“I’ll tell the Great Father that you’re a born bush man.  Mebbe he’ll let ye go.  They’ll need us both.  Rum, Injuns an’ the devil have j’ined hands.  The Long House will be the center o’ hell an’ its line fences ’ll take in the hull big bush.”

That day Jack’s name was included in the order.

“I am sorry that it is not yet possible to pay you or any of the men who have served me so faithfully,” said Washington.  “If you need money I shall be glad to lend you a sum to help you through this journey.”

“I ain’t fightin’ fer pay,” Solomon answered.  “I’ll hoe an’ dig, an’ cook, an’ guide fer money.  But I won’t fight no more fer money—­partly ’cause I don’t need it—­partly ‘cause I’m fightin’ fer myself.  I got a little left in my britches pocket, but if I hadn’t, my ol’ Marier wouldn’t let me go hungry.”

2

In April the two friends set out afoot for the lower end of the Highlands.  On the river they hired a Dutch farmer to take them on to Albany in his sloop.  After two delightful days at home, General Schuyler suggested that they could do a great service by traversing the wilderness to the valley of the great river of the north, as far as possible toward Swegachie, and reporting their observations to Crown Point or Fort Edward, if there seemed to be occasion for it, and if not, they were to proceed to General Herkimer’s camp at Oriskany and give him what help they could in protecting the settlers in the west.

“You would need to take all your wit and courage with you,” the General warned them.  “The Indians are in bad temper.  They have taken to roasting their prisoners at the stake and eating their flesh.  This is a hazardous undertaking.  Therefore, I give you a suggestion and not an order.”

“I’ll go ’lone,” said Solomon.  “If I get et up it needn’t break nobody’s heart.  Let Jack go to one o’ the forts.”

“No, I’d rather go into the bush with you,” said Jack.  “We’re both needed there.  If necessary we could separate and carry our warning in two directions.  We’ll take a couple of the new double-barreled rifles and four pistols.  If we had to, I think we could fight a hole through any trouble we are likely to have.”

So it was decided that they should go together on this scouting trip into the north bush.  Solomon had long before that invented what he called “a lightnin’ thrower” for close fighting with Indians, to be used if one were hard pressed and outnumbered and likely to have his scalp taken.  This odd contrivance he had never had occasion to use.  It was a thin, round shell of cast iron with a tube, a flint and plunger.  The shell was of about the size of a large apple.  It was to be filled with missiles and gunpowder.  The plunger, with its spring, was set vertically above the tube.  In throwing this contrivance one released its spring by the pressure of his thumb.  The hammer fell and the spark it made ignited a fuse leading down to the powder.  Its owner had to throw it from behind a tree or have a share in the peril it was sure to create.