ik and Daganoweda.
Colonel Johnson, an Irishman by birth, but more of an American than many
of those born on the soil, was the very man to fuse and lead an army of
such varying elements.
Robert now saw Waraiyageh at his best. He soothed the vanity of Governor
Shirley. He endeared himself to the New England officers and their men.
He talked their own languages to the men of German and Dutch blood, and
he continued to wield over the Mohawks an influence that no other white
man ever had. The Mohawk lad, Joseph Brant, the great Thayendanegea of
the future, was nearly always with him, and Tayoga himself was not more
eager for the march.
Now came significant arrivals in the camp, Robert Rogers, the ranger, at
the head of his men, and with him Black Rifle, dark, saturnine and
silent, although Robert noticed that now and then his black eyes flashed
under the thick shade of his long lashes. They brought reports of the
greatest activity among the French and Indians about the northern end of
Andiatarocte, and that Dieskau was advancing in absolute confidence that
he would equal the achievement of Dumas, St. Luc, Ligneris and the
others against Braddock. All about him were the terrible Indian swarms.
Every settler not slain had fled with his people for their lives. Only
the most daring and skillful of the American forest runners could live
in the woods, and the price they paid was perpetual vigilance. Foremost
among the Indian leaders was Tandakora, the huge Ojibway, and he spared
none who fell into his hands. Torture and death were their fate.
The face of Colonel Johnson darkened when Rogers told him the news. "My
poor people!" he groaned. "Why were we compelled to wait so long?" And
by his "people" he meant the Mohawks no less than the whites. The
valiant tribe, and none more valiant ever lived, was threatened with
destruction by the victorious and exultant hordes.
Refugees poured into Albany, bringing tales of destruction and terror.
Albany itself would soon be attacked by Dieskau, with his regulars, his
cannon, his Canadians and his thousands of Indians, and it could not
stand before them. Robert, Tayoga and Willet were with Colonel Johnson,
when Rogers and Black Rifle arrived, and they saw his deep grief and
anger.
"The army will march in a few more days, David, old friend," he said,
"but it must move slowly. One cannot take cannon and wagons through the
unbroken forest, and so I am sending forward two thousand men t
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