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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Scouts of the Valley"

It was easy enough to follow it. They
beheld a dead warrior at every step, and at intervals were
rifles, tomahawks, scalping knives, blankets, and an occasional
shot pouch or powder horn. Presently they reached the main army,
which was going into camp for the night. Many camp fires were
built, and the soldiers, happy in their victory, were getting
ready for supper. But there was no disorder. They had been told
already that they were to march again in the morning.
Henry, Paul, Tom, Jim, and Shif'less Sol went back over the field
of battle, where many of the dead still lay. Twilight was now
coming, and it was a somber sight. The earthwork, the thickets,
and the trees were torn by cannon balls. Some tents raised by
the Tories lay in ruins, and the earth was stained with many dark
splotches. But the army had passed on, and it was silent and
desolate where so many men had fought. The twilight drew swiftly
on to night, and out of the forest came grewsome sounds. The
wolves, thick now in a region which the Iroquois had done so much
to turn into a wilderness, were learning welcome news, and they
were telling it to one another. By and by, as the night
deepened, the five saw fiery eyes in the thickets, and the long
howls came again.


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