They spoke of the Brimsteads and thought it strange that they had not come along.
On the twenty-ninth day after their journey began they came in sight of the beautiful green valley of the Mohawk.

As they looked from the hills they saw the roof of the forest dipping down to the river shores and stretching far to the east and west and broken, here and there, by small clearings.

Soon they could see the smoke and spires of the thriving village of Utica..