Iroquois in the ambush that they narrowly escaped.

"We stayed with them for a while when we first came to America," continued Martha. "I think they would take me in and would want me to work for them in the dry goods store. I hear that their business is rapidly expanding. So I think I'd like to go to Williamsport to talk to my uncle Sean and my aunt."

"Okay, Williamsport it is. We had best get started if you are ready. It'll take a few days on the trail to get there. We'll probably have to stop and camp again, maybe more than once. Is that okay with you?" asked Alex.

"That is alright with me. I would rather not stay here any longer with all these bad memories," said Martha.

They mounted and turned their horses eastward toward Williamsport and rode until the day was fast drawing to a close. Alex began to scout for a stream, so they would have water for their camp. He soon found one not too far from the trail that they had been following. Alex had been able to take down some small game that he had encountered while they were at the cabin site, and the meat grilled up very nicely over the camp fire for their dinner. Martha put her bedroll down right next to Alex's as they prepared to bed down for the night.

Alex was not opposed to the familiarity that Martha exhibited. But he was not sure about her mental state, since she had just lost both her parents. She had also been held captive by the Iroquois and almost violated by the warriors in the tribe. They were both very tired physically, mentally and emotionally after their efforts of the past several days and were still recovering their strength from the ordeal. They immediately crawled into their bedrolls without much conversation and fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning Alex and Martha woke up in each other's arms, both of them sleeping in Alex's bedroll together. They traveled slowly, and it took them almost a week to cover the eighty or ninety odd miles from Martha's burned out cabin to Williamsport. They thoroughly enjoyed each other's company during the trip, and by the time they reached Williamsport, they were deeply in love.

* * * *

Samuel

Samuel Ruskin did not slow his horse until he was back on The Great Wagon Road. Instead of turning to ride eastward back toward Philadelphia, he had turned southwest and ridden fast until he was well away from his close call with Tom Jenkins. He thought that his potential pursuers would assume that he was headed back east. So he had decided he would throw them off by going in the other direction. When he finally realized that there was probably no one coming after him, he had stopped at a creek that ran across the trail to assess his chest wound. The wound was not too bad and looked like it would heal without any major problems. He cleaned the wound as best he could, bound it, and mounted his horse. Riding at a slower pace to save his horse's strength in case any pursuers unraveled his ruse and caught up with him, he had made his way toward York.

The altercation had left him shaken and a bit unsure of himself. In England, he had always been in charge and was the one who cooked up schemes for others to follow. It was disheartening to have a plot backfire on him and to lose his two best friends, along with his investment in the muskets, all at once. These Americans were apparently a different breed of cat, so he would have to reassess himself and his ability to survive and prosper in this new land.

After a few hours' ride, Samuel had arrived in York, Pennsylvania where he spent the night in an old inn. A few rounds of ale before turning in relaxed him and helped him recover from his ordeal before he fell asleep for the night. The next morning, he arose late and soon was riding back toward Philadelphia. It took him several more weary days on the trail to finally arrive in Philadelphia. Without his friends at his side and with his moneymaking scheme gone awry, he had no idea what he was going to do next.

As Samuel rode down the streets of Philadelphia, he decided to stop at the same tavern where his adventure to sell the guns had started.

"I didn't expect to see you back so soon," said the barkeeper.

"I didn't either," replied Samuel.

"What happened to you?"

"It's a long story. Can you bring me a tankard of ale?" asked Samuel with a sigh.

"Of course, I can," said the barkeeper as he walked off to fetch the drink.

* * * *

Alex

"Alex Mackenzie reporting for duty," said Alex, while saluting Captain Ellison McCoy as he stood in front of Ellison's desk at Fort Cumberland, Maryland.

"Alex lad, we are a bit more informal out here on the frontier. You don't have to salute me or anyone else around here," replied Ellison as he held out his hand to shake hands with Alex.

"Welcome to Fort Cumberland, Alex," he continued.

"Thank you Sir, I am looking forward to serving with the Rangers."

"Good. Our job is mainly to protect the settlers from raids by the Iroquois. We patrol this frontier area north to the Pennsylvania border and south almost to Winchester, Virginia. We also coordinate our activities with the Virginia militia and the Pennsylvania militia. It's a big area, and we are stretched pretty thin to cover it.

"This fort is located at the confluence of Willis Creek and the north branch of the Potomac River. It is also a supply depot that occupies a strategic point to defend the Maryland frontier. We have all stood on these parapets and watched the smoke rising in the distance from the farms and homes that the Iroquois were burning. Our primary job is to stop that when it is happening and prevent it from happening again."

"I understand, sir. What will my job be with the Rangers?" asked Alex.

"Well, Alex, we are short a cook right now. Your first job will be to serve as one of the cooks for the company," replied Ellison.

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best," said Alex.

Of course, Alex was taken aback and extremely disappointed that he was given the cook's job, but it was a better job than the one he had before he joined the Rangers, which was no job at all. So he decided that he could live with it. He was careful not to let his disappointment show.

* * * *

Kings Pinnacle Part 3

Robert and Hugh

"Wake up lads; rise and shine! There's an American colonial ship in the harbor that needs loading," shouted the short, red-bearded jailer into Robert and Hugh's cell.

"Can it nae find a way t' load itself?" asked Hugh who turned over in his cot, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Robert got up from his cot and looked out the barred window in the rear of the cell, which provided a view to the Larne harbor. Sure enough, there was a ship sitting at the dock that had not been there yesterday.

The time that Robert and Hugh had spent in the Larne gaol seemed to drag by slowly. As near as they could tell, they had been in the gaol for a little over six months, and it was now the late fall of 1773. Every now and then, they were taken out of their cell to perform some kind of manual labor, which served to break up the monotony of their incarceration. But overall, the days had blended into each other until Robert and Hugh lost track of exactly how many days they had been in the gaol.

"Ha! Let's go lads," said the turnkey, putting his key into the rusty lock.

He unlocked the jail cell door and ushered Robert and Hugh out of the gaol into the early, frosty morning cold and onto Larne road. Hugh blew on his hands and wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck as soon as he stepped out into the morning air.

"I didn't see any ships in the harbor yesterday," said Hugh, who eyed the turnkey with suspicion because Hugh thought he looked like a leprechaun.

"Ha! It came in during the night," replied the turnkey.

"It's the Dartmouth, fresh out of London with a cargo of Bohea tea already on board and bound for the colonies in America. She's here to top off her cargo with a load of Irish whiskey," continued the turnkey.

"Och, whiskey and tea! That sounds like a bad combination to me. Whiskey, I can load, if they'll let me sample a wee bit of it," said the grinning Hugh.

"Ha! There'll be no time for sampling, lad. Captain Hall's anxious to sail on the morning tide, just as soon as we can get him loaded," said the jailer.

The turnkey marched them from the gaol down to the dock and into a warehouse where the whiskey was stored. One after another, the brothers lifted the fifty pound wooden cases filled with Irish whiskey on their shoulders. They carried the cases out of the warehouse, down the dock, and up the gangplank of the Dartmouth.

The ship's first mate then led them down the ladder into the hold. They stacked and stowed the cases while the ship's bosun worked on balancing the cargo. The Bohea tea chests were much larger; each one weighed about four hundred pounds. The bosun showed Robert and Hugh where and how he wanted the whiskey cases tied down beside the tea chests in the hold.

The bosun was called away to handle some last minute maintenance with the ship's rigging, so he left the two men on their own to complete the job, after he had watched them stow the first few whiskey cases.

The turnkey sat down on a barrel at the bottom of the gangplank, talking with several of the sailors, while watching Robert and Hugh walk back and forth between the ship and the warehouse carrying the whiskey cases.

After a few round trips from the warehouse to the ship, Robert and Hugh stopped in the hold to rest and catch their breath.

"Hugh, let's pry the lid off and scoop some of the tea out of a couple of these tea chests. We'll put the tea we scoop out in a couple of these old sacks that I found in the back of the hold," said Robert.

Hugh knew better than to ask any questions. He kept his mouth shut and followed Robert's orders, since Robert obviously had hatched a plan. They pried the lids off two of the tea chests and set the empty sacks near them. Each time the brothers carried cases of whiskey down into the hold, one of them spent a few minutes scooping tea out of two of the tea chests into the sacks while the other one stowed the whiskey cases and tied them down. After two hours of hauling and stowing cases of Irish whiskey, the loading task was complete and two of the tea chests were about half empty. Lying off to one side of the tea chests were two sacks of tea that weighed about two hundred pounds each.

"Hugh, help me carry these sacks of tea up to the main deck and put them by the rail on the side away from the dock," said Robert.

It was a heavy lift and it took them two trips to haul the two sacks up the ladder to the main deck. There were no sailors nearby on the deck at the time, so the two men completed the task without being seen. Standing next to the rail, Robert lifted one of the sacks to his shoulders and Hugh lifted up the other one. At almost the same time, Robert and Hugh threw the sacks of tea over the rail and into the water. The force of the sacks hitting the water made two loud splashes that sounded like two men had dived from the ship into the cold water.

As soon as the brothers had thrown the sacks of tea into the water, they ran toward the hold ladder as quickly as they could. Just before they descended the ladder, Robert yelled, "Man overboard!" They scrambled down the ladder and into the hold, where they climbed into the two half empty tea chests. They lay down on the remaining tea and pulled the chests' lids over them. With their lids firmly in place, the tea chests they were hiding in looked just like any of the other tea chests that were stowed in the hold.

At the sound of the two splashes and the "Man overboard!" yell, sailors from all over the ship ran to the rail and looked into the water to see if they could spot the men they thought had jumped overboard. The sailors and the turnkey lounging at the bottom of the gangplank ran up it onto the ship and over to the seaward rail to try to look for the men in the water. But they could see nothing in the water except the circular waves surrounding the splashes. The waves bounced off the ship's hull and were rapidly advancing out to sea.

"Who went overboard?" asked the jailer.

"I don't know," said Captain Hall, who had walked up to join the crowd of men at the ship's rail.

"Ha! Has anyone checked to see if my two prisoners are in the hold?" asked the turnkey.

"I'll have a look down there," said the bosun as he turned to climb down the ladder into the hold.

"We'll all take a look with you," said Captain Hall as he followed the bosun toward the hold ladder.

The entire group descended the ladder and searched the hold. After the prisoners could not be found in the hold, the captain instructed the sailors to search the rest of the decks and all the cabins of the ship. There was no sign of Robert and Hugh anywhere on or off the ship, so the group reassembled on the main deck.

"They must have jumped over the rail and swum under water either away from the ship or under it. Since no one saw them swimming at sea, they must have gone under the ship. They are most likely hiding under the pier," said Captain Hall.

"Ha! They'll have to come up sometime or freeze to death in the water. I'll collect them shortly," said the jailer.

"Well, the whiskey is all accounted for and your prisoners are not on my ship. I'm not going to miss the morning tide," said Captain Hall.

"Ha! Good luck to you Captain, and smooth sailing," said the turnkey as he walked down the gangplank with a smile on his face. He began searching under the pier for Robert and Hugh.

"Cast off the hawsers and prepare to edge away," commanded Captain Hall as the sailors began the process of readying the ship to leave the dock. After a few minutes, the gangplank was pulled in, and the Dartmouth began to slip its mooring and slowly move away from the dock as the outgoing tide pulled it toward the ocean.

* * * *

Samuel

Samuel Ruskin was out of options and feeling quite low about his life in America. His two best friends were dead, and he had spent most of his money and lost his investment in the rifles he had purchased in England. He had worn out his welcome with the few other friends he had in Philadelphia. He had stayed drunk for several weeks and after a few months of wandering aimlessly around the city, he decided that it was time for him to sober up do something for himself. The problem was he didn't have a clue what to do.

As he sat in his favorite tavern drinking ale, he felt as if the world was coming down around him. He had no prospects and was thinking about returning to England when two British soldiers walked into the tavern wearing their uniforms. He knew that they were off-duty infantrymen since they weren't carrying their rifles.

"You two redcoats drink up quick and then get the hell out of here fast," said the barman to the two infantrymen.

"Hold on there barkeeper; these two lads are friends of mine. Come on over here and sit a spell," said Samuel as he ordered a couple of pints of ale for the two soldiers.

Samuel had acted on a spur of the moment impulse. He didn't exactly know why, but he smelled a profit and wanted to explore it before it passed him by. He didn't personally know the two soldiers but he was interested in learning why they were not welcome in the tavern.

"Why's the barkeeper so anxious for you two lads to get out of here?" asked Samuel, turning to the soldier who held the rank of sergeant.

"Well, the British Army is not too popular among the colonists right now. General Gage has been moving British troops from their frontier stations back to the big cities like New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. There are so many of us now in the cities that there are not enough barracks to hold all of us. We have been forcibly quartered in private residences, much to the dislike of the residence owners. Food and other supplies have become scarce. The colonists still hate us for the Boston Massacre that happened a few years ago. They've started calling us redcoats and lobster backs," said the sergeant.

"How do you get food and other supplies?" asked Samuel.

"There's supposed to be an agent or a factor for the British Army quartermaster that buys food and supplies from the local colonists and sells them to the British Army to keep us supplied. But right now, we don't have one."

"How is this agent hired?"

"I don't rightly know. I suspect that it would be handled out of General Gage's headquarters in New York."

Samuel thought about the possibilities that this situation presented and concluded that he might be able to make a profit from it if he handled it correctly. It would require a balancing act on his part. He would have to develop friendly relations with the colonists who had goods to sell. And he would have to hide from them the fact that he was buying the materials and food for the British Army.

He figured he might just think of a way to do that.

"Drink up lads, I'll buy you another round," said the smiling Samuel, who had just come up with another plan to make his fortune in America.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"You two can come out now," said Captain Hall as he stood in the hold with his hands on his hips facing the tea chests.

The captain obviously knew that Robert and Hugh were hiding in the hold, so after a moment's hesitation, Robert was the first one to push the lid off the tea chest he was lying in and step out of it.

"You can come out now, Hugh," said Robert, and Hugh quickly followed suit.

"Well, well, what do we have here? It looks like I've caught a couple of stowaways," said Captain Hall to the two men standing beside the tea chests that they had been lying in.

"Weel now Captain, we was just taking a wee nap when ye suddenly lit out with us on board. We had nae time to get off the boat before she sailed," said Hugh with a grin.

"Sounds like yer spinning me a yarn, lad. Right now we are about fifty miles out to sea on our way to Boston. We don't plan on going back to Larne, so you two are safe from the authorities in Ireland. I don't know why you were in the Larne jail, but I was short two sailors on this trip. You two have provided me with an easy way to fill out my crew out to full strength. Do either of you have any sailing experience?" asked Captain Hall.

"How much does it pay?" asked Hugh with another grin.

"You two lads are not going to have to worry about pay for a long time," said the captain with a smile.

"Why is that?" asked Hugh.

"Well, it looks like you two lads just threw half the contents of two of my one hundred fourteen chests of Bohea tea overboard back at the docks in Larne. When a tea chest is full, each one holds four hundred pounds weight of tea. In the colonies, Bohea tea sells for two shillings per pound. You two threw eight hundred shillings or forty pounds cash money worth of tea into the ocean. How are you two going to repay forty pounds cash to the Boston consignee of the East India Company for the tea you threw overboard?"

Robert didn't say anything and for once Hugh didn't either.

"Sailor's pay on the Dartmouth is one penny a day. On that pay, you should be able to save about one pound per year, if you are frugal. It'll take you two about twenty years of sailing each to work off your debt," said Captain Hall with a smile.

Hugh looked at Robert and shrugged. Robert said nothing.

* * * *

Samuel

Samuel Ruskin booked passage on a small trader's vessel that was leaving Philadelphia harbor on its route to New York. When he arrived in New York harbor, he disembarked and contacted some of his acquaintances from England. He was trying to gain an introduction to the quartermaster that worked for General Gage, the British Army commander. It didn't take long for him to make the proper connections, and soon he had an appointment with the quartermaster himself, Colonel Barton. Samuel arrived at the quartermaster's office at the appointed time and was ushered into the office to speak with the quartermaster.

"My name is Samuel Ruskin, Colonel Barton," said Samuel shaking hands with the colonel.

"Please have a seat Mr. Ruskin," said Colonel Barton. "How may I be of service to you?"

"I think that I may be of service to you, Colonel," replied Samuel. "I understand that you are having difficulty supplying your troops in Philadelphia."

"That's true. It is almost impossible to hire an agent in Philadelphia or any of the other major cities here in the colonies for that matter. It's also impossible keep one in the job very long. Our factors soon become disgruntled as their relationship with the colonists deteriorates to the point where they can't effectively do their job. The colonists seem to resent the presence of the British Army even though we are here only to protect them. General Gage has returned to England for a short while, and I have to make decisions for the good of the army without higher approvals while he is gone."

"I understand your difficulty, and yet the job must still be done if the British Army is going to be fed and survive in the colonies," said Samuel.

"Do you have a suggestion that would help solve the problem in Philadelphia?" asked the quartermaster.

"Yes I do. I propose that you hire me as your agent in Philadelphia, but do not tell anyone in your command that I am in your employ. I will represent myself in Philadelphia as a merchant who buys food and other goods for export and trade. I will lease warehouse space at the docks to store the food and goods that I purchase. But rather than shipping them for export or trade, I will move the goods and food under cover of darkness or by other means to the British Army depot in Philadelphia. The colonists will be none the wiser. They will be supplying goods and food to the British Army and not be aware of it."

"I don't know if your plan will work or not, but at this point, I am more than willing to try anything."

"To further the ruse, I intent to enlist in the Pennsylvania volunteer militia so that I can establish more friendly relations with the colonists and make the contacts I will need to buy the goods that your army requires," continued Samuel.

"Your plan might work."

"It will depend on our maintaining the secrecy of our arrangement. In addition, I might be able to pass along some information from time to time that may be of interest to the British Army regarding the civilian and military situations in the Philadelphia militia and elsewhere."

The quartermaster leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands in front of him, with his elbows resting on his desk, to consider Samuel's proposal. After a few moments of thought, he made his decision.

"I am willing to give your plan a trial run to see if it will work. After six months I should know if our relationship will work or if I want to modify it or scrap it entirely."

"That sounds fair to me. I will need a cash advance in order to procure warehouse space and set myself up in Philadelphia as a merchant."

"That can be arranged," said the quartermaster.

The two men then leaned over the quartermaster's desk together to work out the details of their arrangement.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

The Dartmouth was a trim eighty foot brig built in New Bedford Village, Massachusetts in 1767. She was originally designed to be a whaling vessel. Her maiden voyage consisted of carrying a cargo of whale oil to London. Nantucket was her home port, but she had been chartered by the Boston consignee of the East India Company. Her charter was to haul a cargo of tea owned by Davison, Newman and Co. of London, and some other goods, from Great Britain to Boston with a stop in Larne to pick up a load of Irish whiskey.

Captain Hall was a good captain and treated his men fairly. He was well liked by all the crew and by the ship's owners. Robert and Hugh learned their ship's duties rapidly. They soon became friendly with the crew and fit into the daily shipboard routine seamlessly. The voyage from Ireland to Boston was smooth sailing and passed by quickly for the brothers. Shipboard life seemed to agree with Robert and Hugh. They had taken the attitude that there was nothing they could do about their situation for the present, so they might as well enjoy it. So they did. Hugh was always a lot of fun to be around and soon became one of the crew's favorites. He always seemed to have a funny story to tell or was playing a practical joke on another member of the crew.

No one on board the ship knew about the trouble that was brewing in the American colonies, except perhaps Captain Hall. The Tea Act of 1773 had lowered the price of legally imported Bohea tea from China below the price of smuggled Dutch tea. But there was still discontent about taxation without representation and the extent of the British Parliament's authority over the American colonies. The Tea Act had given the East India Company a monopoly over the tea trade to the colonies. That did not sit well with a number of colonists, who feared that the tea monopoly might be extended to a monopoly on other goods as well.

It was a cold winter day when the Dartmouth arrived in Boston harbor on November 29, 1773. It was piloted by the captain to a mooring a few hundred yards off of Griffin's Wharf. As soon as the anchor was dropped, a group of men who called themselves the Sons of Liberty assembled on the wharf to prevent the cargo of tea from being unloaded from the Dartmouth and two other ships. British law in the colonies required that the Dartmouth unload the tea and pay the duties and customs fees within twenty days or the customs officials could confiscate the cargo.

Everyone on board The Dartmouth knew about the twenty day deadline, so there was a lot of anticipation and a lot of betting about what would happen when the deadline expired. Robert and Hugh spent their time loafing on board the ship with the other sailors who didn't have shore leave. They were not allowed shore leave because Captain Hall feared that they might run away as soon as they got to land. The captain made sure that one or more of the experienced and trusted sailors were with Robert and Hugh at all times, just to make sure that they didn't jump ship and swim to shore. The water in Boston harbor was ice cold, so it would have been a long, cold swim anyway. It was unlikely that Robert and Hugh would attempt it in the winter, but Captain Hall was a wary sort and took appropriate precautions.

On the evening of December 16, 1773, which was the deadline for unloading the tea, at about seven o'clock in the evening, Robert and Hugh were lounging at the rail and talking. They were looking toward Griffin's Wharf when they saw a band of almost one hundred men dressed up in Mohawk and Iroquois costumes walk out on the dock. The men were armed with tomahawks or small hatchets, pistols and clubs, and their faces were disguised with black soot or boot polish. They divided up into three groups and requisitioned boats to row out to the three ships loaded with imported tea and anchored in Boston harbor. One of the three groups rowed out to and boarded the Dartmouth. The leader of this group was a man named George Hewes. After George climbed the ship's ladder, he asked for Captain Hall and was directed to him by one of the sailors.

"We are the Sons of Liberty and we are going to dump your cargo of tea into Boston harbor, Captain. Please give me the keys to the hatches and a dozen candles," said George Hewes.

"I will be happy to comply with your request, but please ask your men to do no damage to the other cargo, the ship, or its rigging," replied Captain Hall.

"If you comply with my request, I will comply with yours," said George Hewes, after which Captain Hall handed George Hewes the keys to the hatches and gathered up a dozen candles for him.

Hewes then walked down the deck to the hatch covers and began fumbling with the cover locks. Hugh, who had observed the events and the conversation with Captain Hall, walked up to George Hewes to see what he was doing.

"Guid Sir, do ye mind if I asked ye what is it that ye are doing?" asked Hugh.

"Stand aside lad, while I figure out how to open these hatches," said George.

"Allow me to help ye, sir," said Hugh, as he took the keys from George and began opening the hatches for him.

"When I get these hatches open for ye, what is it that ye and these men plan on doing?" Hugh continued.

"We plan on throwing the cargo overboard."

"Ach, nae, yer not planning on throwing all that Irish whiskey into the harbor, are ye?" asked Hugh, somewhat aghast.

"Nae lad, just the tea goes into the water."

"Thank the Almighty. I was going to suggest that we drink the whiskey rather than throw it in the briny," said Hugh with a smile.

Hugh finished opening the hatches and led George and his men down into the hold, where Hugh pointed out where the tea was stowed. They lit the candles and began placing them where they illuminated the hold so that the men could see to work.

"Why do ye want to throw the tea into the harbor?" asked Hugh.

"It's a long story, lad. Let's just say that we need to send a message to King George and the Parliament in England," said George Hewes.

"Me brither Robber and I can help ye throw the tea into the briny. We got a head start and already threw some of it into the harbor back in Larne," said Hugh to the puzzled look on George's face.

George had no idea what Hugh was talking about, but continued to light the candles and size up the job.

"Well, lads, let's get to it!" shouted George to his men.

The men spent the next three hours hoisting the tea chests to the main deck using the ship's block and tackle gear. On the deck, they broke open the tea chests with hatchets and clubs, and dumped them, along with their contents, into Boston harbor. When they were nearing the end of their task, Robert pulled Hugh aside.

"Hugh, come with me," whispered Robert.

Hugh followed Robert as he led the way down into the ship's galley. Robert grabbed a handful of cold ashes from the cook's fire and mixed them with some water. He took the dark paste that was formed by the mixture and smeared it on his face and on Hugh's face so that they would look like the Sons of Liberty in Mohawk costumes who had boarded the Dartmouth. Robert then tore up some rags and tied them around his and Hugh's head and around their sleeves to further disguise their appearance. The brothers then took the ship's blankets from their cots and wrapped them around their shoulders. They climbed up to the main deck, where they joined the men who had just thrown the last of the tea chests into the harbor.

As the patriots began climbing down the ship's ladder to their boats, Robert and Hugh mingled with them. They got in the line at the ladder to depart the ship as if they had been members of the party. Just as they were about to descend the ship's ladder to the boats waiting below, Captain Hall caught sight of them. He ran up and stopped them from going down the ladder.

"Good luck to you lads. I have no hard feelings, and I'm not going to try to stop you," he said as he held out his hand to shake hands with the two brothers.

"You two would have made good sailors, but I understand why you want to leave the ship. Your debt for the tea you threw overboard in Larne is erased as far as I am concerned. That tea would have gone overboard here in Boston harbor anyway. Farewell to you both," said the captain.

"Good luck to you and the Dartmouth," said Robert as they descended the ladder and took up rowing positions in the patriots' boat.

It was about nine o'clock at night and after a few strokes of the oars, Robert climbed up the dock ladder onto Griffin's Wharf and looked around at the city of Boston, cloaked in its cold December night colors.

"Weel Robber, what do we do now?" asked Hugh after he had climbed onto the wharf behind Robert.

Of course, Robert said nothing, but led off walking toward the lights of Boston, and Hugh fell in walking with him.

* * * *

Alex

The months passed quickly for Alex at Fort Cumberland and on the frontier in general. There was plenty to do, whether at the fort or when the Rangers were on a mission or out on patrol. It was only a little over a sixty mile ride along the banks of the Potomac River from Fort Cumberland to Williamsport, so had Alex spent all the time he could with Martha. They had become very close, and Alex courted her whenever he could take some leave from his job with the Rangers. Martha's Uncle Sean and his wife liked Alex and approved of him. Alex thought that they would like to see him and Martha married as soon as possible. But there was no place for a wife at Fort Cumberland, and Alex thought that the frontier environment was much too rough and dangerous for a woman.

Alex had been quickly promoted from his cooking job and before long had become a full-fledged Ranger scout. He participated in almost all the missions and patrols against the Iroquois and eventually came to be respected by the other Rangers for his marksmanship, bravery, and leadership. He maintained his continuing friendship with the Longhunter and met him a number of times at Fort Cumberland and out in the wilderness.

At the end of 1773, about the same time that the patriots, including Robert and Hugh, were dumping tea into Boston harbor, Ellison McCoy retired and named Alex his replacement as commander of the Maryland Rangers. Alex was the youngest commander that the Maryland Rangers had ever promoted into that position.

* * * *

Kings Pinnacle Part 4

Robert and Hugh

"Robber, do ye think we'll ever find Alex in America?" asked Hugh as he stood next to Robert in the militia formation on Lexington Green in the village of Lexington, Massachusetts.

"We've been in America for well over a year now, and there's been no sign of him," Hugh continued.

Robert looked puzzled, but he did not answer the question or nod. The truth was that he didn't know. They had been looking for Alex since they had arrived in America, as much as they could anyway and stay alive themselves. When they arrived in Boston, they had no money and no possessions, so they were forced to find work as quickly as possible to keep from starving to death or freezing to death. After spending a few nights sleeping on the freezing ground in the Boston Common, wrapped up in the ship's blankets that they had used as disguises to escape from the Dartmouth, they finally were able to find jobs at a gunpowder mill located near Charlestown, beyond the Neck, on the Charles River.

After a few months of working at the mill, Robert was able to take a leave of absence from his job. Leaving Hugh behind, Robert had traveled to Philadelphia to see if he could find any trace of Alex. The trip proved to be fruitless since there was no sign of Alex in Philadelphia or the surrounding area. After a week of searching, Robert gave up and traveled back to Boston to resume his job at the gunpowder mill. They still asked every traveler if they knew anything of Alex or had heard of him, but none of them proved to be of any value or have any knowledge of him at all.

The British government had restricted the manufacture of gunpowder and controlled its importation by the colonies. With the increase in tension between England and the colonies, the British government further restricted the amount of gunpowder that the colonists could manufacture themselves to the bare minimum that the British thought was required for survival.

The gunpowder mill on the Charles River had been in operation since the early 1700s. In the 1730s, stamp mills were replaced by edge-runner mills, which used limestone runners that were carved into large upright wheels. A stone bed made of limestone or marble provided a table for the wheels to run on, in order to grind the ingredients for making gunpowder. The gunpowder that the Charles River mill manufactured was sold to colonists throughout Massachusetts and beyond. The excess gunpowder was not stored on site because of the explosion risk. Once a week, Hugh drove a wagon with the excess barrels of gunpowder to several sites that were used as powder magazines in a circuit around the Charles mill. One of these magazine sites was located at Concord, Massachusetts.

By weight measure, black powder or gunpowder was made of seventy-five parts saltpeter finely ground, fifteen parts charcoal, and ten parts sulfur. These three ingredients had to be ground separately and then mixed together in an incorporating mill to become the explosive mixture, gunpowder. Sulfur was usually obtained by importing it from the natural sulfur deposits of Sicily; however, saltpeter and charcoal could be easily obtained locally. Saltpeter was usually leached from manure. In colonial America, the manure contained in barnyards, outhouses, and bat-cave guano deposits was considered the property of the British government. Charcoal was manufactured from the low-oxygen burning of willows or cottonwood trees.

Robert and Hugh were standing in a military formation of the Massachusetts militia commanded by Captain John Parker at the Lexington Green just at sunrise on the morning of April 19, 1775. They had joined the Colonial militia, as had most of the young men in the area, out of a feeling of patriotism for their new country and because they hated the British. The militia had been alerted several hours previously by Paul Revere, William Dawes, and Samuel Prescott. These men had triggered throughout the countryside an alarm and muster system that had been carefully planned for months in advance. The alarm system had been in operation since the so-called Powder Alarm, during which British troops had confiscated a large supply of gunpowder from the Powder House magazine north of Boston. This time, the midnight riders had alerted them that the redcoats were coming to confiscate unauthorized supplies of gunpowder and arms that were stored in an armory and magazine at Concord. The British were also going to arrest patriots Samuel Adams and John Hancock.

Hugh had helped move the gunpowder and military goods out of the armory and the magazine at Concord several days earlier when he had made his circuit stop there. Because of that, the mission by the British Army was doomed to failure before it ever began. It was rumored that General Gage's wife, Margaret Gage had informed the colonists of the upcoming mission so that the arms and gunpowder could be moved in time.

Robert and Hugh were talking to each other and with the other men standing in the military formation while trying to stay warm in the early morning hours. All of them were snickering about the British Army marching all the way to Concord to find nothing and then having to march all the way back to Boston. As soon as the British Army marched up the Lexington common and arrived at the Lexington Green, Captain Parker called the men to attention in their formation.

"Stand your ground, don't fire unless fired upon, but if they mean to have a war, let it begin here," said Captain Parker, speaking to the men of Massachusetts militia.

The British Army began to deploy and formed a battle line opposite the colonists, who were still standing in formation. A British officer soon rode up on horseback to survey the situation.

"Lay down your arms, you damned rebels," shouted the British officer across the hundred yards between the two forces.

"We will, only if ye do first!" shouted the impetuous Hugh back to the British officer.

The shouting back and forth between the two armies continued for a short time as Captain Parker and the British officer struggled to maintain order. As the shouting died down, a single shot rang out, the so-called "shot heard round the world". The man standing next to Robert grabbed his arm after the musket ball from that shot had passed through it, leaving behind a bloody wound. No one knew who fired the shot, but Robert pushed Hugh to the ground and dove down next to him. Robert aimed his musket at the British Army soldiers, as did Hugh. Without any orders to fire, Robert and Hugh fired into the British ranks and then retreated over a stone wall to reload. Robert's shot wounded a British corporal, who was the only British casualty of the entire skirmish.

The British Army responded by firing a devastating volley toward the militia men, killing several of them, and then charged with bayonets fixed to their muskets. At the sight of the bayonet charge, Robert and Hugh and all the rest of the militia men that were not badly wounded ran for their lives.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Captain, you may proceed with the demonstration," said the colonel to the young British officer standing at attention in front of the reviewing stand.

The young officer bowed at the waist to the dignitaries sitting in the reviewing stand and nervously glanced at the other military officers and functionaries standing to the side of it. Then he began speaking.

"Your Royal Highness and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. This is my invention, and how it works is what I will be demonstrating to you today," said Captain Ferguson as he held up the rifle, which to the untrained eye looked just like any other musket, including the British Army standard issue called the Brown Bess.

Captain Ferguson was standing in front of and speaking to King George of England and the chiefs of staff of the British Army, as well as a number of other interested men, at a rifle range in England. This range was normally used to train British Army marksmen and was located just to the southeast of London at the Military College at Woolwich. The rifle that the captain was holding up for everyone to see was called the Ferguson rifle by those few who knew of its existence. And those who knew of it were excited about its potential and what it was capable of doing for the British Army. The demonstration had been arranged by Captain Ferguson himself at his own expense.

The Ferguson rifle was one of the first rifles in the world that loaded from the breech rather than from the muzzle. This feature allowed it to be fired at the rate of six shots per minute. The Brown Bess, which was the standard issue British Army musket, employed the time-consuming muzzle loading ramrod system. This limited a soldier to three shots per minute and required him to load his weapon while standing upright. In contrast, the Ferguson rifle could be loaded, reloaded, and fired while standing, kneeling, sitting, or lying on the ground. The sixty-five caliber Ferguson rifle was forty-nine inches long, including a thirty-four inch barrel. It was accurate at a range of up to two hundred yards, whereas the Brown Bess was accurate to a range of only one hundred yards.

"I apologize that the weather is so dreadful, but I intend to go on with the test and trial anyway with your kind permission," said the captain.

The king nodded his approval to start the test. The weather was in fact very foul. It was raining and the wind was gusting to speeds of up to twenty-five miles per hour. A group of down range targets had been set up at a distance of two hundred yards from the firing stations in front of the reviewing stand.

The captain began at the left-most firing position on the rifle range, where he stood and fired a single shot into the center of the target. He then reloaded from a standing position and fired a second shot from the standing position at the same target, striking it again. The captain then moved to the second firing position, knelt down on one knee and rotated the trigger guard breech screw to open the breech. He loaded a musket ball and powder into the breech from his powder horn. Then he closed the breech by rotating the trigger guard breech screw in the opposite direction. Firing from this kneeling position, he struck the second target, and then he repeated this procedure, striking the second target again. The captain then moved to the third firing position on the range and assumed a prone or lying-face-down firing position, where he loaded and fired two more shots, striking the third target twice.

After this demonstration, the captain stood and reloaded. Then he started walking toward the last target. He paused to take aim and hit the fourth target. Then he resumed walking and reloaded the rifle while walking. As soon as he had reloaded it, he paused, took aim and hit the fourth target again. In spite of the heavy rain and strong wind, the rifle had operated flawlessly, and Captain Ferguson had proved to be an outstanding marksman.

Carrying his rifle slung over his shoulder, the captain walked back toward the covered reviewing pavilion, where King George and the military men were discussing the demonstration. It was obvious that the rifle could be fired, reloaded, and fired again without breaking cover. This was a huge advantage that could change the way battles were fought all over the world. Rather than standing in a formation and firing in ranks, riflemen could find concealed positions and fire at targets of their own selection and at their own pace. This rifle could also potentially eliminate the bayonet fighting that usually followed the initial rifle volleys and cost so many lives.

Captain Ferguson stopped in front of King George and bowed and then straightened up to address the king and the other officials.

"Your Royal Highness and gentlemen, this concludes my demonstration today of my new rifle. I hope that you agree with me that it was successful and may prove to be valuable to the British Army," said the captain, with another formal bow to the dignitaries.

"Captain Ferguson, we are very impressed with your rifle and the test that you conducted for us today. We would like to extend this test of your rifle into a field trial of it. And as such, we hereby commission the manufacture of one hundred of your rifles for this field trial. We command you to train one hundred regular army British riflemen in it use. This rifle company under your command as Captain Commandant will be transported to the American colonies after the completion of your training to assist in putting down this damned rebellion. That should prove to be an adequate field trial of your rifle," replied King George.

"Thank you, Sire, I am humbled to follow your orders," said the smiling and gracious captain.

* * * *

Samuel

"I have been promoted to the rank of major in the Pennsylvania militia," said Samuel to General Gage's quartermaster, Colonel Barton.

"Excellent news," replied the quartermaster.

"General Gage wants to speak with you personally before you leave today. But before I show you into his office, I want to say what a wonderful job you have done supplying food and other materials to the British garrison in Philadelphia."

"Thank you very much Sir. It is my humble duty as an Englishman to be of service to the crown."

What Samuel did not say was that he had also become personally wealthy by purchasing from the colonists at rock bottom prices, by using his leverage as one of them, and reselling those goods to the British Army. He in turn billed the British at greatly marked up prices because, even at those inflated prices, the food and supplies were less expensive than importing them from England or other countries. It was a dangerous game that he was playing. The colonists had no knowledge that he was supplying the British Army, and he took every precaution to prevent them from learning about it. He knew that his very life depended on it. Samuel went so far as to load most of the goods he purchased from the colonists onto boats. He then shipped them to his warehouses in New York or Boston and later reshipped them back to the Philadelphia British Army depot. That way the British Army could receive them at the dock as if they had arrived from England or another foreign country. Samuel had also joined the Pennsylvania militia to further his ties with the colonists who were selling him the goods. He was in Boston checking on his warehouse operations and had scheduled a meeting with Colonel Barton, the quartermaster, while he was there.

General Gage had recently arrived back in Boston from England and had just been appointed to the position of military Royal Governor and Commander-in-Chief of Massachusetts by King George. General Gage was now becoming very concerned about his army and navy's position in Boston. After the Battles of Lexington and Concord, the colonists had surrounded Boston and were making preparations to drive the British out. If they were successful, General Gage had plans to retreat to New York and reorganize his army.

When Samuel Ruskin was shown into General Gage's office by his friend the quartermaster, he was asked to take a seat. General Gage offered him no hand but immediately looked up from his work.

"I understand from my staff that you have been very helpful to the crown's cause here in the colonies," opened General Gage.

"I have tried to do some small service to the crown," replied Samuel with the appearance of utmost modesty.

"Your effort at supplying our troops has been most commendable," said the general.

"Thank you for those kind words."

"I think that you may become even more valuable to us in the future."

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"General Howe is on his way to Boston and will arrive any day now with reinforcements. He will also take command of his majesty's army in Boston. I want you to work with Howe and from time to time provide him with any information that you may have gathered about the colonist's activities and plans in Philadelphia and the surrounding area where you are active. You may be more valuable to the crown as a source of information than as a factor. Is there any possibility that you can enlist in the colonial militia?"

"I have just been promoted to the rank of major in the Pennsylvania militia and would be most honored to provide what information that I can," replied Samuel.

"Excellent, please work out any details with the quartermaster and if you require any additional funds to carry out this service, please let him know."

"Thank you, General."

"That will be all," replied General Gage as he went back to work, leaving Samuel Ruskin to find his own way out of the general's office.

Samuel saw this as a golden opportunity, and now was the time to grab the golden goose that laid the golden eggs. Of course, he would need additional funds to help the British Army, lots of additional funds. He thought that now he would move from being wealthy to being very wealthy at the British Army's expense. Samuel immediately began a mental checklist of all the things that he would have to accomplish to be of even greater service to the British Army.

The trip back to Philadelphia by ship had favorable winds and was not too tedious. As soon as he landed and walked into his office in the back of his largest warehouse, he called for his straw boss that helped him oversee his operations in Philadelphia.

"What's happened while I have been gone?" asked Samuel.

"Nothing of any major import," replied the henchman.

"I'm going to be leaving soon and traveling with the Continental Army full time. So I am going to leave you in charge of my warehouse operations while I am gone. You know the drill, and I know that you can handle it. Keep everything running as smoothly as it has been running in the past."

"I will be happy to do it."

"Any new rumors around the dock?" asked Samuel.

"Nothing new to speak of, but we did catch a couple of young women trying to pilfer one of our warehouses."

"Where are they now?"

"We're holding them in one of the warehouse storage rooms. We were waiting until you got back to see what you wanted to do with them."

"Bring them to me. I want to talk with them," commanded Samuel.

The two young women were brought into Samuel's office, and he leered at them as they walked in.

"What are your names?" asked Samuel.

"I'm Molly and this is my sister Maggie," said one of the girls.

"Molly and Maggie, it is then. We three are going to have a good time together," said Samuel as he ogled the pretty young women.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Weel, I love that dirty water," said the bored Hugh as he gazed into the Charles River. The river did in fact look dirty because it was flowing with a great deal of silt and soil due to the heavy rains that had recently fallen in its watershed.

"Why's that?" replied the usually taciturn Robert.

Hugh turned his head to look directly at Robert in shock. It was one of the few times Robert had actually responded to one of his comments. Hugh normally tendered these questions, unsuccessfully, just to try to start a conversation with him. Hugh thought that Robert would never take the bait, and he was totally shocked that he had.

"Weel now, since ye asked, Robber, the dirty water turns the wee water wheel that powers the gunpowder mill where we used to work. Without that dirty water, we would have starved to death or frozen to death when we first arrived in Boston. Furthermore, it helps us keep the British Army bottled up inside Boston. I suspect that someone will someday write a song about that dirty water," said Hugh.

"Doubtful, but maybe," replied Robert with a thoughtful look. Hugh was doubly shocked that Robert had responded again. Hugh was, for once, speechless and immediately dropped the conversation. Robert didn't try to keep it going either.

Robert and Hugh had taken leave from their jobs at the Charles River gunpowder mill to join the Massachusetts militia under a full time one year enlistment contract. They didn't know if they would get paid or not, but they weren't getting paid very much for working in the gunpowder mill anyway. So not much would be lost if they didn't get paid for their Massachusetts militia service.

After their skirmish with the colonists at Lexington Green, the British Army marched on to Concord in search of weapons and gunpowder. At Concord, they were confronted to a standoff at the Old North Bridge and driven back all the way to Boston by the American militiamen. After the word spread about the battles at Lexington and Concord, thousands of militiamen from all over Massachusetts, and eventually from all over New England, gathered around Boston to form a siege line surrounding Boston on three sides. They blocked the Charlestown Neck and the Boston Neck, leaving only the harbor and the sea access under British control. As the colonial state militias began to arrive, the British moved their troops out of Charlestown, across the bay into the city of Boston proper. This effectively prevented the British Army from operating outside of the city of Boston. The military action by the Colonial army became a siege of Boston.

General George Washington had not yet arrived to take charge of the Continental Army, as it was now being called. The colonial troops surrounding Boston numbered about fifteen thousand men under the command of Artemas Ward. Robert and Hugh had signed their oath and enlistment papers under Colonel William Prescott. They had been assigned as riflemen to a unit that was operating in the Charlestown Neck region of the siege. The area north of Charlestown was essentially a "no man's land" between the two armies.

The Continental Army leaders had learned from a patriot who had visited Boston and overheard a conversation that the British were planning to come across Boston Harbor. They would land at Charlestown in force and occupy the high ground of Bunker Hill and Breeds Hill. The British Army wanted to deny the colonial troops access to that high ground. They feared that the Continental Army cannons could be accurately fired into Boston proper from the tops of those two hills.

Robert and Hugh were part of the group of militiamen who had crossed the Charlestown Neck and were manning a redoubt that they had helped build on Breeds Hill. From there, they could fire down on the British Army from behind the earthen and wood walls of the redoubt. Hugh was standing next to Robert on the wooden platform on the south side of the redoubt with his rifle loaded and his pan primed.

"Do ye think the redcoats will come this way, Robber?" asked Hugh.

Robert just shrugged his shoulders. He knew about as much as any of the other soldiers did, which wasn't very much. They knew that the British had landed at Moulton's Point in the early morning hours that day and were being deployed somewhere to do something, but they had no idea what it was.

As the afternoon wore on, a line of British soldiers marching shoulder-to-shoulder gradually began to take shape in the distance as they approached Breeds Hill in an assault line along the narrow beach located on the left flank. Robert and Hugh, redeployed along with the other men to the east side of the redoubt, began to fire at the redcoats as they came within range. The British troops were trying to envelope the redoubt around its left side in a flanking maneuver.

"I wish we had Alex with us. He and that rifle of his could pick off these redcoats from a much greater range than we can," said Hugh.

"So do I," said Robert with a grimace.

The British attack soon faltered, and the redcoats fell back in disarray to regroup, leaving many dead and dying on the battlefield. The second attack came toward the redoubt directly from the front as well as from the left flank. Robert and Hugh moved back over to the south side platform so that they could fire directly into the main body of charging British regulars. This attack also soon faltered, and the British again retreated from the battlefield.

"How much powder do ye have left, Robber?" asked Hugh.

"I am about out," answered Robert.

"So am I. Weel, I guess we'll be fighting them hand-to-hand before it's over," said Hugh.

The third assault by the British troops came directly up Breeds Hill in a force that included all of the British troops. Robert ran out of powder first and borrowed a load from Hugh to reload his musket. As Robert turned to resume his firing position, a musket ball streaked across the side of his head, leaving an angry red crease in his scalp. The impact of the ball with the side of his skull knocked him unconscious, and he collapsed to the wooden platform. Hugh went down on all fours to examine him and determined that he was out cold, but still alive. He thought that the musket ball had probably not done any permanent damage other than to knock Robert out.

Colonel Prescott, who was directing the Colonial army from the redoubt, soon determined that the British assault could not be stopped. Given the shortage of gunpowder and ball, they could not continue to resist the British attack.

"Men, pull back to the Charlestown Neck!" he shouted in the heat of the third attack from the British Army.

Hugh handed his and Robert's rifles to a comrade in arms and bent down to pick up the unconscious Robert by his right leg and right arm. He then hoisted Robert up on his shoulders in a dead man's carry position. He walked with Robert on his back out of the north side of the redoubt and then began to run carrying him toward the Charlestown Neck. By this time, all the militiamen who had taken firing positions in and around the redoubt were running toward the Neck. Hugh was overtaking them with the hundred and seventy pound load of Robert on his shoulders. The militiamen, who watched as Hugh passed them, were amazed at Hugh's strength and stamina as he outran them. Hugh was by far the strongest man that any of them had ever seen.

When Hugh was past the Neck, he stopped and laid Robert down beside a barn. He drew some water from the nearby well and splashed it on Robert's face to bring him around. Robert's eyes blinked open, and he looked confused about where he was and what had happened to him. He reached up and felt the crease along his skull and realized that he had been shot by the British.

"Weel, Robber, ye can stop pretending now. I know ye just wanted me to carry ye all the way back past the Neck," said Hugh.

"I guess it worked, didn't it?" Robert replied groggily, but with a smile, as he touched the crease in his scalp again.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Attention!" shouted Captain Ferguson loud enough so that all of his troops could hear him.

The green-clad rifle company of one hundred men came to attention in front of the captain. The riflemen in Captain Ferguson's company looked like elite soldiers. The regular British infantrymen wore red uniform overcoats and because of the color of their uniforms, they were often called redcoats or lobster backs by the colonists. Captain Ferguson's elite riflemen wore green coats with gold buttons. The regular riflemen wore white pants, but these soldiers wore black pants and black helmets that were normally worn only by grenadiers. Captain Ferguson had designed these new uniforms himself, and he obviously had a flair for the dramatic in uniform design. He wanted these riflemen to really stand out in the garrison and on the battlefield. The uniforms had a British Army uniform cut, but they also gave the appearance that the men who wore them were special.

The troops were special, because each of the one hundred riflemen carried a brand new breech loading Ferguson rifle. Each rifle had a crown etched on the flintlock or firelock, identifying the weapon as the property of the British Army. Any colonist captured by the British while carrying a British Army weapon was immediately hanged. For that reason, the colonists who acquired British weapons during or after a battle immediately filed the crown off the flintlock or barrel.

The green-clad riflemen were specially trained by Captain Ferguson in both the operation and maintenance of their Ferguson rifles, as well as in the fine art of marksmanship, of which Captain Ferguson was an expert. This was a very deadly group of soldiers, and their presence on the battlefield could drastically change the course of the American Revolutionary War, which was now in full swing.

"Men, we will be boarding a ship to sail to America within the next two weeks. We will be assigned to General Howe's command in the colonies. Our job will be to supplement the regular infantry forces and provide them with the additional firepower that we will bring to bear on the rebel army. Our presence on the battlefield may be the decisive factor in any engagements that we may participate in," said the captain in a raised voice so that every man could hear him.

"I want every man to give his best and make this unit proud. I want every man to act bravely and follow the orders of his superiors so that we may be victorious in battle!"

At the end of his speech, the men shouted, "Hurrah, Hurrah, and Hurrah!"

* * * *

Alex

"Captain Mackenzie, can you please take a look at this, Sir?" asked the young Maryland Ranger.

Alex, who was now clad completely in buckskins, walked over to the ranger to inspect the horse's hoof that the trooper was kneeling over and bending up so that Alex could look at it. Alex had been a Maryland Ranger for almost four years. Ellison McCoy had retired from the Rangers at the end of 1773 to move back to his original home in Baltimore so that he could be near his extended family. He had named Alex to be the unit's commander upon his retirement. Even though Alex was the youngest commander that the Maryland Rangers had ever promoted into that position, he had developed into a very effective and respected leader. It was now near the end of 1776.

"You need to have this horseshoe taken off by the blacksmith and have him put a new one on that fits better. If you don't, this mare is going to come up lame for sure," said Alex to the ranger, his hand resting on the ranger's shoulder.

"Okay, will do. I understand that you are leaving us, sir," said the ranger, changing the subject.

"That's true. I intend to enlist in the Continental Army to fight the British. I hear that they are recruiting riflemen from Delaware, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia to serve one-year enlistments," replied Alex.

"I wish you the best of luck, sir. When do you leave?"

"I have a few things to do here and in Williamsport first. I should be packing up and leaving Fort Cumberland by the end of the week," replied Alex.

"Good luck, sir."

"Thank you, Ranger, and good luck to you, too," replied Alex.

Alex was as good as his word. He saddled up his pony and packed up his belongings. He loaded them on a pack horse and rode east, starting the sixty mile journey on the trail along the banks of the Potomac River to Williamsport. He'd been over this trail many times over the last few years, but this would probably be the last time he rode it. Alex did not tarry, covering forty miles the first day. A little after noon of the second day on the trail, he rode into the outskirts of Williamsport along the main road into town.

Williamsport had grown since the first time he had seen it from the deck of the ferry that he jumped onto with the Longhunter, narrowly escaping the Iroquois warriors that were chasing them. There were now a few buildings on the west bank of the Potomac River, where there had been none before. The dry goods store where Martha worked for her uncle and aunt had expanded and was stocked with more supplies than ever before. She, her uncle Sean, and her aunt, were very busy these days as the number of customers multiplied. The town's population had exploded to service a constant stream of settlers traveling The Great Wagon Road and using the Watkins Ferry.

Alex rode up the main trail through town and reined up at the hitching rail in front of the dry goods store. Looking out the front store window, Martha saw him ride up to the store and dismount. At once, she was out the door, down the steps, and into his arms before he could complete tying his horse reins to the rail.

"Alex, I didn't expect you," said Martha, as she kissed him passionately right out in front of everyone on the main road.

"Hello Martha. Did you miss me?" stammered Alex between kisses.

"You know better than that," said Martha standing back to take a closer look at Alex while holding him at arm's length.

"What are you doing in Williamsport?"

"I wanted to see you," replied Alex.

"I know you wanted to see me. What else brings you to town?"

"Do I have to have a reason other than to see you?"

"I know you, Alexander Mackenzie, and I can tell that there's probably something else that brings you to town."

"Well, you're right. I may not be seeing you for a while."

"Why not?" asked Martha with a frown.

"I have resigned from the Maryland Rangers and decided to join the Continental Army to fight the British."

"I see," said Martha, as she looked down at her feet.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" asked Martha, looking up into Alex's eyes.

"I've thought about it a lot and if we don't get ourselves free of British rule, this place is going to turn into something like Scotland or England. I've been there and seen what it's like. This war is all about the freedom to choose and the ability to make our own decisions."

"I see you have thought about it and feel strongly about it."

"Well, I have and there's no stopping me, but there are two things I need to do before I leave," said Alex.

"I know what one of them is, but what's the other one?" asked Martha with a wink.

Alex just smiled in response as he held her in his arms and whispered in her ear, "I think you will like it. I hope so anyway."

Alex had been saving his money, so he decided to stay in Williamsport for a few weeks before he left to join the Continental Army.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Robber, I thought that adder we won the battle up in Boston, and the British got on their ships and high tailed it, we had them on the run. But they beat us in New York. How exactly did that happen?" asked Hugh.

"Well Hugh, what I can say is that sometimes war is unpredictable," replied Robert.

"I know that, but I just didn't expect the tide to turn so soon."

"Hugh, we lost at Bunker Hill before the British left, if you will remember," said Robert, holding back his hair and showing Hugh the scar that the British musket ball had made across his scalp.

"Aye, Robber, I remember it. After the British left Boston, and we freed the city, General Washington thought they might try to come back and take New York. So we marched down to New York and set up our defenses. Exactly how did they beat us in New York anyway?"

"Well, Hugh, I heard that the British out-flanked us by bringing most of their troops around behind us. That's how they had us surrounded at Brooklyn Heights. If you remember, we had the East River to our backs. Our only escape was to cross the river into Manhattan at night."

"Yes, I know we had to be very quiet to escape. One of my jobs was to help muffle some of the wagon wheels. I remember that we were forbidden to talk during the trek and ferry ride o'er to Manhattan that night."

"Do you also remember that the British chased us and beat us again at White Plains and also at Fort Washington after that?"

"I do," replied Hugh.

"Now we're being chased across New Jersey as we retreat southwest."

"Where do ye think we are going now?" asked Hugh.

"I heard that we're headed for a winter camp in Pennsylvania just across the Delaware River from Trenton, New Jersey."

"Weel, I hope it's a nice camp with a nice warm fire. By the by, this is the longest conversation that I've had with ye in some time."

Robert just nodded.

* * * *

Alex

"Can you tell me where the army headquarters is located?" asked Alex.

He had been stopped by the first sentry on the trail that he encountered as he approached the bivouac where the Continental Army was camped.

"Keep heading toward the smoke," answered the sleepy and surly sentry, pointing toward the way Alex was already going.

Discipline obviously wasn't too important in this army, thought Alex. There wasn't much of a challenge, and the sentry didn't even ask him what he wanted at the headquarters. Maybe he wanted to kill somebody. He didn't, of course, but Alex thought that a sentry might question him a bit about what he wanted. Maybe the sentry didn't like buckskins, which Alex had gotten used to wearing in the Maryland Rangers.

The Continental Army had driven the British out of Boston, which ended the siege and freed the city. The war had shifted from Massachusetts to New York and then to New Jersey. Alex had spent several weeks with Martha in Williamsport and had finally left to join the Continental Army, if he could find it. He traveled north asking questions of anyone he met on the trail. He finally located the army in Pennsylvania, just to the west across the river from Trenton, New Jersey. The Continental Army was now commanded by General George Washington, who had taken charge of it in Boston during the siege. The army had not been very successful against the British since they had pushed them out of Boston. The patriots had lost most of the battles that they had fought against the British in New York and New Jersey. Now they had pulled back across the Delaware River to regroup and come up with a new battle plan.

After General Sir William Howe had defeated the Continental Army at the Battle of New York City, he had pursued them across New Jersey in their retreat. Fortunately for the Continental Army, Howe ordered a halt in the pursuit. He commanded his army to retire into winter quarters, after creating a series of defensive outposts across northern New Jersey in order to keep the Continental Army bottled up across the Delaware River. Howe himself retreated to Philadelphia. A Hessian unit consisting of fifteen hundred men was garrisoned at Trenton, a small town of about one hundred houses located on the east bank of the Delaware River. The Hessians were Prussian soldiers that had been hired by King George to fight for the British against the Continental Army.

It was a cold and windy December day when Alex rode into the camp of the Continental Army on the east bank of the Delaware.

"Report to the adjutant if you want to join up," said the militiaman.

"Where can I find him?" asked Alex.

"He's located over in the big tent beside the grove," said the militiaman pointing toward the tent.

Alex had ridden into the Continental Army camp and asked the first soldier he saw where he could sign up to join the army. He walked his horse over to the big tent, dismounted, pulled up the tent flap and walked inside. It was a large tent that was divided into a small outer office and a much larger inner office with a partition between them. As Alex walked into the outer office, he spied the adjutant sitting behind a desk with his head down writing in a ledger. Alex walked over to the adjutant's desk and stood in front of it. All he could see was the top of the adjutant's head, but the adjutant looked a little familiar to Alex. He thought he might have seen him or met him somewhere before.

"Sir, are you the adjutant?" asked Alex.

"That I am, laddie" said Samuel Ruskin, Alex's old nemesis, looking up from his muster roll ledger to scowl at Alex.

"What would a young Caledonian laddie like you want with the adjutant?" asked Samuel in a surly tone.

As soon as Samuel looked up at him, Alex recognized him from his encounters with him back in Larne at a dockside tavern and on the Ocean Monarch while sailing to America. Alex instinctively reached for his boot knife but stopped just before he pulled it and stood back up.

Samuel Ruskin had caught a glimpse of Alex when he first pulled the tent flap back to enter his office and instantly remembered him from their previous encounters. Samuel's Pennsylvania militia had joined the Continental Army prior to the New York campaign. Since he was already a major and a successful merchant, he was given the job of adjutant to General George Washington. He had been serving in that capacity for some time. The adjutant was the officer that handled all of General Washington's administrative duties such as enlistments, drafting orders, filling out supply requests, processing promotions, and other such duties. Samuel Ruskin stood up, facing Alex from across the desk, and the two men glared at each other without saying a word.

At that moment, the tent flap behind Major Ruskin was parted and two men stepped out of the larger inner office located behind the adjutant. Samuel turned around to look at the men, and Alex glanced over at them at the same time. One of the men was General George Washington and the other one was Ellison McCoy, the former Captain of the Maryland Rangers who had hired Alex and then promoted him into that position when Ellison left to retire. Ellison spied Alex and walked over to intercept him, shaking his hand heartily and patting him on the back.

"Hello Alex, I'm glad to see you again. What are you doing here?"

"I came to enlist in the Continental Army."

"Come over here with me. There is someone I would like to introduce you to."

He then led Alex over to General George Washington, who was standing behind Samuel Ruskin, observing the conversation.

"Alex, I would like for you to meet General George Washington," said Ellison.

"It is an honor to meet you, sir," said Alex, extending his hand and shaking hands with General Washington.

"The pleasure is all mine," replied the amiable general.

"I selected Alex to replace me as head of the Fort Cumberland Maryland Rangers when I retired," said Ellison to General Washington.

"I wonder if this might be the man we're looking for, Ellison?" asked General Washington.

"There's no doubt that he could do the job," answered Ellison.

Alex eyed Ellison and General Washington with a puzzled look; he had no idea what the two men were talking about. Samuel was also confused and the uncertainty served to defuse the situation between Alex and Samuel as they both put the conflict in the back of their minds. Alex scratched his head, and Samuel sat back down in his chair.

"Come back into my office, and let's all discuss it. Please excuse us for a moment, Major Ruskin," said General Washington as he raised the tent divider and led Ellison and Alex back into his office, closing the tent divider after they entered.

"Please have a seat, gentlemen," said the general.

Alex looked around General Washington's office and decided that it was fairly spartan for the leader of the Continental Army. It contained a small portable field desk positioned to one side near the rear of the tent. In the middle of the office was a large folding conference table with a dozen or so worn chairs around it. General Washington seated himself at his field desk and Alex and Ellison sat down in two of the side chairs beside the desk. Alex obviously had no idea what Ellison and the general were talking about in the adjutant's office. But he was willing to hear them out.

"I understand that you want to join the army?" asked the general, looking at Alex.

"Yes, sir," replied Alex.

"Captain McCoy and I have decided to start a new unit in the Continental Army. It's going to be a light cavalry unit that consists a few men that know how to ride and shoot and aren't afraid to take a risk. This unit will be used for special operations and scouting missions. It will also be used for other tasks, such as blocking the enemy's retreat or opposing enemy resistance. Based on your experience with the Maryland Rangers and Ellison's recommendation, are you interested in leading this group for me?" asked General Washington, speaking directly to Alex.

"I would be honored to serve in that capacity, if you will let me wear my buckskins," said the smiling Alex.

"Excellent. Welcome to the army, and I think that the buckskins will be a fine uniform for a light cavalry unit," said General Washington, standing up and reaching out to shake hands with Alex again.

"As your first task, I want you to search among the members of the army in this encampment and select up to ten good men who own a horse and are willing to join your unit. On your way out, tell the adjutant that you are joining the army as a lieutenant in charge of the First Continental Cavalry."

"Yes, sir, thank you very much, sir," replied Alex.

"I'll walk out with you, Alex, and explain things to the adjutant, since I was just leaving anyway," said Ellison.

Alex and Ellison stood up and both of them said goodbye to General Washington in parting. Ellison lifted the tent flap, and they walked out into the adjutant's office. Ellison talked to Samuel Ruskin and gave him instructions about Alex's enlistment and rank while Alex stood off to one side and stared at Samuel. Alex was extremely concerned about Samuel Ruskin, but he was in no position to do anything about it yet. So he decided to wait and see what would happen. As soon as Ellison was finished talking to Samuel about Alex, the two friends walked out of the tent and closed the tent flap behind them.

"Ellison, I have run across Samuel Ruskin before, and it wasn't a pleasant experience," said Alex once they were out of earshot of Samuel and the tent.

"Well, he's been in the job for a quite a while. He joined up right after the siege of Boston when we were in New York, and he's done a good job for General Washington so far," replied Ellison.

"I don't trust him," said Alex.

"We'll keep an eye on him. That's all we can do now. Let's get you settled into a place to camp," said Ellison as the two men walked further into the encampment, leading their horses away from the tent and then mounting up to ride.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Weel, Robber, what do ye think of our bonny new camp?" asked Hugh in his mild Scottish brogue, which had abated some since they arrived in America.

Robert shrugged, giving Hugh a noncommittal answer and a quick glance. He noticed that Hugh was losing his Scottish accent. He suspected that Hugh's association with British, Irish, and other nationalities, had softened his brogue over the years in America. The two brothers were bundled up in blankets, trying to keep warm inside a tent with its flaps tied down securely on a cold, windy December day. They had rags tied around their ears to help them keep warm from the howling wind outside the tent.

The cold, windy bivouac area was designated for the Second Massachusetts Militia or the "Second Mass" as all the troops called it. It was a part of the Continental Army under General George Washington, now camped across the Delaware River from Trenton, New Jersey. The weather was blustery, but there was no sign of any precipitation yet. Robert had fully recovered from the head wound that he had received from a British musket ball at Breeds Hill. There was still a part in his hair where the musket ball had creased his scalp, but his hair had grown out and now covered the scar. When he was riding or if it was windy, his hair blew back, and you could still see the scar, making him look like a grizzled, old war veteran.

A fire that they had lit outside the tent did not provide enough warmth for them to keep it going. So they had let it go out and huddled inside the tent to stay out of the weather and to try to stay as warm as they could. Robert soon dropped off to sleep, and Hugh began talking with Big Mike Finn from Philadelphia, who had recently joined their unit. Mike would have joined a Pennsylvania unit instead of a Massachusetts unit, but he accidently stood in the wrong enlistment line. He was too bull-headed to admit his mistake and correct it. So, he stayed with the Second Mass. Robert and Hugh took a liking to Big Mike as soon as they met him, and he got along well with the two brothers. The three friends made a good fighting team.

Just outside their tent, two mounted riders with their collars turned up against the cold wind slowly rode past. The two brothers inside had no way of knowing that one of the horsemen outside their tent was their younger brother Alex and the other was Ellison McCoy, the two men in search of a place for Alex to settle for the night.

Alex and Ellison rode through the Massachusetts camp and soon arrived at the camp of the Maryland militia, about a quarter mile past the Second Mass camp. After some deliberation, they decided that Alex could stay in the tent with Ellison until he could find a place for himself. The two men dismounted, walked their horses to Ellison's tent, and were pulling off their saddles when they were interrupted.

"Weel, if it isn't the young March Hare from Scotland," said the voice coming from behind them.

"I recognize that voice," said Alex as he looked up and turned around to face his old friend, the Longhunter, Alexander Glendenning. The two men shook hands heartily and then embraced each other while patting each other on the back.

"It is good to see you again, Alexander. How's the shoulder holding up? I know it was giving you a bit of trouble the last time we met. And how'd you know my nickname anyway?" asked Alex.

"The shoulder's fine, as good as new. Word gets around about Alex Mackenzie and his exploits," said the Longhunter as he rubbed his hand across his shoulder.

"The last I heard, ye were heading up the Maryland Rangers after Ellison here had retired," continued the Longhunter nodding toward Ellison McCoy.

"That's true, but the war has taken Ellison out of retirement and me out of the Rangers," said Alex, gesturing at Ellison briefly.

"It has taken me, too. I have just arrived here and joined up this week. I'm still wondering if I did the right thing."

"I'm forming a new light cavalry unit for General Washington, and I'd like to have your help," said Alex.

"I'd be glad to do anything I can fer ye, Alex."

"Good, I want you to help me lead the unit and help me recruit some other good riders and fighters to go along with us."

"I know of a few in the camp. Most of them are former Maryland Rangers. Ye know most of them that have served with ye at Fort Cumberland."

"Excellent! This is not going to be as hard as I thought. It's really great to see you again, Alexander. We're going to help General Washington win this war," said Alex.

* * * *

Samuel

Samuel closed out his muster roll for the day, along with his other paper work, as was required by the office of the adjutant of the Continental Army. He put the papers in a desk drawer and locked his desk. Standing up, he pulled on his overcoat and walked out of the headquarters tent. Instead of going directly back to the tent where he lived, he walked through the cold camp to a section near the outskirts, where the camp followers were located. He walked right to the tent he was looking for and without any announcement, he pulled back the tent flap and walked in.

"Get yer clothes off quick; I'm in a hurry," said Samuel to the young woman sitting on the camp cot inside the tent, staring at him. Without saying a word, the young woman quickly disrobed and lay back on the cot. Samuel unlaced his pants as he walked over to the cot. He slid them down to his knees and crawled on top of the young woman.

It didn't take but a few minutes, and when he was finished, he crawled off her, stood up and pulled up his pants to lace them back up.

"Get yer clothes back on. I got a job for you tonight," said Samuel as he finished lacing up his pants.

"I want you to go over to Trenton right now and tell the Hessian commander Colonel Rahl that the Prophet says Washington does not plan to attack right away. Tell him that the Prophet doesn't know exactly when Washington plans on attacking, but it looks like it won't happen soon."

"It's cold out there tonight, Sir. Can't this wait until tomorrow?" asked the girl.

"No, it can't wait. Get moving now and don't forget to tell Colonel Rahl that the message is from the Prophet," said Samuel with a scowl.

The young woman, whose name was Molly, dressed hurriedly and threw on her cloak and then braced herself for the cold wind outside the tent.

"If you ever want to see yer sister Maggie again, you'll be quick about it," continued Samuel as he kicked her in the backside just as she was walking past him out of the tent.

Samuel left the tent at the same time Molly did and walked back to his tent, occasionally glancing at her as she left the camp at a hurried pace.

Molly trotted out of the camp and then walked very fast on the trail to the Delaware River. She crossed it on the Trenton Ferry after paying her halfpenny toll. Then she wound her way on the path into Trenton and finally found the Hessian headquarters where Colonel Rahl was located. Colonel Rahl's aides intercepted her as she attempted to walk into Colonel Rahl's office.

"I bear a message from the Prophet," said Molly to one of the aides.

Upon hearing that the message was from the Prophet, the aide immediately ushered her into Colonel Rahl's office. The colonel looked up from writing a letter as she and his aide walked in. Colonel Rahl did not speak English and refused to learn it, so he spoke to his aide in German, asking him to stay in the office and to translate his conversation with the girl.

"What is it that you wish to say to the colonel?" asked the aide.

"The Prophet says that General Washington will not attack anytime soon and that he doesn't know when the general is planning on attacking," said the young woman.

"Anything else?" asked the aide after he had translated the message to Colonel Rahl.

"No, that was all he said to deliver," replied the girl.

"Very well, you may go now," said the aide.

Molly spoke German, but she preferred to speak English in her new country. She did not tell them that she spoke German. But she knew that the aide had translated her English into German correctly.

She immediately left the headquarters and made her way back across the ferry and into her tent in the Continental Army camp. Molly sat down on her cot and cried softly with her head in her hands. She felt sad about being forced to deliver the messages for Major Ruskin, but she had no choice. She wasn't a traitor; she believed in the patriot's cause, but she didn't want her sister Maggie to suffer. She and her sister had been caught trying to steal some food from one of Samuel Ruskin's warehouses in Philadelphia. Rather than turn them over to the authorities, Samuel had kept them as personal servants, but truly as prisoners, in his household to do his bidding and whatever else he saw fit for them to do. For now, Molly was being forced to stay in the camp followers' tents, ready at any time carry messages for Ruskin and satisfy his base desires. Her sister, meanwhile, was back in Philadelphia, held captive in Ruskin's warehouse under threat of bodily harm if Molly did not perform satisfactorily.

"What do you make of that information and how much do you trust this person who calls himself the Prophet?" Colonel Rahl asked his aide.

"It appears that the Americans want to take time off from the war and celebrate the Christmas holidays. I have no idea about the Prophet, but I think we should be prepared in case he is wrong," replied the aide.

"I disagree. The Americans are poor soldiers and they are lazy. They will not attack in this kind of weather anyway. Let's celebrate the holiday also. Call in the patrols, and we'll plan a big Yuletide celebration for the men," said the colonel.

"Very well, Sir; I will see to it," replied the aide.

As the aide turned to walk out of the colonel's office, he grimaced to himself but was unwilling to argue with his commanding officer.

* * * *

* * * *

Alex

"Good morning gentlemen. The reason I called you into this war council so early this morning is to announce that we are going to attack the Hessian troops in Trenton tomorrow morning. My plan is that the army will depart the camp this afternoon in order to cross the Delaware River and attack the Hessians in Trenton at first light tomorrow morning. Please make preparations for each soldier to carry three days rations, sixty rounds of ammunition, powder, and other necessary supplies. We will muster on the west bank of the Delaware River nine miles north of the camp at dusk. We will cross the river by barge as soon as it is fully dark," said General Washington when all his officers were finally seated around the large folding conference table in his field office.

The general paused for his message to sink in as he made eye contact with each officer around the table. It was December 25, 1776, and the weather was cold and threatening, but no precipitation had yet fallen from the cloudy sky.

"Sir, I must protest. Today is Christmas Day, and the men have been planning on celebrating Christmas tonight. That doesn't give me time to prepare the rations, ammunition, and all other items that are necessary to move this army. As adjutant, I require more time to organize and prepare," said Major Samuel Ruskin.

"Major Ruskin, you will have to do the best you can because we leave at three o'clock this afternoon, and we attack tomorrow morning. Let's hope that the Hessian troops occupying Trenton have a very loud and boisterous Christmas celebration tonight and that they drink plenty of Christmas spirits. Maybe if we are lucky, they will still be feeling the effects of their celebration tomorrow morning when we attack. Make ready to muster on the west bank of the Delaware River at dusk. I will give specific orders for each unit's deployment later in the day. That is all for now. Let's get to it," stated General Washington, dismissing his men and walking toward his field desk, where he started preparing troop disposition and battle orders.

As the officers on General Washington's staff and command stood up to leave the conference, General Washington turned to seek out Alex and Ellison McCoy.
"Lieutenant Mackenzie and Captain McCoy, please wait a moment. I would like to speak with you before you leave," said General Washington as his officers were filing out of his office.

Alex and Ellison stood by their chairs while the conference room cleared. As soon as the last man left, General Washington stepped over to the tent flap and glanced into the outer office to make sure that no one was within earshot of the conference room in the large office. Major Samuel Ruskin had taken his accustomed position behind his desk in the outer office. General Washington motioned for Alex and Ellison to take a seat in two side chairs next to his desk on the far side of his office. The general wanted to speak to the two men without being overheard outside his office. General Washington seated himself in his desk chair and scooted it over to be nearer to where Alex and Ellison were seated. He leaned close to the two men to speak in a hushed voice that was almost a whisper.

"I suspect that we have a spy in our midst. I have no idea who it is, and I don't suspect anyone in particular, but the enemy seems to know our every move, sometimes even before our own soldiers do. Our New York and New Jersey campaigns were one disaster after another. There appears to be no good reason for it except that the enemy had advance knowledge of our plans and movements. That is one of the reasons why I have ordered this surprise attack and given everyone very little time for preparation. I don't want the British to get wind of the attack before we spring it this time. The reason that I am telling you two and only you two about this is that I trust you. The reason why I trust you is because I began to suspect the traitor long before you two joined the army. After this attack is over, I want the two of you to ferret out this spy by any means that you can and dispose of him," said General Washington as he stared at Alex and Ellison.

"Changing the subject back to the attack tomorrow morning, Lieutenant Mackenzie, I want you to take your men this morning and depart the camp as soon as possible. First ride south for at least a mile along the Delaware River road. Cross the river well south of the Trenton Ferry where no one will see you cross. Then take up a concealed position at the Assunpink Creek Bridge on the Bordentown Road south of Trenton. I want you to cut off the enemy's retreat to the south along the Bordentown Road. Set your riflemen where they will do the most good. General James Ewing will follow you after it is dark with seven hundred militiamen. They will cross the river using the Trenton Ferry and approach your position at the bridge from the north. He will relieve you and your men as soon as he arrives at the bridge," continued General Washington.

"The password for this attack is 'Victory or Death'. From the time you arrive at the bridge, let no man, woman, or animal pass over the bridge without the correct password. Good luck and God grant us a victory," concluded General Washington as he stood up and held out his hand to shake with Alex and Ellison.

"Sir, we will carry out your orders," said Alex as he and Ellison stood up, shook hands with General Washington, and walked out of his tent.

* * * *

Samuel

As soon as Samuel left the council of war meeting with General Washington, he immediately went to work at his desk, taking care of the most pressing issues associated with preparing for the attack. It was late in the afternoon when the army was just beginning to leave camp that he was able to free himself briefly from his duties and walk to the camp followers' tents.

As soon as he opened the flap of the young woman's tent, Molly immediately stood up and started to disrobe.

"I don't have time for that right now and neither do you," said Samuel to the young woman, who immediately stopped disrobing and looked relieved.

"Put on your cloak and take another message to Colonel Rahl from the Prophet immediately. Go tell him that the Prophet says Washington is mounting a surprise attack on his position in Trenton at first light tomorrow morning. The colonel should be prepared for the attack from the north of Trenton. I want you to leave right now and travel south out of the camp. Cross the Delaware south of the Trenton Ferry because the ferry will be guarded, and you can't use it to cross. After you cross the river, go east until you find the Bordentown Road. Travel north on the road as it will lead you into Trenton. That way you won't be observed by any of Washington's troops, who will be deployed north of Trenton or guarding the ferry. Leave now while it's still light," said Samuel.

"Yes, sir," said Molly.

Molly threw on her cloak and hurried out of the tent to carry out her orders. When she walked out of the tent, Samuel followed her out, turned in the opposite direction, and hurried back into the army camp to complete the remainder of his duties.

Molly walked south along the west bank River Road out of the camp until she was almost a mile south of the Trenton Ferry. Then she turned toward the river and searched the western bank for a way across. She soon found a canoe that a settler had tied up to a tree, so she untied it to paddle across the Delaware River. She saw a number of fresh horse tracks along the western bank, where it looked like a number of riders had ridden their horses into the water and swum them across the river. When she reached the eastern bank, she pulled the canoe up as far as she could on the bank. She then walked east until she found the Bordentown Road and followed it north toward Trenton.

By the time she approached Trenton, it was fully dark and the cold weather had taken a turn for the worse. There was a cold rain falling that looked like it would turn to sleet as soon as the falling temperature got low enough. Molly shrugged at her fate and pulled her cloak tighter around her neck as she walked north on the Bordentown Road toward Trenton. As soon as she got near the Assunpink Creek Bridge, a voice called out in the dark.

"Halt! Who goes there?" said the bodiless voice.

"It's just me going into Trenton," replied the startled Molly as she stopped walking and looked around to see if she could tell where the voice was coming from. But she couldn't see anyone in the dark.

"What's the password?" asked the voice.

The girl was flustered; she had no idea what the password was and why someone was even asking. She thought that the voice asking her questions might be coming from one of the Hessian or British troops who had been assigned guard duty at the bridge. So, she replied with the only thing that came to mind.

"I have a message from the Prophet," said Molly.

Alex stepped out of the darkness to stand right behind her. As she turned to look at him, he reached out his hand and grasped her by her arm.

"Who is the Prophet?" asked Alex.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Weel, it looks like a wee bit o' winter blowing in now," said Hugh grinning at Robert.

The weather had in fact gone from bad to much worse. The temperature was now below freezing, and it was beginning to sleet. The cold rain that had fallen earlier in the evening had now caused everything to be covered with a thin coat of ice under the sleet that was beginning to pile up on the ground. Conditions couldn't be more miserable for being outside in the weather.

Robert glanced at Hugh and then turned back to look where he was going. Robert and Hugh were marching at the head of the Second Mass toward a rally point about nine miles north of Trenton, where they would be ferried across the Delaware River. It was dark, and they were supposed to be across the river by midnight. But the foul weather had slowed the march, and they were behind schedule.

When they arrived at the Delaware River crossing point, the boats that were supposed to carry them across were nowhere in sight. General Washington dispatched riders to locate the boats, which were soon found a short distance up river. By the time they got the boats in position, they were even further behind schedule.

Robert and Hugh huddled with the rest of the men waiting to board the boats for the short trip across the river. When they finally received the command to board the barges, Robert and Hugh were among the last on board the first barge and helped the boatmen push it off into the river.

"I always love a boat ride in the winter," joked Hugh as a large ice flow bumped into their barge and almost capsized it.

The men in the boat, who at first laughed softly at Hugh's joke, now were quiet and worried about the crossing. The boat ride was brief and cold, but they made it safely across the river. Finally, by four o'clock in the morning on the day after Christmas, all the troops were across the river and on their way to attack the Hessians in Trenton. The Continental Army was marching northeast from the river, fighting the cold wind blowing from the north. The earlier sleet had now turned into a snow as the temperature continued to drop. The ground was slippery but at least it was level. Some of the men didn't have boots or shoes and had wrapped and tied their feet in rags and strips of blankets. Their feet soon suffered frostbite and began to bleed, leaving a dark red blood trail in the snow.

After about two miles of marching, they found the River Road that runs south past Bear Tavern into Trenton, so the army wheeled right and marched along the River Road south. They were able to make better time toward Trenton on the road and arrived a few miles north of Trenton before it was fully light. At this point, the army was split into two groups. One group turned east to follow a trail to locate the Pennington Road and then follow it south into Trenton. The other group, commanded by General Sullivan, continued along the River Road directly south toward Trenton.

Robert and Hugh were at the front of the group of men that included Big Mike Finn and that had traveled east toward the Pennington Road. They located the Pennington Road and the army turned south to follow it into Trenton. They were among the first to encounter the enemy. The Second Mass commander had asked Robert and Hugh to lead the army because they were the best fighters and bravest men in the militia. Just as the rising sun was peeking above the trees, the patriots arrived at a Hessian outpost set up in a cooper's shop one mile north of Trenton. The Hessian commander of the outpost walked outside to see what was making all the noise coming down the road so early in the morning. When the commander walked out into the road and turned to look at the advancing army, Hugh dropped down on to one knee, raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired a musket ball into the officer's chest, dropping him dead into the middle of the road.

"That will tell 'em what we're about," said Hugh.

The Hessian troops in the outpost returned fire, but there were too many Americans. Soon the Hessian began to retreat, stopping to fire occasionally as they fell back toward Trenton. Robert and Hugh had developed a fighting system where Hugh would advance and fire while Robert reloaded, and then Robert would advance and fire while Hugh reloaded. They employed this leap frog tactic all the way to Trenton, firing at the retreating Hessians.

When they arrived at the first houses of Trenton proper, they formed up their units to make their final assault on the main body of the Hessian troops in Trenton.

* * * *

Alex

"Please sir, you must let me go," the girl had cried, gently sobbing.

"No one will harm you," said Alex.

"Sir, you must let me go. If I don't get into Trenton, my sister will die," said Molly between sobs.

Alex didn't really know what to make of the situation, and he had no idea what the girl was talking about. He had never seen the girl before. So he had led her by the arm back down the Bordentown Road away from Trenton. They walked off the road into a small depression behind a copse, where the men had built a small sheltered fire that could not be seen from the road. The men in Alex's unit, including the Longhunter, were rotating the watch on the bridge. Those that were off duty were warming themselves by the fire, drinking hot tea, or trying to get some sleep. When Alex walked up with the girl in hand, the men all stood up to look at them.

"Could you men give us a minute?" asked Alex, indicating that he wanted to talk to the girl alone.

"We'll scout up and down the road," replied the Longhunter as the grabbed his rifle.

The other men nodded and walked off toward the bridge to join the watch or to go with the Longhunter. Alex poured the girl a cup of hot tea and sat her down on one of the saddles near the fire so that she could warm herself on this cold, windy night. After the girl drank some of the tea and composed herself, Alex sat down on a saddle next to her.

"What's your name?" asked Alex.

The young woman just sat silently looking down.

"You're going to stay here until you talk to me. Again, who or what is the Prophet?" asked Alex.

"I can't tell you, sir."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Because if I tell you, my sister will be killed."

"Why were you going to Trenton?"

"I can't tell you, sir."

"I know, if you do, your sister will be killed, right?"

"Yes, sir," said the girl, looking down.

"What was the message that you are supposed to deliver?"

Molly remained silent and Alex let the silence draw out in hopes that she would reconsider, but after repeated questioning, it soon was apparent that the girl was not going to talk.

"Look, Miss, I want to help you, really I do, but I can't help you if you won't tell me what is going on," said Alex, pausing to see if that had any effect on the girl.

"If you tell me the whole story, I promise that I will help you and your sister out of any situation that you and she have gotten into," continued Alex.

Alex tried to get the girl to talk to him for another two hours, but Molly refused to speak another word. Her silence was frustrating, but in the end Alex had no choice, so he let her go. He did not allow her to go into Trenton, but turned her back the way she had come.

As soon as she was free from Alex, Molly hurried down the Bordentown Road to where she had intercepted it a few hours earlier. From there she turned and walked west toward the river. It did not take her long to find the canoe that she had pulled up on the bank.

It was bitterly cold and the snow made it difficult, but she finally managed to launch the canoe and paddle it across the river. She tied the canoe back up to the tree where she thought she had found it. Pulling her cloak up tighter around her shoulders, she marched through the snow back to the army camp and into her tent. She crawled into her cot and under the blankets without taking her cloak off and cried herself to sleep.

Alex knew that he was onto something, but he had no idea what it was or how to capitalize on it. The girl could not have gone far. He knew that he could probably find her again if he wanted to.

The night wore on without anyone else trying to cross the bridge, and soon the sun was beginning to lighten the eastern sky. Alex was still thinking about the girl when a disturbance brought him out of his reverie. One of his men ran up to him and asked him to go with him to the bridge. When Alex arrived at the bridge, he found that his men were on high alert because a large body of men was approaching the bridge from the north. As soon as the advance guard approached the bridge and was near enough to be within hailing distance, the Longhunter challenged them.

"Halt, who goes there!" shouted the Longhunter.

"It's General Sullivan's Fifth Pennsylvania Rifles!" shouted one of the advancing riflemen.

"What's the password?" replied the Longhunter.

"Victory or Death," answered the rifleman.

"Advance and be recognized," said the Longhunter.

General Sullivan himself soon arrived at the bridge and relieved Alex and his men from holding it.

"My men can take over holding the bridge," said the general.

"I thought General Ewing was supposed to relieve me," said Alex.

"The bad weather prevented General Ewing from making the crossing. He and his troops are stuck on the west bank. I was unopposed on the River Road from north of Trenton all the way to this bridge. I intend to leave a detachment of men here to hold the bridge to cut off the enemy's escape. I will attack the Hessians from the south at the same time Washington and the main army attacks them from the north," said General Sullivan.

"You don't mind if my men and I join in on the fun, do you General?" asked Alex.

"Be my guest," replied the general.

Alex mounted up his troops and positioned them on the eastern flank of General Sullivan's troops. Together they rode toward Trenton, back along the same River Road that General Sullivan had traveled to arrive at the bridge.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Robber, don't ye think we are getting out a wee bit far in front o' the main army?" asked Hugh.

The main body of General Washington's army was stalled on the north side of Trenton after encountering cannon fire from the Hessians. Robert and Hugh, along with Big Mike Finn and three other men, were trying to capture those Hessian cannons. They had run ahead of the main body of troops at a trot, moving toward the cannons as fast as they could. The six patriots soon closed with the Hessian troops guarding the cannons. After a brief struggle, they captured the cannons by killing the guards and driving off the Hessian cannoneers. The six soldiers then turned the cannons around and began firing them at the retreating Hessians.

As soon as General Washington saw that Robert, Hugh, Big Mike, and the three other soldiers had captured the cannons, he ordered his army to resume their advance toward the Hessians. The six men were having a tough time holding the cannons and keeping them in action against the Hessians, who were determined to get them back. The struggle had been reduced from gunpowder to bayonets and finally to knife fighting and hand-to-hand combat.

The Hessians mounted a counterattack on the cannons using twelve men who rushed the cannon positions in an attempt to retake them. Robert, Hugh and their comrades were outnumbered two to one and were sorely pressed fighting off the Hessians. Big Mike and Hugh were holding their own against three times their number in hand-to-hand combat. Hugh was powerful in hand-to-hand struggles, and Big Mike was almost his match, but much more compact and efficient in his movements. They made a great fighting team as they fought side-by-side near the front of the small force.

"Hugh, do ye think these bloody Prussians have had enough yet?" asked the panting Big Mike.

"Nae, lad, they act like they're just getting started," replied Hugh.

* * * *

Alex

Alex, the Longhunter and his cavalrymen were riding north at a trot along the River Road just west of Trenton when they heard the sounds of battle coming from the streets inside the town. Alex turned his horse east toward the battle sounds and his men followed. He began to pick up the pace as he neared the heart of the battle, and by the time he could see the fighting, he and his men were riding at a gallop.

Alex saw from horseback that a few of the American troops had captured some Hessian cannons on King Street on the north side of Trenton. Alex could also see that the Hessians were mounting a counterattack on the cannon position. It looked like the Hessians were just about to retake their cannons from the six Americans who had captured them. Alex bent low over his horse's neck and galloped at full speed toward the mounting melee. When Alex got close enough to the fighters around the cannons, he leapt from his saddle head first, directly into the mass of attacking Hessians troops, taking six of them to the ground with him. The collision knocked the breath out of Alex and badly injured a number of the Hessians. Alex's leap into the foray had broken their fighting spirit and stopped the Hessian counterattack.

That was all that the six patriots needed to drive off or kill the rest of the attacking Hessians. Alex's men arrived at the battle right behind him to help the Americans clean out any of the remaining Hessians from around the cannons.

"Who was that daft lad who jumped off his horse at full speed right into the middle of the Hessians?" Hugh asked no one in particular.

"That daft lad would be me," said Alex as he finally caught his breath and got up off the ground to stand up and face the surprised Hugh.

"Alex, lad, I thought that looked like it might have been ye when I caught a glimpse oot o' the corner o' me eye, just by the way ye rode," shouted Hugh, embracing Alex in a bear hug with a huge grin.

"Robber, come here and look see at the March Hare that I found," shouted Hugh motioning for Robert to come over and join him.

"Alex, lad it is good to see you again, finally. We looked for you as soon as we arrived in America, but could find no trace of you," said Robert.

"It is good to see you, too," said Alex, "but there'll be time to discuss all that and catch up later. Let's see if we can finish this battle first."

With that, the three brothers grabbed their rifles and charged into the main body of the Hessians like madmen. The rest of the battle went badly for the Hessians. The attack from the north by General Washington and the simultaneous attack from the south by General Sullivan was more than the Hessians could withstand. They tried to retreat over the Assunpink Creek Bridge, but were blocked by the detachment that General Sullivan had left there. So they were finally funneled into an orchard just outside Trenton. They were quickly surrounded there, and having no other options, they were forced to surrender.

Colonel Rahl had been mortally wounded during the battle and died later that day at his headquarters in Trenton. It was a complete victory for General Washington and the Americans. With a number of his troops still stranded on the west bank of the Delaware River, Washington knew that he couldn't hold Trenton or immediately attack any of the other British outposts in New Jersey. So he moved all his troops back across the river into Pennsylvania. They took their prisoners and captured supplies with them back to their winter camp on the west bank of the Delaware.

* * * *

Samuel

"Did you give my message to Colonel Rahl and tell him it was from the Prophet?" asked Samuel, standing in the young woman's tent with the tent flap closed and his hands on his hips.

"Yes I did, sir," Molly lied.

"Did he have any comments or send a message to me in return?"

"He did not, Sir."

"Are you sure that you gave him the message just as I told it to you?"

"Yes, sir, I gave him the message word for word."

"It's odd how he was taken unawares by the surprise attack and was totally unprepared if, as you claim, you delivered the message that I gave you."

"I wouldn't know anything about that, sir."

Samuel moved close to Molly, grabbed her by the front of her dress and pulled her close to him, slapping her face so hard that her head snapped around and her cheek immediately turned bright red. He then pulled her even closer to him, with his lips close to her ear and her reddened cheek.

"If I find out that you are lying to me, I will see to it that you and your sister die a slow death," growled Samuel into the girl's ear.

"Please, sir, I have told you the truth," sobbed Molly.

Samuel shoved the girl to her back onto her cot as he stepped closer to the cot in order to stand over her.

"Well, all the men are celebrating the victory over the Hessians. I might as well celebrate it with you. Get yer clothes off," commanded Samuel.

* * * *

Alex

"Alex, it really is good to see ye even if you're still a skinny wee runt of a hare," said the smiling Hugh, making a meaty hand grab for Alex, who easily dodged it.

"I'm glad to see you, and Robert, too," said Alex, nodding to Robert who nodded back.

The brothers were back in camp, gathered in the tent Alex still shared with Ellison McCoy, and taking the opportunity to catch up with each other after years of separation.

"Have you heard from father or anyone else back in Scotland?" asked Alex.

"Nae, lad, we've nae heard anything from the auld sod," said Hugh, shaking his head.

"What have ye been doing in America since ye arrived on the Ocean Monarch?" asked Hugh.

Alex gave them a short summary of his life and adventures since he had been in America, giving only a brief reference to Martha and his role in saving her life. He mentioned his run-in with Big Mike on the docks in Philadelphia when he first arrived in America, but he didn't hold a grudge against Big Mike. Robert and Hugh then gave Alex a short summary of their life and adventures since leaving Scotland. Hugh, of course, did the most of the talking.

"I want you and Robert and Big Mike to join my group, the First Continental Cavalry," said Alex, when the brothers had finished bringing each other up to date.

"Weel, Robber's and my enlistment in the Second Mass is up at the end of the year. That's just two days from now, since today is December 29, 1776. I think that we can join up with ye on January first, Alex," said Hugh.

"How much does it pay?" asked the grinning Hugh.

Alex grinned back, looked at Robert, and smiled at Hugh's joke.

"I would feel much better with you and Robert with me. General Washington thinks that the British are going to counterattack us. He has received intelligence that a large British force is making its way south toward Princeton even now. We are going to deploy our army in a defensive position on the south bank of the Assunpink Creek and try to stop them there, just south of Trenton," said Alex.

They were interrupted by a soldier who stuck his head into the tent where the three brothers were talking to tell them that General Washington had called an assembly of the entire Continental Army at a field near the camp. The three brothers filed out of the tent and joined the streams of men who were walking to the parade ground to form up with their units.

The entire army was standing in formation in the field when General Washington rode out in front of them on his white charger. He cut a very dashing figure in his blue uniform and the men looked at him, eager to hear what he had to say.

"I know that most of your enlistments are up at the end of this year, two days from today, but we are faced with a grave threat from the British Army. We must keep what we have gained and not forfeit it because of the lack of men. If you will stay and fight with me for one more month, I will pay a bounty of ten pounds to each and every man who stays and fights. All men who will stay for one more month, cock your firelock and step forward to show me that you will fight," said General Washington.

Not a man stepped forward, so General Washington let the uncomfortable silence drag on for a while as he sat on his charger, facing the men and making eye contact with several of them. When the silence became insufferable, General Washington continued speaking from atop his horse.

"My brave fellows, you have done all I asked you to do, and more than could be reasonably expected. But your country is at stake, your wives, your houses and all that you hold dear. You have worn yourselves out and with fatigue and hardships, but we know not how to spare you. If you will consent to stay only one month longer, you will render that service to the cause of liberty and to your country, which you probably never can do under any other circumstances," pleaded General Washington, who paused and waited for any men to step forward.

Once again, no one stepped forward at first, but suddenly Robert, who was standing in the first row of the men in the Second Mass, glanced at Hugh, raised his rifle into both hands in front of him, cocked his flintlock, and stepped forward, with Hugh stepping forward almost at the same time. For a few seconds no one else stepped forward, then the Longhunter stepped forward, followed by Big Mike Finn and most of the men in the army. General Washington was greatly relieved and very thankful for the volunteers and the show of support.

"The victory at Trenton a few days ago has given our entire country heart, and to our fighting spirit; it has provided a rallying cry to all the rebels in the colonies. Before that victory, it looked like we were about to collapse. Let not the cause of liberty go unheeded. Now we proceed to defeat the British again," concluded General Washington with his sword held aloft.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the men of the Continental Army.

* * * *

Samuel

"I want you to get your cloak on and go to Princeton. Find the commander of the British forces there and give him this message from the Prophet. General Washington plans on defending Trenton just south of Assunpink Creek," said Samuel to the young woman.

"Oh, sir, it's a long way to Princeton. I have never been there before, and it's much too cold outside," said Molly.

"It's only eleven miles from Trenton to Princeton, and Trenton is just across the river about two miles from here. You can cross the river on the Trenton Ferry and then walk north on the Old Princeton Road out of Trenton. After you pass Maidenhead, you will find Princeton just five miles further north on the road. The cold shouldn't bother a young healthy girl like you with your cloak on; however, your sister could freeze to death out in the cold if she didn't have the proper clothing on," replied Samuel as he sneered at Molly.

Molly ducked her head and looked at the ground. She knew that she was defeated. Samuel continued holding her sister Maggie as a hostage. He was using Molly's love for her sister as leverage, and Molly couldn't do anything about it.

"Who is the commander of the British forces that I should deliver the message to?" asked Molly, who feared that Samuel would follow up on the veiled threat to her sister.

"The British commander in Princeton was General James Grant, but I don't know if he is still the commander there now. You'll just have to get there and find out," said Samuel.

Molly put her cloak on and walked out of her tent to leave the camp, while Samuel walked back to his tent to plot his next move.

As Molly crossed the outskirts of the camp, Alex was coming out of the tent that he, Robert, and Hugh now occupied. Alex saw her walking out of the camp and recognized her immediately as the young woman he had questioned at the Assunpink Bridge prior to the battle at Trenton. So he followed her as far as the Trenton Ferry.

Molly thought she was being followed as soon as she left the camp. She glanced behind her several times during her walk to the Trenton Ferry, but she was not able to see anyone behind her.

Alex couldn't ride the ferry with her because he was sure she would recognize him and clam up when he questioned her or perhaps abort her mission. He decided to follow her instead and see what she was about. He was forced to wait until the ferry returned after depositing the passengers on the other side of the river. After he crossed the Delaware River on the ferry, he searched all of Trenton and could not find her anywhere in or around the town. By the time Alex had finished searching the town, Molly was already walking north past Maidenhead on her way to Princeton.

Alex finally gave up the search and returned to the camp. Now that he had seen her in daylight, he had a better description of her. He described her to Robert, Hugh, Big Mike and the Longhunter and told them to be on the lookout for her and to let him know if she showed up in the camp again.

* * * *

Alex

"I think General Washington has a plan for the upcoming battle that he hasn't told anyone about," said Alex.

"What would that plan be?" asked Hugh.

"I don't know. He hasn't told me either."

"Then how do ye know he has a plan?"

"I'm not sure. I sense it more than anything else. General Washington has ordered the troops to build a fortification parallel to the south bank of Assunpink Creek, but that leaves the flanks, especially the right flank unprotected. It's not like General Washington to forget about any details of a pending battle. So that's why I think he must have another plan," replied Alex with a worried look.

"Weel lad, all I know is that I am ten pounds richer than I was yesterday and that General Washington is a man of his word," said Hugh smiling at Alex.

Alex and his men, including Robert, Hugh, Big Mike, and the Longhunter, mounted their horses to ride across on the Trenton Ferry and then north from Trenton along the Old Princeton Road. Their job was to delay the British Army's advance all along the stretch of road from Maidenhead to Trenton, as much as they possibly could with such a small force of men. At Five Mile Run, just south of Maidenhead, Alex set up the first ambush. He placed some of his riflemen in the trees and others at concealed locations along the creek, where the British could not see them from the road.

General Cornwallis had arrived at Princeton with almost eight thousand British regulars and Hessian troops. He left part of his forces in Princeton with General Charles Mawhood and, taking the balance of his army, set off for Trenton. His marching orders included a small detachment of Hessian jagers and British light cavalry that were leading the way. While General Cornwallis had been in Princeton preparing for departure, a young woman was shown into his office by one of his lieutenants.

"How may I be of assistance to you, madam?" the general had asked once the young woman was seated.

"Sir, are you the commander of the British forces in Princeton?" asked Molly.

"Yes I am, madam. How may I help you?" asked the affable general.

"I'm here to give you a message from the Prophet."

"Ah yes, the Prophet that I have heard so much about."

"The Prophet said to tell you that General Washington plans to defend Trenton just south of Assunpink Creek."

"Thank you very much. I suspected it to be the case. Is there anything else?"

"No that was the entire message."

The general stood, indicating that the meeting was over, and pointed toward the door with an open hand, indicating that Molly should show herself out of the office. Molly left the general's headquarters in Princeton, satisfied that she had delivered the message. But she still had the uneasy feeling that she was being followed. She had felt it very strongly earlier in her journey before she left the camp and boarded the Trenton Ferry but she didn't feel it as strongly now and that concerned her. So to elude any potential tail, Molly decided to take a different route back to the camp. She walked west out of Princeton on a trail toward the Delaware River. Following that trail all the way to the River Road, she had turned south and walked along the River Road all the way back to Trenton. It was a bit out of the way, but Molly thought it was worth the extra time and distance to throw off any follower. Molly took the Trenton Ferry back across the river and returned to her tent. She did not see anyone following her the entire time, so she had chalked up her unease to nerves.

For the British commanders, the information from their spy in the midst of the rebels, who called himself the Prophet, had not shed much light on the military situation. General Cornwallis didn't modify his plan based on the information. When General Cornwallis reached Maidenhead, he detached Colonel Alexander Leslie with fifteen hundred men as a reserve force and ordered them to remain there until the following morning. Cornwallis, with the remaining fifty-five hundred men, set out from Maidenhead for the final six miles to Trenton.

As soon as the Hessian jagers and British light cavalry leading General Cornwallis's army came within range of the first ambush, Alex and his men opened fire. The ambush caught the Hessians and British off guard, throwing them into a state of confusion. British regular troops were called up from the main unit to form a battle line, but by the time they arrived, Alex and his troops had vanished. Alex and his men had retreated after the first volley to take up a concealed position in a heavily wooded area on the south bank of the Shabakunk Creek. The British and Hessians finally realized that the snipers had retreated. Their leaders got the army moving south along the road again. They had wasted too much time getting reorganized after the ambush, and as a result they were behind schedule in their advance on Trenton.

When the leading elements of the British troops crossed the bridge over the Shabakunk Creek, Alex and his riflemen opened fire again at very short range. There was no possibility they could miss, so several of the enemy soldiers were killed outright. The British searched the woods for an hour and could find no one. They finally gave up and once again resumed their perilous march toward Trenton.

At each ambush point, Alex and his men had evaporated into the woods like ghosts after the initial volleys were fired. By the middle of the afternoon the British had advanced to a ravine called Stockton Hollow, just a half mile north of Trenton, where Alex and his men had set up yet another ambush. By this time, the British had caught on to the delaying tactic and attacked Alex's men in force as soon as the first volleys rang out. Alex and his men kept up the fight rather than retreating and fell back slowly as they fought.

"Fall back into Trenton, men. Use the houses for cover. We will fight them all the way through Trenton back to the Assunpink Bridge!" yelled Alex as he and his men slowly retreated.

The British kept coming at a slower pace as Alex and his men continued to fall back to the Assunpink Creek Bridge. At the end of the running battle, Alex got all his troops across the bridge without losing a man or suffering any serious wounds. By this time it was late afternoon, and the British troops were weary from the march and from fighting Alex's men.

The British force attacked the American position on the south bank of Assunpink Creek three times before nightfall, but were repulsed each time. The bridge over the Assunpink Creek was red with blood and the red cloaks of the fallen British troops. When General Cornwallis finally arrived in Trenton, it was fully dark. When he learned that the initial attacks by the leading edges of the British forces had failed to dislodge the Americans, he called a council of war, including all his commanders, to decide a course of action.

Based on the recommendations of his officers and his own opinion, General Cornwallis decided to pull his troops back for the night to a position on a hill just north of Trenton in order to rest his troops and feed them. He decided he would attack General Washington and the Americans at first light the next day and finish them off.

"We've got the old fox cornered now. We'll go over the bridge and bag him in the morning," said General Cornwallis to his officers as he dismissed the council of war meeting.

Early the next morning, General Cornwallis's toilet routine was interrupted by one of his lieutenants who entered his tent in a rush and out of breath.

"Sir, we have a disaster on our hands," cried the disheveled aide.

"What seems to be the problem, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, when we attacked the American positions across the Assunpink Creek Bridge this morning, we found that the rebels have vanished!"

"The old fox has slipped out of the bag," muttered General Cornwallis to himself as he turned aside from his aide to consider the situation.

The Continental Army and General Washington had not exactly vanished. While General Cornwallis's aide was explaining the situation to him in his tent, General Washington and the Americans were already attacking the British positions in Princeton. At two o'clock that morning, General Washington had assembled his staff officers and commanders just south of the Assunpink Creek.

"Gentlemen, we are going to evacuate our position here on the south bank of the Assunpink Creek immediately. We will follow the creek bank eastward and then northeast, circling around General Cornwallis's army. We will ford the creek about two miles from here where it is shallow, and march north to Princeton to attack the British garrison there. Let us march in absolute silence. Have your men wrap rags around their guns to minimize noise, and absolutely no talking will be permitted while we march," said General Washington.

"Lieutenant Mackenzie and Captain McCoy, I would have a word with you," said General Washington.

As soon as all the officers had left, General Washington turned to Alex and Ellison.

"Captain McCoy and Lieutenant Mackenzie, I am going to leave you and five hundred men and one cannon behind. I want you to make noise with shovels and picks and keep the fires burning to create the illusion that we are digging in here. Fire the cannon into the British encampment at irregular intervals to further the illusion that we are staying put. Just before dawn, I want you to evacuate the men and cannon and abandon this position. Quick march the men and the cannon to join the main force for the attack on Princeton," said the general.

"Yes, Sir," replied Captain McCoy and Lieutenant Mackenzie in unison.

By the time the sun broke through the low morning clouds just above the horizon, Alex, Ellison, and the five hundred men that General Washington had left behind had already evacuated their positions to join the main army. So when the British attacked that morning, they found the Continental Army was gone.

In Princeton on January 3, 1777, after a brief battle against the British garrison, the Continental Army decisively defeated the British and captured most of the troops under the command of General Mawhood. It was the second British loss in ten days. General Howe was mortified by the defeats and ordered the British Army to withdraw from southern New Jersey, moving most of the British and Hessian troops all the way back to New York.

* * * *

Samuel

"Why are my messages not getting through?" asked Samuel, speaking to Molly, who was sitting on her cot inside her tent.

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Molly.

"If the British Army knew in advance where the Continental Army was located and what their intentions were, then why did the British lose the last two battles at Trenton and at Princeton?"

"I'm sure that I have no idea, sir."

"Are you positive that you delivered my message to General Cornwallis?"

"Yes, Sir, I did."

"Describe General Cornwallis to me."

"Sir, he is a heavy set, very courteous, rotund gentlemen with a ruddy complexion. He has a very sharp, long nose and bushy eyebrows. His hair is blond and curled at the ends, and he has a cleft in his chin. He was wearing a red coat with black lapels, and the buttons on it were gold. There was a gold braid attached to the top of the shoulders of his jacket. His white vest also sported gold buttons."

"Hmm, that does sound like him. So you actually spoke with him in person in Princeton, not just one of his aides?"

"Yes, sir, I spoke with the general himself."

Samuel was puzzled by the patriot victories that he had surely sabotaged. He didn't understand how the British could lose, and he wanted to blame the defeats on Molly. But it appeared that in spite of his advance warnings, the Americans were superior in these two battles.

Without another word, he turned and walked out of Molly's tent, deep in thought.

* * * *

Alex

"It's a good thing General Washington has been keeping his plans to himself and then springing them on us at the last minute," said Alex, speaking with Robert and Hugh after the Battle of Princeton.

"Why is that Alex, lad?" asked Hugh.

"General Washington suspects a spy in our midst, and he has asked me to ferret out the traitor."

"What progress have you made?" asked Robert.

"Not much, but I have some clues. I just haven't been able to put it all together yet."

Alex then told Robert and Hugh about why he was interested in the young woman that he had described to them earlier. He also told them about his hopes that she would provide a clue to solving the mystery.

"Alex, now that the British have retreated, and we are going to move to our winter quarters, I doubt that the spy will be very active. We may have to wait until the spring campaign later this year to make any progress on it," said Robert.

"My thoughts exactly," replied Alex.

Alex looked at Robert. It was probably the longest conversation that he had engaged in with Robert since they had been reunited. Alex knew how intelligent Robert was and that Robert, Hugh, and the Longhunter could probably help him find the spy. If Robert put his mind to a problem, he usually solved it.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"General Howe, Captain Ferguson reporting for duty," barked the captain, standing at attention in front of General Howe's desk in his office in New York.

"Welcome to the colonies, Captain Ferguson. I have heard a lot about you and have been eagerly expecting you, your troops, and your new rifle. I am sure that you will be of great assistance to me in putting down this damnable colonial rebellion," replied the enthusiastic general, who stood up from his desk to shake hands with the smiling captain.

"My men and I have just arrived in New York and are waiting aboard the Christopher, sir. We are ready and eager for a fight," said the elegantly dressed captain in his green jacket and black trousers.

"Excellent! You will be assigned to help me with the spring campaign in New Jersey. We have experienced losses to the rebels late last year in Trenton and already this year in Princeton. As soon as we get this winter behind us, we will need something or someone to provide a spark for our side. I think that you and your new rifle might be just the thing to provide that spark."

"I remain at your service, sir," replied the captain, preening a bit and formally bowing at the waist.

"How many men do you have, Captain?"

"We are one hundred strong, sir, ready and chomping at the bit."

"Tell me more about this rifle of yours."

"This new rifle that I invented is a breech loader, sir, based on an improved version of Chaumette's breech loading design. It shoots sixty-five caliber balls and is accurate to a range of up to two hundred yards. That's twice the range of the Brown Bess. It can be loaded and fired from a standing, kneeling, sitting, or lying position. And its rate of fire is twice that of the Bess, sir."

"That's impressive. Let's work out how you and your troops can best be used in my spring campaign to wipe out the Continental Army."

The two officers sat down at the desk to come up with a plan to use the new rifle company against the Continental Army during the coming spring campaign.

* * * *

Alex

"We're now settled into winter quarters here in Morristown. There won't be any more battles fought until spring," said Alex, who was talking with Robert, Hugh, and the Longhunter.

Following the Battle of Princeton, General Washington had moved his troops to Morristown, New Jersey to spend the rest of the winter. After the victory at Princeton and the retreat of the British Army to New York, the Continental Army had marched due north to Morristown, arriving there on January 6, 1777. General Washington had known that the British were regrouping in New York, so the Continental Army regrouped just to the west in New Jersey. The troops knew that the battles would start again as soon as the weather improved in the spring.

"Why do ye suppose that General Washington picked this spot for our winter camp?" asked Hugh.

"Well, it's far enough from New York to keep us from being surprised. And it's got good access to Philadelphia, so I rate it a fairly strategic location," answered Robert, before Alex could speak.

Alex nodded agreement with Robert's analysis. General Washington had established his headquarters at Jacob Arnold's tavern located on the Morristown Green. The army was quartered just outside the small town in their tents. Morristown was also chosen because General Washington and his staff thought that the town could supply enough food for the army for the few months that they would be camped there.

"I want you three to fan out in the camp and make as many friends among the troops in the other units as you can. Try to find out from the other soldiers about anything unusual that is going on or any stories about strange things that might have happened that defy logic. Also check out the camp followers. They seem to know a lot about what is going on in the army. There might be a clue out there somewhere that will help us find the traitor. I don't want to leave any stone unturned this winter," said Alex.

"I would be more than happy to spend some time among the camp followers," said Hugh with a grin.

"I'll bet you would," replied Alex with a glare. Turning to his other brother instead, he continued, "Robert, why don't you spend some time with the camp followers and let Hugh make the rounds with the troops?"

General Washington's main job during the time that the army was idle was to replace the men whose enlistments had expired. Many had left the army to return to their homes, and the new recruits needed to be trained. The Second Continental Congress that met in Philadelphia was encouraged by the victories at Trenton and Princeton. They had given General Washington enough funds to replace all the men who had left the army.

Alex did not lose any men from his unit that winter. They trained on horseback when the cold winter weather would allow it. When the weather was too bad to train, Alex, his two brothers, and the Longhunter continued their investigation into the traitor to see if they could gather any clues. But clues were not easy to come by. Molly stayed in her tent most of the time and was seldom out during the daylight hours. During one such venture out, she had seen Alex from a distance at the camp and had recognized him as the officer who had questioned her at the Assunpink Creek Bridge. After that, she took every precaution to avoid him. As a result, the investigation went nowhere during the winter. Robert, Hugh, and the Longhunter had no luck at all, even though they had moved freely among the troops in all the units of the army. They had asked a number of pointed questions that could lead to a clue about the identity of the traitor, but they got nowhere.

When spring finally arrived, General Washington decided to begin his campaign again, so he called a war council of his officers. As each officer filed into his conference room, he shook hands with each one individually, thanking them for coming.

"Gentlemen, our tactics against the British this coming summer are going to be hit and run. They will try to draw us into a major battle, but we are not strong enough to take them on right now. We currently have about eight thousand men, and almost three thousand of them are either sick or disabled. These men are unable to fight. The British have seventeen thousand fighting men at New Brunswick alone. We are outnumbered a little over three to one. We will fight skirmishes and try to whittle away at their numbers until we can get them down to our size before we will risk a general confrontation. I would like for everyone to give me a report on the condition of their units," concluded General Washington.

During the spring and summer of 1777, General Washington kept his word and did not engage the British Army in any major confrontations. He harassed them constantly and fought skirmishes, but there was no apparent victor in any of these confrontations.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Captain Ferguson, you and your men have performed admirably against the rebels this year. That rifle of yours is all that you said it would be. With a whole army equipped with your rifle, I could put an end to this rebellion in a few months," stated General Sir William Howe in a conference with the captain at his New York headquarters. It was the middle of July 1777.

"Thank you, sir," replied the smiling Captain Ferguson.

"Tell me about the incident with the ammunition," commanded General Howe.

"Ah, the ammunition, yes," said Captain Ferguson. "It was our first engagement, sir, and the quartermaster issued my men seventy-five caliber ball shot, which is the size ball that the Brown Bess uses. My rifle is, of course, bored for sixty-five caliber balls. The difference in size and weight between the seventy-five and the sixty-five is very small. It's relatively easy to mistake one ball for the other. The ammunition, of course, jammed in the breeches, and we had a few rifle barrels explode when the ball was fired into the barrel by the powder blast. We had a devil of a time clearing the jams until we borrowed some ramrods from the regular units to dislodge the oversized balls. It was a dicey bit for a while, but we were able to escape the skirmish and acquire the proper size ball," continued the captain. "From there we have had no problems."

"Very good, captain. I have been trying to draw Washington out into battle all summer here in northern New Jersey, but can't seem to get him into a major engagement. He seems to want to fight these damn small skirmishes where there is no clear winner or loser," said General Howe.

"Yes, sir, that is true, but we are losing more men than he is," replied the concerned Captain Ferguson.

"Yes, I know, and I want to end this rebellion this year. That is why I am going to attack and take Philadelphia. As you know, Philadelphia is the rebel capital and where their so called Second Continental Congress sits in session. If I capture Philadelphia, then the war will be over."

"Sir, on the European battlefield, the capture of the enemy's capital traditionally ends the war. But I doubt that Washington will give up, even if we take Philadelphia," replied Captain Ferguson.

"He might not, but he might. I am going to take Philadelphia anyway. I don't like fighting these damn skirmishes. By attacking Philadelphia, we might be able to draw Washington into a full scale battle and defeat him, even if he won't surrender."

"Sir, it is a long march from New York to Philadelphia. We will have to cross the Delaware River at some point, where we will be vulnerable to attack. We would also have to build boats to cross the river because it is too wide to ford that far south. That will delay the crossing quite a bit and lengthen our vulnerability."

"You have hit the nail on the head, Captain. That's exactly why I am going to take the British Army to Philadelphia by sea," replied General Howe with a self-indulgent smile.

This was indeed a surprise to Captain Ferguson, whose respect for General Howe increased greatly upon hearing his battle plan.

"There is one other item I want to discuss with you, Captain. We have successfully placed a spy in Washington's camp. This spy, whose name is by the way Major Samuel Ruskin, provides us with advance knowledge of Washington's movements and deployments if he can. He has been fairly reliable in the past, with a few exceptions. I want you to be my liaison with this spy during the Philadelphia campaign. We have set up a way to send information to this Ruskin fellow from time to time, but it is not entirely reliable. I have sent Ruskin a message already that you will serve as my proxy," said General Howe.

"I would be honored to help any way I can, General. How will I get in contact with this Ruskin fellow?"

"You won't, Captain, unless it is of the utmost importance or I command you to. He will contact you, usually through a third party. He has been using a young woman to carry these messages to us. I don't want to use her to send our messages back to Ruskin. We can use someone else for that. I think that would be much too risky, since we know nothing about this young woman. She could even be a double agent."

"How will I recognize this young woman?"

"She will say that the message is from the Prophet. That is his pseudonym or nom de guerre as it were. We want to keep his identity a secret. You and I and two others are the only ones in the entire British Army who know of his existence and identity. I want to keep it that way," replied General Howe. "Don't breathe of word of this to anyone else. I don't want to compromise him."

"As you wish, sir," replied the captain.

The British Army departed New York from Sandy Hook, New Jersey, courtesy of the British navy a few days later, in late July 1777, and, after encountering a number of delays, finally arrived at Head of Elk, Maryland in late August 1777.

* * * *

Samuel

"Take this message from the Prophet to a British Captain Ferguson who commands an infantry rifle company of the British forces that now occupy Kennett Square, Pennsylvania," said Samuel to Molly after he had finished with her. "Find this captain, who will be camped somewhere near the main force. Tell him that Washington intends to block the oncoming British Army at Chadds Ford and make his stand there on the road between Baltimore and Philadelphia."

The British Army had sailed from New York south along the New Jersey coast with the intention of entering the Delaware Bay and traveling up the Delaware River to Philadelphia. But intelligence reports indicated that the Continental Army had set obstructions in the river, making it impassable. These reports later proved to be false, but in reliance on them, the British fleet had sailed further south and entered the Chesapeake Bay. They sailed up the bay all the way to Head of Elk, Maryland and unloaded the troops near the mouth of the Elk River. From there, they marched north to find the Baltimore to Philadelphia road so that they could follow it into Philadelphia. General Washington had learned of their intentions and had moved his army south from his winter camp in Morristown, New Jersey, to take up the high ground in the best defensible position he could find near Chadds Ford, on the Brandywine River.

Unlike many of the other rivers that crossed the road from Baltimore to Philadelphia, the Brandywine River was a shallow but fast-flowing river that was fordable at only a few places. It was the best place he could find to try to stop the advance of the British Army. General Washington had issued general orders for deploying his army and ordered his commanders to determine where to position his forces.

"It is only seven miles from Chadds Ford to Kennett Square," continued Samuel. "You can be there before nightfall if you leave right now."

"Yes, sir," replied Molly.

Molly rose, dressed and immediately left the tent, walking west out of the camp, to find the road toward Baltimore. She waded across the Brandywine River at Chadds Ford, since it was less than waist deep at that point, and dried off on the west bank. Then she walked along the road again toward Kennett Square.

When she had walked a little more than four miles from Chadds Ford, she came upon some British troops who had set up a check point in the road. A British soldier stopped her when she arrived at the check point.

"What is your business here?" asked the soldier.

"I have a message for Captain Ferguson," replied Molly.

"Ah, then you are in luck. Captain Ferguson has his headquarters tent set up just off the road, in the trees south of here," said the soldier pointing to a game trail path that led south from the road.

"Thank you, sir," said Molly as she started walking down the path toward the tent.

It was only a short walk to the tent that was set up in a clearing near the trail. There were two British soldiers on guard outside the tent near the front tent flaps. Molly walked up to the two soldiers and stopped in front of them.

"I have a message for Captain Ferguson," repeated Molly.

"One moment, Miss, I'll check to see if the captain will see you," replied one of the soldiers, who went inside the tent and reappeared shortly.

"Captain Ferguson is very busy right now, but if you will wait inside the tent, he will see you as soon as he can free himself," said the soldier as held the tent flap open for the young woman to enter the tent.

Molly walked into the tent and stepped up to the British officer who was sitting behind a field desk writing on a piece of paper. The officer seated at the desk ignored the young woman and continued writing.

"Captain Ferguson, I have a message for you," said the obviously impatient Molly.

The British officer continued to write, completely ignoring the girl. Molly waited a few minutes and attempted to interrupt the officer again.

"Captain Ferguson, I have a very important message for you," repeated Molly.

The officer glanced at Molly, held up his hand for her to stop, and then continued to write, again ignoring the young woman. Molly saw that he had glanced at her, so she held her peace for several minutes. Then when she could wait no longer, she attempted to interrupt the captain again.

"Sir, it's very important and from the Prophet."

The officer stopped writing and looked up at the young woman.

"What is the message from the Prophet?"

"The Prophet says that General Washington intends to block the advance of the British forces at Chadds Ford."

"Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"No, Sir, that is the entire message," replied the Molly.

"Thank you, Miss. You can tell the Prophet that his message has been delivered."

The British officer looked down and began to write again without dismissing the young woman. Molly stood in front of him for a few moments and slowly turned around and walked out of the tent. As she walked back along the path toward the road, she failed to notice the two buckskin-clad men who were following her at a distance in the cover of the nearby trees. One of the two men was Jonas Dunne, and no one had ever been wily enough to detect being followed by Jonas so far. Jonas was a mountain man as well as a frontiersman, and he blended into the wilderness seamlessly. He had lived in the frontier all his life and didn't like the east and the people who lived there. He always wore buckskins and looked a lot like the Longhunter with his gaunt frame and piercing gaze.

"Has anyone ever seen her before?" asked Robert, dressed in the uniform of a British Army major and sitting behind the desk in the tent, as Alex, Hugh, Big Mike, and the Longhunter walked in through a flap in the rear of the tent.

Robert had played the role of a British officer before, when he had rescued Hugh, after Hugh's capture by the British Army in England, so he knew the role well. The other men had been standing behind the tent and observing the conversation between Robert and Molly through a small slit near a fold in the rear of the tent. Robert had hatched the plan to uncover the identity of the spy. They had used captured British Army uniforms to pull off the ruse. It had been a gamble, and they were lucky that the young woman couldn't tell the difference in the rank on the uniform between a captain and a major in the British Army. Robert and Alex had thought that she might appear again as she had in the past before a major battle. So Robert had come up with the idea to set up a tent as close to the British lines as possible and intercept her no matter whom she asked for. The sentries on the road and outside the tent were also patriots disguised as British soldiers.

"She's the one that I stopped at the Assunpink Creek Bridge, the one who said she had a message from the Prophet, and the same one I followed to the Trenton Ferry before we set up the fortifications at Assunpink Creek and fought at Princeton. The Prophet is our spy. If we follow her, she should lead us to the Prophet, and we will have our man," said Alex.

"I saw her and her sister several times in Philadelphia. Her name is Molly Ludwig and she has a sister named Maggie. Both sisters disappeared some time ago, and there was a rumor that they had committed some sort of crime, but no one ever heard what it was. I had assumed that she and her sister had moved on to live somewhere else," said Big Mike Finn.

"Weel, the men trailing her won't lose her. I'll put my life on that. They'll stake out where she holds up until they have something to report," said the Longhunter.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Gentlemen, our advance scouts have reported that all the fords along the Brandywine River both north and south of the pike into Philadelphia are occupied by Continental Army troops. We don't know if this is the main Continental Army or not. We must assume that Washington is going to make a stand somewhere along our route into the rebel capital. If it's going to be at this ford on the Brandywine, so be it. We may finally have him exactly where we want him. But we must take all precautions," said General Howe to the British officers assembled in his war council tent at Kennett Square.

Later that day, Moses Doan, who was called the "Eagle Spy," confirmed that it was indeed General Washington and the Continental Army who occupied the Chadds Ford on the Brandywine. He also reported that they had dug into strong defensive positions. On September 10, 1777, General Howe called his officers into another war council at his tent at Kennett Square.

"Tomorrow morning we will not attack Washington's well prepared defensive positions as he expects us to do. For us to do so would be a disaster of major proportions. Lieutenant-General Baron Wilhelm von Knyphausen will lead about sixty-eight hundred troops directly toward Washington's trap at Chadds Ford just to keep the Continental troops occupied, but he will not cross the Brandywine River and step into the trap. Von Knyphausen's frontal feint will be led by the Tory vanguard of the Queen's Rangers and Captain Ferguson's riflemen because of their superior firepower and outstanding marksmanship. My command will break off from the main road with eighty-two hundred men and march northeast up the Great Valley Road. We will cross the Brandywine's west branch at Trimble's Ford and then cross the Brandywine's east branch at Jeffries' Ford. Our scouts report that Washington's troops have not occupied those fords because they are so far north of the pike. They do not expect that we would march that far north. After we make the crossing, I will proceed south around Washington's right flank, attacking him with full strength. Once I have engaged Washington's flank, the troops deployed in the frontal feint will cross the Brandywine River, and we will have him in a pincer."

"That will be all gentlemen. Please prepare to leave the camp before first light tomorrow. You are all dismissed. Captain Ferguson, if you will please wait, I would have a word with you," concluded General Howe.

Captain Ferguson rose from his chair with the rest of the officers but stepped back to allow the others to leave the tent. As soon as the last officer had left the tent, General Howe turned to the captain.

"Captain Ferguson, do you have anything to add to my battle plan regarding your riflemen?" asked the general.

"Excellent plan, sir; I expect a full rout of the rebels," replied the smiling Captain Ferguson.

"My thoughts also," said General Howe.

"During your attack tomorrow morning at Chadds Ford, I want you and your men to concentrate on trying to kill Continental Army officers, rather than firing at ordinary soldiers. With the expert marksmanship skills of your men and the superior range of your rifles, I think that we stand of good chance of depleting Washington's ranks of skilled leaders in this engagement. You and your men should get as close to the Brandywine as you can, remaining under cover, so that you will have the best chances to snipe Washington's officers," continued the general.

"It would be my pleasure," replied the captain, his smile even wider.

"Have you heard from the Prophet?" asked the general.

"I have not, Sir."

"Well, no matter, I doubt there is anything he could tell us that we don't already know anyway. The Eagle Spy has already given us everything we need to know. But I would like to meet with the Prophet anyway, since this battle will probably end the war. I would like to personally thank him for his service to the crown. I would also like to discuss my plans for him after the war. He has been a very valuable asset to us, and I would like for that to continue."

"I know that we should contact him under only the most extreme circumstances, but I want you to arrange for the Eagle Spy, Moses Doan, to secretly deliver a message to him later today. Tomorrow afternoon, before we attack, I would like to meet with him along the north River Road on the east side of the Brandywine, south of Sconneltown. Tell him to meet me only if he can get away to meet with me without jeopardizing his position."

"I will make the arrangements, sir," replied the captain.

* * * *

Samuel

"Did you deliver the message?" asked Major Samuel Ruskin.

"Indeed I did, sir," replied Molly, looking down at the dirt floor of her tent.

"What did Captain Ferguson say in response?"

"He said to tell you that the message had been delivered," replied Molly still staring at the floor.

Samuel Ruskin was pleased that she had delivered his message, and he was in a hurry, so he left the tent without any further discussion.

On his walk back to his tent, Samuel spied a very large poorly dressed Continental Army soldier walking toward him. The large man was ambling along the same path at a place where the narrow path passed through a grove of trees. Rather than yield and step off the path so that Major Ruskin could pass, the large soldier stayed on the path and bumped into Samuel, knocking him down.

"What do you think you are doing?" said the indignant major, still lying on the ground.

"Sorry, sir, I must have been daydreaming," replied the solider.

"I'll see that you daydream your way into a court martial and out of this army."

"I hope thee are not hurt," said the soldier, extending his hand to help the major up.

After Samuel was back on his feet, as the soldier was brushing off Samuel's clothes, he leaned close to Samuel's ear.

"I bear a message for thee from General Howe," the large soldier whispered in Samuel's ear. "He wants to meet with thee if possible, just south of Sconneltown tomorrow afternoon, if thee canst get away without being seen."

"Tell the general that I will be there," whispered Samuel.

"Thy wish in my command," said the large Quaker, Moses Doan, called the Eagle Spy, who immediately disappeared into the trees.

* * * *

Alex

Outside Molly's tent, two buckskin-clad men who were hidden in the trees near the camp followers' tents saw Major Ruskin leave. But they did not see his encounter with the Eagle Spy as the Quaker delivered the message to him from General Howe. They huddled together to discuss what to do next.

"Clem, you stay here and watch to see if anything else develops. I'll go tell Robert and Lieutenant Mackenzie what is going on here," said Jonas Dunne to his companion.

The other man's name was Clemet Jackson, but everyone called him Clem. He was also a frontiersman and scout, and he had been partnered with Jonas Dunne for many years. They were best friends and had hunted together since they were young men. When they were younger, they had married two sisters in a double wedding ceremony. But both women had died several years earlier during a yellow fever epidemic that swept through the frontier. The men had remained close.

Alex, Robert and Hugh were in Alex's tent when the lanky Jonas walked in.

"Sir, may I come in?" asked Jonas.

"Certainly. Do you have anything to report?" asked Alex.

"Sir, as you know, we followed the young woman from the tent across the Brandywine, all the way back to the camp followers' tents near our camp. She never caught sight of us, I am real sure of that. She went to her own tent and immediately went in it. We staked out her tent from the trees across the clearing and took turns watching it. About a half hour ago Major Samuel Ruskin walked into her tent without announcing himself. He stayed only for about one or two minutes and then left. We were too far away to hear anything or say what transpired in the tent while Major Ruskin was inside. Clem Jackson is still watching the tent," said Jonas.

"Very good. You have done well, Jonas. Go back to Clem and see if anything else happens or if anyone else visits her tent," said Alex.

Jonas Dunne left the tent immediately and headed back the way he had come to rejoin his partner in watching the young girl's tent.

"What do you think, Robert?" asked Alex, who had already formed his own opinion about it.

"I think that Major Ruskin is our spy, but we can't prove it. The girl won't talk, and without her testimony, it his word against ours."

"My thoughts exactly. What do you think we ought to do?"

"There's nothing we can do right now, but at least we know who the spy is. We can focus our efforts on him and not spend any more resources on the girl. She may be his pawn in this game. He must be holding something over her head and forcing her to do his bidding," replied Robert.

"Lots of things can happen during a war. We need to task some men to watch him during the upcoming battle. just to make sure that nothing unfortunate happens to him. There is more than one way to deal with a traitor and Reivers can be ruthless," continued Robert with a sly smile.

"Aye, they can," piped up Hugh.

"Do you mean lots of things can happen in war or that Reivers can be ruthless?" asked Alex.

"Aye," answered Hugh. "And I think that we ought to watch him, just to make sure that he stays safe during the battle," continued Hugh with a guilelessly blank expression.

Robert and Alex turned to look at each other and then simultaneously nodded.

That evening, just after dark, Robert walked along the path to the camp followers' tents. He soon found Jonas and his partner, Clem, watching the girl's tent from the trees across the way.

"Has there been any more activity here?" asked Robert.

"Nothing to report, Robert; I think she has gone to sleep," replied Jonas.

"Okay, I want you two to head back to camp to eat and get some sleep. Tomorrow morning at first light, I want you two to follow Major Ruskin all day. Don't let him see you, and if he does anything strange, report back to me or Alex."

"Will do," replied Jonas, who immediately left with his partner Clem Jackson.

Robert gazed at the girl's tent for a few minutes and then turned and went back to camp to tell Alex the plan he had set in motion.

* * * *

Alex

"Lieutenant Mackenzie, I want you to split your cavalry unit into two groups," said General Washington. "I want one group to scout north all the way up past Sconneltown. I want the other group to scout south at least five miles past Pyle's Ford. The morning fog has obscured the British troop movements. We are aware that they are on the march, but I am getting conflicting reports regarding their disposition. I need a set of eyes I can trust to warn me personally if we are being flanked from the north or from the south. Don't send a courier back with reports on what you find. I want you and or one of your brothers to ride back and give me the report face-to-face. I want to be able to depend on what you and your brothers say to me."

"I understand, sir," replied Alex.

"How will you split up your unit?" asked General Washington.

"Sir, I will send my brothers, Robert and Hugh north with half of my men. Alexander Glendenning and I will take the other half south."

"Very good. Please depart immediately. I am in dire need of information that I can trust," said General Washington, turning to handle another conference with waiting Continental Army officers.

It was already noon, and the Continental Army had been awakened early that morning by the reports and sounds of British troop movements on the west side of the Brandywine River. Washington's defense of Philadelphia at Chadds Ford was going to be tested that day, and they all knew it. Alex had been summoned to General Washington's field headquarters on the heights overlooking Chadds Ford, where the general could observe the battle firsthand. The action between the British and the Continental Army at Chadds Ford had lapsed into inactivity after the initial British attacks. General Washington feared that the British were up to something. He wanted more information, and he needed reliable information. Alex left the meeting at a trot and soon arrived where his men were assembled just behind the hill where General Washington's headquarters was located.

"Robert and Hugh, I want you take Big Mike and half the men north and scout the area all the way past Sconneltown. I will take Alexander and the other half of the men and scout south about five miles past Pyle's Ford. When you have finished your reconnaissance, I want you or Hugh to meet me back here at General Washington's field headquarters. Do not send a man back to report. General Washington wants to hear the report from you or Hugh from the north and a report from me from the south. I will meet you two back here at the general's headquarters in no more than two hours from now."

"Have you heard anything from Jonas and Clem?" asked Alex.

"Nothing yet," replied Robert.

"Let's ride," said Alex as leaped into his saddle.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Weel, there appears to be nae sign up here," said Hugh as they reined in their horses about two miles north of Wister's Ford.

"Let's travel on north to Sconneltown, just to make sure," replied Robert.

They hadn't ridden far when they spied a horseman riding south at a gallop along the River Road from Sconneltown.

"That looks like Jonas," said Hugh.

"It is Jonas," replied Robert as Jonas arrived and halted his horse, almost running into them.

"Whoa there Jonas. What goes?" asked Robert.

"Hello, Robert. Clem and I followed Major Ruskin all day like you said. He didn't see us, we're sure of that. Long about noon, he saddled up and rode north with two soldiers. We followed almost a mile behind him. We heard a shot about thirty minutes ago, so we rode hard to see what it was. We found the two soldiers who were riding with Major Ruskin lying on the side of the trail. One was dead from a gunshot through the back and the other one had been stabbed and was almost dead. We tried to save the one that was stabbed, but he was too far gone. Before he died, he told us that Major Ruskin had attacked him and the other man when they stopped and got off to water their horses. Major Ruskin shot the one man in the back and then drew his knife and stabbed other man before he could escape. The major then mounted up and rode north alone. We laid out the two men so that we could bury them later. Then we mounted up and followed Major Ruskin north until we saw a big dust cloud," said Jonas as he took a drink from his canteen.

"We got off the road and worked our way through the trees north to about a mile south of Sconneltown. When we crested a ridge, we saw that Major Ruskin had dismounted and was standing in the middle of the road, holding his rifle with a white rag tied at the end of the barrel. He was standing in front of what looked like the whole British Army marching south from Sconneltown. I told Clem to stay and see what happened and I high-tailed it back to report," said Jonas.

"How many British do you think are coming down the road?" asked Robert.

"We didn't get a count, but from what I saw and the size of the dust cloud, I would say that there's more than five thousand," replied Jonas.

"Okay, you, Hugh, Big Mike, and the rest of the men scout on north through the trees and see what they are up to. Get a better count of how many there are. As soon as you know something, I want Hugh to ride back to General Washington's headquarters with the information. I am going to ride back now and tell the general that we are being flanked from the north. If Major Ruskin comes out ahead of the British, I want you to kill him if you get the chance," said Robert.

"Weel now, we'd be happy to do that," said Hugh with a wolfish grin.

Robert nodded and leapt into his saddle, spurring his horse south at full speed along the road towards Chadds Ford and General Washington's headquarters.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Let's work our way down closer to the river to see if we can find a position to get a better shot at them," said Captain Ferguson as he deployed the vanguard of his men and his best marksmen to snipe the rebels across the Brandywine River at Chadds Ford.

The captain's marksmen had located some high ground close to the ford. They were setting up their positions to fire on the rebels, who were a little over one hundred yards away across the river.

"Try to sight in on the rebel officers. Don't waste shots at common soldiers if you have an officer in range," commanded Captain Ferguson as he took up a firing position in the middle of the bluff where his best men were deployed.

Captain Ferguson selected a firing position that was well-suited both to observing the rebels and to commanding his troops. It wasn't long before a high-ranking officer rode up and dismounted to inspect the fortifications at the ford on the river bank. Captain Ferguson passed the word to his men that he would take the shot at this officer. As the captain aimed his rifle and sighted in on the rebel officer, another rebel soldier clad in buckskins rode up to speak with the officer. They walked a short distance away from the river bank and then turned their backs to him giving him, two broad backs as targets. But rather than shoot at the officer's back, which was indeed a large target, the captain selected the officer's head as his target. He was supremely confident in his marksmanship skill at just over one hundred yards and wanted a clean kill from a head shot, rather than risk merely wounding with a body shot.

* * * *

Alex

"There's no way to cross the Brandywine below Pyle's Ford. It's too swift and too deep," said Alex to the Longhunter, gazing at the river.

"That's true lad. We are already at least five miles downriver, and it's just getting wider and deeper," replied the Longhunter.

"I am going to ride back and tell General Washington. You and the men keep going for a couple more miles just to make sure," said Alex.

"Aye, lad, we'll keep going for a ways," said the Longhunter.

Alex reined his horse and turned back toward Chadds Ford at a gallop. When he arrived at General Washington's headquarters, he dismounted, handed his reins to one of the troops and ran into the headquarters tent. But General Washington was not inside. One of the general's lieutenants, who was sitting at Major Ruskin's desk, told Alex that the general had just left. He could be found down the hill, closer to Chadds Ford, inspecting the troop dispositions and fortifications down at the ford. Alex walked out of the tent and mounted up to follow General Washington to Chadds Ford. He finally located the general on the river bank overlooking the Brandywine. The buckskin-clad Alex dismounted with his rifle cradled in his arm and walked up to the general, who turned around to walk a short distance away from the river and face Alex. Alex turned around to face the same direction as General Washington, away from the river, to speak to him. Both men had their backs toward the river and had no idea that they were being targeted by enemy snipers.

"Sir, we searched five miles south of Pyle's Ford, and there was no sign of the British. The Brandywine is too wide, too deep, and too swift for any large body of men to cross anywhere down there. I've sent my men on further south just make sure that we didn't overlook any possibilities," reported Alex.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Mackenzie, for giving me that report. It is as I suspected. Have you heard anything from your brothers who went north?" asked General Washington.

"No, sir, not yet," replied Alex.

The words had barely come out of Alex's mouth when he and General Washington spied a rider on horseback, bent over his horse's neck, riding hard toward them. It looked like Robert riding toward them, hell bent for leather. As Robert approached them, he didn't slow his horse but ran it near them and leaped from the saddle as the horse passed them, tackling both Alex and General Washington with his body, taking them to the ground with him.

"Redcoats," panted Robert as he rolled off of Alex and the general and pointed to the ridge across the Brandywine River.

Alex reacted immediately, rolling over while still on the ground and bringing up his rifle, priming the pan while sighting it toward the British riflemen across the river. Alex fired a wild shot at a patch of a red that he had picked out on the far ridge. Then he, General Washington and Robert jumped up and ran back away from the bank to find some cover from the British snipers hidden just across the river.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Damn, just missed my chance at him," said Captain Ferguson as he watched the rebel rider dive off his running horse and tackle the two men who had been perfect targets with their backs to him across the river.

He had just spoken the last word when a musket ball fired from across the river by the buckskin-clad man struck him in the right elbow. The impact of the musket ball caused him to drop his rifle and roll over onto his back in pain, grasping his bleeding and splintered elbow with his left hand.

"Get me out of here," commanded Captain Ferguson as his nearby men helped him up and carried him back to his horse. They helped him mount his horse and rode back with him to Kennett Square to find a doctor.

Captain Ferguson had no idea that the shot he did not fire might have killed General George Washington. All he knew was that he was aiming at a Continental Army officer with his back turned to him. If he had killed General Washington, it could have changed the course of the Revolutionary War. But instead, his shattered elbow would take him out of the war for an extended period, maybe for good.

When Captain Ferguson reached Kennett Square, a British surgeon examined the wound. The doctor determined that he could only put a field dressing on it and put his arm into a sling. Further evaluation and possible surgery would have to wait until the arm could be examined more closely in Philadelphia.

* * * *

Samuel

"General Howe, I am the Prophet. I know that we have never met in person. I made all the arrangements with General Gage initially, before he returned to England, and have been working on your behalf ever since," said Samuel.

"Ah, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I am happy that you were able to meet with me," said General Howe.

"Washington has no idea that you are flanking him. Even if he did, it is too late for him to react," said Samuel.

"Excellent news, I want to thank you for the service that you have rendered to the crown. As soon as my men rest for an hour, we will march down to Chadds Ford and take care of the rebels. Is there any way that you can continue to serve the British cause for the time being?"

"I don't see why not. No one knows where I am right now. If I leave immediately and return to my duties, no one will be the wiser."

"Good, you will continue to coordinate your activities directly with Captain Ferguson of my command, through your intermediaries. He will use his intermediaries, such as the Eagle Spy to contact you."

"That is agreeable. I had best get on my way in order not to be missed and create suspicion."

"It was a pleasure to finally meet you and be able to wish you good luck in person. I have big plans for you after this war is over, which should be very soon, maybe even today," said General Howe.

"The pleasure was all mine. Good luck to you, General. I eagerly await your orders at any time," said Samuel as he shook hands with General Howe.

Samuel mounted up very quickly and spurred his horse south toward Chadds Ford, along the same River Road he had ridden north on earlier.

He had ridden about five miles from the location where the British Army under General Howe rested when a group of Continental Army cavalry soldiers rode out of the trees to intercept him. The leader of the band was a giant of a man that looked familiar to Samuel. The giant rode right up to him and grabbed the reins of his horse.

"Hello, Ruskin," said Hugh with a grin.

"It's Major Ruskin and let go of my horse or I'll have you in front of a court martial, you big oaf," replied Samuel Ruskin.

"Ye are not having anyone before a court martial. As a matter of fact, I'm going to kill ye and then bury ye in a shallow grave in yon trees over my shoulder."

"I am a major in the Continental Army, and I intend to see that you pay for that," said Samuel.

"Weel, as I see it, ye are no longer a major in any army. Ye are a spy and a traitor, and ye have to pay for yer crimes."

"I demand to see General Washington," said Samuel, eyeing all the men behind Hugh.

"Ye don't remember me do ye?"

"I have never laid eyes on you in my life," replied Samuel with an uneasy feeling that he had encountered Hugh before but couldn't remember the exact circumstances.

Samuel knew that the circumstances must not have been good since he had blotted it out of his mind. He also knew that he was in trouble. He was thinking hard, trying to find a way out, but nothing was coming to him.

"'Twas me what cold cocked ye in that tavern in Larne, a few years back," said Hugh as he saw the recognition dawn in Samuel's eyes.

"Why do you call me a spy and a traitor?"

"We followed the girl, who ye sent to Captain Ferguson, and then we saw ye come and go from her tent. It was Jonas here who first laid eyes on ye," said Hugh, motioning toward Jonas with his open hand, and Jonas nodded in agreement.

"But that's enough talk. Do ye prefer a blindfold or not?"

Samuel jerked hard on the reins of his horse and pulled them out of Hugh's grasp. He spurred his mount into a dead run back north on the road with Hugh and his men close on his heels. If he could make it to the British Army and General Howe, he would be safe, even though his career as a spy was over. Hugh had anticipated the move and had Big Mike and two men stationed about a quarter mile to the north, where the trail narrowed by a heavy stand of trees on both sides of the trail. When Big Mike saw Major Ruskin riding at a gallop north on the road, he and his two companions rode out of the trees and blocked the trail. Major Ruskin reined his horse and slowed to avoid a collision with Big Mike and his men, since he could not pass them on either side.

Hugh caught up quickly, dismounted, and walked up to Samuel Ruskin, who was still sitting on his horse. Hugh grabbed Samuel around the waist, pulled him off his horse and threw him on the ground. Samuel rolled to his feet with a wild-eyed look. He knew that he was in mortal danger and his entire demeanor changed. He turned to face Hugh with a scowl.

"You hit me when I wasn't looking back in Larne. Are you man enough to try me again?" asked Samuel as he pulled his knife from his belt sheath and squared off with Hugh, intending to fight him.

Hugh laughed at him and then turned around and walked back to where Jonas and Big Mike were standing, after having dismounted. As Hugh was getting ready to speak to Jonas and Big Mike, Clem Jackson rode up and dismounted.

"What did you see, Clem?" asked Hugh.

"Major Ruskin was escorted into the British Army camp, where he must have had a short conversation with someone because he didn't stay long. When he was finished, he rode out and I followed him down here where you all must have caught him," said Clem.

"Clem, I want you to take the men and ride south. I don't want them to get caught by the British if this lasts longer than I think it will. I don't want them to witness what is going to happen to this wee rat," said Hugh, motioning over his shoulder at Samuel Ruskin.

After Clem left with the men, Hugh turned to Big Mike and Jonas.

"If Ruskin kills me in this fight, I want ye two to kill him," Hugh said to Jonas and Big Mike in a whisper so that Samuel Ruskin couldn't hear him.

"It'd be my pleasure," replied Big Mike softly as he cocked the flintlock of the pistol in his belt.

Big Mike and Jonas nodded at Hugh and then stepped back to give Hugh some room. Jonas pulled out his rifle from its sheath, primed the pan and cocked his flintlock. Hugh turned back and walked over to where Samuel Ruskin was waiting.

"Jonas and Big Mike, stay out of this. This is between Ruskin and me," said Hugh, loud enough for the two men to hear him. Hugh never took his eyes off Samuel Ruskin while he was speaking. Then he reached down and pulled a knife from his boot sheath that was made by his father, John Mackenzie.

The only four men left standing in the trail were Samuel, Hugh, Big Mike and Jonas.

* * * *

Alex

"Robert, you're a madman. Are you alright?" asked Alex.

"Alex, I'm fine. I was looking for you and General Washington at the headquarters, but they told me you were down here. As I was riding down here, I spied some redcoat snipers aiming at you and the general from across the river. I thought if I yelled, you would pause and look up, and that would alert the British snipers, so I rode as fast as I could to get you two on the ground. I didn't hear a shot from the other side, so I guess I was in time. Besides, I remember that you used the same maneuver to take down a number of Hessians at the Battle of Trenton last year to save Hugh and me," panted the out-of-breath Robert as he turned to speak to General Washington.

"General Washington, there is a large British force flanking us from the north. We encountered them about a mile or so south of Sconneltown. They must have forded the Brandywine north of where we had men stationed. I suspect that we have only about an hour or so before they get here," continued Robert.

"Thank you for that report. We had better get going to redeploy our troops to meet this new attack. Lieutenant Mackenzie, I want you to take your men and ride north as fast as you can. Delay the British advance with ambushes just like you did from Maidenhead to Trenton. Now if you two gentlemen will excuse me, I have a lot of work to do," said General Washington.

"Yes, sir," replied Alex and Robert in unison.

General Washington mounted his horse and took off at a gallop toward his headquarters. Alex turned to look at the smiling Robert with a questioning expression on his face.

"Do you think you hit anyone with that wild shot of yours?" asked Robert.

"I don't know. I was aiming at a patch of red that looked like a red coat's sleeve," replied Alex.

"I wonder who the general was referring to when he said you two gentlemen?" asked Robert.

"Well, it obviously wasn't you and me," replied the smiling Alex.

"Let's ride," said Robert as they mounted up and turned their horses away from the river and the danger of redcoat snipers. They gathered up the Longhunter and the men that had ridden south with Alex and rode north to delay the enemy's advance on Chadds Ford as much as they could.

* * * *

Samuel

Hugh wasn't a skillful knife fighter like Alex or Robert, especially Robert, who was very deadly with a knife. Hugh was more of a tap room brawler who didn't know or understand the subtleties of fighting with a knife. He tended to wade right in and mix it up without any of the preliminaries or preambles, such as circling or sizing up one's opponent. Hugh depended mainly on his great strength rather than speed or technique. He fought like a bull rather than a fox.

"It's time give yerself a kiss goodbye," said Hugh as he faced Samuel, holding his knife at the ready.

"What are the rules?" asked Samuel.

"There ain't gang to be nae rules," answered Hugh.

Hugh knew that Samuel Ruskin would try to buy some time with talk in hopes that General Howe or at least the leading elements of General Howe's army would arrive at the fight and cause the patriots to flee. But Hugh wasn't about to let that happen. He started the fight by rushing at Samuel with a full speed straight-on knife thrust, using a stabbing motion.

Samuel sidestepped Hugh's thrust and countered with a viscous swipe with his knife across Hugh's side and back as Hugh went by him. Hugh's buckskin jacket, which had been hardened by sweat and rain, prevented the knife slash from breaking his skin. But the knife left a deep slice in Hugh's jacket.

Hugh turned and faced Samuel for another charge, but Samuel was quicker and lunged at Hugh with a straight on thrust that was similar to Hugh's opening move. Hugh blocked the thrust with his left hand and followed with a slash aimed at Samuel's throat.

Samuel leaned back to avoid the slash at his throat and countered with another swipe at Hugh's chest. Hugh followed with another straight on thrust at Samuel. Samuel blocked the thrust with his left hand and grabbed the wrist of Hugh's hand that was holding his knife. Samuel then turned around and pulled Hugh's arm over his shoulder. Samuel placed his own knife between his teeth and grasped Hugh's arm with both hands. He then bent down, pulling Hugh's arm and flipping Hugh over him and down on the ground on his back.

Hugh was dazed by the flip and a little stunned from the fall. The technique that Samuel had used was a classic maneuver that John Mackenzie had taught all of his sons. He had also taught them how to counter it by grasping your opponent with your free hand and taking him to the ground with you. Hugh had obviously forgotten or had never learned that lesson and was now in trouble.

Samuel reached up and grasped his knife from his teeth, dropped down to one knee and stabbed it downward toward Hugh's throat. Hugh was barely able to pull his head to the side to avoid the strike. Samuel's knife went right past Hugh's throat into the ground. As the knife sliced directly into the ground, it struck a large, buried rock. The point of the knife blade struck the rock with full force, and the impact caused Samuel's knife blade to break off at the haft, rendering it a useless weapon.

Samuel tossed his knife haft aside and stood up to face Hugh without a knife. Hugh also groggily got to his feet, still holding his knife and grinning at Samuel like a wolf. Samuel knew it was over; his eyes darted around and he had the look of a frightened deer. Hugh unexpectedly turned and threw his knife over to where Big Mike and Jonas were standing.

"I wouldn't want to just slaughter ye like the rat ye be," said Hugh.

"That was a mistake, big man," said Samuel who reached down and pulled a back-up knife from a sheath concealed under his shirt. He then lunged at Hugh before Hugh could walk over and retrieve the knife he had just tossed aside. Hugh easily dodged the lunge.

Hugh was offended rather than angered by the underhanded maneuver. His innate sense of fair play at first couldn't comprehend the violation of the unspoken rules. Samuel saw the puzzled look on Hugh's face.

"There ain't nae rules in a knife fight," said Samuel mocking Hugh and making another straight-on thrust at the defenseless Hugh.

But Hugh's mind blanked out the analysis of the situation, and he turned into a bare-handed, cold killing machine. He side-stepped the thrust and used Samuel's forward momentum and his own great strength to grab Samuel's arm and pull him forward. As Samuel stumbled forward, passing by him, Hugh grasped Samuel from behind and wrapped his arms around Samuel's head. With a powerful twisting motion, Hugh turned Samuel's head past the point where it could turn naturally and broke his neck, killing him instantly. Samuel's dead body relaxed in Hugh's grasp and slumped to the ground as Hugh released him. Hugh dropped his arms to his sides and stared at the lifeless Samuel while he regained his breath.

Jonas and Big Mike walked up to Hugh, standing over the dead Samuel Ruskin.

"Let's get this rat buried as quickly as possible," said Hugh.

They dragged Samuel's body into the trees just off the road and dug a shallow grave, dumped Samuel's body into the hole and hastily covered it in a thin layer of dirt. Then they scattered leaves and brush over the grave to conceal it.

"Mount up; let's ride," said Hugh as he mounted his horse and Big Mike and Jonas followed.

No one except Hugh, Jonas, and Big Mike would ever know the location of Samuel's grave. They were the only three men who even knew that Samuel Ruskin was dead.

* * * *

Alex

"We've delayed them all we can. Let's ride back and join the main force," said Alex to his men.

Riding north, Alex, Robert, the Longhunter, and his men had first met Clem Jackson and his troops as they south on the River Road to Sconneltown. Alex turned them around and they all continued north. Then they met Hugh, Jonas and Big Mike a short time later. They also turned them around to ride back to the north. Alex's mission had been to delay General Howe's army. They had fought the delaying action from south of Sconneltown, where they first encountered the British main forces, all the way to Chadds Ford. But they were not able to slow the progress of the British Army very much because it was moving down the road like a giant elephant. When they arrived at Chadds Ford, General Washington was already making preparations to hold against two fronts. Howe was coming against his right flank, and Lieutenant-General Baron Wilhelm von Knyphausen was crossing Chadds Ford against his main front.

"There are too many of them. We're going to have trouble holding them on two fronts," said General Washington.

It wasn't long before Howe's army broke through the right flank of General Washington's troops. The general was able to redeploy enough men to hold off Howe long enough for the main body of troops to escape to the northeast. It wasn't long until the entire Continental Army was in full retreat. General Washington gave the order to reassemble in Chester, Pennsylvania, but the Battle of the Brandywine was lost, leaving Philadelphia exposed to the British Army invasion.

After winning the battle at Chadds Ford, General Howe marched his army directly to Philadelphia, arriving there a few days after the battle. He wasted no time taking and occupying Philadelphia and making it his winter quarters. General Washington marched his army to Valley Forge, Pennsylvania and occupied it as his winter quarters. After they arrived at Valley Forge, Alex called a meeting with Robert, Hugh, the Longhunter, Big Mike, and Jonas.

"We are the only ones other than General Washington and Molly who know the fate of Samuel Ruskin. We can still use the Prophet to feed the British false information for a while until they catch on to it, but that's not why I called us together. We need to rescue Molly's sister from Samuel Ruskin's men in Philadelphia."

After the battle at Chadds Ford, Alex had located Molly in the camp followers' tent area and told her about Ruskin's death. She had responded by collapsing on her cot in relief and then sobbing out the story of her sister Maggie, and the threat to Maggie's safety that Ruskin had held over her head. They knew that she was sympathetic to their cause. She hated Samuel Ruskin and desperately wanted to free her sister Maggie from the clutches of Samuel Ruskin's men.

"Molly can help us, but someone is going to have to slip into Philadelphia with her and save her sister. Who knows the most about Philadelphia?" asked Alex.

Alex already knew the answer to his question, but he wanted a volunteer rather than have to order someone to go there and carry out the mission.

"That would be me," answered Big Mike Finn.

"Do you think you could get in without being caught by the British?" asked Alex.

"Aye, of course I can. It'd be as easy as a stroll in the clover," replied Big Mike.

"Okay, here's the plan," said Alex. "Big Mike and Molly will be disguised as a merchant and his wife. Big Mike will walk into Philadelphia with Molly and go directly to Ruskin's men who are running his business for him. Big Mike will pose as a man who works for Samuel Ruskin here in the army. Ruskin has sent his man to Philadelphia to collect Maggie because he needs both women to do his dirty work. Ruskin's men in Philadelphia won't know that Ruskin is dead, so they won't have any reason to suspect the ruse. They probably don't care what happens to the women anyway.

"Robert, who is an excellent forger, by the way, will write a letter in Ruskin's handwriting for Big Mike to carry with him as his orders. Big Mike will tell his tale and produce the letter as his authorization to collect Maggie. Big Mike will have Molly with him to point him in the right direction and to help him with any bumps in the road that he might encounter on the way there. After they collect Maggie, they high tail it back here to Valley Forge, so we can figure out how to continue to use Molly and Maggie to feed false information to the British," said Alex.

"Shouldn't be much of a problem," said Big Mike Finn.

"Let's find Molly and see what she thinks about our plan," said Alex.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"We're going to have to operate on your damaged right elbow," said the surgeon.

"You mean it won't just heal on its own?" asked Captain Ferguson.

"No it won't. It has some embedded bone splinters that need to be cleaned out. We also need to repair some of the damage that the musket ball did to the muscles and ligaments," replied the surgeon.

Captain Ferguson was lying flat on his back in a hospital in Philadelphia where a team of doctors, both British and American, had evaluated his injury and come to a collective opinion about it.

"What's the worst outcome of the surgery?" asked Captain Ferguson.

"If we find it is bad enough, we might have to amputate your arm at the elbow, but we don't think it will come to that. As far as prognosis goes, you could lose the use of your arm. However, it could result in a full recovery. We just don't know at this point," said the surgeon.

"When do you want to do the surgery?" asked the captain.

"The sooner, the better," replied the surgeon.

"Okay, but I don't want my arm amputated no matter how bad the injury is," stated Captain Ferguson.

He knew that an amputation of his arm meant the end of his military career, and he desperately wanted to stay in the army.

"We'll do what we can," replied the surgeon.

Captain Ferguson survived the surgery and several more follow up surgeries, all of which were performed without anesthesia and extremely painful. It took his arm months to recover. When his arm finally healed, it was permanently bent, and he had limited use of it. But he learned to shoot and wield a sword left-handed and eventually became very proficient using his left hand. It wasn't long before he was again leading raids against the Continental Army.

During the time he was in the hospital, his company of green-clad riflemen with their Ferguson rifles had been disbanded. His men were reassigned to regular fighting units. The Ferguson rifle was dropped in favor of the less expensive Brown Bess and other general purpose arms. Most of the Ferguson rifles gathered dust in a British warehouse, and then, after the war, almost all of them would be destroyed. The highly touted and very promising Ferguson rifle would end up having very little impact on the war. But Captain Ferguson's military career was still far from over.

* * * *

Big Mike

"Halt! Who goes there?" shouted the British Army sentry.

"Michael Finn of Philadelphia and his wife," replied Big Mike.

"What is your business here?" asked the sentry.

"My wife and I live here in Philadelphia. We have been away on business for the last several weeks. We're just now returning home this morning. We have always been loyal to the crown," answered Big Mike.

"Do you have any weapons?" asked the sentry.

"No, sir," replied Big Mike.

Big Mike did not in fact have a weapon on his person. He and Molly had stopped before they approached the British Army check point, and Big Mike had asked Molly to hide his pistol under her skirts. She hid his pistol and without a very close personal search, no one could tell that Molly was carrying the pistol. The sentry asked Big Mike to open his coat and gave him a very casual pat down search. After the sentry searched Molly's handbag, he was satisfied that they were not a threat.

"If you have been away several weeks, where is your baggage?" asked the suspicious sentry.

"We shipped our belongings ahead so that we would not have to deal with them while traveling," answered Big Mike.

"You may pass," said the sentry, who was now anxious to get back to his fire and his comrades.

After much deliberation and argument with Alex, Robert, and Hugh, it had been decided that rather than have Molly and Big Mike try to sneak past the guards into Philadelphia, it might be best to use a ruse and a more direct approach. That was when Robert and Alex came up with the idea of a businessman who had left on a business trip before the occupation by the British Army returning to Philadelphia. Big Mike and Molly, who were dressed like a middle class merchant and his wife, walked through the British check point and into the city of Philadelphia.

After they had cleared the check point and were safely out of sight of the sentries, Molly gave the pistol back to Big Mike. Mike made sure that the pan was primed with gunpowder. He replaced it in his belt, to the side, where it could not be seen with his coat buttoned and covering it.

"That was easier than I suspected it would be," said Molly.

"Yes, it was, but I don't think the British care too much about one man or one woman when there are hundreds of Americans here in Philadelphia. Let's see if we can find Maggie and get out of Philadelphia as quickly as possible," said Big Mike as the couple walked further into the heart of Philadelphia.

"Let's stick to the plan and find an inn that's open, so you will have a place to stay while I go get Maggie," continued Big Mike.

"I want to go with you to get Maggie," said Molly flatly.

"That wasn't the plan that Alex and Robert came up with for us to follow. Remember the meeting we had with them to plan this rescue?"

"I know it isn't, but I think we'll have a better chance if I am with you, since I have seen the men before. And when Maggie sees me, she will understand the plan and will want to come with me," replied Molly.

"I don't know if your presence will help or hurt, but rather than stand here in the middle of the road and argue with you, let's get this over with."

"You won't regret it," said Molly.

"That's what they all say," replied Big Mike with a grimace.

They walked past the heart of Philadelphia to the docks, where Samuel Ruskin's warehouses were located. Molly led them to the small offices in the back of the warehouse where Samuel's henchmen could usually be found. Big Mike unbuttoned his coat so that he could have ready access to his pistol, opened the door and walked in, with Molly following him. They strolled up to a man who was working at a desk writing in a ledger book.

"Who's in charge here?" asked Big Mike.

"Who wants to know?" asked the man, looking up from his work at Big Mike and Molly. The man recognized Molly immediately, but tried to act like he didn't know her. Big Mike had detected that the man's eyes had widened just a bit when he looked at Molly, so he knew he was in the right place.

"I work for Samuel Ruskin, and he has sent me to collect a young woman named Maggie," Big Mike stated emphatically.

"I don't know any Samuel Ruskin or any Maggie," said the man, who was still sitting at the desk.

"Well, in that case, I guess I'll have to go back and tell Major Ruskin that no one here in his warehouses knows him," said Big Mike as he turned around to walk out of the room.

"Hold on there, pilgrim," said the man. "Let me check with the warehouse straw boss."

The man stood up from his desk chair and walked out of the office and into the warehouse in search of his superior.

* * * *

Alex

Valley Forge was a cold and snowy winter camp. The officers made every attempt to train the men, but the weather didn't always cooperate. Most of their time was spent trying to stay fed and stay warm.

"Lieutenant Mackenzie, I doubt that this war will be won in the northern colonies. A turning point must be achieved in the southern colonies to turn the tide of this war in our favor. I hope this doesn't come as too much of a shock to you, but I want you to transfer to the southern colonies and help create that turning point in the war for me. I know that I am asking a lot of you, but we all must sacrifice if we are going to win this war. I think that you are just the man for this job," said General Washington to the stunned Alex.

"What do you mean by a turning point, sir?" asked Alex.

"I'm not sure right now, but I think that you and I will know it when it happens," replied the general.

"I'm going to discharge you from the northern Continental Army here at Valley Forge, Lieutenant Mackenzie, but before I do, I am going to promote you to the rank of captain. I want you to travel south and then west to the frontier to Fort Patrick Henry or to Fort Watauga. There are groups of men located out there who are good fighters, but they need direction. They also need a burr under their saddles to get them moving in this war. When you get there, I want you to help organize them, direct them, and spur them on. We need to get those men into this fight more than they have been in the past.

"Your discharge papers will show that you are leaving the northern Continental Army as a captain, and I expect the military commanders out there to honor your rank in the southern Continental Army. Take your brothers and Alexander Glendenning and any others that you wish to take with you. I would like to keep Michael Finn here with me when he gets back from Philadelphia. I want him to take over Major Ruskin's role as the Prophet and continue to feed the British false information for a while. As soon as the British catch on to the false Prophet, I will either keep him here or send him south to you. Your other men that you do not take south with you will be reassigned to other units," said the general.

"I would like to take Jonas Dunne and his partner Clem Jackson with me also," said Alex.

"That's fine; I will include their discharge papers along with the others," said General Washington.

"It may take you a while to gain the confidence of these fiercely independent men on our southern frontier, but they are very important to our cause of liberty. I think that they have a bigger role to play in our struggle than they have had so far. I wish you luck, Captain Mackenzie," concluded General Washington.

"Thank you, sir. I will carry out your orders to the best of my ability," replied Alex as General Washington rose out of his chair to shake hands with him.

Alex left General Washington's tent and sought out Robert and Hugh to tell them the news. He found them trying to stay warm by a fire, near where their horses were tied.

"It looks like we are headed south out of Valley Forge for the winter," said Alex to Robert and Hugh.

"I hope it is warmer wherever we are going," replied Hugh.

"When do we leave?" asked Robert.

"As soon as we can round up Alexander, Jonas, and Clem; they are going with us," replied Alex.

"Where exactly are we headed?" asked Hugh.

"Fort Watauga, I think. General Washington mentioned Fort Patrick Henry also, but I think I like the sound of Fort Watauga better," answered Alex.

"And where is that?" asked Hugh.

"It is located in western North Carolina on the frontier. We need to pack up our gear and ride west out of here as soon as possible. We should be able to pick up The Great Wagon Road somewhere near Lancaster and follow it down to Big Lick. Then we will have to travel west to get over the mountains and to Fort Watauga. But on the way, we'll need to stop at Williamsport and pick up my wife," replied Alex.

"YOUR WIFE?" shouted Robert and Hugh simultaneously, staring at Alex with their mouths agape and eyes wide open.

"When were you planning on telling us that ye are married?" asked Hugh.

"I thought I would wait and surprise you," said the grinning Alex.

"Weel, you've been a busy wee hare, haven't ye laddie?" said Hugh with an exasperated look.

"She is going to go with us to Fort Watauga, but she doesn't know it yet," said Alex.

"That could prove to be very interesting," said Robert, who usually didn't have anything to say.

* * * *

Big Mike

"I know you," said the man who walked in from the warehouse with the underling that had gone to fetch him. "You're Big Mike Finn who used to lead the dock workers here in Philadelphia."

"That's right. What of it?" asked Big Mike, who hadn't expected to be recognized and was shocked a bit by it. But he recovered quickly.

"Nothing really, I heard that you quit the docks and joined the army," said the warehouse straw boss.

"I did, but that's neither here nor there. Major Ruskin has sent me here to pick up Maggie, the girl you are holding, and take her with me back to the camp at Valley Forge," said Big Mike.

"He did, did he? How do I know you're telling me the truth?" asked the boss.

"Well, there're three reasons, one of which is me telling you and another of which is Molly standing right here beside me. You know Molly, don't you? She's Maggie's sister, and Major Ruskin sent her with me to pick up Maggie. And the third reason is this written order from Major Ruskin himself," said Big Mike, pulling out from his coat pocket the order that Robert had forged.

Big Mike handed the order to the warehouse straw boss. The man took the letter from Big Mike, walked over to sit in the chair behind the desk, and studied the order for a few minutes. Of course he knew Molly; they had held her for some time with her sister Maggie until Major Ruskin had taken Molly with him and left Maggie behind. He and all the men had had their fun with both Molly and Maggie. They were still having fun with Maggie and didn't want to let her go. Both girls had been the prisoners of Samuel Ruskin and his men. Each of them had been forced to do anything that was asked of them, and to constantly satisfy any wishes that the men might have, under threat of harm to the other.

"Do you mind if I check something on this order?" asked the straw boss.

"You can check anything you like," replied Big Mike.

The man then reached down to open one of the desk drawers and pulled a few documents out of it. Big Mike thought he was comparing Robert's forged Samuel Ruskin signature with some real Samuel Ruskin signatures on the documents that he had pulled from the desk. And in fact, he was.

"This signature doesn't look quite right," said the straw boss with a frown.

"Maybe you should come back to Valley Forge with me and the women and tell that to Major Ruskin," replied Big Mike.

"How about I hold you, Molly, and Maggie until Major Ruskin comes back and tells me what's what," said the straw boss as he reached for a pistol in the open desk drawer.

Big Mike had anticipated the boss's move to pick up the pistol and was faster drawing his own pistol. He opened his coat and pulled his pistol out of his belt quickly. He aimed it at the straw boss before the man had the chance to pull the pistol out of the desk drawer.

"Hold on there, friend. Why don't you just leave that pistol where it is right now? I don't think the major would like very much if you shot me, and I'm kinda in a hurry right now," said Big Mike as he casually cocked the flintlock of his pistol.

"Why don't you tell your friend here to go get Maggie?" said Big Mike as he waved the pistol toward the underling and then pointed the pistol back toward the boss.

The boss hesitated for a few heartbeats and then took his hand off the pistol, stood up and nodded to the underling, who walked out of the room to get Maggie. Big Mike could taste the tension in the air. That was exactly how he wanted it as he sighted down the pistol toward the boss. Big Mike was a battle-hardened member of the Continental Army, a veteran of several engagements. He had no problem pointing a pistol at a soft town man and pulling the trigger.

"There's no reason to get hasty with that there pistol," said the straw boss, holding up his hands and waving them in a backing off motion.

"I don't intend to unless you have other ideas about keeping me from doing the job that Major Ruskin ordered me to do," said the steely-eyed Big Mike.

The underling soon reappeared in the office holding Maggie by the arm. As soon as she saw Molly, she broke free of his grasp and ran into Molly's arms as the two sisters hugged and sobbed softly. Big Mike motioned with the pistol for the underling to move over beside the boss.

"There're two of us, and you've only got one ball in that pistol," said the straw boss, pointing at the pistol.

"That may be true, but you will be first to die if you try anything," replied Big Mike.

"Let's get out of here," said Big Mike to the two women.

It was a standoff, so Big Mike and the two women walked toward the office door. Big Mike was in the rear, walking backwards, all the while pointing the pistol at the two men. As Big Mike reached the door, the straw boss made a desperate grab for the pistol in the drawer. Big Mike had expected it and fired a shot into the man's chest. The warehouse straw boss fell to the floor, clutching his chest. Big Mike used the distraction of the shot to cover the few steps between him and the straw boss's underling. He struck the underling over the head with the empty pistol barrel as the man looked down at his fallen superior. The blow knocked the underling unconscious and he collapsed to the floor beside his boss.

"Well, it's been a pleasure doing business with you two gentlemen. I'll let Major Ruskin know how cooperative you've been," said Big Mike to no one who was listening to him.

He closed the office door behind him and hurried off with the two women. Big Mike put the pistol back into his belt as he and the two women left at a fast walk, away from the warehouse and docks. They hoped that the pistol shot would go unnoticed and not bring anyone right away. They didn't hesitate and immediately found the road out of Philadelphia, walking as fast as they could without attracting attention.

Before they approached the sentries, Big Mike asked Maggie to hide his pistol again, which she did as before. They slowed to a casual walk as they approached the sentries. Luck was with them, and the sentries had been changed since they had entered the city. When they had passed the soldiers at the check point and were safely out of sight, they ran for some distance away from Philadelphia. Then, when they were certain that there was no pursuit, they slowed to a walk as they set out on the road to make their way back toward Valley Forge, where the Continental Army was camped for the winter.

Big Mike had not thought about it before, but as he looked at the two women, he was amazed at how much they looked alike.

"I didn't realize how much you two favored each other," said Big Mike to Molly and Maggie.

"Of course we do; we're twins, Mike," answered Molly.

"Maybe it's time for introductions. My Christian name is Mary Ludwig and this is my sister Margaret Ludwig. You can call us Molly and Maggie. Everyone else does," said Molly as she took Big Mike's arm with one hand and Maggie's hand with the other and continued to walk toward Valley Forge.

* * * *

* * * *

Kings Pinnacle Part 5

Alex

"Martha Kelly, I'd like you to meet my two older brothers, Robert and Hugh," said Alex as he motioned toward his two brothers standing beside him.

"It's nice to meet you at last. Alex has told me so much about you," said Martha.

Martha gave Robert and Hugh each a hug and then backed off to stand beside Alex while still looking at Robert and Hugh. Robert and Hugh both had to bend down quite a bit to hug the tiny Martha who stood only a little over five feet tall.

"Aye, we deny everything that this skinny runt of a March Hare has said about us. But yer a bonny wee lass and from what Alex has told us, yer a good match for him," said Hugh, smiling at Martha and pointing at Alex.

"Welcome to the Mackenzie family," said Robert with a grin as he raked his left hand through his hair to smooth it back, momentarily exposing his battle scar from Breeds Hill. The gesture reminded Martha of the same one Alex used constantly.

The brothers had ridden southwest from Valley Forge to find The Great Wagon Road. They had then followed the same road Alex had taken when he first arrived in America. The road went west through Lancaster and then west southwest to York, Pennsylvania. They had followed the trail further southwest to Gettysburg and finally across the first Blue Ridge mountain range to Hagerstown and Williamsport, where Martha was waiting for Alex. The plan Alex had devised was to resupply in Williamsport, collect Martha, and then travel southwest as soon as possible. They would continue following The Great Wagon Road further south, on its way to Georgia.

The proposed route led from Williamsport to Winchester, Virginia. Beyond Winchester, the trail could only be traversed via horseback, since it was too rough and narrow for wagons. At Winchester the trail changed names and was called The Great Warrior's Trail. The Great Warrior's Trail led all the way south through Virginia to the North Carolina border, where The Great Wagon Road again changed names and became The Carolina Road, which would run all the way to Augusta, Georgia.

Alex planned to follow The Great Warrior's Trail as far south as Big Lick. At Big Lick, Alex and his party intended to turn off the trail and follow a western trail that would eventually lead to The Wilderness Road that began at Fort Patrick Henry. This trail ran west southwest from Big Lick toward Shelby's Fort on the Virginia and North Carolina border and then further southwest to Fort Patrick Henry. From there, a trail that ran south along the banks of the south fork of the Holston and the Watauga Rivers would lead them to Fort Watauga, located at the Sycamore Shoals of the Watauga River.

The trail from Big Lick to Fort Watauga was very lightly traveled and very dangerous. In 1775, a longhunter named Daniel Boone had been hired by the Transylvania Company, a trading company made up of prominent North Carolinians, to cut a trail from Fort Patrick Henry west through the Cumberland Gap into Kentucky. This trail was called The Wilderness Road. The trading company had purchased the land along the trail from the Cherokee tribes that claimed ownership of the land. The entire route from Big Lick to the western frontier cut right through the heart of the Cherokee territory.

A band of Cherokees who had violently objected to the sale of their land to the Transylvania Company, and subsequently to the settlers who followed, separated from the Cherokee nation. They formed a new tribe called the Chickamauga tribe. A Chickamauga chief named Dragging Canoe made constant attacks against the settlers. He and his band sided with the British against the colonists in the Revolutionary War, as did all the Cherokee affiliated tribes that made up the Cherokee nation. The British armed the Cherokee warriors with rifles and a large number of other weapons to fight the settlers.

It would take Alex and his party at least two months to travel the more than five hundred miles from Williamsport to Fort Watauga. Martha had already renewed her acquaintance with the Longhunter, Alexander Glendenning and had met Jonas Dunne and his partner Clem Jackson for the first time. She finally said goodbye to her uncle and aunt at the dry goods store in Williamsport and packed her few belonging, saddling up to ride south with the men.

When Martha walked out of the dry goods store to mount the roan pony she would ride on the trip, she was wearing buckskin trousers and moccasin boots that laced up to just below her knees. She also sported a tightly woven cotton shirt tucked neatly into her trousers. Her long brown hair was tied back and plaited into a braid, the end of which was tied with a leather strip. Her possessions, which consisted of only a few clothes and personal items, were stowed on the pack horses. These animals carried all the supplies that the party would need to camp, hunt, cook, and travel across the wilderness.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Captain Ferguson, I would like to introduce you to Sir Henry Clinton," said General Howe. "I have resigned the command of the British Army in the colonies and have been ordered to return to England. General Sir Henry Clinton will be my replacement in command of the British Army here."

"It is indeed an honor to meet you, sir, and congratulations on your advancement," said Captain Ferguson, bowing to General Clinton.

"Captain, I understand that you have done a fine job recovering from the devastating battle wound that you sustained during our Chadds Ford victory that was part of the Philadelphia campaign. But our position here in Philadelphia has now become untenable ever since the damned French have cast their lot with the colonists. As you know, our forces in the colonies have been greatly depleted. Since we have been supplying troops to the West Indies, we don't have enough men now to even defend Philadelphia. We do not have the naval transports necessary to move the men to New York by sea. That is why I intend to march the British Army back to New York overland. We must reinforce New York to prevent a French attack there. I would like for you to take command of my light cavalry unit and scout ahead of the army during the journey to New York," said General Clinton.

"Sir, it would be an honor to serve the crown in that capacity," formally replied Captain Ferguson who was very pleased with the assignment.

After extensive preparations, the British troops evacuated Philadelphia and began the one hundred mile march from Philadelphia, across New Jersey, to New York. The main British Army consisted of about eleven thousand troops including British regulars, colonial loyalists, and Hessians. The baggage train that followed the troops extended for almost twelve miles behind the main body of troops.

Captain Ferguson's light cavalry unit skirmished with the Continental Army troops beginning at almost the first mile of the trip.

"Sir, the rebels have burned some of the bridges on the trail ahead. My men have found some fords to cross the river, but it will delay our progress somewhat. We have also cleared some obstacles made from felled trees," reported Captain Ferguson to General Clinton.

"Very well. You have done excellent work, Captain Ferguson. We will follow your men to the ford and press on until we run out of daylight. Please continue to scout ahead, as I would like to reach Monmouth, New Jersey by midday," said General Clinton, dismissing the captain to return to his duties.

* * * *

Alex

It was an hour before daybreak when the warriors attacked the sleeping camp. It was a small group of Chickamauga warriors who carried out the raid, firing rifles and wielding tomahawks. Clem Jackson had been on watch when one of the Chickamauga warriors had crept up behind him as close as he could possibly get without alerting Clem. The warrior had fired an arrow into Clem's back just prior to the attack. Clem had managed to fire his pistol just before he died, alerting the sleeping camp and saving the lives of all the others. Since they had been traveling in Cherokee territory, they had each been taking two hour watches during the night to prevent being taken unawares. They did not blame Clem for the raid. The warning shot that Clem had fired gave them enough time to escape from the camp and save their lives. But unfortunately, Clem Jackson had forfeited his life in the process.

Alex, who was a light sleeper anyway, was instantly awake upon hearing Clem's pistol shot. Alex reached for Slayer and his powder horn and satchel and grabbed Martha's hand. He ran with her hand-in-hand away from the direction of the attack to escape into the trees. He and Martha circled around the camp in the dark and eventually met up with the others, who had also escaped the raid. Some had fought their way out of the camp. No one was badly wounded. There were a few scrapes and cuts that were quickly attended to, but nothing that would slow anyone down in a fight.

"Let's counterattack the camp immediately and see if we can drive them out," said Alex.

They formed a skirmish line with Alex in the middle and Robert and Hugh on each side of him. The Longhunter was on the far right flank and Jonas was on the far left flank. Martha followed a short way behind Alex. As the skirmish line moved back toward the camp using the leap frog technique that Robert and Hugh had perfected earlier in the war, they took turns firing their rifles at the warriors who now occupied their camp and then stopping to reload. This tactic kept up a fairly steady rate of rifle fire toward the camp site. Soon the warriors occupying the camp came to the conclusion that it would be prudent to flee before they were killed by the steady musket fire. Alex and his party did not give chase as it soon became apparent that the braves would not return. Some of their supplies had been pilfered, but there was no permanent damage done. By the time they got everything reorganized, the sun was well up above the horizon.

The warriors had gotten away with two of the horses but only a few of the supplies. The attack occurred a few days east of Shelby's Fort, so the loss of the supplies and the two horses would not be a great hardship. But the loss of Clem was keenly felt by everyone. A long trip in close quarters created a bond among the travelers, and Clem would be sorely missed.

Jonas took the loss of Clem very badly. They had been partners for many years. Jonas told the others that he would like to bury Clem by himself, without any help. The others respected his wish and let him accomplish the task alone.

"We might as well get back on the trail. There's nothing more we can do here," said Alex, since it was now full daylight, and Jonas had returned to the camp from his heartbreaking task.

"Jonas, why don't you ride along with me this morning," said the Longhunter, who was closer to both Jonas and Clem than anyone else in the group.

Jonas nodded his agreement, and they all mounted their horses to restart their journey. The Longhunter did not seek to replace Clem or partner with Jonas, but he did want to provide what comfort that he could to the grieving Jonas.

* * * *

Big Mike

"Mike, I would like for you to take charge of our cannon crews during the upcoming battle. We just lost our last cannon commander when his enlistment ended," said Captain Ellison McCoy.

"Yes, sir, but I'm not very well trained on aiming and firing yet," replied Big Mike.

"I understand that, but you'll pick it up quickly, and after the first few volleys, it won't matter much anyway. I need someone I can trust and someone who won't run at the first sign of trouble," said Ellison.

Big Mike had found a home in the Continental Army and in the artillery in particular. After he returned from his mission in Philadelphia, he had thought about traveling south to follow Alex, Robert, and Hugh. But in the end, he decided to stay with General Washington and the northern Continental Army.

He began learning to swab, load, and fire cannons, but now he had just been promoted to be in charge of all the cannons. He was well-liked by everyone, and he had proven to be a good leader. He and Molly had become very close after rescuing her sister Maggie in Philadelphia. They planned on getting married after the war was over and settling down in Pennsylvania. The sisters had remained inseparable since the rescue and were rarely out of each other's sight.

The Continental Army was now on the march, having left Valley Forge as soon as they heard about the British move. They were now following closely behind the British Army as it made its way from Philadelphia to New York. The Continental Army's battle plan was to attack the British at their rear as they passed through Monmouth, New Jersey, hopefully catching them unawares.

The weather was extremely hot for June 1778 in New Jersey. It was one hundred degrees Fahrenheit by noon, and the men and horses were sweating and drinking gallons of water. At almost every stream they crossed, they had to pause and replenish their water supply.

The Continental Army finally engaged the British rear echelons near Monmouth Courthouse and the British Army wheeled around to counterattack. The fighting became hot and heavy during the heat of the day as the two armies squared off against each other.

"Mike, I want you to set up the six-pound cannons on top of Combs Hill. Provide enfilading fire as the British attack. They may turn and try to attack your position and if they do, load with grapeshot and rake them royally," instructed Ellison.

Big Mike followed orders and led the horses pulling the caissons and cannons to a good firing position on top of the hill. When the British appeared, he assisted his gun crews with swabbing and loading the six-pound cannons as they opened fire on the British Army. It was hot work and the heat of the day combined with the heat of the cannons caused the men to tire rapidly. Molly and Maggie had followed Big Mike all the way to Combs Hill, where they were waiting near the rear, just down the hill with the horses and supplies. Mike walked part of the way down the hill and spied Molly and Maggie sitting under a tree in the shade.

"Molly, bring me a pitcher of water!" yelled Big Mike.

Molly stood up and waved her hand over her head indicating that she understood the request. She and Maggie searched for water and soon found a spring located near the bottom of the hill. Molly pulled a water pitcher from the supplies and baggage, filled it at the spring and then trotted up the hill to give Big Mike a drink.

The other men saw that Big Mike was getting a drink of water and they decided that they were thirsty too.

"Molly, can you bring me a pitcher of water, too?" yelled one of the men.

"I want one too," yelled another man.

"Molly, another pitcher please!" shouted another man.

Molly nodded and ran down the hill to enlist Maggie in the effort of carrying water to the thirsty men. Maggie also found a pitcher, and both young women started making trips up and down the hill between the spring and the thirsty men, carrying pitchers of water. Molly and Maggie were dressed alike that day, so it looked to some of them men as if Molly was doing all the work. It seemed like Molly was everywhere and inexhaustible. But it was really the two women who were working together.

"Molly. Pitcher!" shouted the exhausted Big Mike who was too tired to form a complete sentence.

Molly nodded, refilled the water pitcher and brought it to him once again. No sooner had she finished than there was another shout from one of the other cannon crews.

"Molly. Pitcher!" yelled the cannoneer.

Molly and Maggie were both working as hard as they could, bringing the soldiers water, but Molly seemed to be getting all the credit since the men were calling Maggie, Molly also.

The cannon firing went on and on until late afternoon. Big Mike worked the gun so fast and hard that finally he was exhausted and could do no more. He was forced to lie down on the grass and rest. Molly saw him collapse on the grass. She ran up the hill with a pitcher of water for him and took his place swabbing and loading the cannon. Maggie also joined another cannon crew swabbing and loading for a man who had been killed by enemy fire.

Just as Molly was loading a round in the cannon, a return volley of cannon fire from the British cannons struck her dress. As the cannon ball passed between her knees, it tore the bottom half of her skirt, leaving ragged strips of it hanging down to the ground. She was unhurt by the volley, so she reached down and tore the bottom half of her dress off so that the ragged pieces would not get tangled around her legs and ankles as she worked the gun.

"Molly, are you injured?" asked Big Mike.

"I'm fine," answered Molly. "It could have been worse."

The firing continued throughout the afternoon. At one point in the battle, General Washington rode up Combs Hill on his white charger, along with Captain Ellison McCoy, to issue some new orders for Big Mike to direct the cannon fire at new targets. He observed Molly and Maggie swabbing and loading the cannons.

"I want these women issued warrants as noncommissioned officers in the Continental Army," said General Washington to Captain McCoy.

"It will be done. I'll take care of it myself," replied Captain McCoy.

Finally, late in the afternoon, the order was passed to cease fire. The exhausted men and women laid down on the grass to rest and recuperate. Big Mike had finally rested enough to catch his breath, so he got up and walked down the hill. He grabbed a pitcher, filled it at the spring, and walked back up the hill to offer it to Molly.

"I think you deserve this," said Big Mike.

"Thanks, Mike, I appreciate it. I only hope that the men don't start calling me Molly Pitcher," said Molly with a smile. "I've heard that enough today."

* * * *

Alex

After the attack on their campsite, the journey to Shelby's Fort, to Fort Patrick Henry and then on to Fort Watauga took Alex and his party only seven more days in the saddle. Alex and everyone in his party were extremely trail weary when they finally pulled up their horses inside Fort Watauga and tied them up to a rail in front of the largest building inside the fort. Fort Watauga was located beside the Watauga River at a place called Sycamore Shoals, where the river could be crossed by wading across the shallow rocky bottom. Although the Cherokees now claimed the territory as a hunting ground, the settlement of the area around Fort Watauga actually predated the claim by the Cherokees. It was originally called the Watauga Old Fields because it was a flat, clear area where ancient Native American tribes gathered in council. It was discovered in 1759 by James Robertson and Daniel Boone, who were exploring the area at the time. Robertson stayed at the Watauga Old Fields and planted a corn crop, while Daniel Boone continued on to Kentucky. Daniel Boone later returned and moved his family to Fort Watauga for a while. But he soon left again and founded Boonesborough, Kentucky, to open up that territory to settlers.

The early residents who settled in and around Fort Watauga had formed the Watauga Association, which was in effect an independent regional government. The land around Fort Watauga itself was a part of the state of North Carolina, whose western border extended all the way to the Mississippi River. The Watauga settlers did not get along with the North Carolina tidewater gentry-led government of the east, so they mostly ignored them. The leaders of the governmental Watauga Association were James Robertson, who pioneered it, John Sevier, and John Carter. The military, or militia, was under the nominal command of Colonel John Sevier and Colonel Jonathan Tipton.

Colonel John Sevier was at the Nolichucky settlement overseeing the construction of Fort Lee when Alex arrived at Fort Watauga. So, while the others explored the fort, Alex reported to Colonel Jonathan Tipton, who was the only officer present at the fort.

"Captain Alex Mackenzie reporting as ordered," said Alex, standing in front of Colonel Tipton and handing him the sealed orders from General Washington.

Colonel Tipton opened the orders and read them through twice before he looked up at Alex again.

"Welcome to Fort Watauga, Captain Mackenzie. You may not be familiar with the military out here on the frontier, but things are a little less formal and a little less organized than they are back east and in General Washington's branch of the army. We spend most of our time out here trying to keep our families fed and fighting the Cherokees, who are aligned with the British. But we might be fighting the Cherokees anyway, even if they weren't aligned with the British, since they believe we are living on their land and hunting on their grounds. What are your plans, Captain Mackenzie?" asked Colonel Tipton.

"Well, to be honest, I haven't thought too much past getting here as General Washington ordered," replied Alex.

"If you plan on putting down roots here and being a part of the military as well as the community, allow me to suggest that you start by applying for a fifty acre homestead and building a cabin on it. The other thing to remember is that if you hear shots fired, run as quick as you can to get yourself and anyone else with you inside the fort," said Colonel Tipton.

"Good advice; I will do that," said Alex as he stood up to shake hands with the colonel.

Straightaway, Alex applied for and was granted fifty acres of land along Gap Creek, just south of Fort Watauga. He and the group he traveled with decided to camp on Alex's homestead until they could build a cabin and explore the land. They were all gathered in a camp on Alex's land the next morning.

"We'll help ye build a cabin in that clearing by the creek," said Hugh.

"You and everyone are welcome to stay with us; there'd be plenty of room," said Alex holding his arms out wide.

"Nae lad, Robber and I plan on applying for a job at a gunpowder mill located over on the Powder Branch since we are both experienced gunpowder mill workers. The mill is owned by couple named John and Mary Patton and word has it that they're looking for bright, young, strong lads to work in the mill. We'll be bunking over at the mill if things work out like we think they will. We also applied for and received fifty acres of land each. Our land is located near the powder mill on the Powder Branch. As soon as we can, we'll put up a cabin on our land, and ye can help us build it," replied Hugh as Robert nodded his assent.

"Jonas and I also applied for and got fifty acres of land each. Our land is further south and east along the Watauga River, and we plan on hunting and trapping for a living on our own place. So, as soon as we get your cabin built, we plan on moving on down the river a ways to our place," said the smiling Longhunter.

The men knew that Alex and Martha wanted some time alone. They knew that the young couple wanted to get to know each other better, spend some time together without the intrusions of having other people around, and perhaps start a family.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Captain Ferguson, our position has become very precarious against the Continental Army here at Monmouth. I want you to take your light cavalry unit and attack the forward elements of the rebels. Force them back to the main Continental Army lines near Monmouth Courthouse," commanded General Clinton.

"It would be my pleasure, sir," replied the cocky Captain Ferguson, who bowed to General Clinton and then mounted up to rejoin his troops.

The rebels were positioned behind a long hedge and well dug in. Captain Ferguson's unit attacked the front lines of the Continental Army three times and was driven back by grapeshot and gunshot each time. On his fourth attack, he successfully drove the rebels back to their main lines. Several of his men were killed or wounded during the attacks, but he accomplished his assigned mission without hesitation.

General Clinton was very grateful to Captain Ferguson for giving him the respite he needed. As soon as the sun went down, the two armies regrouped to decide their next moves. General Clinton called his officers together and asked for recommendations on how to proceed against the rebels.

"General, I suggest that we rest the men for an hour and then resume our march to New York during the night," said Captain Ferguson. "This should put some distance between our troops and the rebels. We should be able to reach the safety of New York well ahead of them."

"An excellent idea, Captain Ferguson; let's get that plan working," replied the general and immediately dismissed the staff meeting. He then put Captain Ferguson's plan into action by issuing the appropriate orders.

The British Army did in fact escape the Continental Army, arriving two days later at Sandy Hook, New Jersey, where they were met by British Navy boats and transported across the harbor to New York.

* * * *

Alex

"Alex, lad, what're ye up to?" asked Hugh sitting on horseback and looking down at Alex.

Robert and Hugh had first ridden up to Alex's cabin. They stopped there and asked Martha where Alex could be found. She had directed them to a clearing out behind the cabin after first insisting that they get down off their horses and eat something. The men had settled into life around Fort Watauga very well. They had lived there for over six months and built good lives for themselves in that short time.

"I might ask you the same question?" replied Alex.

"Weel now, Robber and I are out on an exploration mission for John and Mary Patton, but I asked ye first," replied Hugh with a grin.

"I have decided to become more proficient with a bow and arrow," said Alex. He had set up some archery targets and was practicing shooting at them at distances of up to fifty yards.

Alex had made a six foot longbow out of an elm branch and had fashioned several thirty inch poplar arrows and fletched them. He had knapped some flint arrowheads and attached them to the arrow shafts with strips of gut. After fletching the arrows with some bird feathers, Alex had tested his weapon. When Alex was a lad, he heard some of the old men tell tales about their grandfathers who were Scottish or English longbow men. They had made their longbows out of yew back in Great Britain. But there were no yew trees in America, so Alex had selected elm for his bow.

An English longbow could penetrate a knight's armor with an arrow at sixty yards, and it could kill at one hundred yards, but the days of armor and longbows in battle were long gone. By about 1600, firearms had largely displaced bows for military use, and Alex had never learned to fight with a bow and arrows. When Alex was a young lad, he and his friends made bows and arrows to use for hunting small animals back in Scotland. But he hadn't touched a bow in many years. He had become fairly proficient with the longbow when he was younger. Now he was rapidly regaining some of that lost expertise.

"And just why are you doing that?" asked Hugh.

"Well, the Cherokees who attacked us east of Shelby's Fort and my previous experiences with the Iroquois taught me a lesson about warfare on the frontier here in America. A bow and arrow make an excellent weapon under certain circumstances, such as if you need a weapon that is silent. Besides, the bow and arrow make a good backup if your musket is not loaded. They are also lightweight and easy to carry," replied Alex.

"Ye may be on to something, lad," said Hugh.

"What are you and Robert exploring anyway?" asked Alex.

"Weel now, Alex, since ye asked, as ye know, the Pattons own a gunpowder mill where Robber and I work. The making of gunpowder requires saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur. The saltpeter and charcoal are fairly easy to find, but sulfur is rare, and most of it is imported from Sicily. For the Pattons to get their hands on it, someone has to go back east and buy it from the French merchants on the east coast who control the sulfur trade. And then it has to be hauled all the way out here. That's a lot of work, a lot of expenses, and takes a lot of time. The Pattons asked Robber and me to scout around the area and see if we can find some natural sulfur deposits so that they won't have to go to so much trouble and expense to get it," said Hugh with a smug look.

"How do you find sulfur?" asked Alex.

"Ye use yer nose to find sulfur, lad. It has a very distinctive smell. It's called brimstone in the Bible. Ye can usually find it near a hot springs. Robber and I are riding the mountain valleys south of here to see if we can find any hot springs that smell like sulfur."

"Your mentioning smell reminds me of something I found. Do you and Robert have time to look at something for me?" asked Alex.

"Of course, we do," said Robert, who was instantly intrigued.

"I found a cave just over the hill that I want you to look at," said Alex.

"Lead on, Macduff," replied Robert, quoting Shakespeare, whom he had read extensively.

Alex mounted his horse and led Hugh and Robert to a cave that he had found on his fifty acres of land. The cave entrance wasn't easy to discover. It was covered over almost completely with foliage. Alex had found it as he passed by at sunset one evening and saw the flight of bats streaming out to forage for the night. He led his two brothers to the cave entrance, where he had hacked some of the foliage aside. They tied up their horses' reins to some brush nearby and hiked into the cave. Alex had previously made a torch to explore the cave and had placed it just inside the entrance. He picked it up and struck a spark to it with a flint and steel that he carried with him, causing it to blaze up.

Inside the cave, the air smelled very foul. As the three brothers walked deeper into the cave, they got out their kerchiefs and tied them over their noses. Robert finally stopped them and pointed to an area just off in a corner of the cave.

"Bat guano, right there. It must be several feet deep. There must be hundreds of years of accumulation in just this one spot, and there must be a mountain of bat guano all over this cave," said Robert.

"Well, I guess that ruins my cave. I never get it all out of here, and the smell is never going to go away," said Alex.

"On the contrary," said Robert. "It makes your cave very valuable. We can haul that guano to the powder mill and convert it to saltpeter for making gunpowder."

Just as Robert finished his sentence, they heard a sound coming from behind them in the cave. They turned around and split up to begin searching the nooks and crannies of the cave, trying to locate the source of the sound that they had all heard.

"Weel, what do we have here?" said Hugh.

Alex and Robert walked over to join him and found Hugh looking down at a young Cherokee warrior. The young man had an obviously broken leg and was lying on his back behind some rocks in the cave with his teeth gritted in pain. He looked to be in his early twenties.

"Let's get him out of this cave and up to the cabin, so we can fix that leg of his," said Alex.

They picked up the young man, trying to keep from jostling his broken leg too much, and carried him out of the cave. They cut two long poles and made a travois that they attached to one of the horses, so they could transport him back to the cabin. As soon as they reached the cabin, Martha evaluated the situation and took control. She asked the brothers to carry the young warrior into the cabin and get him comfortable on the bed. Hugh and Alex held him down while Robert moved to the foot of the bed and pulled the broken leg so that Martha could set it. As soon as Martha had the bone properly aligned and set, she placed splints over the break and bound it all up with leather strips to hold the splints in place. The young brave passed out during the ordeal, but he never uttered a word or cried out while he was conscious.

"We've done all we can do for him right now. He needs rest and some food when he wakes up," said Martha.

"Robber and I need to get going," said Hugh as he and Robert walked toward the door.

"Good luck finding a sulfur deposit," said Alex.

Alex and Martha stood in their cabin doorway and waved goodbye to Hugh and Robert as they rode to the south away from the cabin.

"What are we going to do with him when he wakes up?" asked Alex.

"We'll feed him and keep him quiet until he is able to walk and be on his way," replied Martha.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Welcome back, Captain Ferguson. I understand that your raid on Chestnut Neck was successful," said General Clinton.

"Yes, sir, very successful," replied Captain Ferguson.

"Please give me a summary of what transpired."

"I would be pleased to, sir. As you know, we departed New York on nine British ships and transports commanded by Captain Henry Collins. On this raid, I commanded about five hundred troops, consisting of British regulars and Colonial loyalists. The weather was foul upon entering the Little Egg Harbor River, and that delayed us for a day making our way up the river to Chestnut Neck. But we made our way there as quickly as possible. Once there, we attacked the privateer base and fought the rebel defenders, whom we finally defeated. We also retrieved some of the supplies that we found there," reported Captain Ferguson.

"Did you recover any of the British ships that had been seized by the privateers?" asked General Clinton.

"No, sir, we did not; but we destroyed all the supplies that we could not carry with us. We also destroyed a salt works and mill located at the mouth of the Bass River. And we burned the houses and storage facilities around the salt works."

"What transpired next?"

"About a week later, I was notified by a defector that there was a detachment of rebel troops encamped nearby. So I loaded up two hundred and fifty men in long boats, and we rowed ten miles to the barrier isle where the rebels were camped. I then marched my troops about two miles from where we landed the boats to the outpost. We attacked them at first light while they were still asleep. There were no sentries posted, so we took them totally by surprise and killed or wounded about forty of them," continued Captain Ferguson.

"How many prisoners did you take?" asked General Clinton.

"Only five, sir; we took almost no quarter on the rebels. I lost only two men killed in the action. I had only three wounded and one missing after the battle," said the captain.

"I understand that the rebels are calling it the Little Egg Harbor massacre," said General Clinton.

"That may be true. We were shocked by their lack of preparation and the fact that they posted no sentries. We were eventually confronted by Comte Pulaski with a superior mounted force, so we retreated to our long boats and returned to New York," concluded Captain Ferguson.

"I had hoped to recover some of our ships that the rebel privateers seized, but any victory is a good victory. Well done, Captain Ferguson. You are dismissed," said General Clinton.

"Thank you, sir," said the pleased Captain Ferguson who bowed to the general and departed his headquarters.

* * * *

Alex

"Captain Mackenzie, what is your report?" commanded Colonel Tipton.

"I have twenty men trained into top fighting condition. Each man is armed with muskets, fifty balls of ammunition, and two pounds of powder," replied Alex.

"Very good, Captain," replied the colonel.

The unit of the Continental Army's southern division that Alex commanded was standing in formation at Fort Watauga. It had the beginnings of being a better organized unit at Alex's insistence and hard work. The Longhunter and Jonas were members of Alex's unit, as well as Hugh and Robert, who were out on another exploration mission toward the western frontier for the Pattons and not present today. Robert and Hugh's first exploration mission to the south was a total failure. They had explored south of Fort Watauga for several weeks and found nothing. Several months had passed, and their new mission was to explore west to see if they could find any sulfur deposits out in that direction.

There were no other militia units training at Fort Watauga that day. Alex had made a point of training the men under his command at least once per month unless they were engaged in the harvest. As part of their training, they often conducted raids against the Tories living in that area of the frontier who were still loyal to the crown. These raids would rile up the British and create confusion and controversy. They also fought occasional skirmishes with the Cherokees who had sided with the British. Today, Alex had set up targets inside the fort and was working with his men on marksmanship with their muskets and pistols. Alex worked with each man individually, teaching them how to breathe and how to squeeze the trigger. The results were astonishing and the men were amazed at the improvement in their accuracy and rate of fire.

The practice was suddenly interrupted by one of the fort's sentries.

"Attack! Attack! Close the gates!" yelled the sentry.

A few of the troops in Alex's unit laid their muskets aside and ran to help the sentries close the fort's gates. Alex and Colonel Tipton climbed the ladder up to the elevated walkway around the fort where they could look over the parapets at the surrounding fields. The sudden appearance of a Cherokee war party had taken the fort by surprise. As Alex and Colonel Tipton looked out at the sea of warriors, they realized that they were in trouble, being badly out-numbered. Since they had no warning, the surprise attack had not allowed them to get the settlers who lived around the fort inside to safety. As the men gazed out on the horizon, they saw smoke rising from the burning cabins, outbuildings, and farms in the distance.

Alex looked off to the southwest toward his cabin and saw smoke rising in that direction also. He didn't know if it was his cabin for sure, but it looked like it might be. That was soon confirmed when a group of warriors appeared from the tree line, holding Martha captive. One of the warriors was the young brave whose broken leg Martha and Alex had splinted, the one they had nursed back to health. Well, so much for gratitude, thought Alex. That young warrior, whose leg was now completely healed, was called the Raven, and he led the band of Cherokees that had captured Martha and attacked the fort. There were about one hundred warriors in his band. The Raven wore a single eagle feather in his hair. He had blackened a one inch ring around his face, circling both of his eyes, to give himself a fierce and sinister appearance.

Martha looked bruised and battered but otherwise she seemed to still have her defiant spirit. Alex's heart jumped to his throat as he looked at Martha being held captive. He knew he couldn't do anything about it at the moment, but he also knew he would have to come up with something to save her.

"Alex, lad, we'll get her back," said the Longhunter, who had climbed up the ladder and was standing next to Alex patting him on the shoulder.

"I hope they keep her alive till after sundown so that I can slip out of the fort and try to save her," said Alex.

"There're a lot of warriors. We'll have to be careful about how we go about it," replied the Longhunter.

"I don't want you to put yourself in danger," said Alex, shaking his head.

"Just you try and stop me and Jonas. You don't think we would let you go alone do you, lad? Jonas is a better fighter than I am. They'll never know what hit em," replied the Longhunter with an easy smile.

During the afternoon, the warriors dug a hole in the ground and set a post in it. The post was located more than three hundred yards from the fort, just out of rifle shot range for Alex, even taking into account Slayer's added range. Martha was tied to the post hand and foot by the Raven, with her hands behind her back while she was standing on a stump set against the post. Then the warriors piled limbs and logs around the base of the post. They leaned some of the wood up against the stump Martha was standing on. It looked like they intended to burn her at the stake. As he looked at Martha, tied to the stake, Alex gritted his teeth and raked his left hand through his hair as dusk gathered over the fort.

* * * *

Big Mike

"General Washington has decided that he doesn't want to risk another major confrontation with the British Army, so the idea to feed false information to the British from the false Prophet won't be of any more use to us. There is no need for you to continue to impersonate Major Ruskin. Your expertise with the cannons has been recognized by General Washington, and he wants you to continue commanding the cannons," said Captain Ellison McCoy to Big Mike Finn.

"Mike, I want you to come along with us on this raid," continued the captain.

"What do you want me to do, sir?"

"We intend to capture the British fortification at Stony Point, New York and confiscate their cannons. They have about fifteen field pieces that we want. When we have them in hand, I want you and your cannoneers to take charge. Turn them around to fire on Verplanck's Point, across the Hudson River, where the British have another fortification," replied Captain McCoy.

"Do you think it will be very difficult to take Stony Point?"

"General Washington has been sitting on top of Buckberg Mountain, about two miles northwest of the fort, for the last several days, watching it with a telescope. He hasn't been just watching King's Ferry go back and forth between Stony Point and Verplanck's Point. He has been looking for a weakness in their fortifications. And now he has found one and devised a plan to exploit it."

"If you don't mind my asking, what is the weakness?"

"The general has observed that the southern ramparts, which are made of wood, do not extend far enough out into the Hudson River. At low tide, the beach is exposed between the ramparts and the water. A group of men can literally walk around the ramparts on the beach, scale the point, and stroll right into their camp," answered Captain McCoy.

"When are we going to attack?"

"The plan is to attack them at midnight tomorrow night at low tide. The men will carry unloaded muskets and will attack with bayonets only, so that we don't alert the sentries. Diversionary attacks will come from the north and directly across the causeway from the west because that is what they will expect. But the men who attack from the south around the ramparts will be the main attack body of troops. We will have to scale the steep, rocky sides of Stony Point, and it won't be an easy job," said Ellison.

The weather took a turn for the worse the evening just before the attack was to take place. The wind had picked up out of the south, and its increased strength caused the British ships that were anchored in the bay south of Stony Point to pull up their anchor. They were sailed downriver to find a better-sheltered anchoring. Big Mike was marching with the troops attacking from the south.

"Wasn't there supposed to be some dry beach between the ramparts and the Hudson River?" asked Big Mike.

"Well, I guess the wind has whipped up the river, and we are just going to have to wade around the ramparts," answered Captain McCoy.

The men waded in two to four feet of water to get around the ramparts on the south side of Stony Point. Each man had a white band on his sleeve or a white patch pinned to his hat to help identify friend from foe in the darkness. In addition, the watchword, or password, was "The fort's our own," which also helped the men identify each other. The moon was covered by clouds and visibility was very low. When the men heard the sounds of the diversionary attacks from the north and west across the causeway, they began their attack. They used the noise of the other attacks to cover their final push past the ramparts and up the sides of Stony Point. The British were taken unawares, so when the British realized they were under attack, it was almost too late. The battle was over in less than thirty minutes.

Big Mike and his men took charge of turning the cannons around and firing them into the fortifications at Verplanck's Point, but the range was so great that no significant damage was done.

"This isn't worth the trouble," said the frustrated Big Mike.

"True. Let's get these cannons hitched up so that we can get them out of here," replied Ellison.

* * * *

Alex

When it was fully dark, Alex, the Longhunter and Jonas slipped over the back wall of the fort and ran to the trees, which were only a hundred yards behind the fort. The Raven had not placed any of his Cherokee warriors behind the fort, so it was a relatively easy task to get out of the fort and melt into the trees. If everyone had left the fort over the back wall, that would have been fine with the Raven and the Cherokees. They could have waltzed in unmolested and burned everything to the ground. The warriors had attacked the fort several times during the afternoon and early evening, but they had been forced back each time by musket fire from Alex's men. Alex's marksmanship training was paying off in a big way, and several of the braves had been carried off, either wounded or dead. At one point, the braves had tried to scale the Fort Watauga palisade, but a kettle of boiling water poured down from above them had stopped that attempt dead in its tracks. The Cherokees were not foolish enough to make any more attempts to scale the walls after that.

All three men were carrying muskets and pistols. Alex also carried his longbow and a quiver of arrows strapped over his shoulder. Of course, each man also carried one or more knives in sheaths at various places on his person or in his clothes. The three men worked their way around the fort in the trees until they were behind the warriors, with Martha and the warriors between them and the fort.

The Cherokee braves were all gathered in a circle around the stake where Martha was tied, and were standing or sitting on the ground. They were getting settled in to enjoy the entertainment of seeing her burning at the stake. Alex counted only two braves watching the horses. He and his men were positioned not very far back in the trees, where they also had a good view of Martha tied to the stake. Alex, the Longhunter and Jonas huddled in the trees and Alex whispered the order for them to execute the initial part of the plan. Jonas and the Longhunter would each take out a sentry, and Alex would work his way through the brush to get as close as he could to Martha and the rest of the warriors.

As soon as the Longhunter, Jonas and Alex were positioned where they could accomplish their missions, Alex pulled an arrow from his quiver that he had specially prepared for this task. He had tied a small piece of cloth around the arrow just behind the tip. The cloth had been soaked in tar and the tar had some very flammable dry straw embedded into it. He pulled out his flint and steel and struck sparks on the tarred portion of the arrow. It took him several moments to get the sparks to ignite the arrow. As soon as it was blazing well, Alex notched the arrow into his bow string and lifted up the bow at a forty-five degree angle above the horizon. Alex quickly fired the flaming arrow high in a great sweeping arc, directly over Martha and the Cherokees, toward the fort. Everyone inside and outside the fort looked up and watched the arrow as it soared across the dark sky. It finally stuck, still burning in the ground about half way between the warriors gathered around the stake and Fort Watauga.

As the fiery arrow was in flight, several things happened at once. The Longhunter and Jonas killed the two sentries with their knives. They had sneaked up behind them and slit their throats as the guards raised their heads up to watch the flaming arrow fly across the sky. Simultaneously, the Fort Watauga gates opened, and Alex's men, who had massed just behind the gates, came streaming out of the fort yelling and howling, running towards the warriors. The warriors saw the attack coming toward them and momentarily forgot about the flaming arrow and who might have fired it. They rose to the challenge by getting up and running straight towards Alex's men, bellowing war whoops. As soon as the warriors were within a hundred yards of Alex's men, the militiamen stopped, fanned out, knelt down on one knee, cocked their musket flintlocks, and almost simultaneously fired a volley toward the attacking warriors. As soon as they had fired, they immediately got up, turned around and ran back toward the fort, with the Raven and his Cherokee warriors in hot pursuit.

At the same time this skirmish was occurring, Alex ran out of the trees to the stake and cut Martha loose, then ran with her back into the trees to rendezvous with the Longhunter and Jonas.

"Well, the first half of the plan worked perfectly. Let's see if the second half does, too," said Alex to the Longhunter and Jonas while he held Martha's hand.

"It seems like I am always rescuing you out of some sticky situation," said Alex to Martha, giving her a hug.

"Tell me something I don't know," replied Martha, hugging him back.

Alex's men reached Fort Watauga ahead of the warriors and closed the gates and barred them as the last man ran into the fort. The men scurried up the ladders, up to the elevated walkways, where they could reload their muskets and fire down on the attackers.

It didn't take long for the Raven and his braves to determine that they were losing too many warriors too quickly and this attack was another disaster. Realizing that they had been tricked, they withdrew from the engagement and ran back toward the now-empty stake.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Robber do ye think it might be getting too dark find a sulfur deposit anytime soon?" asked Hugh.

Robert glanced over at Hugh and kept riding south, following a promising valley several miles west of Fort Watauga. They had just ridden through a pass and into a valley that was bounded by mountain ridges to the east and west. The two men had turned south southwest to follow a small stream that flowed through the valley. Robert pulled his reins up to stop his horse and got down to examine something he saw in the stream. He waded out into the stream and picked up something yellow out of it.

"What ye got there Robber; is it sulfur?" asked Hugh.

"Nae," answered Robert as he examined what he had pick out of the stream. "It's gold."

Hugh immediately jumped down off his horse to examine the gold nugget. He took the nugget out of Robert's hand and bit down on it with his teeth. It was soft, as he had suspected, and his bite left a small indention in the nugget.

"It is gold alright," said Hugh. "We're rich."

"No were not," replied Robert.

"Why not?" asked Hugh.

"It's only one nugget."

"Yeah, but I bet there's more around here."

"Maybe you're right and maybe not."

"Weel, let's have a look-see."

"Okay, you wade back down this stream looking for more nuggets, and I'm going to explore this side stream that feeds into the creek right here, where the water is a little warmer," said Robert as he strode off into the brush and up toward the ridge.

After some exploration, Robert found a warm spring in a cleft located a short way up the ridge, where it had pooled into a shallow rocky basin. When Hugh finally gave up his fruitless search for more gold nuggets, he followed the same side stream that Robert had traveled upward. When Hugh arrived at the basin, he found Robert had stripped off all his clothes. He was lying on his back almost asleep in the warm water, relaxing in the mineral springs. Robert opened his eyes just as Hugh walked up to the warm pool.

"Robber, can I get ye something to drink, like wine or Scotch whiskey, lad?" asked the grinning Hugh.

"Did you find any more gold?" Robert asked, changing the subject.

"Nae, I guess we're not rich."

"Do you smell anything in this pool?" asked Robert.

"Aye, it smells rich like minerals."

"That's the smell of sulfur and some other elements. There must be a natural deposit of sulfur around here somewhere since this spring smells of it. Sulfur springs are said to have healing properties. You might want to get in and join me. It's too dark for any more exploration today anyway."

"Aye, I believe I will," said Hugh stripping off his clothes and wading into the pool to lie down in the water across from Robert.

* * * *

Alex

"Martha, keep running no matter what I do behind you," shouted Alex toward Martha's back as they ran through the trees.

Martha nodded and yelled, "Okay", raising her hand and waving as she ran, to indicate that she had heard and understood. It was too dark for Alex to see her nod and he didn't hear her yell, but he did see her raise her hand and wave, so he assumed that she had heard him and understood his request. Alex, Martha, the Longhunter, and Jonas were running through the trees in a wide circle around Fort Watauga headed toward the Sycamore Shoals on the Watauga River, which was only a short distance from the fort. Jonas led the way, followed by the Longhunter, then Martha. Alex ran at the rear of the group. The order that they were running in had been predetermined as a part of the plan that Alex, Jonas, and the Longhunter had devised before they climbed out of the back of the fort.

When the Cherokees arrived at the empty stake, they knew in an instant what had happened and how they had been tricked. It didn't take them long to pick up the trail and soon they were running behind Alex and closing the gap quickly. Martha had not had time to tie up her skirts, so she was slowing Alex down quite a bit. There was a widening gap between her and the Longhunter. That was fine with Alex because it was also part of the plan.

When the Cherokees closed the gap and got close enough to Alex, he stopped, turned around and dropped to one knee. He pulled the loaded pistol from his belt, cocked his flintlock, and fired a ball into the chest of the leading pursuer. The Cherokees slowed their charge as Alex stood up, turned around, and ran back toward Martha. It didn't take him long to catch up with Martha, but the maneuver had served its purpose and given the Longhunter and Jonas time to increase their lead on him and Martha.

Sycamore Shoals is a wide, rocky stretch of river rapids where the Watauga River flows over a shallow bottom. It was used by the early settlers who lived in the area as a convenient place to ford the river. However, recent rains in the upper Watauga watershed had increased the flow of the Watauga to a swifter torrent. In normal times, one could wade across the Watauga at Sycamore Shoals because the water depth there was usually no more the knee high. But the recent rains had raised the water level to entirely cover the rocks, and it was flowing very rapidly. It was not an easy task to wade across with the water with it running so swiftly. It was almost chest deep in some places.

There was normally a birch bark canoe tied up on each bank of the Watauga River at Sycamore Shoals. These two canoes were the property of the entire community and were used to ferry across the river both dry goods and people who did not want to get wet. Jonas and the Longhunter arrived at Sycamore Shoals well ahead of Alex and Martha. They struggled across the river in the high, fast-flowing water and gathered both canoes, positioning them in the shallows near the fort side bank. As a result, the canoes were located where they would be easy to board and paddle away into the downstream river flow.

As Alex approached the Watauga River, where he knew that Jonas and the Longhunter were waiting with the canoes, he repeated his maneuver of stopping, turning around, and dropping to one knee. This time he raised Slayer, cocked his flintlock, and killed the leading Cherokee pursuer dead on the trail. This bought him and Martha a little more precious time as they raced toward the river. As soon as they reached the shallows just ahead of the braves, Martha and Alex boarded one of the canoes, with Alex in the rear paddling position. Jonas and the Longhunter boarded the other canoe, with the Longhunter in the rear paddling position, as they all pushed off into the river. Jonas and the Longhunter took the lead since they could paddle faster than Alex and Martha. They paddled as fast as they could to get themselves out into the middle of the river and headed downstream with the river flow.

The warriors soon arrived at the river and began to run along the bank, paralleling the canoes, while firing arrows at them whenever they found a break in the dense foliage that grew along the river bank. The darkness and the bouncing, moving canoes made it almost impossible to score a hit with a bow and arrow. Alex watched them as he and Martha paddled. To his amazement, the Raven, who was the young warrior that he and Martha had nursed back to health, raced ahead of the others along the bank. The Raven was very swift, almost as fast as Alex, and soon he had even raced ahead of the canoes.

When the young warrior found a good spot where there was a large gap in the foliage, he turned abruptly toward the river and raced down the bank into the shallows. As soon as he reached a depth of water up to his knees, without pausing, he dived straight out in a desperate flying leap. He was attempting to strike Alex and Martha's canoe with his hands to overturn it. Alex's rifle and pistol were still unloaded, since he had recently fired both. He had not had time to reload, so he dropped his paddle into the bottom of the canoe and grasped Slayer like a quarterstaff. Just as the leaping Raven reached for the canoe, Alex swung Slayer in a tight arc so that the barrel caught the Raven on his temple as he was about to strike the canoe. This stopped his forward momentum, and he fell just short of the canoe.

Alex set Slayer back down in the canoe and resumed paddling. He turned and watched the unconscious young warrior float face down in the river behind the canoe. He couldn't tell if the Raven was alive or dead.

The canoes were soon out of sight of the young brave and the rest of the warriors as Alex and his companions paddled to safety down the river.

"That was a close call," said Alex to Martha as they paddled downstream in the center of the Watauga River.

"It was, and I am going to have to change one thing, if we keep this up," said Martha.

"What's that?" asked Alex.

"I'm going to have to start wearing pants so I can run faster," said Martha with a smile.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Captain Ferguson, your recommendations about the fortifications at Stony Point were spot on," said General Clinton.

The captain almost said, "I told you so," but he caught himself just before he blurted it out and instead said, "I fear that you are correct, General."

"The rebels have already abandoned Stony Point because they realized that they could not hold those inferior fortifications either. I am going to appoint you Governor and Commandant of both Stony Point and Verplanck's Point on the opposite bank. I want you to completely rebuild those ramparts and add anything else you believe necessary to make sure that they do not fall into enemy hands again," said General Clinton.

"I want you to keep the King's Ferry in service at all costs. We need that ferry to move men and supplies back and forth across the Hudson River. I also want to deny the enemy access to this supply line," continued the general.

"I will do my best," replied Captain Ferguson.

"I don't know how long I will need you at Stony Point, but I will give you as much warning of any changes as I can. General Washington has deployed his army into strong defensive positions and refuses to be drawn out into a general confrontation," continued the general.

"I understand, sir," replied the captain.

Captain Ferguson packed his gear and took a few men with him for the forty mile ride from New York to Stony Point. When he arrived at Stony Point, he immediately set about the task of improving the fortifications. All his work was for naught a few months later, when he was ordered to dismantle the works and return to New York.

* * * *

Alex

"Snag, on yer left," shouted the Longhunter.

Alex lowered his paddle into the stream and steered his canoe to the right following the Longhunter and Jonas as they paddled with the current down the Watauga River.

"Let me take the lead," shouted Alex as he and Martha paddled past Jonas and the Longhunter when they slowed to navigate around the snag.

After following the river with the current for another quarter mile, Alex paddled for the north bank of the river to a sandy spot on the shore where he could beach his canoe. The Longhunter and Jonas followed close behind. They piled out of the canoes and pulled them up out of the water onto the bank.

"We can't keep paddling down the river at night with it running this fast. We're sure to hit something in the dark and that would be a disaster," said Alex.

"Yer right lad, what do ye think we ought to do?" asked the Longhunter.

"The Watauga flows due west from here for another quarter mile. Then it curves north and bends back east, forming a horseshoe. We are standing on the neck of the horseshoe right now. We can carry the canoes across the neck tonight and set them on the bank of the other side, ready to go as soon as it's light. Then we can make a camp beside the canoes for what's left of the night. We'll take turns at sentry duty on this bank right here so that if anyone comes down the river tonight, the sentry can hightail it back across the neck and help us launch the canoes. That way, we will still have at least a quarter mile head start on anyone following us.

"Tomorrow morning as soon as it's light, we can launch the canoes and paddle downstream to Fort Patrick Henry," continued Alex. "We'll try to round up enough men there to hike back down to Fort Watauga and attack the Cherokees from behind. If we can catch them between us and the troops in Fort Watauga, they might not expect it. We stand a good chance of breaking the siege and running them off."

"Sounds like a good plan to me. Let's haul these canoes across the neck," said the Longhunter.

As soon as they had positioned the canoes on the far bank, they set up camp on that bank for what was left of the night.

"I'll take the first watch," said the Longhunter as he left the camp to hike back across the neck to watch on the bank.

No one disagreed with him, and soon Alex, Martha and Jonas fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"It looks like we found the sulfur deposit that we were looking for. The Pattons will be very happy," said Hugh.

Robert nodded.

Robert and Hugh had soaked in the sulfur springs all evening and into the night, until their skin was soft and wrinkled. They camped near the hot springs and got up early next morning to explore more of the area around the springs. Their search soon turned up several deposits of sulfur in the area. They collected enough raw sulfur to fill their saddle bags for the trip back to the Pattons' gunpowder mill.

"I also found something else," said Robert glancing at Hugh.

"And just what would that be?"

"Come and take a look at this," said Robert, who led Hugh up above the springs and pulled back some bushes so that Hugh could see what he had found.

As he held back the bushes, Robert pointed to an outcrop in the side of the ridge just above the sulfur springs.

"What is it, Robber?"

"It's a vein of gold ore that runs right into the ridge under this shelf. That nugget I found in the creek must have broken off of this vein and washed down the ridge into the hot pool. From there it must have washed down into the creek."

"Then we are rich."

"Not exactly," replied Robert. "We would have to come up with a way to mine the ore and then convert it to something we can spend. Besides, we don't even own this land."

"Who does own it?"

"I have no idea; probably the Cherokees if I had to guess."

"What do you think we ought to do?"

"I'm not sure, but for right now, I think that we should cover up this gold vein with rocks to hide it until we can decide what to do about it. Let's scout down from the hot spring and then down the stream a ways to pick up any more gold nuggets that may have washed down. We need the sulfur more than we need the gold right now. No one but you and I needs to know about the gold. Let's keep it to ourselves," said Robert, glancing at Hugh, who nodded in agreement.

Robert and Hugh worked together to carry some large boulders and smaller rocks to stack up by the bushes in front of the gold vein under the shelf. They made it look like it was a natural rock fall that had come down from higher up on the ridge. They also added some loose foliage and wiped away all the traces of their work. Anyone who ventured close would have difficulty finding it if they didn't already know it was there. Then they walked down from the hot spring and continued down the creek for about a mile, picking up any gold nuggets that they spied in the creek. When they had finished, they had collected three large nuggets and a pouch full of smaller ones. Robert put the large gold nuggets in the pouch with the small ones and placed it under some of the large rocks that they had piled up at the gold vein in the ridge.

"Robber, how are we going to find this place again?" asked Hugh.

"I've been thinking about that, and I think that we should follow this valley and the stream north northeast, staying between the two ridges on the east and west of us. It appears to run fairly straight, with nothing blocking it as far as I can tell. We're sure to arrive at the south fork of the Holston River or the Watauga River after we travel a few miles. I am fairly sure that this stream must run into one of those rivers. When we get there we will need to mark the intersection of this stream and the river on the river bank somehow. So to come back, all we have to do is to follow the Watauga to the south fork of the Holston, if it is that far, to the place we mark on the bank. Then we ride south southwest between the ridges along this stream and that should lead us right back here," replied Robert.

They camped for a second night at their newly discovered sulfur spring. Early the next morning, they double-checked their work to make sure everything looked like they had left it. They also took bearings on top of both ridges so that they had a good idea how to identify the area again when they came back. As soon as they were sure they could find the spot again, they packed up their gear and loaded the raw sulfur that they had found on their horses. They mounted up and rode north northeast along the stream, toward the river, keeping as close to the stream as they could. Robert estimated that they should arrive at the south fork of Holston River or the Watauga River in about three hours of riding.

* * * *

Alex

"It's probably about twenty miles from here to Fort Patrick Henry. We should be there a little before noon," said Alex as he pushed the canoe, with Martha sitting at the forward paddling position, off into the river.

The Longhunter and Jonas pushed off and took the lead as they traveled north on the Watauga River toward the fort. The canoe trip on that portion of the river was fairly uneventful as canoe trips on a swollen river go. They didn't see any more Cherokees on the river or on the banks during the morning. The Raven, if he was still alive, and his warriors who had joined him in the chase, had evidently given up and returned to the siege of Fort Watauga.

They had paddled for about two hours when they came to the point in the river Watauga River merged with the south fork of the Holston River, which flowed from the east. From this point north toward Fort Patrick Henry, the river was called the south fork of the Holston River. When the two canoes had passed that point in the river and continued paddling north, Alex glanced over his shoulder, toward the east and down the south fork of the Holston. He was horrified to see four Cherokee war canoes in the river, coming right at them. The four Cherokee canoes made the right turn at the fork into the main river torrent and began gaining on Alex and Martha. The warriors in the lead canoes were obviously anticipating catching up to them.

The Longhunter and Jonas had opened up such a large gap in front of Alex that they had no idea that Alex and Martha were being chased by the Cherokee warriors. Alex knew he was in trouble again. The braves were sure to catch up to him and Martha. The Longhunter and Jonas were a long way ahead of them and might be able to stay ahead, but Martha was not a strong enough paddler for her and Alex to stay ahead of the Cherokees. Alex began to consider his various alternatives, none of which was very good. He had only a rifle, a pistol, and his longbow and arrows in the canoe with him. It was Alex against eight Cherokees, and the odds of surviving that confrontation were not favorable.

To Alex's advantage, the south fork of Holston River flow combined with the Watauga River was deeper and steadier than the Watauga River had been, giving the canoe somewhat better stability as it was paddled down the river. Alex took advantage of that stability by laying his paddle down in the canoe and picking up Slayer.

"Martha, stop paddling when I tell you," said Alex.

Martha nodded that she understood and kept paddling as hard as she could. Alex rolled over in the canoe, facing to the rear, lying on his belly. He pulled up Slayer and took as steady an aim as possible in a bouncing canoe at the lead brave in the lead canoe.

"Martha, stop paddling now," said Alex.

Martha immediately lifted her paddle and rested it across the two gunwales and leaned on the paddle to catch her breath. Alex slowed his breathing, cocked his flintlock, and squeezed the trigger. The musket ball went a little high of the warrior's chest where Alex was aiming and caught the warrior in the middle of his forehead. The impact knocked the warrior back into the brave paddling behind him. The warrior in the rear of the canoe instinctively dropped his paddle to catch the brave falling backwards into his lap. The increased weight in the back of the canoe caused it to violently skew to the right, veering into the path of one of the other Cherokee canoes as it rapidly lost speed. The collision of the two canoes in the middle of the fast flowing river overturned both of them, dumping all four warriors into the river and leaving only two canoes following and closing on Alex and Martha. The surviving three braves from the overturned canoes swam toward the river bank.

The Longhunter and Jonas were so far ahead and the raging river was so noisy that they didn't even hear Alex's shot.

* * * *

Captain Ferguson

"Captain Ferguson, I am pleased to promote you to the rank of Major in the Seventy-First Foot of Fraser's Highlanders. I have been very happy with your work and your leadership here in New York. I am also going to transfer you immediately to accompany me to the southern theater of the war and give you command of the New York and New Jersey Loyalists," said General Clinton.

"Thank you very much, sir," replied the newly minted Major Ferguson.

"We will depart by ship immediately for Savannah. We land at Tybee Island, and then we will join Lord Cornwallis in Savannah. Our first objective is to capture Charleston. After we take Charleston, I will return to New York, and you will stay in the south to lead the loyalists against the rebels."

"Very well, sir. I will make ready to depart."

The voyage from New York to Tybee Island, near Savannah, would take a little over a month. General Clinton was moving almost fourteen thousand troops from New York and the northeast to South Carolina. He had been told that loyalist support was extremely high in the southern colonies and that the colonists in the south were sick of opposition to their rightful government. For that reason, he thought that an expedition in the south colonies held promise. And Major Ferguson might just hold the key to turning the war around for him and stopping the rebels.

* * * *

Alex

The Cherokees normally used a short bow in battle that could easily be fired in close quarters such as riding on a horse or sitting in a canoe. The warriors following in the remaining two canoes fired arrows at Alex and Martha from time to time, but luckily none met their mark. Alex's bow was a six foot longbow and could only be fired from a standing position. It was going to be of no use in the canoe. The longbow had about the same accuracy as a short bow at close range, but the longbow was a much more effective weapon at long range, and it had much more penetrating power. On the other hand, the short bow could be maneuvered in tight spots and fired from any number of positions. That left only his pistol and his knife as possible weapons against the pursuers, since his rifle had just been fired, and he could not possibly reload it sitting in a moving canoe.

As soon as the lead Cherokee canoe came within range, Alex began to develop a plan for how to deal with it. When the Cherokees came within a few yards, Alex pulled his pistol out of his belt, cocked the flintlock and fired a pistol ball into the chest of the brave sitting in the front paddling position of the canoe. The warrior that was paddling in the rear position saw his comrade slump forward and drop his paddle after the shot was fired. He knew that he couldn't keep up with Alex and Martha, so he turned his canoe toward the bank to see if he could help his comrade.

Jonas and the Longhunter were now even further ahead of Alex and Martha, so they did not hear the pistol shot either. They kept stretching out their lead. Alex was now out of firearms, and there was still the fourth canoe of Cherokee warriors gaining on him and Martha. He had no idea what to do, so he decided to keep paddling and see what opportunities might develop down the river.

The last canoe, with the two Cherokees paddling as hard as they could, came closer and closer. As soon as it got within a few yards of Alex and Martha, the brave in the forward position stopped paddling and steadied himself on his knees. He raised his short bow and notched an arrow to shoot at Alex and Martha. At this range, there was no way he could miss. Alex had been keeping an eye on the approaching canoe, but he had been able to do very little except try to steer his canoe away from the Cherokee braves. They were too far away for him to attempt a knife throw, which probably would be inaccurate anyway in the moving canoe. Alex said a little prayer, which was the only thing he could think of doing.

Just as the brave drew back his bow string to fire the deadly arrow, two shots rang out from the river bank. Both Cherokee warriors fell dead in their canoe as it continued to travel down the river, following the current in a haphazard fashion. Alex looked toward the bank where the shots had come from. To his surprise, he spied Robert and Hugh standing on the bank with their muskets pointed at the canoe with the two dead warriors in it. Alex smiled to himself and steered his canoe toward the bank where Robert and Hugh were standing. The Longhunter and Jonas had finally glanced behind them and noticed what happened; they steered for the bank also. Alex pulled his canoe up on the bank and helped Martha get out of it. As soon as Robert and Hugh caught up to Alex and Martha, Alex reached out and hugged them both in a bear hug. Martha joined into the group hug also. Soon they were patting each other on the back and laughing.

"Where did you two come from?" asked Alex.

"Weel now, we were just out for a Sunday stroll along the river bank and saw that ye and Martha were out for a Sunday canoe ride," said Hugh with a grin.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," replied Alex.

"To tell ye the truth laddie, Robber and I discovered a deposit of sulfur just to the south of here, and we were headed back by way of the river bank so that we could remember where the deposit was located. We saw the Longhunter and Jonas and hailed them, but they couldn't hear us because the river makes too much noise when it's running this fast. Then we saw you and Martha come along and the predicament that ye had gotten yourself into, so we decided to lend a hand."

Robert had actually discovered the sulfur deposit and the gold, but Hugh had harmlessly taken the credit for it. Robert didn't mind at all; he was just happy that Hugh hadn't mentioned the gold discovery until he had a chance to think of what he wanted to do about it.

"It's a good thing you did. Martha and I wouldn't be here now if you hadn't."

"Ye would do the same for us, laddie," said Hugh, and Robert nodded in agreement.

* * * *

The Raven

The Raven wasn't dead, but the blow to his head from Alex's rifle had knocked him unconscious and sent him floating face down in the Watauga River. When the river water rushed into his lungs, he came back to the world of the living and sputtered out the water. As he swam to the bank and climbed up to join his band of warriors, he thought about what he should do for revenge.

He was angry that, with the help of her husband and his friends, the woman had escaped burning at the stake. He was also angry that the settlers had come into his lands. The British had formed an alliance with the Cherokees and armed them with a large cache of weapons which they had used to wreak havoc among the settlers on the frontier. But now most of the British weapons were no longer in use, because the braves hadn't been taught how to maintain and clean them. They also ran out of ammunition and had no way to resupply it. It was back to using bows and arrows and knives as it had always been.

Some of the Cherokees wanted to sell their land to the settlers, but the Raven was vehemently opposed it. When the majority of the Cherokees had agreed to sell their land to the Transylvania Company, he had broken with the group and joined the Chickamauga band, who only wanted to fight the settlers and drive them out of the frontier and off the Cherokee lands.

"Let's burn all the rest of the cabins and farms around the fort that we may have missed and then continue the siege of the fort," said the Raven to his braves.

* * * *

* * * *

Alex

"Fort Watauga is under attack by the Cherokees, and I suspect that all the frontier forts may be in the same predicament. We are going to Fort Patrick Henry to see if we can round up some men to help us drive off the Cherokees attacking Fort Watauga," said Alex, bringing Robert and Hugh up to date on the latest developments that had occurred since they had left on their exploration for a sulfur deposit.

"Och, what do ye think Robber and I ought to do?" asked Hugh.

"We're only a few miles south of Fort Patrick Henry. If we can find one of these Cherokee canoes for you two, we can continue paddling down the river to the fort. When we get there, we'll see what the situation looks like. You two can hobble your horses, and we will pick them up tomorrow when we come back this way," replied Alex.

The Longhunter and Jonas had finally paddled back upstream to join the group on the river bank. They discussed the plan with the Longhunter and Jonas and finally located one of the abandoned Cherokee canoes stuck on a pile of brush for Robert and Hugh. After everyone agreed to the plan, Alex, Martha, Robert, Hugh, the Longhunter, and Jonas boarded their respective canoes and continued paddling toward Fort Patrick Henry as they traveled down the south fork of the Holston. The Longhunter and Jonas were still in the lead canoe followed by Alex and Martha. Robert and Hugh brought up the rear.

Fort Patrick Henry was located on the north end of Long Island of the Holston River, a river island located just about a mile to the southeast of where the south fork of the Holston River flows into the main Holston River on its westward journey through the frontier. Long Island was considered a sacred and important island site to the Cherokees. Cherokee councils and gatherings had long been conducted on the grassy plains of the island, called Long Island Flats. The Cherokees resented the presence of Fort Patrick Henry on their sacred soil.

Fort Patrick Henry was actually the starting point of The Wilderness Road. It was the point Daniel Boone departed from as he traveled west through the Cumberland Gap to open up Kentucky to settlers. The fort would later be used as a staging point for the many settlers who followed his trail. The men who occupied the fort and lived in the area around Fort Patrick Henry were the same type of men who lived around Fort Watauga. Alex knew that he could count on them for help. When their canoes finally arrived at the south tip of Long Island, the sun was high up in the sky. They had to choose whether to take the right or the left branch of the river around the island. Long Island is about three miles long and Fort Patrick Henry was located at the north end of the island, where it was built on a bluff overlooking the river. The fort enclosed about three acres of land with a stockade wall that had bastions at the corners. Long Island Flats led up to the fort's main gate.

"Alex, do you want to take the right branch or the left branch?" yelled the Longhunter in the lead canoe.

"Let's stay to the left," replied Alex.

The left branch was the smaller and shallower of the two branches, and it was not flowing as rapidly as the swollen right branch. Alex directed the group to beach their canoes about a mile south of the fort. They climbed the river bank and stood on the edge of the Long Island Flats. From their vantage point, looking over the tall prairie grass growing on the flats, they could see that Fort Patrick Henry was also under siege by the Cherokees. It looked like a band of almost two hundred warriors were camped just outside the musket range of the fort.

The fact that Fort Patrick Henry was under attack reinforced Alex's earlier determination that all the other frontier forts in western North Carolina were probably also under attack in a coordinated attempt to drive the settlers out. A Cherokee chief named Dragging Canoe commanded the assault on Fort Patrick Henry. He was the main chief of the Cherokee warriors who were camped outside the fort on the flats as well as leading the entire Chickamauga tribe. His attack on Fort Patrick Henry, and all the settlers along the Holston River, was apparently timed to coincide with the Raven's attack on Fort Watauga.

"Och, it's nae guid," said Hugh. "There's got to be less than a hundred men inside the fort, and there's at least twice that number of warriors camped out on the flats."

"We've got to figure out a way to help them," said Alex, looking at the fort.

"I've got an idea, but I don't know if it will work or not," said Robert.

"What is it that ye have in mind, Robber?" asked Hugh.

"Well, this entire flat is covered with dry prairie grass that is at least waist high and as much as shoulder high in some places. The wind is blowing very strongly out of the southeast. If we start a string of fires in a line along the south side of the flats, the wind will whip it up into a raging prairie fire headed right toward the Cherokees camp. The smoke and fire might be enough to drive them away from the fort and across the river so that we can get past them and into the fort to help them."

"That is as good a plan as any I can come up with," said Alex. "Let's give it a try."

They all gathered in a small clearing located in the center of the south border of the prairie grass plain. Alex started a small camp fire with his flint and steel, and they all made torches out of dried limbs and grass. After they lit their torches, they all hurried to predetermined spots, spread out in a straight line about one hundred yards apart. At a signal from Alex, they all started walking east at the same time, holding their flaming torches into the prairie grass, lighting a line of fire in the grass.

It didn't take long for the dry grass to flame up, and the strong southerly wind soon pushed the fire line northwest. The fire moved slowly at first, and then as it grew, it raced north faster than a man could run.

The Cherokees sitting in the camp first smelled a faint whiff of smoke from the approaching fire. By the time they became alarmed and could see the flames, it was almost too late for them to escape it. They gathered what they could collect from their camp and ran for the river, both to the east and west of their camp. Of course, there weren't enough canoes tied up to the bank, so most of them swam across the river alone or on horseback to escape the smoke and fire.

As soon as the fire burned itself out at the main gate of Fort Patrick Henry and the smoke cleared, the men inside the fort unbarred the gate and came out to watch the Cherokees depart. Alex, Martha and the rest of their group finally walked out of the smoke of the burned prairie grass and up to the fort, as if they had appeared out of a cloud.

"I am Captain Alex Mackenzie," said Alex. "Who is in charge here?"

"Colonel Russell is our commander," volunteered one of the men.

"Please take me to him," said Alex, who walked through the gate and into the fort with Martha and the rest of his party.

They were led into the office of the fort commandant, who was waiting for them.

"I am Captain Alex Mackenzie. Are you Colonel Russell?" asked Alex.

"That I am, lad," replied the colonel, standing up to shake hands with Alex. "Are you the one who is responsible for driving off the Cherokees?"

"We set the fires that drove off the warriors," replied Alex, gesturing to his wife, brothers and friends who were standing with him in front of the colonel.

"Well, we are indeed grateful for you and your friends. We owe you a great debt."

"Don't thank me too quickly; the Cherokees may come back."

"I don't think that they will. Your fire and smoke seems to have broken their spirit and their will to fight, for now anyway. I have men out following them, and if they do decide to come back, we'll be ready for them."

"Sir, I am here to report that Fort Watauga is under siege right now by the Cherokee also, and we need your help."

"I thought that might be the case. Are you all from Fort Watauga?"

"Yes, sir, we are," answered Alex.

"How can I help you?"

"How many men can you spare?"

"I can give you twenty-five right now and more if Dragging Canoe and his band don't come back, which I doubt they will."

"Twenty-five should be enough. There are far fewer warriors at Fort Watauga than there were here, but I don't think I can use the fire and smoke trick down there. I will have to come up with another idea," said Alex.

"Dinna fash yersel, lad, we'll come up with something," said Hugh who was standing behind Alex listening to the conversation.

Robert just shook his head, looked down, and then glanced at Alex. Alex smiled at him in return.

* * * *

The Raven

"We've burned all the cabins and farms in this valley. The only thing left is this fort. We need to burn it also," said the Raven to his war council.

"How are we going to do that?" asked one of the warriors.

"The sly white man has given me an idea. Let us shoot fire arrows at the fort like the one that the white man used to signal the men in the fort when they tricked us and rescued the white woman," said the Raven.

"We can fire flaming arrows at the fort into places where they cannot easily put out the fires. Perhaps we can burn enough of it so that we can get inside it and burn the rest to the ground. If we can get inside, we can also kill all the invaders."

The warriors all agreed with the plan and decided to execute it after the sun had set, when there would be less chance of being shot by the men in the fort.

The Raven's braves spent the day making fire arrows for the nighttime assault on Fort Watauga.

* * * *

Alex

After spending the night at Forth Patrick Henry, all the men were ready to go, including the twenty-five men that Colonel Russell had assigned to go with Alex. Alex had persuaded Martha to remain at Fort Patrick Henry as the guest of Colonel Russell, who had insisted that she stay. The colonel was extremely grateful to Alex for saving the fort and was very happy to oblige. He had helped Alex persuade her to stay at the fort, which turned out to be a difficult task. She put up a fight, but in the end they convinced her to remain behind.

"The shortest route to Fort Watauga is to follow the river valley of the south fork of the Holston and the Watauga Rivers. It is about twenty-five miles due southeast of here as the crow flies, but the river meanders a bit. So, it will be more like thirty-five miles of hiking. We should be there before nightfall if we move fast," said Alex.

The men left the fort on foot, moving at a ground-eating trot, since there were not enough horses for everyone to ride. They would alternate between trotting and walking depending on the trail and the terrain as the day wore on.

The strong south wind of the previous day that had stoked and pushed the grass fire toward the Cherokees just outside Fort Patrick Henry was ushering in a strong weather front from the northwest. Robert and Hugh collected their horses when they got to the place where they had left them hobbled the previous day. The plan that Alex had developed was for the Longhunter and Hugh to ride ahead of the group toward Fort Watauga. By the time the men had traveled most of the distance to Fort Watauga, the wind had shifted around to the west and dark low clouds were beginning to appear on the western horizon as the sun was just beginning to sink behind the clouds.

When the Longhunter and Hugh arrived near Fort Watauga on horseback, the Longhunter took off on a side trail as planned and circled the fort through the trees. He worked his way around behind the fort, dismounted, and then ran straight toward it. He hailed the fort as soon as he was under the pickets. It wasn't long before a rope dropped over the side, and he climbed up the fort's wall. As soon as he was in the fort, he reported to Colonel Tipton and then gathered Alex's men, who were still inside defending the fort. The Longhunter told them the plan Alex had devised and prepared them to execute it.

Hugh dismounted at a location behind the Cherokees to survey the situation while waiting for Alex and the rest of the men to arrive.

As Alex and the men from Fort Patrick Henry approached the fort, the Cherokees, led by the Raven, were on the move toward the fort also. The sky was darkening, and the Raven thought that the musket fire from the fort would be less accurate in the dark conditions. The warriors lit a fire in a small hollow about one hundred yards from the fort, just at the extreme limit of musket range, where they had staged some fuel and tinder. They used the fire to light the flaming arrows they had previously prepared. Then they shot them in high arcs at the fort, trying to land the fiery arrows in places where the settlers could not reach them, such as the roofs of the buildings inside the fort.

By the time Alex and his men arrived in the trees behind them to join Hugh, the warriors already had several fires burning at the fort, and the men inside were having a difficult time putting them out. Some of the roofs were fairly well engulfed in flames.

The gist of Alex's plan was to first kill the Raven, which he felt would be like cutting off the head of a snake. As soon as the Raven was dead, Robert and Hugh would signal the Longhunter in the fort to sally forth with Alex's men. Then Alex and the twenty-five men from Fort Patrick Henry would attack the warriors from the rear. Alex thought that the attack on two fronts would confuse the Cherokees and make them look to the Raven for guidance. If the Raven was dead, there was a good chance that the warriors would flee rather than fight.

Alex spotted the Raven just after he had fired a flaming arrow toward the fort and run back to prepare another fiery arrow to shoot at the fort. Alex did not want to use his musket because he knew that he would need it for the attack on the warriors, and he might not have time to reload it. So he pulled his longbow off his shoulder and strung the bow string. He notched an arrow into the center of bow string, drew it back, and took aim at the Raven. He let the arrow fly just as the Raven bent over to light another arrow in the fire. Alex's arrow flight was a bit too high. As it passed just over the Raven's back, it was close enough that the sound and wind of its passage alerted the Raven. The Raven suddenly looked up, aware of the danger he was in. As he gazed around to seek out the source of the danger, he spied Alex with the longbow and realized that Alex had fired an arrow at him.

"A da-his-di ni-hi!" yelled the Raven running straight at Alex.

Alex didn't understand Cherokee, but he suspected that the Raven had yelled, "I am going to kill you," or something close to that. Alex was correct. As the Raven approached him, still running straight at him, Alex had no choice but to risk a pistol shot and perhaps spoil his plan, so he pulled his pistol from his belt, cocked the flintlock, and took deadly aim at the Raven. At this range, there was no way he could miss killing the Raven.

But the weather front had moved closer to Fort Watauga, and it had spawned a wall cloud that was moving in from the northwest. Lightning lit up the sky, and the sound of thunder masked the war whoops of the braves. The first few drops of rain were just beginning to come down ahead of the wall cloud.

Luck was not with Alex, because just as he pulled the trigger, a drop of rain landed in the pistol's pan, instantly wetting the dash of gunpowder in it. The sparks from the flint and steel flintlock fell harmlessly on the wet gunpowder, causing the pistol to misfire. Alex re-cocked the flintlock and pulled the trigger a second time, but the results were the same. The sparks from the flint would not ignite the wet gunpowder.

Alex tossed the pistol aside as the Raven neared him. The Raven didn't hesitate, and when he was just a few steps away, leaped straight at Alex in a flying dive just like the one he had performed at the Watauga River bank. Alex grabbed the Raven by the front of his buckskin tunic and rolled down to the ground on his back, throwing the Raven over the top of him and pulling down on him at the same time. The Raven flew right over the top of Alex and then stopped, lying on the ground on his back. Alex held on to the Raven's buckskin tunic and rolled backwards, coming up on top of the Raven. Alex pulled his knife out of his boot and pressed it to the Raven's throat. Anger flashed in the Raven's eyes as he glanced down at the knife at this throat. The wall cloud had passed over them, and they were drenched as the pouring rain suddenly engulfed them.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Where did Alex get off to?" asked Hugh.

"He fired his longbow and after that I lost track of him. That wall of rain that opened up from the sky and moved across the plain has obscured everything," replied Robert.

It was now raining as hard as they had ever seen it since they had lived on the frontier. The clouds had opened up and poured torrents of water from the sky as only an Appalachian thunderstorm can. They were all instantly soaked to the skin, and their hair was plastered against their heads.

"Let's signal the fort and stick with the plan. We'll find Alex later. The thunderstorm has put out all the fires at the fort, along with the camp fire the Cherokees were using to light the fire arrows. There's no more fire threat to the fort," continued Robert.

"Aye, I'll get it done," said Hugh as he ran toward the fort, avoiding the attacking warriors, and hailed the Longhunter.

"Lead out the men, Alexander!" yelled Hugh.

"Aye," answered the Longhunter, as the Fort Watauga gates opened and the men came streaming out to attack the Cherokees.

When Robert saw the fort gates open and the men inside the fort come out, he rallied the twenty-five men that had come with them from Fort Patrick Henry and simultaneously attacked the warriors from the rear. The Cherokees were caught in a no man's land between two attacking forces. Their fire arrow assault on the fort had failed, and they were trying to determine what to do next. They looked for the Raven for orders, and when they couldn't locate him, they decided to flee into the trees to escape the attacks coming from both sides, just as Alex had predicted.

* * * *

Alex

Alex didn't feel right just slitting the Raven's throat, butchering him while he was down, even though he could have if he had wanted to. He knew that he should, and that the Raven must die. But Alex also felt that the Raven deserved a chance to fight like a man. So Alex released his grip, rose to his feet, and allowed the Raven to do the same. If he had to kill the Raven, he wanted it to be in a fair fight.

The sudden rain storm had reduced his visibility to a few yards. He didn't know if his plan to save the fort was working or not. As far as he knew, it was only him and the Raven, locked in mortal combat, and nothing else in the world existed.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance," said the Raven in passable English as he drew his knife from his belt sheath.

"You speak our language," said the surprised Alex as the two men circled each other.

"I learned it from our captives," said the Raven, lunging and making a wicked slash at Alex, a move Alex easily evaded. "You should have killed me when you found me in the cave," continued the Raven.

"Why did you let us fix your leg and then accept our hospitality while you healed?" asked Alex

"I had no choice," replied the Raven. "When I left your cabin, I left you and your woman in peace and did not kill you and her as a payment for fixing my leg. Now we are even and my debt to you is no more."

"Why don't you just take your warriors and leave?"

"We will never leave while you invaders are here."

"Why are you so determined to die?"

Alex knew from the Raven's feints and from the way that he fought that he was not in the same league that Alex was as a knife fighter.

"Living with invaders on our land is not acceptable or honorable," said the Raven, making another swipe at Alex, who backed away from it easily.

The pouring rain had made the ground muddy and slippery where Alex and the Raven circled each other near a small stream that eventually fed into the Watauga River. The Raven could also tell that he was outmatched in the hand-to-hand knife fight with Alex, so he did the only thing he could. He feinted with his knife and when Alex easily backed away again, the Raven followed him closely and shoved him toward the small stream. Alex slipped on the muddy ground, stumbled backward, and lost his balance, flopping on his back into the middle of the water. The Raven was on top of him instantly, holding Alex's head underwater with one hand and attempting to stab him with the knife in his other hand.

* * * *

Robert and Hugh

"Hi ho, the warriors appear tae be gang. Do ye think we should go after them?" asked Hugh.

"Nae, let them go," replied Robert. "Let's find Alex."

Robert and Hugh left, with the Longhunter and Jonas in tow, running in the direction that they had last seen Alex. The four men spread out into a line while keeping as much distance between them as they could in the low visibility and still maintain contact with each other. Soon they walked past the last place that they had seen Alex.

Suddenly a rifle shot rang out, causing the men to stop in their tracks. They all looked at the Longhunter, who had fired the shot, and went running over to him. As the Longhunter lowered his rifle, they all turned and looked in the direction of his shot. They saw the Raven slowly stand up in the small creek and then walk toward the creek bank holding his knife. Just as the Raven reached the bank, he collapsed like a sawn down tree, into the mud, face first.

As soon as the Raven had stood up in the creek and stepped off of him, Alex had raised up from under water, sputtering and coughing as he expelled water from his lungs. Hugh ran into the creek and reached down to help Alex stand up in the stream. The Longhunter's musket ball had entered the Raven's side and punctured both lungs and the arteries that led to his heart as it passed through his body. He was dead when he fell into the muddy bank. Hugh helped Alex walk to the bank where the Raven had fallen, where they joined Robert, the Longhunter and Jonas standing over the Raven's body.

"You saved my life," said Alex to the Longhunter, offering him his hand to shake hands with him.

"I owed ye one from back at the Watkins Ferry. Not that anyone is keeping score," replied the smiling Longhunter shaking hands with Alex.

"How did ye let the Raven get on top of ye Alex?" asked Hugh.

"By acting like an idiot," answered Alex. "It won't happen again."

* * * *

Kings Pinnacle Part 6

Major Ferguson

"Congratulations, Major Ferguson. Charleston has fallen. You and your men fought well during the battle. I am sailing back to New York in order to more effectively direct the overall strategy of the war. I want you to stay here in the southern colonies. I am reassigning the men in your command and appointing you as Inspector of Militia to recruit and train local Loyalists to fight the rebels," said General Clinton.

"Sir, I would be pleased to perform that task for you. I have adopted a new training technique that I am anxious to try out on the new recruits. I think it will be very useful in bringing them up to speed most expeditiously," replied Major Ferguson.

"Very well. Do whatever you think best. I am assigning your base of operations to be Fort Ninety-Six in western South Carolina. You will recruit Loyalists from the area around that frontier area and train them at the fort. I must be on my way immediately. Good luck to you, sir," concluded General Clinton.

Major Ferguson bowed as General Clinton left the office and smiled to himself at his new opportunity.

It was late May, 1780. A little over two years had passed since Alex had left Valley Forge and a little over a month had passed since the Longhunter killed the Raven outside Fort Watauga. And the British had just taken Charleston.

* * * *

Alex

"Since the British took Charleston, they have expanded their theater of operations into the western regions of North Carolina, South Carolina, and Virginia," said Colonel Tipton.

"They have been raiding the patriots' farms and businesses all along the frontier just east of the Appalachians. They have also captured and cut off one of our main grain sources at Musgrove Mill in western South Carolina. And they have taken control of the ford at the Enoree River near there. There are only about two hundred Loyalist men holding the mill and ford. We need to send about an equal number of troops over the Appalachian Mountains to run them out of there."

"Yes, sir, how can I help?" asked Alex standing in Colonel Tipton's office inside Fort Watauga. Several months had passed since the fall of Charleston. It had been a busy time for the men stationed at the fort.

"Captain Mackenzie, I want you and your men to go along on this raid. Colonel Isaac Shelby will be in overall command, and he will give you direct orders. You will muster your men the day after tomorrow in the early morning and leave to go over the mountains at first light. We at Fort Watauga need to do our part to help in our struggle for independence."

"Yes, sir," replied Alex.

Alex left the fort with his orders and soon dispatched riders to round up his men for the raid. Hugh, Robert, the Longhunter, and Jonas Dunne were the first to report. Soon all of Alex's men turned up, packed for the journey over the mountains.

"Where're we headed, Alex?" asked Hugh.

"We're going over the Appalachian Mountains to attack a Loyalists camp near Musgrove Mill in South Carolina," replied Alex.

"And where're we headed after that?" asked Hugh.

"We'll have to come back over the mountains so that we can get the harvest in," answered Alex.

"Over the mountains and then back over the mountains; before long people will be call us the Overmountain Men," laughed Hugh.

The trip over the mountains took almost a week, but Fort Watauga soldiers were soon assembled with Colonel Shelby's men just beyond the ridge that led down the hill to Musgrove Mill and the Enoree River ford.

"The Loyalists are located just over the ridge, sitting behind fortifications. Does anyone have a suggestion on how we should go about attacking their camp?" asked Colonel Shelby."

"I have an idea," volunteered Alex.

"What is it, Captain Mackenzie?"

"Well, the Loyalists are pretty well dug in behind their fortifications, and if we attack them directly, we'll lose a lot of men and probably not do much damage to them. I suggest that I take my men over the ridge and attack the camp in a frontal assault that they will expect. In the process of attacking them, we will act like we are confused about what we are supposed to be doing. I will have some men go one way and other men go the other way. Men will be bumping into each other and creating all kinds of confusion, with a few fights breaking out among my own men. The enemy will see our small numbers and our confusion and come out from behind their battlements to attack us, thinking that we are easy prey.

As soon as they begin to come out after us, we will retreat back over the ridge with the Loyalists hot on our heels. We will lead them directly back here to you. Your men will set up a defensive position here so that when the enemy comes chasing after us over the ridge, your men can fire on them from behind our own fortifications."

"Excellent idea, Captain Mackenzie; let's get to work setting up our defensive positions. We don't need anything fancy; just fallen timber and brush to hide behind and to rest our rifles on so that we can aim properly," concluded Colonel Shelby.

The men immediately set about building their fortifications. As soon as the colonel had inspected the fortifications and deemed them ready, he notified Alex that it was time to execute the plan. Alex and his men assembled for the short march over the ridge to attack the Loyalist camp.

What Alex and Colonel Shelby did not know was that the initial two hundred Loyalists militiamen had been reinforced with another one hundred Loyalists plus two hundred additional provincial regular British Army troops on their way to join Major Ferguson at Fort Ninety-Six. The patriots did not know that they were outnumbered by over two to one. That was probably for the best. Had they known, they might not have moved forward with the plan of attack.

When Alex's men advanced over the ridge and began acting like they were confused, it didn't take long for Alex to realize that they had encountered a much larger force than he had anticipated. It didn't take much feigned confusion for the enemy to come out of their fortifications and attack them. As the Loyalists attacked them, Alex and his men ran as fast as they could over the ridge, where they jumped over the downed timber and brush to reassemble at the rear and form a reserve force for Colonel Shelby.

The Loyalists and British regulars saw the battlements as soon as they came over the ridge. Most of them fired their rifles too soon, causing little damage. Colonel Shelby's men were more disciplined and held their fire until the enemy came well within range. Then they used their rifles to a devastating effect on the British and the British sympathizers. The attackers soon realized that they had superior numbers, so the British regulars formed up for a bayonet charge against Colonel Shelby's right flank.

"Captain Mackenzie, I need you to reinforce my right flank. It looks like the enemy's bayonet charge may break through our lines there," said Colonel Shelby.

"We will take care of it," replied Alex.

"Men, I want you to remember your training, and especially your marksmanship training, as we attack," said Alex to his men.

Alex's men maneuvered around to the right flank and then attacked the British regulars, yelling Cherokee war cries that they had learned at the siege of Fort Watauga several months earlier. Several of the British regular enemy officers were killed outright and the bayonet charge was stopped. The British regulars and the Loyalists began to flee the battlefield.

All the patriots behind the battlements saw the devastating effect of the war cries, so they came out of their defensive positions, shrieking war cries of their own. Soon they had all the Loyalists and British regulars on the run. The rest of the battle took only a few minutes, and the patriots killed or captured most of the enemy.

With their job done for the present, the Overmountain Men, as Hugh had named them, headed back over the mountains.

* * * *

Major Ferguson

"General Cornwallis, welcome to my camp here at Gilbert Town. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" asked Major Ferguson as the newly arrived General Cornwallis walked into his tent with one of his sentries.

"Major Ferguson, I am on an inspection tour of the southern theater of the campaign against the rebels. General Clinton has given me command of the entire southern theater, and you now report directly to me," replied His Excellency The Most Honorable General Lord Charles Cornwallis, The Earl Cornwallis.

"Congratulations on your promotion," replied the major.

"What, may I ask, are you doing this far east of Fort Ninety-Six with your army in tow?" asked the general.

"Some of the rebels killed a number of my men last week at Musgrove Mill, which is in this vicinity, and took control of a ford near there. I am out here chasing them down to punish them."

"I see and I wish you luck in your hunting," replied the general.

"May I show you around the camp while you are here visiting us?" asked the major.

"That will not be necessary. I see that you are currently conducting your staff meeting. My time is short here. I must retire to Charlotte immediately. I will stay only until the end of your meeting. Please continue what you were doing before my interruption."

"Very well, sir. The captain here was just reporting the results of his patrol looking for the rebels. Please continue, Captain DePeyster."

"Major Ferguson, we have captured a number of the rebels from beyond the Appalachian Mountains who took part in the earlier raid at Camden and the recent raid at Musgrove Mill. Most of the rebels have retreated to their valleys and settlements over the mountains, but we captured a few of them before they could get away. I thought you might be interested in interrogating them," said Captain DePeyster.

"Bring me one of the more prominent captives," said the major.

The captain left and soon returned with a grizzled frontiersman named Samuel Phillips to stand in front of the major. The captain whispered something to Major Ferguson and then sat beside him for the interrogation.

"I understand from Captain DePeyster that you are related to Colonel Isaac Shelby who resides at a fort of his own making on the frontier," said Major Ferguson to the captive.

"That I am, Your Highness. He is my cousin."

Major Ferguson ignored the royal title, but his irritation at the smug frontiersman's sass showed in his demeanor.

"I am going to pardon you so that you can take a message back over the mountains to your cousin Colonel Shelby and all the rest of the rebels who operate out of the settlements there."

"I will be happy to deliver your message, Lieutenant," replied Samuel Phillips just to tweak the major again by reducing his rank.

"I am a British Army major, not a lieutenant, you ignorant frontier person," grunted the clearly angry Major Ferguson.

After the major gained control of himself, he continued his instructions.

"However, my message is that if the so called Overmountain Men don't lay down their arms, I will march my army over the mountains, hang their leaders, and lay waste their country with fire and sword. Please deliver that message as a condition of your pardon."

"I will be happy to deliver your message, Your Honor," replied the grinning Samuel Phillips, trying to further tweak the major.

"Who may I say the message is from?"

"You may say that Major Ferguson sends the message and that they should heed it if they value their lives."

"That will be all," continued the major, dismissing the prisoner and his staff officers.

When the tent was empty, Major Ferguson turned back to speak with General Cornwallis.

"General is there anything at all that I can do for you?"

"As you know, I am not in favor of using the Loyalists to fight for us. I think that they are unreliable and hardheaded, ignore orders, and are not capable of being trained," said General Cornwallis.

"I am aware of your views, Sir, but I have begun using a silver infantry whistle to allow me more control over a larger number of men, and they seem to be taking to it very well."

"I wish you luck, Major Ferguson, but I doubt that the results will be what you expect. I must take my leave now. Goodbye."

"Thank you sir, and travel safely," replied Major Ferguson as the general exited his tent.

* * * *

Alex

"The reason that I called you men all here to the fort is that Colonel Shelby has ridden in from Shelby's Fort with a message for us. On the way, he stopped at Fort Patrick Henry to collect Colonel Russell and other officers from that area. Colonel Shelby, the floor is yours," said Colonel Tipton in his office at Fort Watauga.

"I would rather have my cousin Samuel Phillips tell you the news," replied Colonel Shelby, pointing to his cousin who stood up and removed his fur cap to address the group.

"I was raiding with McDowell southeast of here over the mountains after we beat the British at Camden. We got into a tight spot west of Gilbert Town and were outnumbered by Major Ferguson's forces. I was captured and taken to his camp at Gilbert Town. They roughed me up a little, but soon I was brought before the major himself. He pardoned me and sent me as a messenger to tell you gentlemen that if we don't lay down our muskets, he is going to march over the mountains with his army and hang all of us and burn our crops and everything else down," concluded Sam Phillips, who abruptly sat back down and put his fur cap back on his head.

"Before we decide, I wanted to ask you gentlemen what you think," said Colonel Tipton, glancing at Alex.

Alex saw the glance and knew that Colonel Tipton wanted him to speak up, so he stood up. All the men in the room turned their heads to look at him.

"My thought is that we not stay in our cabins here and wait for this major and his army to show up on our doorstep to attack us like the Cherokee did. We need to take the battle to him. I propose that we raise an army from all of the settlements west of the Appalachians. Then we should travel over the mountains to find this major and his army and attack them before they attack us," said Alex and sat back down.

"Here! Here!" shouted the men in the room as they all stood up and cheered.

"That settles it if no one else has anything to say," said Colonel Tipton.

"We will muster here at the Sycamore Shoals two weeks from today with all the men we can find. Someone needs to take a wagon over to the lead mine at Bumpass Cove and pick up all the shot that is available. I also need men to head over to the Pattons' powder mill to collect all the gunpowder they have on hand. The women need to start cooking trail rations for the trip. Colonel John Sevier will be leading the main body of men from Fort Watauga."

"Captain Mackenzie, I want you and your men to leave several days ahead of the main body to scout out the route we will take and to locate this Major Ferguson and his army. He may have moved out of Gilbert Town by now. Now everyone has a lot to do, so let's get going," concluded Colonel Tipton.

The group broke up as men left to take care of the many things that they needed to do to get ready for the trip.

Alex gathered his brothers, the Longhunter, and Jonas to help him get his men ready for the mission. They were ready to leave a few days before the main body mustered at Sycamore Shoals.

"Martha, I am going to have to go now," said Alex as he held her in his arms on the morning of the day when he was leaving.

"When will you be back?" asked the teary-eyed Martha.

"It could be a while."

"Then I'll go with you."

"You can't go, Martha. There will be a lot of bloodshed."

"You know I can fight as well as any man."

"I know that, but someone has to stay here in case this Major Ferguson gets past us and comes over the mountains."

"Well, alright. I'll be here waiting for you when you do come home," said Martha, and she kissed Alex goodbye.

Alex and his men marched southeast toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. They marched all day and made their first camp at the base of Roan Mountain, at Shelving Rock. Jonas and the Longhunter marked the trail using trail signs and staked out the area where the main body should camp the first night on the trail.

The next day they climbed over the Blue Ridge Mountains at Yellow Mountain Gap on their way to hunt down Major Ferguson and his army.

* * * *

Major Ferguson

"I'm getting tired of that damn silver whistle," grumbled one of the Loyalist troops.

"Me, too, I like to shove it up...," said his mate, but the rest of his words were interrupted by a shouted command from Major Ferguson.

"One long whistle means stop, one short whistle is a signal for you to march to the right," yelled Major Ferguson. "This is not hard; just pay attention and remember what you are supposed to do."

Major Ferguson cut a dashing figure, riding around on his white charger. He wore his red British uniform under the checkered duster he had switched to after his green-clad Ferguson rifle infantry unit had been disbanded. The training of his Loyalists men was interrupted by Captain DePeyster, his second in command, riding up to speak with him.

"Sir, we have a report from our scouts that there is a large body of rebels headed toward our location."

"How many of them are there?"

"The report indicates that it could be more than one thousand men."

"That is a significant number and nearly the size of my own force here. Let's call it quits for the day. I think it might be wise if we move a little closer to Charlotte so that General Cornwallis can reinforce us if we need it," said Major Ferguson.

He then suspended training for the rest of the day and retired to his tent to prepare a report to send to General Cornwallis. Part of the report read:

"the backwater men have crossed over the mountains, and I am in desperate need of reinforcements"

"Captain DePeyster, please assign one of the men to carry this message to General Cornwallis in Charlotte and await a reply from him. We will be breaking camp tomorrow morning at first light in order to move our troops to Charlotte to join General Cornwallis," commanded Major Ferguson.

"Yes, Sir," replied the captain, who took the dispatch and went looking for a courier.

Major Ferguson walked back to his tent and a buxom young redhead named Virginia Sal who had been accompanying him on his patrol of the frontier.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Virginia Sal as the major walked into their tent and she saw the troubled look on his face.

"It's nothing that I can't handle. We are packing up and leaving to ride to Charlotte in the morning. Now where were we, Ginny?" asked the dashing young major.

Virginia Sal giggled and then fell into his arms.

* * * *

Alex

"It looks like they are sending a courier riding toward Charlotte," reported the Longhunter.

"We need to stop that messenger, but we can't risk a rifle shot this close to them. They're bound to hear it and know that we are out here," replied Alex.

Alex pulled his longbow off his shoulder and attached the bowstring. He notched an arrow and pulled the arrow back, bending the bow. Controlling his breathing, he took deadly aim on the British courier riding at a trot toward the east. As the courier came into range, Alex released the arrow and let it fly toward the courier. The arc of the arrow was not too high, but the speeding arrow soon found its mark in the neck of the courier, who tumbled off his horse and lay dead on the trail.

"I ken that wee bow of yours has come in mighty handy from time to time," said Hugh.

"I dinna ken I have the patience for one, but I like yer idea of using primitive weapons. The tomahawk is more my style. I think I will get hold of one of them," continued Hugh.

"Some of you men chase down his horse and dispose of his body," ordered Alex and two of his men shot off to accomplish that task.

Alex and his men had been shadowing Major Ferguson and his army for two days and sending back reports to the main body of Overmountain Men regarding the location and disposition of the Loyalists. He did not have enough men to confront Major Ferguson's vastly superior numbers, but he hoped he could cut off the major's communications with Charlotte and delay his retreat long enough for the main body of Overmountain Men to catch up.

Hugh was seen the next day with a tomahawk tucked into his belt. No one knew where it had found it.

* * * *

Major Ferguson

The Loyalists, under the command of Major Ferguson, were on the march toward Charlotte early the next morning. They had been rousted out by their officers, had hurriedly packed their gear and baggage and were already on the trail. They had gone only a few miles when one of their scouts appeared on the horizon and rode back to meet them.

"Sir, the trail narrows into the trees ahead of us, and someone has felled a number of trees into an interlocking grid that covers the road. The men would have to climb over the downed trees, and I don't know how the baggage train will get over it," reported the scout.

"How difficult will it be to clear the trail?" asked Major Ferguson.

"We could do it with axes, but it will take a while," replied the scout after which Major Ferguson turned to Captain DePeyster.

"I want you to take a detachment of men with axes and go ahead of us to clear the trail," ordered the major.

"Yes, Sir, I'll get to it immediately," said the captain.

"We will rest the men here until the trail is clear. Send back a messenger as soon as you have the trail clear so that we can proceed."

"Yes, sir," replied Captain DePeyster, who pulled his reins around to begin the task of rounding up some men and axes.

* * * *

Alex

"That'll slow 'em down a wee bit," said Hugh as he watched the Loyalists scouts arrive at his hastily constructed abatis made of interlocked tree trunks lying across the trail.

Hugh and all of Alex's men had worked during the night, felling trees that grew close beside the trail so that they formed an interlocking grid that could not easily be crossed by men, horses, or wagons. The technique that they used was to hack down trees so that the tops fell toward the approaching enemy diagonally across the trail. First one tree on the right side of the road was taken down and then the second tree on the opposite side of the trail was hacked down. The men alternated cutting down trees from both sides of the trail that fell diagonally on one side and then the other until they had created a large interlocked grid, forming a giant obstacle on the trail.

They knew that it would take the Loyalists a lot of time and effort to clear the trail. Because of the interlocking pattern, it couldn't be cleared by attaching a rope to a tree and pulling it off the trail. The Loyalists couldn't navigate around it because the trees were too dense on both sides of the trail. If the Loyalists decided to turn around and find another trail, it would set them back even more. The only thing that the Loyalists could do was to chop the trees away with axes.

"We need to send someone to tell the main body that the British are making a run for Charlotte or Fort Ninety-Six. They need to hurry if they want to catch up to them," said Alex, as he left to find a messenger to send back to inform the main body of Overmountain Men about the new development.

The abatis did its job and slowed the British, but they eventually cut their way through to continue their march toward Charlotte.

* * * *

Major Ferguson

"How close to Charlotte are we?" asked Major Ferguson.

"I would estimate that we are about thirty-five miles west of Charlotte right now. We could be there in about ten to twelve hours from now if we push ahead, which I strongly suggest that we do," replied Captain DePeyster.

"What do the local people call this area?"

"I'm not sure what they call the area, but that mountain straight ahead of us is called Kings Mountain."

"That mountain looks like a very defensible position. Let's ride up to the summit and take a look," said the major.

Kings Mountain was a sixty-foot-tall mountain located in a heavily forested area on the border between North Carolina and South Carolina. Its steep sides made it difficult to approach directly in a straight line riding from the base to the summit. The easiest trail to the top wound back and forth across the face of the slope.

The entire summit was shaped like an inverted footprint with a narrow heel print to the southwest and a broader ball of the foot area to the northeast. The southwest portion of the summit was slightly higher than the larger northeast portion of the summit. There was a slight saddle between the heel and the toe of the summit near the arch of the footprint. The highest point on the summit was located near the heel and was called Kings Pinnacle.

When Major Ferguson and his officers had reached the summit, they dismounted to survey the site.

"This looks excellent. We can fire down on the rebels from all directions since we will hold the higher ground. On this mountain, we can hold out as long as it takes for reinforcements to arrive. Our progress toward Charlotte has not been without delays and I do not want to get caught by the rebels on the level ground between here and Charlotte. Gentlemen, move our army to this mountain top and deploy the men in strong defensive positions. Here we can hold off the rebels and have clear fields of fire against them if they attack us up here. We will make our stand against them here," ordered Major Ferguson.

"Sir, with due respect, I suggest that we continue on to Charlotte, where we will have a much more defensible position in the town. We can combine our troops with General Cornwallis's troops to create a force vastly superior to the one the rebels have," said Captain DePeyster.

"I think that you overestimate the number and fighting ability of the rebels, Captain."

"Those Overmountain Men from the west are not like the other rebels here in the east, air."

"What do you mean?"

"They are better fighters, and they are hardened to battlefield conditions. They learned fighting techniques from our Cherokee allies. And they have already defeated them."

"I don't think that they are much different from your ordinary backcountry man, and I will not be pissed on by a set of mongrels," countered Major Ferguson.

"Sir, I ask you again to proceed on to Charlotte with utmost haste."

"You are bordering on insubordination, Captain DePeyster. I suggest that you drop that line of thought and begin thinking about making arrangements for my army to camp here on this mountain. Have my tent pitched near the troop's tents on the northeast section of the summit, and stock it with wine. Be sure that Sal finds her way there. Also, Captain DePeyster, bring me another courier that I can send to General Cornwallis," concluded Major Ferguson, who turned to look away from his captain, clearly disgusted by the conversation and Captain DePeyster's comments.

"Yes, sir," replied the duly cowed Captain DePeyster. "Sir, by the by, reports indicate that the Overmountain Men are on our trail, though still a few days behind us, and now their force has grown to be approximately the same size as our force."

"Evenly matched in number, eh? Well, we should have no problem with them in an even fight. We are better trained, better supplied, and better commanded. We probably have reinforcements on the way right now also. I want the troops to set up camp as soon as they arrive and then to start work on defensive positions immediately," said Major Ferguson.

* * * *

* * * *

Alex

"The British have camped on top of Kings Mountain, to the northeast of the pinnacle, and from the looks of it they are digging in to stay there," said the Longhunter.

"We need to make sure that they stay where they are," said Alex.

"Round up Robert and Hugh, and then let's deploy our men so that we have the mountain surrounded. I don't want any couriers or messengers to break through. I want to hold them here, if we can, until the main body arrives."

"Okay, I'll find Robert and Hugh."

Alex deployed his men in a ring around the base of Kings Mountain, with two men placed every hundred yards or so. The men were instructed to make sure that no one passed through the blockade. One man was to be awake at all times. It was unlikely that the Loyalists would send a messenger after dark, but Alex wanted to make sure that they didn't. Alex, Robert, and Hugh took turns all day and all night riding a circuit around the base of the mountain, checking on the sentry posts to make sure that the men were awake and supplied with anything they needed.

The Longhunter and Jonas were true frontiersmen and knew how to move soundlessly through the forest. The Longhunter had lived with the Iroquois for a while and had learned their hunting techniques. The messenger that Major Ferguson finally sent toward Charlotte the next day could be heard coming down the mountain a mile away as he crashed through the brush, riding east. Alex had anticipated more messengers dispatched in that direction. He had placed the Longhunter and Jonas on the northeast side of the mountain for that very reason. The courier didn't stand a chance against the Longhunter and Jonas. His throat was cut before he reached the first creek.

"It looks like the British are going to have to fight us without any help," said the Longhunter, winking at Jonas.

"I suspect so," replied Jonas, grinning and wiping the blood off his knife.

Early that afternoon, an advance party of nine hundred Overmountain Men rode in and dismounted at the base of Kings Mountain. They had ridden flat out all night on horseback and were spoiling for a fight. Their leaders located Alex and consulted with him on the status of the deployment of the Loyalists.

"Captain Mackenzie, let's get this over with and rid the country of these vermin," said Colonel Sevier. "We have the mountain surrounded. All that remains is the cleaning up. The plan is simple. Let's surround the mountain with patriots and destroy the Loyalists."

"Yes, sir," replied Alex. "Let's have at it."

* * * *

Major Ferguson

"What the devil is that screaming all about?" asked Major Ferguson.

He had just emerged from his tent, tucking his shirt into his trousers, after his earlier exertions with Sal and an afternoon nap. Virginia Sal stuck her head out of the tent flap and peered at the major.

"Sir, it's the damned yelling boys charging up the mountain at us; this is ominous," replied Captain Abraham DePeyster, who came running up to the major's tent.

"Nonsense," replied the major. "Deploy the men in our defensive positions around the camp and repel the backwoodsmen."

"Yes, sir," replied the captain, leaving to rally the Loyalists and direct them into their defensive positions.

The Loyalists were literally taken by surprise, but they did hold the high ground. It was going to be an uphill battle, so to speak, for the Overmountain Men.

Alex and his men joined the battle with the other Overmountain Men charging up Kings Mountain. The patriots used cover and concealment, firing from behind rocks and trees. When the Overmountain Men got close enough to the summit, Major Ferguson, sitting on his charger in his British uniform with his checkered duster draped over it, would blow his silver whistle and order a bayonet charge to drive the patriots back down the mountain. The patriots did not have bayonets for their rifles and could not resist the charge. The Overmountain Men would then regroup at the base of the mountain and charge back up again.

"Captain DePeyster, tell the men that they are shooting too high at the rebels because of the downhill angle of the shots. Tell them to lower their aim," shouted Captain Ferguson.

"Yes, sir," the harried captain yelled back. "Sir, we are taking a lot of casualties and the number of wounded men is beginning to overwhelm the medics."

"Take a few men off the line to help the medics and round up any other non-combatants including Sal to help them also."

"Yes, sir," replied the captain, who left to accomplish the task.

The wounded Loyalists were soon lying everywhere. Virginia Sal took charge of a number of them.

"Move some of the most wounded into Major Ferguson's tent," said Virginia Sal to an orderly.

"Yes ma'am; will do," replied the orderly.

The work inside the tent was grisly, and soon Virginia Sal stuck her head out of the tent flap to see if there were any more wounded men to move into the tent.

The musket ball struck her in the side of her head. Her bright red hair made her an easy target, and she was dead before she hit the ground. Major Ferguson saw her fall but could do nothing about it. Well, so much for Virginia Sal, thought the major.

* * * *

Alex

After an hour of fighting and being constantly driven back, Alex was becoming concerned that the Overmountain Men would lose heart for the fight. They had been making almost no progress in taking the summit and were suffering high casualties. It looked as if the Loyalists' position on the summit was impregnable.

Alex asked the Longhunter and Jonas to scout out the Loyalists' positions on the mountain and give him the layout of their defenses. When the Longhunter and Jonas returned, Alex called a war council of his own men, much like he had seen General Washington do. His council consisted of Alex, Robert, Hugh, the Longhunter, and Jonas.

"What do the Loyalists' positions look like up top?" asked Alex.

"Most of them are formed up into a circular defense around the northeast part of the summit where their tents and camp are located," said the Longhunter. "But there are several of them stretched out in a long line from their camp all the way across the saddle to the southwest summit across Kings Pinnacle."

"They have over one thousand men total on the summit. How many of them are stretched out in that line from the camp to the southwest summit?" asked Alex.

"I would say no more than maybe two hundred or maybe a few more," answered the Longhunter and Jonas nodded.

"How many men do they have at the end of the line at the southwest most point of their line?"

"No more than twenty or thirty."

"Do they have any reinforcements positioned up there anywhere near the Kings Pinnacle?"

"Not that I saw," replied the Longhunter. "Jonas, did you see any?"

Jonas shook his head, indicating that he had not.

"Do you think we can climb the southwestern most point of the mountain?"

"It's pretty steep over there, but it can be done. We might have to fix some ropes in a few places, but it can be done."

"Okay, here's what I want us to do. First, Robert, I want you and Hugh to gather thirty men including you two, the Longhunter, and Jonas. Choose men that are young, spry and our best shots. Meet me, the Longhunter, and Jonas at the base of the mountain at its southwest most point," said Alex. "We will gather there in ten minutes. Let's get moving."

The Longhunter, Jonas, and Alex trotted out to the southwest base of the mountain to scout the best trail up the mountain. When Robert, Hugh, and the additional men arrived, Alex, the Longhunter and Jonas were waiting for them. They formed up so that Alex could address them.

"Men, we are going to divide up into five groups with six men in each group. I will head up one group, Robert, Hugh, Alexander Glendenning, and Jonas will head up the other four. First, we are going to climb this side of the mountain. Alexander and Jonas will show us the easiest way up that they have scouted for us. When we get near the top, I want each man to stomp out a level reloading spot just below the top rim. When I give the command, I want one man from each of the five groups to step up to the top rim and lean forward into a firing position. As soon as you assume a firing position, you will pick out a target, zero in, and fire as soon as you can accurately sight a target."

"Take your shot, aim low, and remember they don't have any fortifications on this side of the mountain. If you hit a man in the leg, it will take him out of action. That's as good as a kill. Don't worry about firing too low. They will be hunkered down. Remember that a shot that is too low may skip off the ground and may still score a hit. As soon as you fire, scurry back down to reload at your reloading spot. Then the next man in your group will step up to the top and take a shot. Then the number three man and so on. By the time the number six man has taken his shot, the number one man should be reloaded, and then it will be his turn again. We will maintain a steady rate of fire using this rotation system and keep it up as long as it takes to drive them off of their positions on this side of the summit."

"I want to kill or disable as many as we can and get them moving back toward their camp on the northeast side. As soon as they start moving in that direction, we will all climb up and herd them in that direction, taking turns firing into their ranks. As soon as we take Kings Pinnacle, we will have the high ground on them and can fire down on them for a change."

"I want everyone to load up and close their flintlocks, but do not cock them. We don't want to let the enemy know in advance that we are coming up this side of the mountain," concluded Alex.

The climb was not easy but went off without a hitch. As soon as the men were ready and in position near the top, Alex gave the command and began the musket fire using the rotation system. They kept it up at a steady pace, just as Alex had planned it. The Loyalists fired back, but Alex and his men were firing at them from a position where only their heads were exposed to enemy fire and the patriots suffered no casualties. After several minutes, the steady musket fire by Alex and his men began to take its toll. The Loyalists began retreating toward their camp and possible reinforcements.

Alex gave the command for all his men to climb up and herd the Loyalists toward their camp. The men followed orders, yelling like the Cherokees as they climbed up and attacked.

"Let's keep them moving back toward their camp," shouted Alex as his men moved forwarded, firing as they went.

Alex was fighting alongside Robert and Hugh as the three of them led the attack into the Loyalists troops. The men advanced by alternating firing and moving forward, and soon they had taken Kings Pinnacle. They formed a firing line on Kings Pinnacle and, as a result, they had the Loyalists bottled up on the northeast side of the top of Kings Mountain.

The other patriot troops, who were acting independently, saw what Alex had done and decided to attack in mass also. As the attack of the Overmountain Men gained momentum, the Loyalists soon began to raise white flags in surrender. The patriots were not ready to accept their surrender, and Major Ferguson was not ready to surrender either. Riding on his charger, he drew his sword, hacked off several of the white surrender flags, and attempted to rally his men.

Alex soon spotted Major Ferguson riding on his charger, blowing his silver whistle to direct his troops against the patriots' charge.

"Hurrah, brave lads; the day is ours!" yelled the major in a futile attempt to rally his troops.

Alex thought that if he could get off a shot at the major, it might quickly end the battle and spare some lives. Without Major Ferguson's influence, the Loyalists were sure to surrender. He reloaded Slayer and took aim at Major Ferguson, leaning into his firing position on Kings Pinnacle. Just as Alex squeezed off the shot, the major's horse reared up on its hind legs and the shot grazed the major's head, knocking him off his horse. Unfortunately for Major Ferguson, one of his spurs caught in the stirrup, and the horse bolted. The major was dragged along by the running horse.

Amazingly, the horse ran straight up toward Kings Pinnacle and straight at Alex, Robert, Hugh, the Longhunter, and Jonas, who were all standing there. Hugh jumped out on the trail along the top and blocked the horse's path, holding up his arms to create a barrier. The horse saw Hugh and stopped right in front of him. Hugh grabbed the reins and quieted the horse. Then Alex, Robert, and Hugh walked around the horse and looked down at Major Ferguson, lying beside his horse, with his boot caught in the stirrup. The major rolled over and appeared to be almost unhurt, except for a few scratches, despite having been dragged a hundred yards by his horse.

As he rolled over and laid eyes on Alex, Major Ferguson pointed at Alex and shouted, "You, Mackenzie!"

"Why, hullo Patrick," said Alex as he raked his long blond hair back out of his eyes with his left hand. "I haven't seen you since my almost wedding at the Coldstream Bridge toll house in Scotland."

"And I haven't seen ye since ye almost tortured me to death at that blasted British Fort Craghead," added Hugh.

"Mackenzie, I promised my Uncle Jamie that I would kill you. And I will. Of that ye can be sure," said Major Patrick Ferguson glaring at Alex. Then he pulled a pistol out of his belt, cocked his flintlock, and aimed it at Alex's head. Finally, he pulled the trigger.

Alex was at first frozen when he saw Patrick pull the pistol and take aim at him, but he recovered just in time to duck. The pistol shot went harmlessly over his head. Robert and Hugh immediately pulled pistols from their belts and fired at Major Ferguson point blank. Both shots hit the major squarely in the chest. He died instantly as the musket balls passed through his heart. Several other men, including the Longhunter and Jonas, emptied their pistols into Major Ferguson's body after the fact "just to make sure," according the Longhunter.

* * * *

Epilogue

Without Major Patrick Ferguson to lead them, the Loyalists were overwhelmed by the Overmountain Men and quickly surrendered. The Overmountain Men began to take revenge on the Loyalists, angered by the battle and previous engagements where the Loyalists showed no quarter to the patriots. But the killing was soon curtailed by the Overmountain Men's officers. The offers to surrender were accepted, and the prisoners were secured.

Major Patrick Ferguson's corpse was stripped of his clothes by the Overmountain Men, and then he and Virginia Sal were buried in a shallow grave near the site where his tent was located. His body had a total of eight musket ball holes in it.

Thomas Jefferson called the Battle of Kings Mountain, "The turn of the tide of success" in the Revolutionary War. In his book, The Winning of the West, Theodore Roosevelt wrote of Kings Mountain, "This brilliant victory marked the turning point of the American Revolution."

And it was a turning point; it provided a rallying cry and a boost to the morale of the patriots, who had suffered so many defeats against the British.

After the fighting was over and the prisoners taken care of, the Overmountain Men had ridden back over the Appalachian Mountains to their homes on the frontier. Robert and Hugh had ridden with Alex to his new cabin on Gap Creek that he and his brothers had built after the Raven had burned his first one. They wanted to see him home after the Battle of Kings Mountain and say hello to Martha.

"What are you two going to do now?" asked Alex, standing in his cabin door with his arm around Martha, looking up at Robert and Hugh, who were mounted on their horses.

"Weel now, Robber and I plan t' soak in a hot springs near a sulfur deposit o'er the mountains west o' here," said Hugh.

Robert smiled and nodded.

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END OF BOOK 1

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Author's End Note

I would like to apologize to my readers for portraying Major Ferguson as a less than honorable man of weak character. My depiction of him and any other historical persons and events is fictional. By all accounts and based on his letters, Major Ferguson was an honorable man and a British officer of exceptional character. He was a small, thin, wiry man with an elfin face who was considered to be cultured, heroic, and gallant by all those who have written his biographies. Witty and charming and endearing have also been used to describe him. He was considered to be a genius and inventor without peer in his day.

The Ferguson rifle that he invented was at least fifty to seventy-five years ahead of its time. If the British Army had widely adopted it when they first had the chance, they might have easily won the American Revolution. After a musket ball shattered Major Ferguson's right elbow at the Battle of Brandywine during the American Revolution and his right arm became bent and impaired, he learned to write, shoot, and wield a sword left handed. According to the history books, Major Ferguson did in fact have an opportunity to fire a shot at an American officer's back while on a scouting expedition during the Battle of Brandywine but declined to take the shot because it would insult his honor. He was later told that the American officer that he had in his sights might have been General George Washington. Whether it was or not, Major Ferguson later wrote, "I am not sorry that I did not know all the time who it was."

He would probably never do the most of the things that I ascribe to him in this fictional story and for that, I sincerely apologize to him, his descendants and my British Empire readers and lobster-friendly sympathizers.

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About The Author

Robert Gourley's first published book was a technical college text book that was published in the 1970s by Prentice Hall. This is his first work of fiction and is loosely based on the life of his great, great, great grandfather, Captain Thomas Gourley who was an Overmountain Man and fought several battles in the north and in the south during the Revolutionary War, including the Battle of Kings Mountain.

Robert lives with his wife of over 35 years, Nancy, in Frisco, Texas.

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If you enjoyed reading Kings Pinnacle – A March Hare Novel, Book 1, read on for an exciting preview of the further adventure of Alex Mackenzie and his brothers in the new novel, The Last Reiver – A March Hare Novel, Book 2, available in 2014.

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Sir James

"Let's ride, I want to be at Sir James's estate near Rothbury by noon tomorrow," said the High Sheriff as his men mounted their horses.

And ride they did. They had camped for the night just across the border in England and kept watches on the prisoners during the night to prevent any escape attempts. But the two prisoners were both tightly bound with ropes, so there was no chance for them to escape without some kind of miracle or outside assistance. There was neither help nor miracles. It was raining when they arose and broke camp the next morning. Just before noon, as the sheriff had requested, they rode into the estates of retired General Sir James Murray.

"Sir James, I have your prisoners," said the sheriff after he dismounted and shook hands with Sir James Murray.

"I see that you do, Charles. Did they give you any trouble?"

"No trouble at all; it was the easiest favor I have ever done for you."

"Well I am indeed in your debt anyway, Charles."

"I'll be sure to collect on it at the race track next Sunday."

Sir James and Charles Brandling walked over to the two prisoners, who were sitting on horseback in the light rain with their hands tied behind their backs.

"Pull them down out of the saddle," said the sheriff, and two of the sheriff's men pulled the two men down and threw them to the ground. "They are all yours, Sir James."

"Thank you very much, High Sheriff. Take Mackenzie, Armstrong and his wife and son out to the Royal Oak tree in the pasture and hang them," said Sir James to a group of his groomsmen who were standing nearby.

After he spoke, he took another puff on his long-stemmed pipe.

"Please, sir, ye promised me that me family would live if I helped ye. I held up my end o' the bargain," said Hobbie Armstrong as he sank down to his knees, holding his hands up, pleading as if in prayer.

"That you did, Hobbie. You and they did live while you helped me, but now there is nothing more you can do for me, unless you can think of something. Now you and your family must pay for your crimes. Your daughter will become an indentured servant in my household. There's no use hanging a flower like that before she's been plucked," said Sir James with a leering grin not well hidden by the pipe stem between his teeth.

"You're a liar and a cheat and a dirty rotten bastard. Damn ye to hell."

"I may be all that but you're going to hang anyway, you red-headed idiot."

The English oak tree was named the Royal Oak in 1651 because King Charles II of England hid inside the trunk of a rotted out oak tree after he was defeated by the forces of Oliver Cromwell at the Battle of Worcester. This allowed him to escape the wrath of the Roundheads during the English Civil War. The Royal Oak tree in the pasture behind the manor, near the edge of the forest, was almost twenty feet in circumference and ninety feet tall. It was rumored to be over one thousand years old. Over its life it had seen many events unfold under its branches. But it had yet to see the brand of vigilante justice that was now occurring beneath its spreading boughs.

John Mackenzie and Hobbie Armstrong were marched into the pasture, to the Royal Oak tree where Hobbie's wife Nelly Moss, his fourteen year old son Halbert, who they called Hallie, Hallie's twin sister Ginny, and two much smaller children were waiting for them. Also waiting were also a number of Sir James's men, with four ropes knotted into nooses. They intended to hang John Mackenzie, Hobbie Armstrong, Nelly Moss, and Hallie Armstrong.

The rain had increased to a steady downpour and occasional thunder was heard in the distance as the approaching storm strengthened and moved from the west toward the manor house and the pasture. When Hobbie was led up to his wife and children, they all gather around him and hugged him, crying. The day had gotten progressively darker as the thunderstorm approached the group of people under the  
Royal Oak tree. Hobbie dropped down to his knees and looked up at Nelly.

"Nelly, I did me best, but the old bastard's word is nae good. He's gang t' hang us."

Hobbie's wife, Nelly Moss, was a small wizened-looking woman with her hair plastered to her head by the steady rain. Nelly was actually much younger than she looked, mostly as a result of living a hard, poor life with Hobbie. She was shocked by Hobbie's words. She'd had no inkling that she and almost her entire family were going to die right then and there.

In addition to being Hobbie's wife, Nelly was well renowned as a practitioner of the dark arts all along the border. Her mother had dutifully taught her the skills when she was a young girl, long before she married Hobbie. So she instinctively reached up over her head and snapped off a small limb about twelve inches long from a lower branch of the Royal Oak tree. She quickly stripped most of the bark off it and then ran a few steps away from Hobbie. Nelly leaped upon on a large stone that was lying directly under some of the lower branches of the Royal Oak tree.

Sir James's men bolted to chase her but she turned upon her stone perch and pointed her bare oak wand at them, causing them to stop in their tracks. While staring down at Sir James and his men with a steely gaze, she slowly lifted her oak wand up to touch one of the large boughs of the Royal Oak tree. Then, as the day darkened, she recited an incantation while looking at Sir James.

"O' Mighty Oak of Ages Past,"

"Warder of the Woodlands Vast,"

"As the Light Brings ye Life, o' Tree,"

"Impart thy Power into Me."

As Nelly finished the last word of the incantation, a flashing bolt of lightning stuck the upper branches of the Royal Oak with a tremendous, instantaneous thunder clap. The impact of the lightning bolt stunned all the men standing around and under the tree, causing them to flinch and hunker down or dive to the ground. But the lightning bolt didn't faze Nelly. She stood rock solid still on her rock perch as if she was expecting it. As the lightning charge travelled down the trunk toward the ground, it also travelled out its lowest bough to Nelly's wand. Then, it traveled down the wand into Nelly, electrifying her body and causing her hair to stand on end. Nelly was a fierce sight with her wet hair standing straight away from her head. But since she was standing on a rock and not in direct contact with the ground, the lightning charge stayed in Nelly as if it was waiting to dissipate, since it was insulated from the ground by the rock.

As the men looked up at the oak tree to see if the lightning had caused any damage or set the tree aflame, a glimmer of St. Elmo's fire appeared on the highest branches of the tree. Then the St. Elmo's fire slowly began to work its way down the tree. Soon the entire tree was glowing with the electrical charge of the St. Elmo's fire. The violet glow slowly traveled down the tree to Nelly's bare wand. And finally, it traveled down Nelly's arm, making her entire body glow against the darkened sky as she was consumed by the St. Elmo's fire.

The glowing Nelly completed the incantation with a blank stare.

"Spirits of the Dark in Lightning and Thunder,"

"Let Sir James and All His Kin be Torn Asunder."

As soon as she uttered the last word of the curse, Nelly Moss collapsed to the ground, lying on her back beside the rock she had been standing on. The bare oak wand fell out of her hand onto the ground. It had been blackened by the lightning surge and accompanying St. Elmo's fire. Sir James's men regained their composure and got to their feet. They walked over to surround and look down on Nelly.

"I think we should burn her at the stake rather than hang her," said the visibly shaken Sir James brushing off his clothes.

"That won't be necessary, Sir James, she's already dead," said one the men who was bending over her body.

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