"Womern, don't be skeered o' us--we're friends--we're goin' to take ye hum," said Solomon.
The woman came out of the thicket with a little lad of four asleep in her arms.
"Where do ye live?" Solomon asked.
"Far south on the shore o' the Mohawk," she answered in a voice trembling with emotion.
"What's yer name?"
"I'm Bill Scott's wife," she answered.
"Cat's blood and gunpowder!" Solomon exclaimed. "I'm Sol Binkus."
She knelt before the old scout and kissed his knees and could not speak for the fulness of her heart. Solomon bent over and took the sleeping lad from her arms and held him against his breast.
"Don't feel bad. We're a-goin' to take keer o' you," said Solomon. "Ayes, sir, we be! They ain't nobody goin' to harm ye--nobody at all."
There was a note of tenderness in the voice of the man as he felt the chin of the little lad with his big thumb and finger.