We were advancing in full expectation of a hearty welcome, when a bullet whistled past the captain's ear.
"Can the Redskins have captured the fort?" he exclaimed, ordering a halt.
"It looks like it," observed my father. "We had better ascertain how matters stand before we go nearer. We are not prepared to assault the place if the enemy hold it in force. But if you will follow the advice of an old soldier, we will beat a retreat before we lose any of our number. I will go forward with a flag of truce. I don't know whether the Indians will respect it; but if I see anything suspicious, I will be careful not to allow them to take a steady aim at me."
On hearing this, I begged my father to allow me to go instead, but this he refused. Tim then offered to go, but my father firmly persisted in keeping to his resolution.
Mounting one of the horses, which had hitherto been led in the rear to keep them fresh for necessary work, he fastened a flag at the end of a ramrod, and, while we halted, rode rapidly forwards, waving it over his head in a way which would distract the aim of any one firing at him.
I anxiously watched his progress, expecting to see him wheel round and gallop back to us; but presently, to our great satisfaction, the gate of the fort opened, and an officer, followed by several men, came out.
"It's all right," cried Captain Norton, giving the word to advance, and in a few minutes we were shaking hands with the commandant of the fort. On the captain asking why we had been fired at, he was told that the musket had been discharged by one of the sentries--of course, an Irishman!--who had mistaken us for a band of Red Indians.
"I am glad my worthy countryman was not a better shot," said my father, "or one of the best officers in the service would have been lost to his country."
"We have no best officers among us; we are all excellent," observed Captain Norton, laughing; "and I hope our friend Pat won't be punished for being a bad shot."
The commandant had a sad account to give us. A few days before, the general commanding the forces in Florida, with several officers, had been incautiously dining at the settlement we had just passed. Not an enemy was supposed to be in the neighbourhood. The evening had been spent pleasantly, and the guests were preparing to retire to their homes, either in the settlement or in the fort, when a loud war-whoop was heard, and a shower of bullets came rattling into their midst. Nearly the whole were shot down at once. Two or three managed to escape to the fort, aided by the darkness of night; but the Indians, springing on the remainder of the survivors, struck them to the ground, and carried off their scalps. The garrison had been afraid to fire for fear of wounding friends as well as foes. The Indians did not lose a man.