cultivating their fields, and gathering
their harvests, and working at their mechanical avocations, was
dangerous and difficult to the settlers. One instance will serve as an
illustration. At the garrison-house of Thomas Dustin, the husband
of the far-famed Mary Dustin [who, while a captive of the Indians,
and maddened by the murder of her infant child, killed and scalped,
wit the assistance of a young boy, the entire band of her captors,
ten in number], the business of brick-making was carried on. The
pits where the clay was found were only a few rods from the house;
yet no man ventured to bring the clay to the yard within the
inclosure, without the attendance of a file of soldiers. An anecdote
relating to this garrison has been handed down to the present time.
Among its inmates were two young cousins, Joseph and Mary
Whittaker; the latter a merry, handsome girl, relieving the tedium of
garrison-duty with her light-hearted mirthfulness and--

"Making a sunshine in that shady place." [3]

Joseph, in the intervals of his labors in the double capacity of
brick-maker and man-at-arms, was assiduous in his attentions to his
fair cousin, who was not inclined to encourage him. Growing
desperate, he threatened one evening to throw himself into the
garrison well. His threat only called forth the laughter of his
mistress; and, bidding her farewell, he proceeded to put it in
execution. On reaching the well he stumbled over a log;
whereupon, animated by a happy idea, he dropped the wood into
the water instead of himself, and, hiding behind the curb, awaited
the result. Mary, who had been listening at the door, and who had
not believed her lover capable of so rash an act, heard the sudden
plunge of the wooden Joseph. She ran to the well, and, leaning
over the curb and peering down the dark opening, cried out, in
tones of anguish and remorse, "O Joseph, if you're in the land of the
living, I 'll have you!" "I 'll take ye at your word," answered
Joseph, springing up from his hiding-place and avenging himself for
her coyness and coldness by a hearty embrace.

Our own paternal ancestor, owing to religious scruples in the
matter of taking arms even for defence of life and property, refused
to leave his undefended house and enter the garrison. The Indians
frequently came to his house; and the family more than once in the
night heard them whispering under the windows, and saw them put
their copper faces to the glass