Chapter 9

The three who had escaped ran, for a quarter of a mile, in the woods, when
we brought up, and took a drink. Hearing no more firing, or any further
alarm, we now consulted as to our future course. There were some mills at
the head of the bay, about four miles from the guard-house, and I led the
party thither. We reached the place towards morning, and found a berth in
them before any one was stirring. We hid ourselves in an old granary; but
no person appeared near the place throughout the next day. We had put a
little bread and a few herrings in our hats, and on these we subsisted.
The rum cheered us up, and, if rum ever did good, I think it was to us on
that occasion. We slept soundly, with one man on the look-out; a rule we
observed the whole time we were out. It stopped raining in the course of
the day, though the weather was bitter cold.

Next night we got under way, and walked in a direction which led us within
three miles of the town. In doing this, we passed the Prince's Lodge, a
place where I had often been, and the sight of which reminded me of home,
and of my childish days. There was no use in regrets, however, and we
pushed ahead. The men saw my melancholy, and they questioned me; but I
evaded the answer, pretending that nothing ailed me. There was a tavern
about a league from the town, kept by a man of the name of Grant, and
Littlefield ventured into it. He bought a small cheese and a loaf of
bread; getting off clear, though not unsuspected. This helped us along
famously, and we pushed on as fast as we could. Before morning we came
near a bridge, on which there was a sentinel posted, with a guard-house
near its end. To avoid this danger, we turned the guard-house, striking
the river above the bridge. Here we met two Indians, and fell into
discourse with them. Our rum now served us a better turn than ever, buying
the Indians in a minute. We told these chaps we were deserters from the
Bulwark, 74, and begged them to help us along. At first, they thought we
were Yankees, whom they evidently disliked, and that right heartily; but
the story of the desertion took, and made them disposed to serve us.

These two Indians led us down to the bed of the river, and actually
carried us beneath the bridge, on the side of the river next the guard,
where we found a party of about thirty of these red-skins, men, women and
children. Here we stayed no less than three days; faring extremely well,
having fish, bread, butter, and other common food. The weather was very
bad, and we did not like to turn out in it, besides, thinking the search
for us might be less keen after a short delay. All this time, we were
within a few rods of the guard, hearing the sentinels cry "all's well,"
from half-hour to half-hour. We were