The Bully Boys by Eric Walters Read Free Book Online

and camped closer to the river so we could leave the following night. I felt scared—not that something was going to happen to me, but about not being able to find the trail. It had been four years since that summer, and trails can disappear quickly if they’re not used. Besides, I’d only been out on the trails during the day, and we’d be travelling by night. It would be awful if they trusted me to lead them and I couldn’t. They would all think I had been full of bluster. Like my Pa always said, an empty barrel makes the loudest sound. The lump in my stomach got bigger.
    â€œFeeling nervous?” FitzGibbon asked me.
    â€œSome.”
    â€œIt’s not too late to change your mind. You can remain with the boats.”
    â€œYou need me to find the trail.”
    â€œWe’ll find the trail with or without you,” he said.
    â€œBut . . .” It suddenly dawned on me. “You don’t want me to be here, do you?”
    He didn’t say anything for a moment.
    â€œIt’s true. I’d rather you had stayed at the DeCew farm,” he said then. “But you know the terrain, and that knowledge might save the lives of my men and those of William Merritt.”
    Before I could respond the boat ran against something and I was rocked forward. I stood up and saw that we’d hit rocks just off the shore. Some of the men pulled their oars out of the water and used them as poles to push off the rocks. Then one man, holding a rope, jumped into the waist-deepwater and waded to shore. Two others jumped in after him, followed by FitzGibbon. The boat was pushed and pulled forward then until it was safely beached. Wordlessly, the rest of the men got out of the boat. Each held his gun, powder and shot high above his head. If water got to any of those, then the muskets would be useless.
    I climbed out and into the water. A shiver went up my spine that had more to do with fear than the coldness of the water. I couldn’t help but think of FitzGibbon’s offer. Maybe I should stay by the boats. Then I thought about all the other times I’d crossed this river before. Always during the day, and always with my Pa at my side. I wondered where he was now. All I knew for sure was that wherever he was, he was doing his part to defeat the Americans, and I had to do my part too. I’d lead them to the trails.
    â€œDo you know where we are, Tommy?” FitzGibbon asked.
    â€œI think so. We came in a bit father down river than I thought we should. We’ll have to backtrack along the shore . . . maybe half a mile.”
    â€œMcNab, Jamison and Johnson are to stay with the boat. Alexander, I want you to take a party of two and go downstream to locate the other boats. Lead them back this way. We’ll be at the top of the heights waiting,” FitzGibbon said.
    I looked out over the water and didn’t see anything. I remembered what I’d heard about the current being strong.
    â€œAll others come with me.”
    I took to FitzGibbon’s side and together we started to lead.
    During the time it took us to cross the river the moon had risen higher in the sky. It threw off a little more light, which allowed me to recognized our location. A flat strip of land was wedged between the water and the cliff. There were very few trees or even bushes. That made the trip easy; of course, it also meant no cover to hide behind. I could picture unseen eyes peering down at us as we moved. I was pleased, at least, that the mist was spilling over the river and onto the flats.
    â€œThe path isn’t far from here,” I said after we’d walked for awhile. “It branches off the road that runs along the top.”
    â€œGood. Tommy, I want you to head back to the—”
    â€œI thought I was going as far as the path?”
    FitzGibbon paused. In the dark I couldn’t read his expression.
    â€œLast two in line stay here and direct the coming parties to follow