ent, although, as I have said, we knew nothing about
it until many months afterward.

It seems, as we learned later, that the villainous Brant had made all his
plans for an attack upon Cherry Valley, and had secretly gained a position
on the hill to the eastward of the place, counting on waiting there until
nightfall, when he might surprise us; but, much to his astonishment, he
saw what appeared from the distance to be a large body of well-equipped
soldiers evidently making ready for serious work.

The scoundrelly redskin was not so brave that he was willing to make an
attack where it seemed that the Whigs were prepared to receive him, and,
like the cur that he was, he marched his force to a hiding-place in a deep
ravine north of the settlement, near the road leading to the Mohawk River,
about a mile and a half from where we were drilling.

Now hardly more than an hour before it is probable that the Indians got
their first glimpse of us Minute Boys, Lieutenant Wormwood had arrived
from Fort Plain with information to my uncle that a force of patriot
soldiers was on the way to check Sir John's plans for killing all who did
not quite agree with him in politics, and to request that arrangements be
made to care for the men during such time as they might remain in that
vicinity.

When, late in the afternoon, the lieutenant was ready to return to Fort
Plain, Jacob's father, Peter Sitz, was ordered to accompany him as bearer
of a message from my uncle to the leader of the patriot force, and the two
men set off on horseback, we lads envying them because it seemed a fine
thing to ride to and fro over the country summoning this man or that to
his duty.

It was the last time Jacob saw his father until after many days had
passed, and what happened to the two horsemen we could only guess when the
lieutenant's lifeless body was found next day; but we learned the
particulars later.

It seems that when the messengers arrived near Brant's hiding-place, being
forced to pass by where the Indians were concealed in order to get to Fort
Plain, they were hailed by some one in the thicket; but instead of
replying, the men put spurs to their horses.

The savages in ambush fired a volley; Lieutenant Wormwood was killed
instantly, while Jacob's father was so seriously wounded that he fell from
his horse, and, a few seconds later, found himself a prisoner among
Brant's wolves.

When the tidings of this tragedy was brought into the settleme