General Greene had a council with his officers, and with the settlers of Peaceful Valley, and mapped out a plan of campaign against the Indians.

He decided to send out three forces of one hundred each, and have them go to the south, and west, and look for the bands of marauding redskins.

“We must put a stop to such work as has been going on here,” he said. “Here in Peaceful Valley all the homes of the settlers have been burned to the ground, and the Indians will be doing the same at other points, unless they are prevented, and the only way to prevent them is to give them such a rough handling that they will be glad to retire to their villages and be peaceful and quiet.”

The other officers and the settlers agreed with him, and General Greene named three officers to take charge of the three parties of soldiers, Captain Morgan being one of the officers named, and he would, of course, take his company.

“I wish that I had the Dare Boys here, to go with me,” he said. “I always feel that I can get good reconnoitering work done if Dick Dare is with me. But, it is not likely that he will be back in time to go with my company.”

“Likely not,” said General Greene, “but if he should come soon after you leave, I will send him after you, if you wish.”

The three officers after making preparations took their departure, with their companies, and went in diverging directions, so as to cover as large a territory as possible.

The company with Captain Morgan made its way slowly westward, keeping a sharp lookout ahead, and to the right and the left, looking eagerly for signs of Indians, but evening came and they had not succeeded. They were then about twelve miles from Peaceful Valley, and they went into camp on the bank of a creek, in the midst of the woods.

Sentinels were stationed, for there was danger of an attack in the night, and the soldiers proceeded to cook and eat their suppers, they having brought sufficient provisions to last them several days.

Among the soldiers of this company were Tim Murphy, a jolly, good-hearted Irishman and Fritz Schmockenburg, a Dutchman, and they were great friends, though they quarreled good-naturedly a fair portion of the time. They were great friends of the Dare Boys, too, and were never so happy when Dick and Tom were not with the company.

“How you vos lige dis Injun fighdin’, Tim?” asked Fritz, as they sat beside each other on a log, eating their supper.

“Foine,” was the reply. “It is more excitin’ than foightin’ ridcoats, Dootchy. Don’t ye think so, yersilf?”

“Yah, I lige id firsd rate. But they are ugliness to loog at, und dot is so.”

“The only t’ing Oi don’t loike about it, Fritz,” said Tim, with a sly wink at some of his comrades nearby, “is thot av the ridskins catch ye, they’ll scalp ye, an’ then they’ll tie ye up to a stake an’ burn ye, sure an’ they will.”

Fritz looked worried. “Dot vould not be pleasantness, alretty,” he said.

“Oi should say not, Dootchy. Take care thot they don’t capture ye, Fritz.”

“I vill loog ouid dot dey don’t catch me, Tim Murphies.”

“You had betther, me bye.”

An hour or two after supper Fritz was sent to do sentinel duty, and he took his station about one hundred yards from camp, and stood, musket in hand, trying to peer into the darkness that encompassed him about.

Fritz was not a coward by any means, but he was always a bit fearful of being slipped up on by an enemy in the darkness, and so he stood there, looking eagerly around, and listening intently.

He heard occasional sounds, such as are usually to be heard in the timber at night, and at each sound he would grip his musket tightly, and face in the direction the sound came from, ready to fire if an enemy appeared.

After a while, however, he became somewhat used to the noises, and did not start or show signs of nervousness. Still, he was not very well pleased with the work of standing sentinel.

“I haf heard dot der retskins are so slyness dot dey gan slip up close midout anybody hearin’ dem,” Fritz muttered. “I vouldn’t lige to haf dem slip up on me, dot vay.”

Slowly the time passed, and Fritz was standing leaning against a tree, after a while, resting his hands on the muzzle of his musket.

He had been standing this way perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, when suddenly he heard a terrible racket in front of him. It startled Fritz, who thought that of course the noise was made by Indians, and he leveled his musket and fired a shot as quickly as possible, and then ran toward the encampment, yelling loudly:

“Injuns! Der Injuns are comin’!”

He did not stop till he was within the encampment, and the soldiers were up, muskets in hand, and many asked eagerly where the Indians were.

“Dey’re comin’ bretty quickness!” cried Fritz. “I shot some uf dem, und der rest vill be here quick, alretty. Be ready to shoot dem!”

The soldiers stood there, peering into the depths of the forest, but could not see any signs of Indians; nor was there any sound to indicate the presence of redskins.

“What kind of a noise did you hear, Fritz?” asked one of the soldiers.

“Oh, id vos a terrible racket, lige a lot uf Injuns fighdin’.”

“Sure an’ Oi don’t belave ye heard inny Injuns at all, Dootchy,” said Tim. “Come wid me, an’ we’ll find out phwat made the racket.”

One of the soldiers seized a brand from the fire, and quite a number made their way to the spot where Fritz had heard the noise, and there, stretched on the ground, dead, they found a wildcat.

“Ho, ho, ho!” laughed Tim. “Sure an’ it’s a woildcat ye wur afther thinkin’ wur Injuns.”

“He made a pretty good shot in the darkness, anyhow,” said another soldier.

“Veil, I am alvays a good shot, alretty,” said Fritz. “But der wildcats made so much racket dot I though dere vos a lot uv redsgins comin’.”

“If there were any redskins in the vicinity, you scared them away,” said a soldier.

“Yah, I guess dot dey vouldn’t come back tonight, alretty,” said Fritz.

The soldiers jollied Fritz a while, and then went back to camp and lay down and were soon asleep.

Fritz remained on sentinel duty an hour or so longer, and then was relieved from duty. But next morning the soldiers had quite a lot of sport jollying Fritz about his wildcat that he thought was a gang of Indians coming to surprise the camp.