to
comfort or help me."

"...Fearing the worst, I durst not send to my husband, though
there were some thoughts of his coming to redeem and fetch me,
not knowing what might follow...."

"The Lord preserved us in safety that night, and raised us up
again in the morning, and carried us along, that before noon we
came to Concord. Now was I full of joy and yet not without
sorrow: joy, to see such a lovely sight, so many Christians
together; and some of them my neighbors. There I met with my
brother, and brother-in-law, who asked me if I knew where his
wife was. Poor heart! he had helped to bury her and knew it not;
she, being shot down by the house, was partly burned, so that
those who were at Boston ... who came back afterward and buried
the dead, did not know her.... Being recruited with food and
rainment, we went to Boston that day, where I met with my dear
husband; but the thoughts of our dear children, one being dead,
and the other we could not tell where, abated our comfort in each
other...."

And here is the brief story of the return of her daughter: "She was
travelling one day with the Indians, with her basket on her back; the
company of Indians were got before her and gone out of sight, all except
one squaw. She followed the squaw till night, and then both of them lay
down, having nothing over them but the heavens, nor under them but the
earth. Thus she traveled three days together, having nothing to eat or
drink but water and green whortle-berries. At last they came into
Providence, where she was kindly entertained by several of that town....
The Lord make us a blessing indeed to each other. Thus hath the Lord
brought me and mine out of the horrible pit, and hath set us in the
midst of tender-hearted and compassionate Christians. 'Tis the desire of
my soul that we may walk worthy of the mercies received, and which we
are receiving."

This carrying away of white children occurred with surprising frequency,
and we of a later generation can but wonder that their parents did not
wreak more terrific vengeance upon the red man than is recorded even in
the bloodiest pages of our early history. In 1755, after the close of
the war with Pontiac, a meeting took place in the orchard of the
Schuyler homestead at Albany, where many of such kidnapped children were
returned to their parents and relatives. Perhaps we can comprehend some