CHAPTER XVII.
THE BATTLE OF CHEMUNG Toward sundown we hailed our bullock guard below the ruins of Old Chemung, and passed forward through the army to the throat of the pass, where the Rifles lay.
The artillery was already in a sorry mess, nine guns stalled and an ammunition wagon overturned in the ford.

And I heard the infantry cursing the drivers and saying that we had lost thousands of cartridges.

Stewart's bullock-guard was in a plight, too, forty head having strayed.
At the outlet to the pass Major Parr met us, cautioning silence.

No fires burned and the woods were very still, so that we could hear in front of us the distant movement of men; and supposed that the enemy had come down to Chemung in force.

But Major Parr told us that our scouts could make nothing of these incessant noises, reporting only a boatload of Sir John Johnson's green-coated soldiers on the river, and a few Indians in two canoes; and that he had no knowledge whether Sir John, the two Butlers, McDonald, and Brant lay truly in front of us, or whether these people were only a mixed scalping party of blue-eyed Indians, Senecas, and other ragamuffin marauders bent on a more distant foray, and now merely lingering along our front over night to spy out what we might be about.
Also, he informed us that a little way ahead, on the Great Warrior trail, lay an Indian town which our scouts reported to be abandoned; and said that he had desired to post our pickets there, but that orders from General Hand had prevented that precaution until the General commanding arrived at the front.
Some few minutes after our appearance in camp, and while we were eating supper, there came a ruddy glimmer of torches from behind us, lighting up the leaves overhead; and Generals Sullivan, Clinton, Hand, and Poor rode up and drew bridle beside Major Parr, listening intently to the ominous sounds in front of us.
And, "What the devil do you make of it, Major ?" says Sullivan, in a low voice.