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SgtMunro
Soldier of the King
USA
Bumppo's Patron since [at least]:
September 23 2002
Status: offline
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 Posted - December 08 2004 : 10:39:47 PM
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“MacMillan’s Gambit” (Part Two)
Near Garretts Run, The Ohio Country
16 May 1764 / 0415 Hours
Ensign Fergus MacMillan was sleeping seated, with his back against a large tree, when something caused him to awaken. It was not a noise that disturbed his slumber, but rather the lack of it. The usual late-spring chatter of the local fauna was not to be heard, a deafening quiet had replaced it. Adjusting the blanket around his shoulders, MacMillan pulled his fusil in closer and rested his thumb on the cock. He strained to listen, while his eyes scanned the woods shrouded in the inky blackness of a New Moon.
ARRRRGGHH-ROOOARRR-AHHH!!!
ARRRRGGHH-ROOOARRR-AHHH!!!
The deafening scream was like nothing Fergus had ever heard before. The sound penetrated his skin and chilled his soul. Loud stomping and breaking of tree limbs nearby, punctuated the screams and howls. MacMillan jumped to his feet, and cocked his fusil. Snapping the weapon up to his shoulder, he then started to sweep left to right, but nothing was to be seen. The chilling howls stopped as suddenly as they had begun, and within minutes the normal sounds of the woods returned.
MacMillan remained still for a few more moments, before deciding that whatever had made that unearthly sound had departed. Daylight was still a couple of hours away, and Fergus did not feel like going back to sleep. He only waited for the light…
…Just before noontime, at Fort Venango:
The small express canoe ground ashore, just before French Creek empties into the Allegheny River. Francis Cooper jumped from the gunwale, and dragged the bow up onto shore. Thomas Thacher exited the canoe, and secured the mooring line to a nearby tree. Both men retrieved their packs and walked up to the remains of Fort Venango.
Pointing to a large tree, Thacher noted, “There is where we found Lieutenant Gordon of the Royal Americans, sir. He was tied to that tree, with a letter of confession attached to him. He was the post commandant, and the last one to die.”
Looking around, Cooper said, “I remember your report Thomas, reading about it was one thing, but to see where it happened… This is truly a place of great sorrow.”
“Yes sir.”
Cooper and Thacher then walked onto what was once the fort’s parade ground. Thacher motioned with his hand toward a large mound, “There is where we buried the victims.”
Cooper could see that his friend was reliving the whole event. Placing his hand on Thacher’s shoulder, Cooper said, “Come Thomas, let us say a prayer for the departed.”
After both men finished praying, Thacher started to walk back toward the canoe, while saying, “I’ll get the rest of our equipage, sir.”
“Thomas,” Cooper called out, “If you like, we could always find another place, further down the Allegheny…”
“Given the current situation, this is the most defensible spot, sir.”
Cooper let the whole subject drop, he was well aware that one of the men that Thacher had buried on that November day was Private Henry Goodshall, of the 60th Royal Americans Regiment, a childhood friend.
…Meanwhile, along the Allegheny River near Cowanshannock Creek:
Ensign Macmillan was following a fresh set of tracks. Noticing that a small amount of water in the track’s depression was still muddy, MacMillan thought, “No more than an hour old, I am getting close.”
MacMillan continued to follow the tracks, until a very pungent odor filled his nostrils. He stopped and listened, certain that he heard leaves rustling to his left, toward the river. Moving as quietly as he could, Fergus noticed that the rustling sound was replaced by a gentle splashing.
As he made his way toward an opening in the foliage, he could hear the sound of the river. What he had seen was a large bear-like creature, with thick black and brown fur. Looking at the beast hunched over, drinking from the river, Fergus raised his fusil and slowly cocked hi
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Serjeant-Major Duncan Munro
Capt. Thos. Graham's Coy.
42nd Royal Highland Regiment of Foote
(The Black Sheep of the Black Watch)
"Nemo Me Impune Lacessit"
-Or-
"Recruit locally, fight globally." |
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MacMillan's Gambit (Part-2) - 16 May 1764
