By this time the short July night was drawing to a close, and there were signs of the coming dawn in the east. All through the solemn darkness the massacre had continued, and scenes were enacted on both sides of the Susquehanna which the pen has never placed on paper, and which to-day come down to us only in the shuddering legends of those who looked upon and survived to tell of them.
Among the miscreants none was more inhuman than Jake Golcher, the Tory. But for his strong admiration of the pretty Maggie Brainerd not one of the little party of fugitives would have survived capture for fifteen minutes.
He was not the first, as he shall not be the last, bad man who has been restrained from evil by the sweet beauty of some maiden who, unconsciously to herself, has woven her subtle web around him.
Had she walked up to him and promised to be his wife on condition that every one of her friends should be released, he would have complied, though he might have resorted to treachery afterward to gratify the demand for revenge on the part of his Indian allies.
But the father of Maggie had repudiated his claim, and the point at last was reached when he was forced to see that every one of the fugitives, including Maggie herself, looked upon him with unspeakable loathing, and they would die before humbling themselves to him.
"What's the sense of my fooling longer?" he growled, standing sullenly apart and glowering upon them; "they hate me worse than Satan himself, and if Maggie should pledge me her hand, that old father or the brother of her'n wouldn't let her keep her promise. The Injins have got so mad at my soft-heartedness that they begin to 'spect me, and they've gone over to t' other side the river to have their fun there, 'cause there ain't much prospect of gettin' it here."
The renegade spoke a significant truth, and, looking around, he was able to count precisely six Senecas who remained with him. Some of the others who were out hunting in the wood might return, but the chances were against it, and more than likely they had gone off to join in the orgies of which we only dare hint.
Striding across the brief space, Jake Golcher paused in front of Maggie Brainerd and said:
"You have had more mercy to-night than you had a right to expect, and more than you'll get any longer."
"Why do you talk to me thus?" asked the scared maiden, who could not fail to understand what he meant; "why do you feel such hatred of us who have never showed aught but kindness to you?"
"Bah!" interrupted the Tory, angrily; "why do you get over that stuff to me? I want no more of it. The time for begging mercy has gone by. If you had treated me right a while ago it would have been well—"
"Oh, Jake, how can you?"
The agonized girl was about to rush forward and throw herself on her knees before the man, when her father, with flashing eye, interposed.
"Maggie, I forbid you to speak a word to such a scoundrel as he. Sit down and keep silence."
The obedient girl complied, as she would have done had she known that death was to be the penalty.
She placed herself beside Eva, and the two, wrapping their arms about each other, wept in silence.
Aunt Peggy, as if conscious the crisis had come, ceased her cooking and softly seated herself beside them, without a word.
Mr. Brainerd, proud and defiant as ever, sat bolt upright on the fallen tree, with arms folded, looking as keenly as an eagle in the face of the being whom he execrated above any of his kind.
The Senecas watched them all, and it was easy to detect the signs of impatience among them, for they had been baffled too long of their prey.
As Jake Golcher retreated a step or two the Indians uttered a short exclamation of surprise, as well they might, for two figures strode for-toward out of the gloom in the light of the camp-fire.
One of them was Habakkuk McEwen, who led by the arm Lieutenant Fred Godfrey, the latter stepping briskly, while a strange half-smile hovered about his handsome mouth.
Mr. Brainerd and the rest of the fugitives were thunderstruck, and totally at a loss to understand the meaning of the spectacle.
Fortunately, they were not kept long in suspense.
The face of Habakkuk was wreathed in an all-embracing smile, though there was a certain delicacy in his position that prevented his smile becoming contagious.
"Well, Jake, I've brought you your man!" called out Habakkuk, in a voice tremulous with triumph and fear.
"You have done well," replied Golcher, as soon as he could recover his breath; "you have done better than I expected."
"It's all right now, then, ain't it—that is, with me?"
"Certainly; you've earned your freedom and can go. These Injins won't hurt you."
Golcher made a wave of his hand to the warriors grouped around and uttered an exclamation that insured immunity to the eccentric New Englander.
The latter wheeled about and walked straight toward the woods where his friends were awaiting him.
One of the most difficult things for a brave man to do is to stride deliberately off, without decreasing or augmenting his gait, when he has every reason to believe that someone is taking careful aim at him, and that if he doesn't get beyond range in a brief while he is certain to be punctured.
The expectation of receiving a bullet from the rear will make the chills creep over the most courageous person, and give an impetus to his gait like the actual prick of a bayonet.
Habakkuk McEwen walked only a dozen steps when he was so impressed by the situation, that he forgot his identity. With a howl he sprang several feet from the ground and dashed off at the top of his speed into the woods, muttering:
"I'll be hanged if I can stand it; I believe every Injin squattin' there was taking aim at me."
Fred Godfrey and Jake Golcher at last stood face to face, and by the light of the camp-fire looked steadily in the eyes of each other.
"I'm here," said the lieutenant, in his ordinary voice, though he carefully measured his words: "Habakkuk McEwen has kept his pledge, and now I'd like to know what you are going to do about it."
"You would like to know, eh? Wal, I can soon tell you. I'm going to turn you over to these Senecas you see around you; one of them is throwing wood on the fire now; that's for you. More than one rebel has been roasted, and you are none too good to be served the same way."
"So you intend to burn me to death, Jacob, do you?"
"Intend to! I'm going to do so, sartin sure—that is, I'm going to boss the job, but I've promised to let the redskins have the fun of the thing."
"That's the idea, is it? And after I'm disposed of, what then? That is, what is to be done with my friends there?"
"I've no 'bjection to saying," replied the Tory, speaking loud enough for all to hear, "that the old fellow there and that she panther, Aunt Peggy, will be served the same way. The two girls will be taken back to York State with us, and sort of adopted by the Senecas."
All the individuals referred to heard these words, but no one moved or stirred. It may truthfully be said that they were so overcome for the moment that they were speechless.
"That's an imposing programme, Jacob, but, somehow or other, I think there will be a hitch in carrying it out."
"You think so, eh? Wal, you'll see mighty soon that there ain't no mistake about it. The fire is burning and about ready—"
"Jacob," said Fred Godfrey in a low voice, but with such significance that the Tory was transfixed, "I hoped that you would say and do something that would give me excuse for believing you less a miscreant than you are, but you have persisted in shutting out all merciful thoughts—"
"Wh-wh-what d-d-do you m-mean?" stammered Golcher, beginning to feel a giving away in his knees.
"Do you suppose I was such a fool as to allow Habakkuk McEwen, one of my best friends, to bring me back a prisoner to you? You showed your idiocy in sending him out for me; but it is scarcely credible that you could really think he would ever show himself again. But he has, and here I am—
"And now, Jacob, I have the pleasure of informing you that you are atmymercy, and I have only to raise my hand—so—to have you riddled with bullets."
As Lieutenant Fred Godfrey slowly raised his hand, as if it were the signal for his friends to open fire, Jake Golcher collapsed.
Sinking down on the ground, as limp as a rag, he began begging in the most pitiful tones for his life. Indeed, he groveled so in the dirt that all the whites who looked upon him found their feelings of hatred turning to disgust and pity.
Fred Godfrey was disappointed, and, stepping back a pace or two, gazed on the miserable craven as he would upon a dog he had caught stealing sheep, and which was then cringing at his feet.
Instead of waiting until the patriot had proven the truth of his declaration, the renegade succumbed at once. It is hard to kick the wretch who clasps your knees, and the lieutenant, who was determined to rid the world of the man as soon as he had made the declaration of his purposes respecting the captives, found his resentment gone.
Mr. Brainerd, with an expression of scorn, sprang up from the log and strode over to his son.
"In Heaven's name, let him go, Fred! Kick him out of sight, for he hasn't the manhood to stand up and be shot like a man."
"Get up!" commanded Fred, catching him by the collar of his coat, and jerking him to his feet: "I want to speak to you."
But Golcher was no sooner on his feet than he went to pieces again, groaning and whining, and begging for that mercy that he had so often denied to others.
Again the lieutenant yanked him to the upright position, and, finding him collapsed as before, he cuffed his ears until they tingled, shouting:
"Stand up, or you're a dead man!"
Finally, after wabbling about several minutes, Golcher summoned enough strength to keep his feet, though in a shaky condition; and finding he was not to be executed immediately, he managed to grasp the situation.
"I was going to say—What do you mean, Gravity?"
This sudden question was caused by Gimp, the African, who, with a chuckle, ran forward from the darkness that was beginning to give away before the approach of day, and, jamming his head down in the ground between Godfrey and Golcher, threw his huge feet in the air, and began kicking with such recklessness that one of them struck the lieutenant in the breast, nearly knocking him over, while the other sent the Tory recoiling some distance.
"Can't help it!" exclaimed the happy African; "Jake Golcher's s'prise party dat was to hab arriv, hab arroven, and me and Aunt Peggy feels like standin' on our heads, and kickin' de limbs off de trees."
Gravity used his feet rather too vigorously, and, swaying beyond the point of nature's gravity, came down on his back with a resounding thump; but he did not mind it, and leaping up, ran to the fallen tree, where he sat down among his friends with the most extravagant manifestations of joy.
It is not to be supposed that the six Senecas remained idle spectators of this extraordinary scene. They were quick to comprehend what it meant, and had they but maintained guard for the preceding hour or two with their usual care the surprise could not have been effected.
But, if any warriors could feel warranted in believing themselves beyond danger of molestation from white men, it was those Indians who took part in the Wyoming massacre.
When they grasped their guns and glanced around, their eyes encountered a strange sight. It seemed as if a score of men had sprung from the ground like so many visions of the night, and every one of the Iroquois who used his eyes saw a gun leveled at him.
Had the scene occurred in Texas to-day, it would have been said that Dick Durkee and his foresters "had the drop" on the Tory and his Iroquois.
The latter saw they were caught, and they preserved a masterly inactivity, pending the negotiations between the two parties.
There was a threatened complication that might turn the tables again, and this time against the patriots. Some of the Senecas were absent and were likely to come back. Gray Panther might be among them, and in such an event the whites were likely to find themselves between two fires.
"You poor fool," said Fred, when Golcher got into such shape that he could understand what was said to him; "stand up like a man, or I'll shoot you!"
"Yes—yes—yes, I—w-w-wi-ll; what do you want?"
"I want to make an agreement with you, and it's got to be done mighty quick or not at all."
Thereupon the Tory straightened up wonderfully; but, happening to look about him and to catch sight of the patriots standing, as it seemed everywhere, with their guns leveled, he was seized with another fit of shivering, and it was some time before he could compose himself.
"You see," said the lieutenant, "that you are at my mercy, and I'll treat you better than you deserve. I have but to give the signal, as I told you a minute ago, and ten seconds from now there wouldn't be a Tory or red Indian standing alive in this camp. Every one of you is covered, but I'll agree to let you and them withdraw, on condition that you do so without a second's delay."
"I'll do it—I'll do it!" gasped Golcher; "I'll give you an escort to Stroudsburg, or anywhere you want to go."
"I rather think you won't," was the reply of Godfrey. "You have escorted us altogether too much as it is. Thank Heaven, we are in shape to take care of ourselves now."
"Wal, I'm ready to do whatever you want; fact is, leftenant, I never meant one-half I said about you, and I ain't half as mean as—"
"Not another word!" commanded Fred. "We'll attend to business now."
Lieutenant Fred Godfrey expected such a reception from Jake Golcher as would give him a suitable excuse for opening fire on the Tory and the Senecas, but the panic of the leader disarmed his enmity, and really forced the arrangement that was now carried out; one that, it may be said, was intensely disagreeable to Dick Durkee and his comrades, who were unwilling to spare such miscreants.
But the lieutenant was the commander, and there was no rebellion against his orders.
"Bring your warriors up here," ordered Fred, and Golcher made a sign for the Senecas to approach.
They moved forward a few paces, but, mistrusting the purposes of the patriots, refused to come further. Golcher berated, and ordered them to advance, telling them—what they already knew—they were covered by the guns of the whites.
But they stood sullenly apart, and began moving in the direction of the river.
At this moment Dick Durkee called out:
"Lieutenant, shall we fire? We've got every wretch of 'em fast."
"Keep them covered, but don't shoot unless they raise their guns," called Fred, who was embarrassed by the unexpected turn.
"May I go with 'em?" asked Jake Golcher, in a cringing voice, beginning to back away from his dreaded master.
"Yes, go; and I pray Heaven none of us may ever look on your face again."
Fred should have been prepared for what followed, inasmuch as no one understood the treacherous nature of Tory and Indian better than he, but, as we have intimated, he was confronted by an unexpected condition of affairs, and was caught off his guard, so to speak.
He saw the warriors withdrawing, and already entering the wood on his left, while he stood in the full light of the camp-fire, calmly watching the movement.
"Fred, move away from there," called out his father; "you are too good a mark for them."
Fortunately, the young man stepped back and to one side, placing himself near Dick Durkee, who stood with cocked rifle, fairly quivering with rage, because he was forced to hold his fire.
Fred himself had his pistol at command, but he was without any rifle, having handed his over to one of his friends, when he went forward with Habakkuk McEwen.
The Indians were in the fringe of the wood, when all the former prisoners, who were sitting on the fallen tree, sprang up, and began moving away.
At this juncture one of Durkee's men shouted:
"Look out! They're going to shoot!"
The words were yet in his mouth, when Jake Golcher, with unparalleled treachery, raised the gun that he had caught from one of the Senecas, and aimed directly at Maggie Brainerd.
His position was such that only her father understood his purpose, and he sprang forward to shield his daughter, throwing himself before her at the very moment the Tory discharged his gun.
With a groan of pain, the brave parent staggered a few steps and fell heavily to the ground.
"Just as I expected," exclaimed Dick Durkee. "Give it to 'em, boys! Don't spare one!"
With incredible celerity the Iroquois fired their guns almost simultaneously with the Tory, and then darted off like so many shadows through the wood, the dim morning light being insufficient to betray them in the thick undergrowth.
But Dick Durkee and his men returned the volley instantly, and sprang after them.
Fred Godfrey had not noticed the fall of his father, but, with his whole soul aflame at the outrage, he dashed toward the wretches, pistol in hand, determined to wreak vengeance on the party, who, he well knew, were inspired to the deed by Golcher himself.
On the edge of the wood, where the Senecas had stood for a single moment when they fired their guns, two of their number were stretched lifeless, proving that the return volley had done some execution.
The settlers charged through the undergrowth without any regard to order and the peril into which they might precipitate themselves.
Had Gray Panther and his warriors appeared on the ground at that crisis, in all probability he would have drawn the entire party into ambush, and cut them off to a man.
But the fleeing force was too small to attempt a stand, or any such tactics, and they devoted themselves entirely to getting away.
They were more expert in this than their pursuers, and scattering—as is the custom of the red men to this day, when closely pressed—each used all his energy and cunning in flight.
Dick Durkee and his men, including Fred Godfrey, went crashing and tearing ahead, glaring in front and to the right and left in quest of a target, but finding none, until, when the blind pursuit had lasted fifteen minutes or more, it dawned on those concerned that it was idle to attempt anything more.
Then they stopped for breath, and, turning about, began straggling back toward camp.
Fred Godfrey would have been the last to rejoin his friends had he not been seized with a dread that something might go wrong with those who were left defenseless.
He therefore hastened, and in the gray light of the morning came upon a scene of sadness.
Richard Brainerd, his step-father, lay on his back, with his head in the lap of Maggie, while Eva was weeping over him, and Aunt Peggy was standing beside them, her face streaming with tears.
Gravity Gimp was rolling on the ground in an agony of sorrow, for he saw what was apparent to the young man—the loved father and master was dying.
Fred knelt by his side, and taking a whisky flask from the rough but kind-hearted Dick Durkee, pressed it to the white lips of the sufferer.
"It's no use, Fred," said he, with a sad smile; "I'm done for. Jake Golcher fired that shot, but he meant it for Maggie, and not for me. I'm close to death."
"I hope it isn't as bad as that," said Fred, through his tears, his manner showing he could not believe his own words.
"It's as well that I should go," said the old man, rallying slightly; "and I'm thankful that the rest of you escaped. Good-bye, Fred."
The youth took the hand that was already growing clammy and limp, and, returning the pressure, could only murmur:
"Good-bye, good bye; would that it had been I, rather than such a noble father as you have always been to me."
Gravity Gimp, rousing to a sense of the situation, rushed forward with irrestrainable grief, and shook the hand of his master, bending over and kissing his forehead.
Aunt Peggy did the same, and then came the last, sad parting scene between the father and his loved daughters.
The murmured words were heard only by Maggie and Eva, who treasured them up in after-years as the most precious mementos of their lives.
When the mild, loving eyes of the parent gradually grew dim, they rested upon the tearful faces of the two girls; and, as he entered the land of shadows, his last memory of the world he left behind was illumined by those two yearning countenances, whose kisses were pressed upon his lips. And the dark angel, reaching out his hand, took that of the patriot, and led him through the shadowy valley into the bright realms beyond.
Among the most eager pursuers of the treacherous Tory and his Seneca allies, was Habakkuk McEwen, who had withdrawn to the rear of the settlers that held the Indians at their mercy during the interview between Jake Golcher and Fred Godfrey.
The natural timidity of the new Englander led him to do this, but he was so infuriated by the act of the party, that he lost all thought of personal danger, and charged through the wood at the very head of the avengers.
McEwen had no rifle, but he quickly supplied himself with one. Catching sight of a Seneca who had fallen before the volley of Dick Durkee and his comrades, he snatched the weapon from his rigid grasp and sped along like a deer.
He had ammunition, and a hasty examination showed that the gun was unloaded. With a coolness hardly to be expected, McEwen stopped in his pursuit and deliberately recharged the rifle, which seemed to be a fine weapon.
"I don't want to be catched without anything to help myself with," he said to himself, resuming the chase.
This was conducted in such a blind, headlong fashion, that Habakkuk speedily found himself not only out of sight of the Indians, but of his comrades, who were threshing in different directions, some of them shouting like madmen.
"I think they'll make for the river," concluded the New Englander, after a moment's pause, "and I'll keep on till I reach the water myself."
As the flush of the first excitement wore off, Habakkuk began to doubt whether he was doing a prudent thing, in chasing a whole war party in this single-handed style.
"I'll take a little pains that they don't get afterme," he thought, beginning to use more caution in his movements.
It was a considerable distance to the Susquehanna, but he pushed on, and just as the gray light of the morning was penetrating the wilderness and spreading over the water, he caught the familiar gleam of the beautiful stream.
Looking across, he paused in silent contemplation of the familiar scene. Naturally, he first noticed that landmark so well remembered by old settlers, which was known as the "umbrella tree," on account of its peculiar shape, and which was visible a long distance, standing as it did on the mountains of the western shore.
But he was withdrawn from viewing the general features of the landscape, by the sight of the heavy smoke that rested like a pall on the other bank. It partly shut out from sight the straggling houses, most of which were smoldering ashes, and suggested the awful desolation that had been wrought in Wyoming Valley during the few hours that had passed since the memorable battle was fought near Forty Fort.
"I've no doubt pandemonium was let loose there last night," muttered Habakkuk, "and it was a good thing for us that we got across when we did, and a much better thing that Dick Durkee and his men j'ined us—Hello!"
He was standing where his body was pretty well screened, and was wondering that he saw no one moving, when he was alarmed by a splash in the water a short distance above him.
Fearful of being discovered, Habakkuk crouched down, and cocked his gun.
"It must be some of the scoundrels, who are everywhere; I hadn't orter been quite so rash—"
At that moment some one sprang into the river, and, wading out a short distance, began swimming for the other shore.
The timid patriot did not dare look out at him until he had gotten some distance away, when he peeped through the undergrowth, and scrutinized the head and shoulders that were moving rapidly across the stream.
Then, to his amazement, he recognized the man as Jake Golcher, the Tory, who had wrought all this ruin and sorrow; though Habakkuk was far from suspecting the whole result of the shot of the renegade.
"By the great Cæsar! it's him," gasped Habakkuk, trembling with excitement; "and that gives me a chance to win some laurels with the other folks, especially with pretty Maggie."
Assuming a kneeling position, he took the most careful aim of his life at the unsuspecting ingrate, and when certain there could be no miss, pulled the trigger.
There was no flash in the pan nor miss of aim. The career of Jake Golcher ended then and there, with a suddenness and freedom from suffering that were mercy compared to what he deserved.
Habakkuk McEwen lingered long enough to make certain that there was no mistake, and then he stealthily reloaded his rifle before stirring from the spot. He was apprehensive when several Indians appeared on the other shore and showed some signs of an intention to cross the stream.
This was enough for McEwen, who scrambled out of his hiding-place, and scarcely paused until he reached the camp, where he came upon the sorrowful scene to which we have already referred.
Mr. Brainerd was no more, and the mourning friends, having rallied from their first shock of grief, were preparing to leave the spot, which for a while to come must be one of exceeding great danger to them.
After some consultation, Fred Godfrey, Dick Durkee, and Gravity Gimp tenderly lifted the body and carried it to a mass of rocks but a short distance away.
Had they possessed a shovel they would have given it burial until they could return, but that was impossible.
Accordingly, it was laid away in a natural sepulchre, and the boulders were so piled around it as to prevent disturbance from animals; then all bade it a tearful adieu, and the faces of the little party were turned toward the far-off settlements of the upper Delaware.
Already the sounds of firing and the shouts of Indians were heard from the other side of the Susquehanna, while terrified fugitives were continually encountered.
Some of these were in such sore extremity that they were taken charge of by Fred Godfrey and Dick Durkee. Maggie and Eva Brainerd were so melted by their own sufferings that they found it impossible to pass by any of the poor beings without doing their utmost to relieve their distress.
And among all the fugitives that hastened in such horror from the Wyoming settlements that day, there were many who had been smitten in a more cruel manner than the loving daughters, but there was not one whose woe was deeper than theirs.
Eva and Maggie bore it like the heroines they were, and but for their pale faces and swollen eyes no one would have suspected the depth of their anguish. They said nothing to show it, but were as busy and thoughtful for the others as though all were their brothers and sisters.
Aunt Peggy was silent most of the time, but now and then her hard features quivered with emotion, and she uttered anathemas against those who had wrought all this mischief and sorrow.
Gravity Gimp was the most demonstrative of the company, his sobbing and lamentations more than once bringing tears to the eyes of the others.
When Habakkuk McEwen made known that he had ended the career of Jake Golcher there was not one who would believe him; but, fortunately for the New Englander's reputation, his declaration was confirmed in an unexpected manner.
One of Dick Durkee's men was late in joining the party that started away that morning, but when he came he said that he, too, was stealing along the river bank, though a considerable distance above where Golcher entered it. As soon as he identified the Tory he raised his gun to shoot, but when he pulled the trigger he discovered that there was no charge in the weapon.
With an expression of impatience he proceeded to correct his mistake, and was in the act of pouring powder in the pan when the crack of some one's else gun sounded just below him.
The woodman could not see who fired it, but he saw the Tory throw up his arms and disappear, so that a second shot was unnecessary. He tarried, however, some time longer, and observed three Indians who swam out into the river in search of the body, showing that they, too, knew who it was.
This settled the question; and henceforth Habakkuk McEwen became a sort of hero among his comrades, who shook him by the hand and congratulated him on the service done his friends.
The vanity of the fellow was flattered, and when he attempted to explain his previous conduct it was accepted good-naturedly; so that, before the day was over, he came to the conclusion that he was in point of fact the bravest and most dashing member of the company, and the one who ought to be the leader.
The mountains were passed in safety, and it was not without some misgivings that the party entered that desolate stretch of wilderness several times referred to as the "Shades of Death."
What was dreaded more than anything else was the want of provisions, which was sure to cause suffering.
Habakkuk McEwen was the only one in the company who had a particle of food, and when that came to be distributed among eight or ten women that had been gathered about them, it was scarcely more than an aggravation of hunger.
Our own friends, it will be remembered, had eaten a substantial meal of young pig the previous evening, and were in much better form than many who had fled from Wyoming, and had partaken of no food during the previous twenty-four hours.
The sufferings of the fugitives from Wyoming in passing through the "Shades of Death" were dreadful, as is always the case where such large bodies flee in a panic.
Many children were born, and perished in the wilderness. Strong men lay down and died, and the bones of the victims marked every mile of the way.
But there were many who survived, and one bright summer morning all our friends reached the hamlet of Stroudsburg, so far removed from the scene of massacre that every cause for alarm had passed.
There were fugitives before them, and the hospitality of the villagers was taxed to the utmost, but they gladly met every demand.
The weather was so mild that much suffering had been saved the settlers, whose trouble rose mainly from the lack of food.
In Stroudsburg were old friends and relatives of the Brainerds, who did everything in their power for them. It was arranged that Maggie, Eva, and Aunt Peggy should stay with them indefinitely until there could be no risk in going back.
The anxiety of the brother and sisters was that the body of their father should be laid away in proper form, and Fred Godfrey and Gravity Gimp went back to Wyoming for that purpose.
When the sad duty was finished they once more made their way to Stroudsburg, where the young patriot bade his friends a tender adieu, after which he started to join the Continental army under Washington.
Habakkuk McEwen went with him, and, despite a manifestation of his natural timidity now and then, made a good record. Both he and Fred, who had become a captain, were present at the surrender of Yorktown, which ended the struggle of the colonies, and established the independence of the United States of America.
When they returned to Wyoming the settlements had recovered, to a great extent, from the visitation of the Tories and Indians three years before.
The Brainerd homestead, which was partly burned, was restored to a substantial condition, and Gravity Gimp was as big and strong and devoted as ever.
The rich soil needed but to be "tickled with a plow" to "laugh a harvest," and it yielded bountifully. There had been several incursions by Indians, during one of which the little girl, Frances Slocum, was taken off by a party of Delawares. Her wonderful history is part of that of Wyoming.
But the Brainerd family suffered nothing further. Eva had grown into a blooming girl when Captain Fred Godfrey came back and joined them at the old homestead. All in due time, he took for his bride one of the blue-eyed lassies of Wyoming, and Maggie and Eva were equally fortunate in securing the best of partners for life.
Peace folded her gentle wings over the scene of the stirring events that took place more than a century ago, and the thunders of war have never awakened the echoes along that part of the Susquehanna since.
May it ever be thus throughout our fair land, to the end of time.
The next Volume of the "Wyoming Series" will be "Storm Mountain."