Anxiety and terror pervaded all the defenceless hamlets.
DeVrees, rambling one day with his gun upon his shoulder, met an Indian "who was very drunk." Coming up to the patroon, the Indian patted him upon the shoulder, in token of friendship, saying, "You are a good chief.

When we come to see you, you give us milk to drink.

I have just come from Hackensack where they sold me brandy, and then stole my beaver skin coat.

I will take a bloody revenge.

I will go home for my bow and arrows, and shoot one of those rascally Dutchmen who have stolen my coat." DeVrees endeavored in vain to soothe him.