, as to whose prize she was, and who
was entitled to the reward. The dispute became furious, and one, in a
paroxysm of rage, killed her on the spot. He completed the savage act
by bearing off her scalp as a trophy.

General Burgoyne was struck with horror when he heard of this bloody
deed. He summoned a council of the Indian chiefs, in which he insisted
that the murderer of Miss McCrea should be given up to receive the
reward of his crime. The demand produced a violent agitation. The
culprit was a great warrior, a chief, and the "wild honor" of his
brother sachems was roused in his behalf. St. Luc took Burgoyne aside
and entreated him not to push the matter to extremities, assuring him
that from what was passing among the chiefs, he was sure they and
their warriors would all abandon the army should the delinquent be
executed. Burgoyne was thus reluctantly brought to spare the offender,
but thenceforth made it a rule that no party of Indians should be
permitted to go forth on a foray unless under the conduct of a British
officer, or some other competent person who should be responsible for
their behavior.{1}

{Footnote 1: [These restrictions led to ill-humor among the Indians
who soon announced their intention of returning home, unless the
restraints imposed by Burgoyne were withdrawn. Burgoyne was greatly
embarrassed. The Indian force was valuable and obtained at an immense
expense. But to his great credit he refused their demands, and the
result was that the greater part of his Indian allies deserted him.]}

The mischief to the British cause, however, had been effected. The
murder of Miss McCrea resounded throughout the land, counteracting all
the benefit anticipated from the terror of Indian hostilities. Those
people of the frontiers who had hitherto remained quiet, now flew to
arms to defend their families and firesides. In their exasperation
they looked beyond the savages to their employers. They abhorred an
army which, professing to be civilized, could league itself with such
barbarians; and they execrated a government which, pretending to
reclaim them as subjects, could let loose such fiends to desolate
their homes. The blood of this unfortunate girl, therefore, was not
shed in vain. Armies sprang up from it. Her name passed as a note of
alarm along the banks of the Hudson; it was a rallying word among the
Green Mountains of Vermont and brought down all their hardy yeomanry.

As Burgoyne advanced to Fort Edwar