And now he has come to us for food and protection.

Is it not pitiful ?" I had a hard dollar in my pouch, and went to him and offered it.

Boyd had Continental money, and gave him a handful.
He was not very feeble, this ancient creature, yet, except among Indians who live sometimes for more than a hundred years, I think I never before saw such an aged visage, all cracked into a thousand wrinkles, and his little, bluish eyes peering out at us through a sort of film.
To smile, he displayed his shrivelled gums, then picked up his fiddle with an agility somewhat surprising, and drew the bow harshly, saying in his cracked voice that he would, to oblige us, sing for us a ballad made in 1690; and that he himself had ridden in the company of horse therein described, being at that time thirteen years of age.
And Lord! But it was a doleful ballad, yet our soldiers listened, fascinated, to his squeaking voice and fiddle; and I saw the tears standing in Lois's eyes, and Lana's lips a-quiver.

As for Boyd, he yawned, and I most devoutly wished us all elsewhere, yet lost no word of his distressing tale: "God prosper long our King and Queen, Our lives and safeties all; A sad misfortune once there did Schenectady befall.
"From forth the woods of Canady The Frenchmen tooke their way, The people of Schenectady To captivate and slay.
"They march for two and twenty daies, All thro' ye deepest snow; And on a dismal winter night They strucke ye cruel blow.
"The lightsome sunne that rules the day Had gone down in the West; And eke the drowsie villagers Had sought and found their reste.
"They thought they were in safetie all, Nor dreamt not of the foe; But att midnight they all swoke In wonderment and woe.
"For they were in their pleasant beddes, And soundlie sleeping, when Each door was sudden open broke By six or seven menne! "The menne and women, younge and olde, And eke the girls and boys, All started up in great affright Att the alarming noise.
"They then were murthered in their beddes Without shame or remorse; And soon the floors and streets were strew'd With many a bleeding corse.
"The village soon began to blaze, Which shew'd the horrid sight; But, O, I scarce can beare to tell The mis'ries of that night.
"They threw the infants in the fire, The menne they did not spare; But killed all which they could find, Tho' aged or tho' fair.
.

.