The plan was simple and reckless, the kind Chris hated and the Major enjoyed. He could still hear the Major’s voice, ”In order to achieve great gains, a certain amount of calculated risk must needs be taken.” Chris had to admit that regardless of the French preparation, this situation had all the earmarks of a great gain.
As long as he could create a small diversion, enough for the Major to slip out of their quarters, everything would fall into place. This winter was harsh, and he and the Major counted on no one toiling after sundown in the Legardeur’s office. The Major could cover his tracks and be back before anyone knew he was gone.
Chris did his best to frown, but it was obvious that he was excited about the operation. How could he not be, considering that he’s done nothing but sit for days? He winked to the Major, opened the unlocked door to the cabin, and walked out toward the French guardhouse. He walked at a slow, but steady, pace, trying to attract the attention of the guards, but only just enough so as not to get a bayonet in his back.
After he was sure he was seen, he walked away from the door and stood right in front of the barrel stack, the one with that interesting knot the Major had seen earlier. Immediately, two French soldiers walked out to greet him.
The Major watched through the crack in the half-opened door as Chris explained his needs in broken French. One of the soldiers
left and approached the quarters as expected. Just as the Frenchman entered the cabin, the Major made a hasty exit out of the east window hidden by the open door and quietly closed the shutter.
Chris waited until one soldier recognized the word ”blankets,” and motioned for him to stay put while he went for them. This had to happen quickly so that the second soldier didn’t have much time to poke around in the cabin. That’s why Chris and the Major chose a simple item that the soldiers could easily get their hands on.
Chris didn’t lift his head to look at the cabin. He wanted to keep the guards’ attention on himself. He started to whistle what he thought was a French melody and rub his hands in the night air. It was frigid in Pennsylvania at this time of year. Luckily, he wasn’t the kind that chilled easily, another good quality for a trapper. He thought he could hear the soldier open the door to the quarters and step inside, but he was too far away to be sure.
After the soldier was out of site, Chris turned toward the knot in the barrel and could clearly see that the knot was a round hole cut into the side. He couldn’t make out what was inside, but it was obvious that the barrel was a fake front quickly put together. If you weren’t observant, you would just see a barrel stack on the wall facing the cabin. But the barrel in question was too close to the wall to be freestanding. The French had to have cut the back off and to push it up against the wall, which would have a small door in it. A soldier could then open the door, and stick his head and his musket into the barrel, and look out through the knot. I’m not sure how they would be able to
shoot and look at the same time, but the hole was just big enough to allow a soldier to do either one.
He took out a small, wooden wedge that he found inside the cabin, probably designed to hold the door open. He pushed it as hard as he could between the fake barrel and the barrels that sat on top of it. As he and George had surmised, the French didn’t take time to secure the barrels to the wall of the guardhouse. The barrels were out of kilter, and could be easily toppled.
Chris started to worry? ”Where was the soldier with those blankets?” he mumbled to himself.