"Hurrah for the Quakers!" exclaimed Mrs. Avery. "They are right! But, Rachel, it is getting into September, and it is ever so long since we have had any news from the _Noank_."
"Two more prizes came," replied Rachel, "and thy son Vine came back to thee in safety."
"Yes," said his mother, "but it was only to go out with Sam Prentice in that bark, for another privateering trip to the West Indies. I don't care: I'm almost glad Vine isn't with General Schuyler's army and just about to have a battle with Burgoyne."
"It'll be a hard one," said Mrs. Ten Eyck. "They say the British have all the Six Nations with them this time."
"Anneke," said Rachel, "does thee not know the red men? I do. They will dance and shout much, and they will take the king's presents. They will do many murders, for a time, but all the British generals can never turn Indians into soldiers. They may not be depended upon."
Poor General Burgoyne, struggling desperately among the mountains and forests and swamps, was already beginning to understand the really worthless character of his vaunted Indian allies. They were skirmishers and scouts, truly, but they were not trustworthy soldiers. At the same time, their presence in his camps did more than anything else to rally against him the full power of the New York and New England patriots. Many a man whose patriotism had been lukewarm or wavering took down his rifle from its hooks and hurried away to do his best to prevent the threatened great inroad of the Iroquois.
The ports of the Southern states as well as of the Northern were sending out both public and private armed vessels, and the infant navy of the United States was growing rapidly. It was beginning, also, to establish for itself a high character for efficiency and daring. Even when its first adventurous captains could not obtain ships that suited them, they did wonders with old hulks and half-refitted merchantmen. American shipyards were largely increasing their capacities, while American sailors were proving that seamanship and courage were of more importance than mere wood and canvas.
The autumn days that came were bright and beautiful, even along the misty coasts of the British islands. There had been, previously, a succession of severe storms and a host of craft had lingered in harbor, awaiting the arrival of this fine weather. Now it was here, the seas which bordered Britain, France, the Netherlands, and, away northward, the Danish coast, the North Sea, and the Baltic, seemed to swarm with sails. These were all too numerous for one craft more to attract especial attention.