"Another point is to be taken into consideration. The enemy were much
superior in numbers," said Colson.

"Of course; that's very important," replied Ranson.

"I suppose there was little mercy shown by either party. There was too
much hateful fury," said Hand.

"You're right," remarked Colson. "Few tories received quarters from the
militia, and fewer of the militia asked it of the tories."

"Herkimer should have been more cautious. Though a brave soldier, we
cannot consider him a good commander," said Pitts.

"Nay, I think he was a good commander, friend Pitts," replied Hanson.
"He was cool-headed and skilful in the hottest battle; and because he
neglected sending out scouts on one occasion, you should not conclude
that imprudence was part of his character."

"But a commander, acquainted with Indian warfare, as Herkimer was, must
be considered imprudent if he neglects such a common precaution as
sending out scouts," observed Kinnison.

CONCLUSION.

"Well, we won't argue the matter now. It's getting late, and we had
better break our company," said Warner.

"But first we'll have a toast and a song," replied Hand. "Fill your
glasses, friends. Heaven knows if we may ever meet again; and your
company has been too amusing and instructive for us to part suddenly."

"The ale has made me feel very drowsy," said Kinnison.

"But you may sip our toast. Gentlemen, this is the Fourth of July; and
surely it becomes us, as Americans, to toast the memory of the men who,
on this day, pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred
honors for the support of our independence. I therefore propose, 'The
memory of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence. May the
brightness of their fame endure as long as patriotism and the love of
freedom burn in the breasts of mankind!'" exclaimed Hand. This was drunk
standing, and a short silence ensued.

Hand now proposed that they should have a song, and remarked that he
knew one appropriate to the occasion, which he would sing, if the old
soldiers were not too weary to listen. Of course, they expressed it to
be their pleasure that he should sing it, and he proceeded. "The song,"
said he, "is called 'The Last Revolutionary.'" The words were as
follows:--

O! where are they--those iron men,
Who braved the battle's storm of fire,
When war's wild halo fill'd the glen,
And lit each humble village spire;
When hill sent back the sound to hill,