George wrinkled his forehead. "Now let me think; yes—there's where it occurred," he said. "But wait; I have got to think how it all happened."
"Don't try, brother George," said Grace. "Wait until another day."
"No, I must tell it now. Where was I?"
"You were telling about Lyons Farms," said his sister.
"Oh yes! I found an old sledge in a shed much like the one that my good friend Wissinck had driven me in from Paulus Hook. Although old Molly was very tired, I harnessed her up and put the children—there were four of them—in a feather-bed, and drove across the hill. I stopped at the first house that I came across, and found two old women there. You should have heard their stories! The Hessians have been worse than Indians; you would hardly believe it.—But enough. I left the children there with the two old women, and pushed along as best I could three or four miles further. Here I came upon the remains of a camp-fire by the road-side, and was glad enough to find the remnants of a meal in the kettle that hung over the smouldering fire. It had been left hurriedly.
"That night I slept in a farm-house in the mountains. The poor old mare was so tired by this time that I determined to make the rest of the trip on foot, and left her in the care of the old farmer, who promised to return her. I shall never forget how I suffered all that day. If it had not been for two rough snow-shoes that I had made out of the staves of a molasses hogshead, I could not have gotten through the snow at all." He paused. "Now comes the part that leads up to my forgetting."
George had seemed to gather strength as he went on with the recital. He now sat up straighter, and the color came to his pale cheeks.
"I had almost feared I had lost my way when I saw the trunk of a shattered pine—the one that was struck by lightning, you remember—then I knew that I was only six miles from home. I was weak and faint, for I had had nothing to eat but a frozen potato all that day. I soon came to the cross-roads where the path winds across the ridge. It was a short-cut, and I took it. The bushes interfered with my rough snow-shoes, and I discarded them and plunged through the snow. When I came to the hollow by the old Camel rock, I smelt smoke quite distinctly.—It is here, you know, that the path joins the road again.—As I pushed through the short pines the smoke became stronger, and all at once I found myself face to face with a group of men seated about a fire. Two or three horses were tethered to the trees, and the men were all armed.
"'God save our country!' I exclaimed—for the idea that there were English so close about seemed impossible.
"'God save ourselves!' said one of the men, with a laugh.