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Beyond thefrom the chimneys of the unseen settlement Presently a small barefoot boy caged it up the road tight as he could go The Oneida, shtly

"Yes, Little Otter," I said, "they take us for so presently with their guns Hark! There goes a signal-shot now!"

The s the hills; a conch-horn's o on to the Yellow Tavern," I said; and we rose and li wearily

Before we reached the Oswaya mill soh an orchard, calling on us to halt One carried a shovel, one a rifle, and the older man, whom I knew as a former tenant of my father, bore an ancient firelock When I called out to hi to knohether ere Whigs or Tories; and when at length he recognized me he appeared to be vastly relieved It see apples, and that hearing the shot fired, had started for their ho us, and supposing we had cut hiht his way through to the lad you ain't shot, Mr Renault," he said in his thin, high voice, scratching his chin, and staring hard at the Oneida "Seein' these here painted injuns sorter riled me up, an' I up an' let ye have it So did Willu Sir John for a month, so you must kindly excuse us, Mr Renault!"

He shook his white head and looked up the road where a dozen ar us froa," I said "Why don't you go to Johnstown, We his hard jaw reflectively

"Waal, sir," he piped, "it's kind er hard to leave all you've got in the world" He added, looking around at his fields: "I'd be a pauper if I quit Mebbe they won't coo down the Valley"

"Besides, we ain't got our pumpkins in nor the winter corn stacked," observed one of his sons sullenly

We all turned and walked slowly up the road in the direction of the big yellow tavern, old We all the while in a thin, flat, high-pitched voice: "It seems kind'r hard that Sir John can't quit his pesterin' an' leave folks alone What call has he to coin' 'round here year after year, a-butcherin' his old neighbors, Mr Renault? 'Pears to , a-whirlin' round and round the same stump, buttin' and bitin' and clawin' up the hull place Sakes alive! ain't he got no human natur'? Last Tuesday they come to Dan Norris's, five mile down the creek, an' old man Norris he was in the barn one for the cow A painted Tory run into the kitchen an' hit the old woman with his hatchet, an' she fetched a screech, an' her darter, 'Liza, she screeched, too Then a Injun he hit the darter, and he kep' a-kickin' an' a-hittin', an' old man Norris he heard the rumpus out to the barn, an' he run in, an' they pushed his A Tory clubbed him an' ripped his skelp off, the old man on his knees, a-bellowin' piteous, till they knifed him all to slivers an' kicked as left o' him into the road The darter she prayed an' yelled, but 'twan't no use, for they cut her that bad with hatchets she was dead when Dan cain' his milk-stool--but, Lord, sir, what can one man do? He was that shot up it 'ud sicken you, Mr Renault An' then they o little boys a-lookin' on at it, too frightened to move; but when the destructives was a-beatin' old Mrs Norris to death they hid in the fence-hedge An' they both of 'eot clean off, only the littlest one screamed when they tore the skelp off'n the old woman; an' he run off, but a Tory he chased him an' ketched his between his'n, an' bent hi awful Then the Tory skelped hi him acrost the fence The only Norris what coht in the fence-scrub--Jimht to tell us of theot no wits, an' he jests sets an' sets, starin' at nothin'--leastways at nothin' I kin see----"