A mo the woods; while the little girls, bewildered with horror, gathered around the dead body of their teacher and gazed in speechless fright at the terrible scene. ment more and the attention of the savages would be directed from the boys to them. In this dread emergency, a tall, powerful Indian came along, and with a brush hurriedly dashed some black paint on their aprons, telling them to "Hold up the mark when they saw an Indian coming, and it would save them;" then with a yell or warwhoop he disappeared in the woods. The tall Indian was none other than Brandt, and the children were safe. When the girls saw the Indians coming they held up their aprons with the black mark, and were not disturbed. An idea suggested itself to them, and with woman's wit they quickly adopted it. The boys were called from their hiding places, and the girls pressed the black mark upon their outer garments. It left a distinct impression, and this the boys held to view when the Indians passed, with a like happy effect. Mrs. Sarah Van Auken did not succeed in getting within the protection of the fort, and saved her life by creeping into an old ditch. (Eager's History, p. 390.) During this incursion the Indians and Tories burned everything that came in their way-houses, barns, granaries and goods-in short, all that the flames could destroy. Those of the inhabitants who could not get to the forts in time to escape the fury of the savages, fled through the forest to Goshen, and the settlements east of the Shawangunk. Benjamin Whittaker and family, who after their escape from the Wyoming Massacre, had settled on the Delaware, were again forced to flee for safety. His daughter Mary, according to Eager, hid herself among the straw in an old potato hole and thus escaped, though the Indians came searching for her, and stood on the boards, so near her that she could have touched their feet with her hands. Major Decker's wife escaped through the woods to Mr. James Finch's, the present site of Finchville, where she came leading her small children by the hand, with hardly clothes enough to cover their backs, and weeping piteously. The only article she saved of her household goods was a small bible which she carried under her arm. The enemy after completing the work of destruction and plunder fell back slowly on their line of retreat. They were confident that in point of numbers the settlers could not bring a force to compete with them under a week or ten days; their own force numbering, according to Dr. Wilson, three hundred Indian warriors and two hundred Tories painted to resemble Indians. Other accounts place their numbers at one hundred and eighty, and one or two as low as one hundred and sixty. Be this as it may, they were sufficiently confident to proceed leisurley on their return, and on the evening of the 21st encamped at Half-way Brook. CHAPTER IX. THE BATTLE OF MINISINK. Intelligence of the ravages of Brandt's band of savages was brought to Goshen on the evening of the 20th, the same day of their invasion. The public mind was greatly excited by the tidings. At the reports of their barbarous murders, which were doubtless much exaggerated by the panic stricken fugitives, work of all kinds was abandoned and the men gathered together in groups, each proposing plans for punishing the enemy, which were as absurd as impracticable. The children left their play and listened eagerly to the fearful tales told by older persons of the doings of the foe, while many a matron's face blanched with terror at the name of Brandt, whose ferocities at Wyoming and Cherry Valley were still fresh in their memory. One man amidst the confusion acted with promptness and decision. This was Col. Benjamin Tusten, commander of the local militia in the Goshen neighborhood. He at once dispatched messengers to the officers of his regiment, with orders to rendezvous at the "lower neighborhood" in Minisink the next morning, with as many volunteers as they could raise. Word was also sent to Col. Hathorn, commander of the Warwick regiment of militia, to meet him at the same place. We may well suppose that many a volunteer passed a 158026 sleepless night in common with the affrighted families of Goshen, on that momentous night of the 20th of July, 1779. The dawn of the next morning witnessed the departure of many of the bravest citizens east of the Shawangunk mountain, numbers of them heads of families, eager to revenge the massacre of their friends by coping with the dreaded foe, but little aware that the direful visions of disaster and woe that had flitted before their wakeful eyes during the long hours of the previous night were soon to be realized; little aware that the tearful "good-bye" of the dear ones at home, was a farewell that would last till they met beyond the veil that conceals the confines of eternity from our view. "Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; If ever more should meet, those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet, such awful morn could rise." At a seasonable hour that morning, one hundred and forty-nine men assembled at Minisink and placed themselves under command of Col. Tusten. A council was immediately held to decide upon a plan of action. The majority were in favor of instant pursuit. But here the good sense of Col. Tusten interposed for the success of his little army. He reminded them that the enemy far outnumbered them, was accompanied by Tories who were better acquainted with the ground than they, and commanded by Col. Brandt, whose previous expeditions had proved his cunning and generalship-while they lacked ammunition, and were few in number compared with the foe. He proposed that they should wait where they were for reinforcements and ammuniton which would be with them in a short time. The majority were deaf to these proposals. They affected to consider the Indians cowardly, and were for pursuing them at once and retaking their plunder. In the midst of the debate, one Major Meeker mounted his horse, and flourishing his sword with a braggadocio air, cried out, "Let the brave men follow me; the cowards may stay behind." The effect may well be imagined, for this is not the only instance where bravado has drowned the voice of judgment and sense. The question was decided, and the entire party took its line of march over the old Kathleghton path, the trail of the retreating savages. Seventeen miles was accomplished the same afternoon, and the pursuers then encamped for the night at a place known as Skinner's Saw Mills. The next morning (the 22d) they were joined by Col. Hathorn of the Warwick regiment, with a small reinforcement. The command was then taken by Col. Hathorn, he being an older officer than Col. Tusten. They then marched a few miles to Half-way Brook, and there came across the place where the Indians had encamped the preceding night. Another council was then held, and though Col. Tusten proved to them that they were outnumbered, by the number and extent of the camp fires that had dotted the enemy's camping ground, the same bravado that had ruled the day previous gained the decision, and the line of march was again taken up. Col. Tyler, who was best informed of the forest, was sent ahead with a small scouting party, as it was evident the foe was but a short distance in advance. He had gone but a little way however, before he fell into an ambuscade and was killed. This timely warning, says Dawson, fell unnoticed upon the reckless mass that followed. |