Allerton expelled a long drawn-out sigh. “I know when I first came here, the backwoodsman had some concerns, but I have rectified the situation. I hope you see I was right in my assessment of the state of affairs. And I’ll point out there has been no attack by War Chiefs Onontio and Thayendanegea, and there will be none. The Indians are obviously cowed by the military strength we have here.”
“I agree,” said Lieutenant Johnson nodded like a woodpecker ready to strike. Of course, the lieutenant’s concurrence with his superior meant nothing. If Allerton told him the sun would spin and pitch into the earth, Lieutenant Johnson would concur.
Charles Powers leaned indolently in his chair. “Female hysterics will create an unnecessary disturbance, Miss Farrow, promoting worry and a waste of time.”
Bethany patted her lips with her napkin. “Charles is right, Juliet. You mustn’t yield to excitement. It is so unladylike.”
Juliet pinned her glare over every one of them. “There is every justification for Blackberry Valley residents to be fearful. Look what has happened around us this year—destruction at Fort Benkins and Summermute, Cobleskill, Wyoming, Andrustown, Schoharie, the German Flats.”
Charles tapped his finger on the table. “Blackberry Valley might have fallen as well, but with our pleas for troops granted, and the winter period upon us, we are no longer at risk.”
“The danger has not passed,” hissed Juliet.
Charles pulled at his beard and shook his head. “Well now, I wouldn’t say that. Perhaps the danger’s not passed, but it should be concluded for this year, don’t you agree, Colonel Allerton?” He eyeballed the fort commander.
“Of course, of course! I assure you, gentlemen and—ladies, Blackberry Valley can breathe freely. The season is much too advanced for any sort of attack to be launched against us. This is especially true since Onontio’s and Thayendanegea’s bases of operations at Tionnontigo and Onaguaga have been destroyed. As for the next spring—” he shrugged. “That’s another matter.”
Colonel Allerton chuckled and added, “Maybe Onontio and Thayendanegea will die of pneumonia during the winter, now that we’ve burned his wigwam.”
“I am not so heartened,” said Juliet. “You have done nothing to improve the safety of Blackberry Valley. There are little or no improvements to the fort. You have not added more troops. We are at the mercy of Onontio and Thayendanegea if they attack.”
Charles picked up his knife, cut off a piece of steak and swirled it through his egg yolk. “Everyone knows Indians do not attack in the winter. They are hunting to get through the starving period.”
Lieutenant Johnson chuckled. “The Indians don’t like the cold any more than we do. They’d much rather be sitting around warm fires in their longhouses, snuggled beneath their blankets.
“Agreed.” Allerton raised his glass again. “I’ll drink to that!”
“Hear, hear!” said the others, all laughing and they drank, too.
Juliet balled her fists in her skirts. “I have witnessed what horrors Onontio is capable of. Your indolence, arrogance and recklessness will be our deaths.”
Colonel Allerton narrowed his eyes on Juliet. “Rest your pretty head. The savages are the greatest of fools. To initiate a major onslaught in the winter is beyond their stupidity.”
His comment again was met with uproarious laughter.
How they made her feel like an old woman she had seen roaming the streets of Leicestershire, screaming that the rats in her hair told her Judgement Day was upon them. How she itched to tear the rich paintings off the wall, to take the candelabra off the table and bludgeon sense in every one of their skulls. “The greatest fools are often times cleverer than the men who laugh at them. While you continue your journey of hubris, remember to dig your graves.”
* * *
As paralyzing and upsetting as it was to think of another Indian attack, Juliet vowed to be ready. Never again would she be unprepared. She had walked through fire and wasn’t the scared naïve girl anymore. She was stronger, organizing and planning an escape with the logistical deliberation of a general. With Thomas, time was set aside to practice shooting. Guns were cleaned and ammunition readied. Mink oil was smeared on everyone’s boots to make them waterproof. Dried food, extra socks, scarves, a tinder box, candles, a knife, bundles of clothes and quilts were hauled up to the cave with countless trips. Backpacks were sewn with strong straps to carry the loads on their backs for last-minute items.
She worried about Caroline. Heavy with child, could she make the difficult climb to the cave if the need arose? With so many young children to care for, the odds were against them, but Juliet refused to give in to defeat. On guard, she looked out the windows constantly, drilling the children in the eventuality of an attack. She laughed. Oh, yes, they’d leave at the first wind of attack and escape Onontio.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Menacing gray clouds scudded across the sky, spitting stinging snow crystals on Joshua’s face. Over the past two months, fears involving New York and Pennsylvania’s frontiers were growing. From the Indian villages of the upper Susquehanna in the southwest—especially the large village of Oquaga to the upper Mohawk Valley—and of paramount concern lay the principal Indian trail running directly through Blackberry Valley. The few Mohawks remaining at Canajoharie under Chief Steyawa were keeping strictly to themselves and had promised neutrality, but the Indians of the villages southward had not. The news from Fort Niagara alarmed him the most. General Butler and his Rangers along with numerous Senecas, had made their way to the Genesee River, traveling down the Chemung River to Tioga and up the Susquehanna inching closer to Blackberry Valley. Something fearful yielded in every footfall, the hills boiling with greed and violence.
Joshua had traveled to Fort Clinton to meet up with Colonel Putnam and had been ordered to scout north, and then west, careful to stay away from British troops, now that it was confirmed he was a spy. During the two months, he’d written Juliet, regretting his delays and every second he was away from her. He needed news of the east and the south and moved down the valley onto the farm of trusted Patriot and courier, Jacob Smith.
“Scalping parties have been sent out,” said Jacob. “Thayendanegea and Onontio are boasting how Butler and Snapes will unite forces to be in the march to Fort Stephen and Blackberry Valley. John Butler’s father is mustering more Rangers by the beat of the drum.”
Joshua’s muscles went rigid. Why did he waste time in the west? “What else?”
“In Cobleskill, a small party of Iroquois drew the local defenders into a trap, set by a much larger party of Iroquois and Loyalists headed by Thayendanegea. Militia members took cover in a house and Thayendanegea burned it. Twenty-two settlers were killed, eight wounded. The seven captives that were taken had to run the gauntlet, and then were forced to build their own funeral pyre. The savages celebrated as they burned those poor men at the stake. They killed the militia and destroyed the village.”
“Damn!” Joshua spat out.
The courier shook his head. “The massacre at Wyoming was worse. Colonel Butler and his Senecas raided the valley across the border into Pennsylvania. They took five prisoners, burned a thousand homes, taking two hundred and twenty-seven scalps.
