"What a pity," Agnes said; "so this is the fruit of war and hatred." Tears welled into her eyes.

"And our Sunday school classes have become our enemies, no doubt," Matthew reflected; "all of love's labor is lost."

"War destroys, and peace builds up," Fred spoke calmly; "we must expect all this, and more. The end is not yet."

"What do you mean?" Agnes asked as she watched her brother's furrowed brow. "Do you expect trouble?"

"The Indians who burned this log house, are not far away," he whispered to her. "We must try to get to Hartford before they detect us."

"Let's talk it over quickly," Matthew suggested who in hours of danger was always impatient.

"Yes, let's do that," Agnes assented; "we'll hide our horses in the deep woods along the river. I know a fine place, where we may conceal ourselves."

"How about our boat?" Matthew asked. "Wouldn't it be better if we go to Hartford by way of the river?"

"Pst," Fred warned him, "you and Agnes are talking too loudly and excitedly. I am afraid that these woods have ears, as the Dutch say. Let's get away from here."

Fred was right. The children had not seen the Indians who, hidden behind the trees, observed every movement they made. So of this they were unaware, and in a moment they disappeared in the thick bush, drawing their horses after them.

The Indians did not disturb them, for they knew that they could not escape, though they were not many in number, since they constituted only a scouting party, left behind the main body which had moved west to come back from the south and thus surprise the white men.

As soon as the children had hidden their horses, they sought a small cave which they had discovered the year before, and here they held a council.

"First," said Fred, "let us kneel down in prayer; for if the Lord will not guide our thoughts, we shall never escape."

They prayed fervently, as people do who are in great trouble, and closed their devotion with a Lord's Prayer in unison.

"And now you wait here, till I return," Fred said; "but don't make any noise. I must find out whether our boat is still here."

He slipped away from them, carrying his rifle, but avoiding every possible noise.

"How clever Fred is!" Matthew said; "I wish I could be like him. But I fear I can never overcome my fright on expeditions such as these. I was not born to be a soldier."

Agnes smiled.

"The Lord has wisely not made all people alike," she said; "some He wants to be soldiers, other ministers, and others statesmen. Each has his peculiar gift. But oh, how I wish that I had been born a boy! I don't mind this at all."

Matthew looked at her with surprise.

"Aren't you, too, a bit afraid?" he asked her "It seems to me as if you really enjoyed this kind of frolic."

Agnes looked at him seriously. "Indeed," she said, "I do not, for I hate war. War is of Satan, and peace is of God. It is dreadful that People should kill each other, and this for the sake of money and gain. Had these Indians been treated kindly, they never would have gone on the war path. But the English traders deceived them, and the Dutch incited them to blooodshed. So here we are!"

"It is a pity," Matthew said; "and what a fine Sunday school we had! The children could sing, and praise Jesus as well as the white people. There is no reason why they should not be true Christians, every one of them. It is the fault of the white men, as you say. I deeply regret that there are rascals who disgrace our religion."

Agnes did not answer. Her eyes were riveted to the entrance of the cave where she anxiously watched the fading light of day.

"It is getting to be night," she said, "and I am hungry as a bear. I wish Fred would come."

"I wonder where he can be," Matthew said wearily; "this business of waiting doesn't strike me as a very opportune thing just now. If I had my way, I would be running like a rabbit, until we were back at Boston. And never will I leave that place again! We did wrong in not obeying our parents."

Agnes looked at him reprovingly. "That does not solve our problems now," she ventured. "I, too, wish we were back, but we are here now, and we must make the best of it. But oh, if only Fred were here."

"Let's go and look for him," Matthew broke in.

"No," Agnes replied, "we must stay and wait. They also serve who only stand and wait."

Yet she also became tired as the moments crept on slowly and wearily. Darkness covered the cave, and she could hardly see the opening any more.

"Matthew," she whispered as she walked forward, "you remain here with the guns. I will go and look for Fred. It is dark now!"

In a moment she was gone, while Matthew almost wept for anguish of heart. Yet he had learned to obey both Fred and Agnes, though he was older than they. There was something indescribably firm in their voices and conduct which he never could understand, and often he himself wondered what made him stand in awe of them.

Just now he bitterly reproved himself for not having followed Agnes.

"She is a girl and you are a boy," he scolded himself; "but she is a heroine, and you are a coward. How could you let her go alone!"

He waited impatiently, but neither Agnes nor Fred returned.

Overcome with fear, he knelt down in prayer, for he was a very pious boy.

"Good Lord," he prayed, "help Fred and Agnes and me, and let us not perish in this wilderness. Show us a way to escape out of this trouble that we may praise Thy glorious name. Help us for Jesus' sake."

Then as the dreary hours passed slowly and monotonously, his strength gave way, and he soon was fast asleep.



CHAPTER X

CAPTURE AND ESCAPE

How long Matthew slept, he could not tell, but suddenly he was awake, and some one was holding his hand over his mouth.

In the darkness the form seemed large and grotesque, and his first impulse was to cast aside the hand and to cry out.

But then he heard a soft voice spoken almost in a whisper, and he recognized Fred.

"Matthew," Fred whispered, "come to yourself; awake, and sit up. I have something to tell you. Where is Agnes?"

"She went away to look for you," Matthew replied; "she left a long, long time ago."

Fred could not suppress a painful cry.

"And she didn't come back?" he asked excitedly.

"No," Matthew muttered.

"Then she, too, was captured," Fred explained sorrowfully, "and she is in the hands of the Indians."

"Oh! Oh!" Matthew cried bursting into tears. "What have I done?"

"Be silent now," Fred warned him. "The Indians are following me. Let me briefly tell you how it all came about. I crept up to the place where the boat was hidden, but found it one. There was no noise, and so I thought I was safe. The boat might have slipped down into the stream. I stood up and looked, when suddenly the Indians seized me, tied me, muzzled me, and carried me off up the bank."

Matthew looked at him with dread written all over his face.

"Fred," he said, "you were captured?"

"Yes," the other replied, "I was, and those cowards at once took me into the woods, where quite a large band of Pequots were assembled."

"I thought there were only a few," Matthew interrupted him; "just a mere scouting party."

"There was originally," Fred continued, "but It seems as if they were joined by another scouting party, and there were even women with them. The Indians are shrewd and clever, much more than we white people think. While the main troop is going west, scouting parties are all over the woods, watching the movements of the whites, and killing off individuals or families as they find them. They are mopping up the woods, ridding them of the white foes. They are doing thorough work."

"But how did you escape?" Matthew asked.

"That wasn't hard," Fred answered; "as soon as they had taken me into the woods, I became very angry, and as well as I could I commanded them to remove the gag from my mouth. I spoke to them in the Pequot language, and this made an impression on them."

"How fortunate that we know that tongue!" Matthew exclaimed. "If I am caught, I know what to do."

"You never will be caught," Fred said emphatically; "I won't let you. If I hadn't been dreaming and forgetting the danger I was in, they never would have got me. But I learned a lesson."

"But tell me your story to the end," Matthew begged. "It is so interesting."

"Well," Fred started, "when they had removed the gag, I first fumed and scolded, much to their delight, for they kept on laughing as I rebuked them."

"I called them cowards who could do nothing else but seize little boys, and them unarmed. This amused them very much, and finally one after another stole away to the fire where the women were broiling large pieces of meat. Seeing that, I demanded food also, and at last an old squaw had pity on me and brought me a rich supply. Here is some of it; We may need it on our way. Lucky, that we have at least one musket! Mine the Indians took."

"But what then?" Matthew asked inquisitively. "How did you get away?"

"When the darkness fell over the camp," Fred related, "they simply lay down to sleep, after they had tied me to a tree. The Indian who attended to the work, must have liked me, for he took pains that the sinews were not strung too tightly. So what could I do? While they were sleeping, I cleared my hands, cut the bands, and slipped away from them. And look what I took along?"

He held up a large scalping knife.

"Where did you get that?" Matthew exclaimed in astonishment. "That knife will be very valuable to us."

"The scout was sleeping," Fred said, "though he was supposed to watch, and I crept up to him and removed it for safety's sake."

"You are quite a hero," Matthew praised him; "I could never be so brave as that."

"There was little bravery," Fred said contemptuously; "the Indians are not careful; they just began the war; later they will take more care of their prisoners. Now they still despise the whites."

"But what shall we do now?" Matthew asked. "We cannot stay here all night."

"That is true," Fred answered; "we must be going; but first let us thank the Lord for His goodness. Without Him we can do nothing. It is He who hitherto has helped us, and may He bring Agnes back to us."

After a brief pause in which both thanked the Lord, they departed, Fred carrying the musket, while Matthew held on to the knife.

Silently they crept up the high bank of the river through the deep brushwood, until they could see the Indian camp. But though they looked hard, the Indians were gone.

"What is the matter?" Matthew asked, as he looked at Fred with deep concern in his eyes. "I see no Indians."

"Lie low," Fred admonished him, "and follow me."

The boys crept on, but the Indians were gone, not a trace could be found of them.

"Perhaps it is a trap," Matthew commented; "we must be careful." Deeper and deeper they pierced the woods. Dawn came, and day light, and the boys were still walking, but not a trace of the Indians could be seen. They had disappeared completely.

"Well, if they don't bother us," Fred remarked, "we shall not bother them. We are angels of peace, and don't want war. So if they leave us alone, we are satisfied."

"I should say so," Matthew assented. "No war for me, if I can help it."

"Suppose we lie down here," Fred said after a while; "I am dead tired, and so are you. My head is spinning, and I cannot think clearly. 'He giveth His beloved sleep,' says the holy Word."

"You are right," Matthew responded; "nothing could be more welcome to me than a good bed at this time, though I am still hungry."

"If you are," Fred said, "have some more Indian meat; it is very good, although it is rather rare. But the Indians like it that way."

Matthew ate ravenously despite of the fact that the meat was only half done. But hunger is the best cook, as the proverb says, and he was not very fastidious. Anything would have tasted good to him just then.

"But don't eat it all," Fred admonished him; "we may need of it for dinner, though I hope that by that time we may have something better."

"I will mind your admonition," Matthew said smiling, as he plunged his teeth into the juicy bear meat.

Then they lay down and slept, as if they were at home and not in the Indian infested woods.

Yet they were safe, for the good Lord to whom they commended themselves before falling asleep, watched over them, better than they knew.



CHAPTER XI

BACK AGAIN AND AGNES

"Don't bother me," said Fred half awake; "it's not time for breakfast; just let me sleep a little more."

Matthew pinched his nose so that he could not breathe, and this brought Fred to his feet.

"Oh, I clean forgot!" he said laughing. "My, but that sleep was good! What time of the day is it anyway? We must have slept all day."

They looked to the sky, though the huge trees were much in their way, and noticed that the sun was far in the west.

"We are great heroes," Fred said laughing; "we sleep while the enemy is around us. Let us go."

The boys were in high spirits, and thanked God heartily for having preserved them so wonderfully.

"Who knows what was going on around us while we slept?" Matthew reflected. "Perhaps the Indians were in our vicinity, and we were shielded from their view. We have much to be grateful for."

"If only I knew where Agnes is!" Fred said; "she is a bright girl, and if they don't take better care of her than they did of me, I fear that she will escape them. She is as spry as a squirrel."

"We must find her," Matthew urged eagerly; "but where shall we go? I must confess that I am completely bewildered. Why, even that sun has turned. Before it was in the west, and now it is in the north. What's happening to me?"

"You need some more bear's meat," Fred said; "you are starved. So let us first eat and then think."

After eating a little of the meat, they found themselves wonderfully refreshed. A little brook furnished them a cool, welcome drink, and with renewed spirits they set forth on their trip. They walked all day and long after the sun had set, they were still groping in the dark.

"This will never do," Matthew finally said; "we are getting nowhere."

"You are right," Fred answered; "as long as the sun was shining, I knew the way, but now I am completely lost. We better lie down and sleep until it is day. Then we can see where we are."

They prayed still more fervently than they had done before, for their strength was exhausted and they were bewildered.

"If the Lord will not help us out of this," Matthew said, "we are completely lost."

"The greater the need, the nearer is God, indeed," Fred said; and after eating a little of the bear's meat, the boys lay down on the soft grass, creeping close to each other, for the nights were cool. They slept soundly until dawn, when Fred awoke and awakened his companion.

"Brother," he said; "listen, there are Indians in the neighborhood. I hear them. And now see, they are making a fire!"

The boys crept through the woods, and when they had reached the top of a low ridge, they saw the camp before them.

"It's the same band of Indians that burned down the log house," Fred suggested; "I recognize some of them."

"Then let's go, for it is not safe to be near them," Matthew urged. "I don't care to fall into their hands just now."

"The sun is rising," Fred said cheerfully, "and now we can again find our way through the woods. Here is the direction; we go east to the river."

They walked away swiftly, but they had not gone more than a few rods, when suddenly they saw two large dogs running after them.

"Shoot them," Matthew ordered his companion, "they look wild and hungry."

"Not by any means," Fred answered; "a shot in the woods will bring the whole Indian band on our tracks."

"But what shall we do?" Matthew asked.

"Run," Fred replied.

They ran as fast as they could, looking around occasionally to see whether they were followed by Indians, but only the dogs came after them, gaining a little more on them as the boys became weaker.

"I am through," Matthew finally said; "I cannot run any more."

"Neither can I," replied Fred; "but see, here is a hollow log; let us creep into it."

At once they remembered that this act was foolish, for the dogs, barking at their prey, would eventually attract the Indians. But they had no time to change their minds; they were dead tired, and no sooner had they slipped into the tree when the animals were upon them.

For a moment the boys were silent, while the dogs endeavored to follow them into the hollow log.

"Say, we are company enough," Fred muttered; "we don't need you in here. What shall I do, Matthew? Slip me the knife."

"If those dogs are as hungry, as I am," Matthew said, "a little bear's meat might do us good service."

"That's a great idea," Fred answered; "well, hand me some of what is left. It is unfit for us to eat anyway."

The plan worked out well. The dogs swallowed the pieces of meat greedily, and when Fred coaxed them with friendly words, spoken in Pequot, they wagged their tails and showed signs of conciliation.

Slowly Fred crawled out of the log, still feeding the hungry animals of the meat that remained.

Soon he had succeeded in winning their friendship, and when Matthew finally came out from the retreat, the dogs were completely won over.

Together they walked on, the dogs following them, as if they had been friends for many years.

"If we could only get rid of these beasts," Matthew sighed; "they will finally betray us."

"We'll give them the slip soon enough, just as we did to their masters," Fred smiled; "wait."

The opportunity was soon granted them, for when suddenly a rabbit jumped out of the thicket, Fred sent them leaping after it, for he was well acquainted with the Indian way of hunting with dogs.

"Now we run straight forward, and the dogs will forget us and finally return to their masters."

They walked rapidly, and to their joy arrived after some time at the place where the log house had stood. While they had made no progress, they at least knew where they were, and could manage a way to reach Hartford.

"We must see whether our horses are still here," Fred said, as he hurried down the bank.

To his astonishment the horses were just coming out of the woods, feeding hungrily on the thick grass.

"Indians!" he muttered. But then he cried out with joy.

"Agnes!" he cried; "Agnes, you here?"

The girl, who had released the horses and was driving them out of their hiding place, smiled as she saw the boys.

"Brother," she said cheerfully, "Oh, what a surprise!" Then she fell around his neck and kissed him ardently.



CHAPTER XII

AGNES' STORY AND HARTFORD

"We must not stay," the girl said, as soon as she had greeted her brothers. "The Indians will surely come back, and we must reach the other side of the river. I am glad you are here. Oh, how good the Lord is! I prayed for your deliverance ever since I was captured, but did not believe that the good Lord would hear my prayers and grant my request so soon."

"What do you want to do?" asked Fred.

"Tie the horses together, and swim the river. There are no Indians on the other side, and we can make Hartford easily."

"How do you know that?" Matthew asked.

"Don't ask foolish questions," the girl pleaded; "help me get these horses roped together. Then I will leap into the river with the end of the rope tied to my saddle, and the horses must follow. You bring up the rear."

She was so resolute that the boys did not resist, but did her bidding.

"But where did you get that fine Indian pony?" Fred asked when the work was done.

"No questions, until we are on the other side," Agnes said; "that belonged to a Pequot chief once; now it is mine by right of spoils."

She mounted her pony and at once drove it into the stream; the other horses followed, urged on by the showers of blows which Fred and Matthew gave them. The crossing was dangerous, for the river was wide and the current swift. But after much struggling they got across and spurred their mounts up the bank.

"There is a trail that leads north," Agnes said; "let's find it. Loose the horses, and let me ride ahead."

"What a wonderful girl she is!" Matthew exclaimed; "she is a veritable leader."

Soon the boys heard the hooting of an owl, and they whipped their horses into a trot. Agnes had found the trail.

"Come now," she admonished them, "we must do some fast riding, until we are safe. Then I will tell you my story."

For two hours they rode in silence, Agnes taking the lead on her piebald pony which was a wonderful traveler in the woods, much more clever and docile than their own horses.

Sometimes the trail was hard to find, but the Indian pony followed his sense of smell and walked on and on.

"We are making good time, thanks to my pony," Agnes said jubilantly. "Come on with your steeds, gentlemen; don't mind it, if they are a little tired."

However, the horses were showing signs of fatigue, since they had not eaten for two days.

"Very well," Agnes said; "look!"

The river made a sweeping bend, and from the high bank they could see the fort.

"Hurrah!" Matthew cried; "how good it is to see the dwellings of white men."

"We shall rest now," Agnes suggested, "and allow the horses their meal. Look at my pony; isn't it a wonder? And it was gotten by just a little trick."

"Yes, tell us the story," Matthew begged.

"Not until the fire is burning, and the meat is cooking, and the horses are eating!" the girl said with a roguish smile.

Soon the log fire blazed brightly, and the horses were tied to ropes, enjoying the rest and the grazing abundantly.

"Where did you get that meat from?" Fred asked; "why, you have stacks of it."

"All Indian meat," the girl laughed; "spoils of war."

"Oh, tell us the story," Matthew asked again.

"Wait, until we are eating."

Afterwards, while they were sitting around the fire with the juicy meat stuck on bits of wood, and eating as if they had fasted for a week, Agnes told her story.

"You see," she began, "I ventured out very bravely, but I made the mistake which others made, and did not look out for the Indians."

"Your brother is guilty," Fred smiled; "the same fool head rests on us both. We are flesh of one flesh."

"Well," the girl went on; "the first thing I felt, were two arms around me, and then a band which pinned my hands together. A rude hand was thrust before my mouth, so that I could not cry out. The Indians then carried me up the bank, and brought me to the camp, where they quartered me with the women, quite comfortably, but nevertheless a prisoner."

"Just my story," Fred interposed, "only they did not trust me with the women."

"You don't belong there either," Agnes said; "they might have made you marry one of their number."

They all laughed while Fred shook his head.

"Never in my life," he affirmed.

"But where did the women come from?" Matthew queried. "I thought it was a scouting party, consisting only of men."

"That is true," Agnes explained; "but the scouting party was supplemented by other Indians from across the river. That is the reason why I urged you to cross the stream. The Indians are all over the other side, headed for the south where they are going to unite and attack the white men conjointly. I heard it all, for the women spoke about it, not knowing that I understood the Pequot language. It is always good to know many languages."

"That is true," Matthew agreed; "and if we get out of this, I am going to study all kinds of languages, until I am a regular Babel. That's the way."

"Go on with your story, Agnes," Fred urged her; "you just finished chapter one, and I am anxious to hear the rest. The reader is always looking for the climax."

"There is no climax to my story," Agnes smiled; "it is all the wonderful grace of God which freed me. You know, the women were very impolite. After I had been lying in the tent for some time, trying in vain to sleep, for the bands were cutting into my flesh and causing me much discomfiture, the women all left the tent and went out where a huge fire was burning and the men were eating. In fact, the men had eaten, for they were as impolite to their women, as these were to me. Well, the women went out to eat, and I thought that I ought to have some meat, too."

"So you stole away and got some," Fred interrupted. "That is just the way I acted."

"No, I did not," Agnes replied; "I was too firmly bound for getting away. But while I was thus lying in the tent, feeling miserable, suddenly a young Indian girl came in, who addressed me in the Pequot language. Talk about Indian ingratitude! When the war is over; I am going to locate right here, and start a huge Indian school, and invite them all to Sunday school every Sunday. Why, it pays wonderfully to teach the Indians religion!"

"That is what I believe," Matthew joined in; "I am going to be an Indian missionary like the good Pastor John Eliot. We must not destroy the Indians, but save them."

"That is true," Fred joined in; "and in order that you two missionaries may continue your work and not starve, I am going to build up the trading post again, and you shall be my guests as long as you live, and whatever expenses you have, I will repay."

"We shall hold you to your promise," Agnes replied, "shall we not, Matthew?"

"Not one word shall he have spoken in vain," Matthew said. "He must pay every cent. But now continue with your story."

"This good Indian girl," Agnes said, "had attended our Sunday school, and she was very grateful. Silently she cut my fetters and freed me. Then she told me to escape. It was not yet quite light, and so no one noticed me, as I lifted the rear part of the tent and crept through. But that was not all. My dear benefactress led me herself, and in order that I might not starve, she showed me the Indian kitchen, where large supplies of meat were kept, smoked sufficiently to keep it from spoiling. After I had taken all I could carry, she showed me where the horses were, and urged me to take the one belonging to the chief, since it was clever and gentle. At first I had compunctions of conscience, but no choice was left me, and I had to do it. I made a rude bridle of birch bark, and jumping on the horse, came here just a little before you."

"But what about the Indians?" the boys asked; "where did they go?"

"The girl told me," Agnes replied; "they were on their way west to join the other Indians, having received orders to come as soon as possible."

"Then we would have been safe on the other side!" Matthew stated. "Why was it necessary for us to cross? I am all wet from the task."

"There are many stray Indians on the other side," Agnes replied; "but, no doubt, they will soon be gone; the whites are gathering their forces together, and then they will strike a speedy blow. But now we had better move on."

They tied the horses together, and after a while found a place where they could cross the river. They arrived safely, much to the surprise of the settlers who had gathered at the fort, which was filled to its capacity so that the stockade had to be enlarged to accommodate the fleeing settlers that left their homes in haste when they heard of the hostilities of the Indians.

A number of outrages had been perpetrated already, and the pioneers were lashed into fury over the horrid tales which were related.

Our three friends were received with open arms; no one manifested greater surprise than John Rawlins, who had gotten as far as Hartford, where he was confined to his bed by a severe attack of rheumatism, which made him as helpless as a child. He had now recovered sufficiently to limp about, but he was still in a bad shape so that he could not be of much service to any one.

"Your presence here will make me well in a short time," he exclaimed joyfully as he embraced the children. "And I am sure you have a real story to tell."

But how great was his surprise when he learned from the children the war plan of the Indians. Why, that is real news, for which we have been looking all this while. We were all interested in what the Indians would do. Tomorrow you must go to good Captain Mason and relate to him what you know. That will greatly help him in freeing the country from the Indian pest.

"Yes, tomorrow," said Agnes; "for tonight we are too tired, and the matter does not press."

For the first time after a long, long trip they slept as white men do, in real beds, protected by American soldiers.



CHAPTER XIII

THE VICTORY OVER THE PEQUOTS

The next morning the children had occasion to meet Captain John Mason, that gallant Indian fighter, who was to suppress the Indian uprising. He was a trained soldier, and thoroughly understood the principles of warfare, not only among the whites, but also as these could be best applied to the Indians.

He was a rough and burly man, though kind to the helpless and weak. At present he was busy with reforming the Colonial methods of defense against the Indians.

So far the white men had failed to meet the Indians successfully because they were reluctant to adopt their war methods. The soldiers were heavily armed, cased in armor, and could therefore not accomplish anything against the red men who were light of foot, and easily got away from them. The white men moved slowly, and while they had redoubtable musketry, the Indians would not stand still, until their opponents got ready to shoot them. To load, aim, and fire was a tedious business, and the Indians with their swift movements and their reliable bows and arrows had much the advantage over the white troops who really were trained to fight only their fellow Europeans.

Captain Mason was anxious to change all this. Much of the heavy armor was discarded, and many of the fighting habits of the Indians were adopted. Every day the soldiers, together with the volunteer trappers and settlers, drilled and trained for the fight that would soon take place.

That something decisive had to be done to check the Indian outrages, was clear to all, and every man who could bear a gun was drafted into service. From Massachusetts even many volunteers appeared, and they were gladly received into service by Captain Mason.

Our three young friends found the Captain surrounded by his officers, as soon as he had learned that the children had an important message for him.

He delighted in hearing their stories, and when he was told that the Indians were massing their forces in the eastern part of the country, he at once had his plan ready.

"I am still expecting some troops," he said, "but as soon as these arrive, I shall march out to prevent our foes from getting too near the settlements. You boys, of course, will follow me, because you are well acquainted with the country and the ways of the Indians. Besides, you speak the Mohican and Pequot language, and that is worth a great deal. In the meanwhile, you shall be my personal guests, and whatever you need, shall be given you. You shall eat and sleep in the officers' tents."

Fred and Matthew at once joined the troops, and drilled with them. Among the soldiers they found many boys, who were not much older than they, and so they had good companions, with whom they romped, played, discussed warfare methods, and diverted themselves in a profitable manner in the few hours of leisure left to them.

Old John Rawlins could, of course, not take part in the work of the soldiers, but there was nevertheless much for him to do. His recovery was rapid, and while he still limped somewhat, he was of great assistance to the quartermaster in distributing and managing the supplies.

Agnes, who was a born missionary, soon found occasion to exert her talents. In the fort there were gathered not only men, but also women and children, and the latter she gathered into little groups and instructed them in the Bible. For this the mothers were very grateful, for the children now had something worthwhile to do, and quarrels and strifes were thus obviated. In short, everybody said that the three children proved themselves valuable to the inhabitants of the fort in many ways, and soon the topic of general conversation was nothing else than their varied and useful activity.

But the longer John Mason waited, the less could he repress the strong desire of his men to go and fight the Indians. News arrived every day of settlers captured and tortured to death, and the blood of the soldiers boiled with wrath as they heard of this.

So finally when October came, and the ground was frozen and covered with snow, the troops set out, led by faithful Mohican guides, to attack the Pequots in their own village. From a European point of view the army presented a pitiable appearance, being little more than a rabble of men. But they all burned with a desire to punish the Indians, and every one of them could handle his gun with precision.

Slowly and carefully the whites proceeded to the Indian village at Mystic, where the fierce Pequot chief Sassacus had gathered almost a thousand Indians, the majority of whom could fight.

The Indian village was well concealed in a huge swamp, and had not the ground been frozen, the white men could never have approached it. But the cold winter, of which usually the colonists stood in dread, now proved their best friend, for they could march over the hard ground with ease and reach the Indian village in spite of the swamp which surrounded it.

One day, at noon, it was reported to Captain Mason that they had almost reached the village of Mystic. The troops were gathered in the thick woods, in a little valley, which shut them off from the inquisitive eyes of the Pequot scouts. It was a cold, unpleasant day, and a fierce storm was raging, which drove the sharp, icy flakes into the faces of the men as they moved forward.

Hurriedly John Mason called together his officers and discussed with them the matter of attack. Both the officers and the men desired to go forward at once, since the Indian village was only about seven miles away.

"We can make that in two hours," one of the men said; "and there will be sufficient time left to punish the redskins thoroughly." To this all seemed to agree.

"And what do you think of the situation?" the Captain asked Fred. "Do you think we should attack right now?"

The eyes of all were turned upon the boy with eager expectancy, for not one had expected that so great a fighter as Mason should ask him for his advice.

Yet he answered briefly and truthfully.

"I would not do it, Captain," Fred said calmly; "if I were in command of the troops. Your men are worn out by the march, while the Indians are no doubt ready for an attack. Then, too, if the attack should fail, the night would intervene and disconcert us. My advice would be to give the troops a thorough rest, start out when darkness has set in, and attack the Pequot village toward the morning. This will not give them any time to gather their forces."

"That advice seems good to me," the Captain says; "I myself entertained similar thoughts. But pray, tell us more of the plan."

"We may start fires," Fred resumed, "since the storm rages and the woods hide the smoke. Also from the Indian village the smoke can not be seen, since it is closed in by trees. So the soldiers can thoroughly rest. When we attack I would supply a number of brave and enterprising men with burning fire brands. These will proceed to the village and set it on fire. The rest is a matter for all of us who fight."

The plan was adopted, and the march was not resumed until late at night. Just before daybreak the white men surrounded the slumbering village. Due to the severe storm the Indians had not even placed guards around the village, since they did not expect the enemy to attack them.

So it happened that the attack worked out successfully. Fred himself led those who carried the fire brands, and they succeeded in entering the palisaded village and setting it on fire. Eggleston in his "History of the United States and Its People" reports the battle, and says: "In the war which followed this attack, the whole Pequot tribe was broken up, and the other Indians were so terrified that New England had peace for many years after."

All this is true, for Eggleston is a fine historian, who always relates the events truthfully and accurately. Yet the matter was not as simple as all that. In fact, there was much marching and lighting and suffering, before peace was restored. Fred and Matthew took part in it, until all was ended, and the troops returned to the settlements. But they were heartily glad that the fight was over, for war was very distasteful to them, and their aim in life was not to be good soldiers and kill, but to be useful citizens who could serve both whites and Indians with the more blessed and valuable arts and pursuits of peace. How eager they were to accomplish these, will be learned from the last chapter of our story, in which we find our three young pioneers back at the trading post on the Connecticut River.



CHAPTER XIV

CHRISTMAS AT THE TRADING POST

Christmas Day is always a day of great joy and blessed peace.

Fred was glad that it could be celebrated in a peaceful manner, the only way which becomes this great peace day of the Prince of Peace.

Let us note how Fred with Matthew and Agnes, spent this day in glorifying their Lord.

The log house had been rebuilt, but it was much larger than the old one which the Indians had burned. In fact, it was a little fort with palisades surrounding it, for never again would they find themselves without the means of defense in a war with the Indians.

The main building was the trading post proper, which was twice as large as the old one and could accommodate all the furs and articles of trade which the increasing merchant ventures required. South of it on the bank of the river, with a wonderful view to the other side, stood a spacious dwelling house, consisting of two stories, very conveniently built. West of these two buildings stood a school, which Agnes intended for the Indian children that would return with their elders to their old haunts. In fact, even now some of the tribes had come back, very sorry for the war in which they had engaged. But not far up the river a settlement of white people had been made, and even now log houses were being built for the settlers. Agnes was anxious to have in her school also such white children as would come.

John Rawlins had superintended the erection of the fort, and as he was clever in making plans, he had done his work well.

"Shall we proceed with our Christmas program?" Agnes asked her brother; "the school is filled with people, and they are becoming impatient."

"No, let us wait," Fred replied; "our friends from Boston must be here any minute. They started early from Hartford this morning, and I expect them every moment, for it is almost noon."

To his great joy, he soon heard the barking of dogs, and as the children ran forward toward the trail, they heard the hoofs of horses stamping the hard ground.

"They are coming," Matthew cried.

In a short time the visitors were welcomed by the men, women, and children of the trading post. There were Mr. and Mrs. Bradley, who where anxious to see the children, a young Puritan pastor, who had recently come from England, and to whom the new settlement in the woods was assigned, and among other great and distinguished men, Captain John Mason, the hero of Mystic.

The joy of every one was great beyond words, and every one felt like talking, but Agnes urged them to come to the school, where the celebration was to take place.

We shall not enter into detail in describing the service, which was attended alike by white men and Indians. The new pastor preached a long and edifying sermon, and then Agnes with her class of little ones sang hymns about the little Lord Jesus and His wondrous love. Though the time was short, Agnes and Matthew had drilled the story of the nativity well, and the children answered promptly. The service lasted three hours. Then each child received a small gift, and the whole company was treated royally with a feast that all remembered for a long time after.

John Rawlins, clever and resourceful, had arranged this in his usual thorough way. For many days before he had sent out his trappers and hunters, and these brought huge supplies of game,—-turkeys, ducks, geese, partridges, bears, and what ever else could be found in the Connecticut woods, beautiful to behold and pleasant for food.

When finally the settlers and Indians had left, and darkness shrouded the woods, the children with their parents, John Rawlins, John Mason, and the new pastor gathered in the large living room of the new dwelling.

Here they related what had happened during the last months, and they united once more in giving thanks to the good Lord who doeth all things well.

They spoke also of the future.

"Now, you children must return to Boston," Mrs. Bradley said, "and never leave us again; for we miss you so much. The home seems dead to us since you left."

But the children demurred, very respectfully, but firmly.

"We shall always return to Boston and spend a number of weeks with you during the summer," Agnes said; "but this is our home, and you must promise to visit us often."

"And what will you do here?" Mr. Bradley asked.

"I will be a trapper and trader," Fred said proudly, "and will serve you faithfully und John Rawlins, so that Agnes and Matthew, who are not interested in this work, may have food and clothing."

"And I will be a school teacher," Agnes said, "and teach all the children that come, white or Indian, the blessed story of Jesus, besides other things. It is a noble calling, and one which deserves that many good children dedicate themselves to it with heart and soul."

"And I," Matthew finally said, "will study theology under our new pastor, until I, too, may preach and teach and win souls for Jesus."

There were tears in the eyes of all, even in those of the rough soldier John Mason.

"If our young people are thus minded," he said, "we shall have no fear for the future of our colonies. We shall become a strong and powerful nation."

"If our young people are thus minded," said old, genial John Rawlins, "we shall have a large city here in the woods some time, with plenty of happiness and peace and wealth."

"If you are thus minded," Mrs. Bradley finally said, "I shall die in peace and thank God eternally for having bestowed upon me such dear children. God bless you richly in time and eternity."

"And that is also my prayer," Mr. Bradley joined in, as he gathered his arms around the children and kissed them.

"Well, well," John Rawlins finally said, when no one knew exactly just what to say. "All day long I thought of something which would not come into my fool head, because we were so busy and happy. I never forgot it in England, but here my poor head is so addled that I am forgetful of even the most important thing.

"What is that?" they all asked.

"I forgot to wish you all a merry, merry Christmas," the old servant said, as he bowed himself out of the room to go to bed.

The End