I had just come into view of the first chimneys of Caughnawaga, and was riding by an empty waggon driven by an old man, when, very far away, I heard a gun-shot.
I drew bridle sharply and asked the man in the waggon if he also had heard it; but his waggon rattled and he had not. However, he also pulled up; and we stood still, listening.
Then, again, and softened by distance, came another gun-shot.
The old man thought it might be some farmer emptying his piece to clean it.
As he spoke, still far away along the river we heard several shots fired in rapid succession.
With that, the old man fetched a yell: "Durn-ding it!" he screeched, "if Sir John's in the Valley it ain't no place for my old woman and me!" And he lashed his horses with the reins, and drove at a crazy gallop toward the distant firing.
At the same moment I spurred Kaya, who bounded forward over the rise of land; and instantly I saw smoke in the sky beyond the Johnstown Road, and caught a glimpse of other fires in another direction, very near to where should stand the dwellings of Jim Davis and Sampson Sammons.
And now, seated by the roadside just ahead, I saw a young man whom I knew by sight, named Abe Veeder; and I pulled in my horse and called to him.
He would not move or notice me, and seemed distracted; so I spurred up to him and caught him by the shirt collar. At that he jumps up in a fright, and: