ered a great
deal from the rascals--they did. Those in Tryon county, especially, were
always exposed to the attacks of the savages. I recollect an affair that
occurred at a settlement called Shell's Bush, about five miles from
Herkimer village.

"A wealthy German, named John Shell, had built a block-house of his
own. It was two stories high, and built so as to let those inside fire
straight down on the assailants. One afternoon in August, while the
people of the settlement were generally in the fields at work, a
Scotchman named M'Donald, with about sixty Indians and tories, made an
attack on Shell's Bush. Most of the people fled to Fort Dayton, but
Shell and his family took refuge in the block-house. The father and two
sons were at work in the field when the alarm was given. The sons were
captured, but the father succeeded in reaching the block-house, which
was then besieged. Old Shell had six sons with him, and his wife loaded
the muskets, which were discharged with sure aim. This little garrison
kept their foes at a distance. M'Donald tried to burn the block-house,
but did not succeed. Furious at the prospect of being disappointed
of his expected prey, he seized a crowbar, ran up to the door, and
attempted to force it; but old Shell fired and shot him in the leg, and
then instantly opened the door and made him a prisoner. M'Donald was
well supplied with cartridges, and these he was compelled to surrender
to the garrison. The battle was now hushed for a time; and Shell,
knowing that the enemy would not attempt to burn the house while their
captain was in it, went into the second story, and began to sing the
favorite hymn of Martin Luther, when surrounded with the perils he
encountered in his controversy with the Pope."

"That was cool," remarked Higgins.

"Bravely cool," added old Harmar.

"Oh, it was necessary to be cool and brave in those times," said Morton.
"But to go on with my story; the respite was very short. The tories and
Indians were exasperated at the successful resistance of the garrison,
and rushed up to the block-house. Five of them thrust the muzzles of
their pieces through the loop-holes; but Mrs. Shell seized an axe, and,
with well-directed blows, ruined every musket by bending the barrels. At
the same time, Shell and his sons kept up a brisk fire, and drove the
enemy off. About twilight, the old man went up stairs, and called out in
a loud voice to his wife, that Captain Small was approaching fro