288 Hills and Lakes. 



their bodies burned in tlie flames of tlaeir own 

 home. 



" ' I was fifteen years old then, and a strong, 

 knowing boy, for my years. I'd been down one day 

 to the Mohawk for the doctor, for my father was sick. 

 I had to go five miles on foot to reach him, but he 

 was sickj too, and couldn't go. He gave me some 

 medicine for my father, and I started back. It was a 

 while after dark when I came in sight of our clearin'. 

 I didn't go the road, but followed a footpath across tlie 

 woods. "When I came to the stream, and was crossin' 

 it on a log, I saw the forms of men standin' in the 

 darkness round the house, and knew they were 

 Ingens, and my heart sunk within me, for I knew 

 they Avere there for no good. I hid away in a thick 

 bunch of bushes, where I could see the house, for I 

 was afraid to go further. I had no weapon, and if 

 murder was their object, God help my parents and 

 their little ones, for I could do them no good. All at 

 once the door was burst open, the savages screamed 

 their terrible war cry, and I saAV them rush in like 

 devils;. I heard the screams of my little sisters^ and a 

 wild shriek from my mother. A great cloud seemed 



