Caleb grabbed his boots and ran for the safety of the woods. As he darted toward the shelter of the trees, he heard the sound of feet headed toward the ship and away from his hiding place. He breathed a sigh of relief and murmured thanks for his escape. Glad that Brighton and his men had gotten away with the ammunition, he still worried how to find them again. He recalled the plans to meet at the bridge, but had depended on Brighton to know the directions.
Making his way to the main road, he saw signs of recent hoof prints. He set out on foot to follow them, and hoped the prints led to General Marion’s group.
As he trudged along, Caleb wondered if fate meant for him to spend the war looking for his regiment. He wanted to do more for his country.
Behind him, he heard shouting and guessed the sailors must have discovered the ammunition theft. Caleb smiled to himself. “I suppose that’s what’s called the spoils of war,” he murmured.
Growing weary, Caleb sat on a stone by the side of the road. The moon slid behind a cloud and he could see nothing, not even the horse tracks that might lead him to the brigade.
At last he rose and continued walking as he peered into the dark for any sign to indicate the direction of the bridge.
Almost out of nowhere he heard the sound of hooves. It’s only one horse, he decided. Would the Red Coats send just one man to look for a group who stole ammunition?
With no trees to protect him now, he stood beside an open field. No hiding place offered itself when the clouds moved away from the moon. He stood alone, a perfect target. Frozen in his tracks, he stood completely at the mercy of the oncoming horseman.
He could see the rider now, a slight figure, not in uniform. Whoever it was handled the horse like an expert.
When the horse approached, it slowed and a breathless voice addressed him. “Hop on. I’ve been looking for you.”
Caleb obeyed, pulling himself up. He held on tightly as they rode away at top speed. A hat pulled low hid the rider’s face. No words passed between them as Caleb’s hand gripped the back of a rough coat. The horse and its passengers flew through the moonlit night. Suddenly, an errant gust of wind grabbed his savior’s hat and tossed it in the air. A cascade of blond silky hair tumbled into Caleb’s face causing him to gasp. He knew now who rescued him.
NINE
“Elizabeth! How did you get here?” The wind tore the words from Caleb’s throat. Surprise made him forget to address her properly.
“I’ve followed you since you reached the docks, but I lost you after you went aboard the ship. When the others left, I hoped you’d get on this road. I took a chance and came after you.” The words were tossed over her shoulder as they rode.
“But how did you know I might be here?”
“I’ll tell you when we stop. For now, please keep quiet and let me get you to the bridge.”
Caleb fell silent. Questions swirled in his mind. How could Elizabeth even know his whereabouts? And what brought her to these dangerous roads alone? Did her family know she rode around the countryside dressed like a boy? She had to be the most infuriating girl he’d ever known.
No more than ten minutes passed before Elizabeth pulled back on the reins. “Here’s where we part, Private Fields. The Old Dominion Bridge lies a short walk to the west. You can’t miss it. You’ll find General Marion and the rest of his men there. Good luck.”
“Wait! You can’t leave without telling me how you knew where to find me,” Caleb demanded.
“Oh, all right.” The girl slid nimbly down from her horse. “I’m sure you’ve heard of General Marion’s spies, have you not? My father happens to be one of them. Before you ever left our home, a message was sent to the general. His men were told to watch for you and keep you away from Charleston. It was too dangerous and our family owed you for your aid to Seth.”
“I would never have guessed about your father being a spy.”
“That’s why he’s a good one,” Elizabeth said dryly. “I’ll also wager that you were given a good story about your capture.”
Nodding, Caleb persisted. “But how did you know about the bridge and all the rest?”
“Because I listen at keyholes and closed doors. Sometimes a window stands open to the gallery.”
Caleb couldn’t help admiring this brave girl, while thinking how foolhardy her actions seemed.
“Then you heard tonight’s plans being discussed?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m here. I hid in the forest until you came from the swamp. When you split up, I followed the group you left with. When you got to the harbor, I took shelter behind the smith’s shop until I saw you safely out. I didn’t know for a time what might happen when you went aboard the Royal George.”
“Neither did I,” Caleb said truthfully.
“I waited until I saw you run for the trees, but then the men came from the pub and I had to wait again until they went aboard. I guessed you had followed the tracks, so I rode this way after going the opposite direction for a little while. That was to leave prints to fool the British. They won’t find this road too easily, but tell the others not to linger.”
“Well, that’s quite a story. I am much obliged to you, but surely your family will worry when they find you missing.”
“They won’t. Seth knows I’m here and he’ll keep them busy if they wake. Besides, I’ll reach home before sunup.”
“Seth really knows you’re here?”
“Yes.” Elizabeth’s teeth flashed in the moonlight as she grinned. “He even suggested I wear his clothes. Do you think me scandalous?”
Caleb could only shake his head.
“I’m off now. Be safe, Caleb Fields. We’ll meet again.” With that, Elizabeth swung astride her horse and headed home. Her hair streamed like a banner in the moonlight.
Caleb stood for several minutes staring after this remarkable girl. Then he turned and walked in the direction she had indicated, searching for signs of Marion’s Brigade. He walked quietly, hoping not to encounter any Red Coats. He wished the same for Elizabeth.
Suddenly, he saw a glow ahead and stopped for a moment. He crept close and saw the light came from a lantern. The shadows of men crossed back and forth. They seemed busy at some task he couldn’t see. Taking in the scene, he looked up and saw the outline of a bridge overhead. Old Dominion. He had found it. He listened to the lapping of the river as it touched the banks.
When he spotted Brighton, Caleb made his presence known.
“Well, look who’s here. We’ve waited for you, lad.”
“I might have arrived sooner had I had the use of my horse,” Caleb retorted.
“We’re sorry we had to take Victory. By the time we loaded the wagon, we couldn’t make room for Miller and old Tom both, so Miller got to ride that fine beast of yours. But you’re here now and that’s all that matters, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” Caleb muttered, none too happy.
“Glad to have you back, private.”
Caleb looked around to see who had spoken. The voice belonged to General Marion. “Private Fields, you’re just in time. How about lending a hand to give the king’s men a surprise? You may consider it a payback for what I understand Mr. Brighton’s men did to you at the harbor.” The general tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile.
“I’d like that very much, sir.”
“Then come with me.” He turned to the others. “Take cover, men, but watch for any stray Red Coats. They’re probably pretty upset by now to find some of their ammunition missing, so let’s give a bit of it back to them.”
The men nodded and positioned themselves behind an embankment.
The general went swiftly to the edge of the bridge with Caleb in his wake. “Look up and to your left, lad. Do you see the outcroppings under the bridge?”
“Yes, sir.” Caleb peered into the darkness.
“The men have set out boxes of explosives up there. I want you to climb up, find the boxes and pour a line of gunpowder from there to where I stand here. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir,” Caleb answered, eager to thwart the enemy in any way he could.
“Over this bridge lies the main passage north that the British use for carrying ammunition to their troops. With it gone, they have a two or three day delay. By then, we’ll have warned our troops of the Red Coats’ plans. We’ll have the advantage of a shorter route they are unaware of. When they do arrive to join their group, we’ll give them a big welcome.”
Caleb’s chest puffed out. Eager to perform his duty, he hung the bag of gunpowder around his neck and climbed to the outcropping. He stood for a moment waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
When he reached the point where the bridge joined the land, he dropped to his knees and searched the ground. When he found the first box, the rest were easy. The soldiers had placed them the same distance apart from the next in line. Reaching into the bag, he carefully let the gunpowder trickle through his fingers like sand, making a line from each box. He walked back to where the general waited, then repeated his actions until all boxes had a stream of gunpowder that ran from them.
General Marion took some flint and rubbed it briskly against a piece of metal like those carried by most soldiers. Shortly, a spark appeared. The general knelt close to the gunpowder on the ground and continued to strike the metal until a flame ignited. He touched each line of powder until all the lines were aflame. The two stood for a moment and watched the fire snake up the lines that headed for the boxes of ammunition.
“Run, lad!”
Both scrambled for the embankment, with Caleb just behind the general. Suddenly, he fell to the ground, his boot heel caught in a root. He cried out and the Swamp Fox turned.
Caleb saw the fire reflected in the general’s eyes.
“Go on, sir, get to the embankment. My boot’s caught.”
Ignoring Caleb’s words, Francis Marion stooped and tugged at the boot, all the while watching the fire speed toward the gunpowder. The boot held fast. Finally, the general pulled Caleb’s foot from the boot and the two hurried across the embankment and crouched down with the others.
The boxes exploded, lighting up the sky like noon. Ashes rained down, covering everyone. Then, all was still. The acrid odor of gunpowder filled the air while little puffs of smoke rose from the burned planks that remained. They hung, as if suspended by invisible cords, then shivered and collapsed into the river as the last puff of smoke vanished into the night air.
The Swamp Fox broke the silence, “All right, men, it’s done. We’ll strike out for the Lion’s Head Inn. My friend, the innkeeper, will put us up for the night.” A grim smile showed at the general’s lips. “I’d like to stay around and see the faces of the enemy when they find we’ve destroyed their supply route, but we’ll meet them soon enough.”
Retrieving his boot, Caleb sat astride Victory and glanced at the devastation. A thought struck him.
Someday, I may have a son and I will tell him about this night and the small part his father had in helping to save his country.
* * * *
A ride through dark roads brought the group to sanctuary. The innkeeper, a colonist, provided a meal and beds for the weary men. Fed and warm, Caleb stumbled up the stairs to the sleeping loft. Almost asleep before his head touched the pillow, Caleb bolted up when he heard the general’s voice call. “Private Fields, will you please come down?”
When Caleb arrived, he stood before the general and the innkeeper. He looked from one to the other, not sure why his presence was needed.
“Fields, Mr. Barlow here has given me some bad news. I think it is of interest to you.” Nodding to his host, the general waited while the innkeeper related his story once more.
“A soldier passed through here last night who counted himself fortunate. Seems the madman, Tarleton, came down this way. He and his men captured some of our army. The lad narrowly escaped.”
“Did he give any names, sir?”
“Yes. Those captured included a Major Hunt of the 16
th
Regiment and a few of his men. The young sergeant said they now sit in the jail in Charleston. I hear the jail is one of the few buildings left standing. I also hear dreadful things about Lt. Colonel Banastre Tarleton. He’s one of the worst. His enemies call him Bloody Ban.”
General Marion looked grim at the mention of Tarleton. “I know the man, Mr. Barlow.”
The general took up the story. “Private, I recall you told me you had signed on with Major Hunt at the request sent by your superior officer.” Clearing his throat, the general spoke quietly. “I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“One more thing,” Mr. Barlow concluded. “The young soldier said Tarleton had dined at many of the finest residences in Charleston, and then put the torch to the very homes that had welcomed him.” Barlow shook his head as he related this sad news.
Caleb, sick at heart, climbed the stairs again. When at last he blew out the candle and laid his head on the feather pillow, he drifted into a fitful sleep. His dreams laid bare his anxiety over the fate of Major Hunt and his men.
TEN
Before dawn, the general roused the sleeping men. After a quick breakfast they took their leave, thanking the innkeeper for his hospitality.
By noon, Caleb thought the landscape they rode through looked familiar. He soon realized they traveled close to the Larkin home. It seemed much longer than three weeks since he had left there. Much had happened since then.
As they rode along, Caleb overheard the general and Mr. Brighton discussing their plans. “I’m anxious to catch up with Tarleton. I have a score to settle with him.”
“I know, General Marion, and you can count on us.”
Dropping back, the general spoke to Caleb. “Private Fields, I recall you telling me that you escorted young Larkin home when he was injured. Am I correct?”
“Yes, sir. Major Hunt asked that I accompany Corporal Larkin.”
“Then I have another job for you. In a few miles, we’ll reach the crossroads. I plan to take the rest of the men and ride on to meet our troops in the north. I must let our army know the Red Coats will arrive soon, and the ammunition we have left from the bridge has to be delivered.”