Not a single human being would
have been visible to an ordinary eye there in the moonlight,
which tipped boughs and bushes with ghostly silver. Yet no area
so small ever held a greater store of resolution and deadly
animosity. On one side were the riflemen, nearly every one of
whom had slaughtered kin to mourn, often wives and little
children, and on the other the Tories and Iroquois, about to lose
their country, and swayed by the utmost passions of hate and
revenge.
"Spread out," whispered Henry. "Don't give them a chance to
flank us. You, Sol, take ten men and go to the right, and you,
Heemskerk, take ten and go to the left."
"It is well," whispered Heemskerk. "You have a great head,
Mynheer Henry."
Each promptly obeyed, but the larger number of the riflemen
remained in the center, where Henry knelt, with Paul and Long Jim
on one side of him, and Silent Tom on the other. When he thought
that the two flanking parties had reached the right position, he
uttered a low whistle, and back came two low whistles, signals
that all was ready. Then the line began its slow advance,
creeping forward from tree to tree and from bush to bush. Henry
raised himself up a little, but he could not yet see anything
where the hostile force lay hidden.
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