It was good news, but not
conclusive. Everything depended now on MacDonough. In the morning
all available troops should hurry to the defence of Plattsburg;
not less than fifteen hundred men were ready to embark at daylight.
That night Rolf slept with Skookum in the barracks. At daybreak,
much to the latter's disgust, he was locked up in a cellar, and
the troops embarked for the front.
It was a brisk north wind they had to face in crossing and
passing down the lake. There were many sturdy oarsmen at the
sweeps, but they could not hope to reach their goal in less than
five hours.
When they were half way over, they heard the cannon roar; the
booming became incessant; without question, a great naval battle
was on, for this north wind was what the British had been
awaiting. The rowers bent to their task and added to the speed.
Their brothers were hard pressed; they knew it, they must make
haste. The long boats flew. In an hour they could see the masts,
the sails, the smoke of the battle, but nothing gather of the
portentous result. Albany and New York, as well as Plattsburg,
were in the balance, and the oarsmen rowed and rowed and rowed.
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