Posted by Seamus on March 30, 2001 at 19:37:58:
In Reply to: Re: Davey's Ramblings...A Plan is Laid...... posted by Uncle Dave on March 30, 2001 at 16:35:04:
March ye 30th, 1759
Outside the Boar and Bull Tavern,
Raestown
So far things had gone according to Seamus’s plan. By a stroke of good fortune, Major Grant was left alone at his table for a few moments when his companions Captain Croy and Lieutenant Campbell went to the necessary house. Three Tales and Seamus took the opportunity to discuss the coins and the location of the haversack inside the hollow tree, making sure the Major knew Seamus would be leaving shortly after daylight to return to Ft. Augusta. Everyone knew the Captain and Lieutenant were beyond reproach, but now, for certain, there would be no one else who knew about the haversack!
Seamus excused himself, saying he wanted to turn in early, since he had consumed more libation than he really needed to, and Tales arose to help steady him and get him to his blanket in the hay shed at the stockade. They approached the guard at the gate, the password and parole were spoken, and they entered, going directly to the hay shed, Tales supporting the now-singing Seamus.
The haversack was retrieved, blankets arranged as though someone was laying there covered up and the boys cautiously made their way to the low spot where a drainage ditch went under the rear stockade wall next to the blacksmith shop. With a quick look around, and seeing no one, they quickly dropped and crawled under the wall...and out into the night.
As they started toward the ravine, Seamus said, “Cousin! We need to put something in the haversack to give it weight and substance; otherwise this will not work!” Glancing around in the moonlit darkness, he spied something on the ground. “Here! This is perfect!” he said chuckling. “There will be no mistaking it now! Haha!” He and Tales, laughing between themselves stooped and loaded the haversack, sliding the “load” into it with a stick, and then headed to the hollow tree.
The haversack was placed inside the hollow tree and the boys went to the blinds they had constructed earlier and crawled inside and began their vigil. It was near 9:30 in the evening.
It was quite dark now. Passing clouds had covered the earlier moon and a slight breeze had arisen.... an ominous weather sign. The temperature dropped as the front passed through, and the clouds thickened, making it rather uncomfortable to be lying in the blinds on the ground.... waiting. Their wait, however, would not be a long one.
Within half an hour since they had baited the trap, a lone figure slowly and very quietly made its way past Tales and his hideout. Giving the figure time to get well past, Tales then gave the call of the Great Horned Owl...twice...and Seamus smiled, knowing it would soon be over. Soon Seamus heard footfalls in the forest floor litter, and in the darkness could barely make out a figure next to the hollow tree. The figure stood there a few moments, then stooped and reached into the tree. Instantly it stood, and reached inside the haversack.
Within a few seconds, he gave out a disgusting cry, threw down the haversack and turned and started back the path...much quicker now than before.... and uttering the most awful foul oaths and curses one can imagine. Tales was already standing on the path and was waiting, rifle at the ready. Seamus was out of his hiding place and moving down the path toward Tales, tomahawk in one hand, his rifle in the other, and their quarry between them, making horrible retching noises and screaming curses, and trailing a disgusting odor that Seamus had no trouble following in the darkness.
Tales, upon hearing and seeing the quarry approach, leveled his rifle at the suspect, cocked it, and ordered him to stop “in the name of the King!” The culprit stopped, turned and started back the path...and ran full into Seamus’s tomahawk, which caught him full across the side of the head with the flat side, knocking him square onto the ground, senseless. “ Good Heavens, Seamus! I hope you haven’t killed him!” cried Tales. “Just a love tap, Cousin, just a love tap...” replied Seamus. “Let’s get him to the fort. Be careful...don’t touch his hands. My God! He really stinks!!” Laughing, the boys each hooked an arm and dragged the limp form toward the gate of the stockade.