No house of worship, with spire and tower, and decorated pulpit, had as yet been reared on the banks of the Merrimac.

The stern settlers came together under the open heavens, or beneath the shadow of the old trees, to kneel before that God, whose works and manifestations were around them.
The exercises of the Sabhath commenced.

A psalm of the old and homely version was sung, with true feeling, if not with a perfect regard to musical effect and harmony.

The brief but fervent prayer was offered, and the good man had just announced the text for his sermon, when a sudden tramp of feet, and a confused murmur of human voices, fell on the ears of the assembly.
The minister closed his Bible; and the whole group crowded closer together.

"It is surely a war party of the heathen," said Mr.Ward, as he listened intently to the approaching sound.