om which the reports of guns continually
came.

I have not the space here to tell you of the wonderful escapes at
Wyoming, the particulars of which I have given in another work.

One boy, who was with several men near Fort Jenkins before the battle,
saw all the men shot down or captured; but he hid himself among some
willows and was not noticed.

If you ever visit the scene of the battle, you will notice a broad, flat
stone, called Queen Esther's Rock, a half dozen miles below Wilkesbarre.
Queen Esther was an old, cruel, half breed woman who came with the
Indians. She is sometimes known as Katharine Montour. A son of hers
was killed in the conflict, and she was so angered that she had sixteen
captives placed around the rock, and meant to slay them all, while the
warriors prevented them from escaping.

Nevertheless two of the young men jumped up and started on a run for
the river. The guards dashed after them. One caught his toe, and rolled
headlong down the bank into some bushes. Instead of springing up again,
as he first started to do, he lay still, and though the Indians almost
stepped upon him, he was not discovered, and got off without harm.

The other reached the river, took a running leap and dived, and swam
under water as far as he could. When he came up to breathe, the waiting
red men fired at him again and again. He was wounded, but not badly,
and, reaching the other side, caught a stray horse, made a bridle from a
hickory withe, and soon joined his friend.

Another fugitive, after running until he was so tired out he could
hardly stand, and hearing the Indians near, backed into a hollow log
and awaited his fate. He had been in the hollow but a few minutes when
a spider spun its web across the entrance. A few minutes later, two
warriors sat down on the log. They noticed how good a hiding place it
would be for the white man, and one of them leaned over to peep in. As
he did so, he saw the spider web. He was sure that it would not be there
if the man was inside, and did not search further. When the warriors
left, the man crawled out and got safely away.

You know that the home of the Ripleys was on the eastern shore, which
they left that same morning. They had crossed over in a large flatboat
with a number of other families, so that now they were near their own
home again. Omas had guided the canoe, too, so they landed not far from
the little structure.

"Omas," said the mother, "I understand you wish us