ry
was a waste.

A strong fence had been built across the island, to keep what cattle
remained within bounds. This fence marked the extreme limit of the
settlement of New Amsterdam. The fence in time gave place to a wall, and
when in still later years the wall was demolished and a street laid out
where it had been, the thoroughfare was called Wall Street, and remains
so to this day.

While the entire province was in a very bad way, and the people
suffering on every side, Governor Kieft sent to the West India Company
in Holland _his_ version of the war. He showed himself to be all in the
right, and proved, to his own satisfaction, that the province was in a
fairly good condition; though during all the years he had been Governor
he had not once left the settlement on the Island of Manhattan to look
after other parts.

Certain of the colonists also sent a report to Holland. Theirs being
much nearer the truth, carried such weight with it, that the West India
Company decided on the immediate recall of Governor Kieft, who had done
so much injury to the colony, and had shown himself to be utterly
incapable of governing.

Kieft returned to Holland in a ship that was packed from stem to stern
with the finest of furs. The ship was wrecked at sea. Kieft was drowned,
and the furs were lost.

In the same ship was Everardus Bogardus (the minister who had married
Annetje Jans), who was on his way to Holland on a mission relating to
his church. The people of New Amsterdam mourned for their minister, but
there was little sorrow felt for the Governor who had plunged the colony
in war by his obstinate and cruel temper.

[Illustration: Smoking the Pipe of Peace.]

CHAPTER VI

PETER STUYVESANT, the LAST of the DUTCH GOVERNORS

It was a gay day for the little colony of New Amsterdam, that May
morning in the year 1647, when a one-legged man landed at the lower part
of the island, and stumped his way up the path that led to the fort. Not
only everyone that lived in the town gathered there, but everyone on the
island, and many from more distant parts. There were Indians, too, who
walked sedately, their quiet serenity in strange contrast to the
colonists, who yelled and shouted for joy, and clapped their hands at
every salute from the guns. And when the fort was reached (it was only
a few steps from the river-bank) the man with the wooden leg turned to
those who followed him. The guns were silent, and the people stood
still.