th so much dread, that they mutually resolved to make a
desperate attempt to escape.

Mrs. Hannah Dustin, Mrs. Mary Neff the nurse, and the lad Samuel
Leonardson, only eleven years of age, were certainly not persons to
excite the fear of a dozen sturdy warriors. The Indians believed the lad
faithful to them, and never dreamed that the women would have courage
enough to attempt to escape, and no strict watch was kept over them.

In order to throw the savage captors off their guard, Mrs. Dustin seemed
to take well to them, and on the day before the plan of escape was
carried out, she ascertained, through inquiries made by the lad, how to
kill a man instantly and how to take off his scalp.

"Strike him here," the Indian explained, placing his finger on his
temple, "and take off his scalp so," showing the lad how it was done.
With this information, the plot was ripe. Just before dawn of day, when
the Indians sleep most profound, Mrs. Dustin softly rose from her bed of
earth and touched Mary Neff on the shoulder. A single touch was
sufficient to awake her, and she sat up. Next the lad had to be aroused.
Being young and wearied, his slumbers were profound. An Indian lay near
asleep. Mrs. Dustin seized his tomahawk, and Mrs. Neff seized another
Indian's weapons. The nurse shook Samuel. The lad rose, rubbed his eyes
and went over to where the man lay, who had instructed him in the art of
killing. He seized his hatchet and held it in his hand ready. At a
signal from Mrs. Dustin, three blows fell on three temples, and with a
quiver three sleepers in life had passed to the sleep of death. Once
more the hatchets were raised, and six of the twelve were dead. The
little noise they were compelled to make disturbed the slumbers of the
others, and the three hatchets, now red with blood, fell on three more.
Mrs. Neff, growing nervous and excited, cut her man's head a little too
far forward, and he started up with a yell. The blood blinded him,
however, and she stabbed him.

The yell had roused the others, and a squaw with a child fled to the
woods, while the tenth, a young warrior, was assailed by Mrs. Dustin and
the lad and slain ere he was fully awake. Ten of the twelve were dead,
and the escaped prisoners, after scuttling all the boats save one, to
prevent pursuit, started in that down the river, with what provisions
they could take from the Indians. They had not gone far, when Mrs.
Dustin said:

"We have not scalped the Indians.