ined an expedition under Sullivan against the Six Nations, who had
been wreaking bloody vengeance on the frontiers of Pennsylvania and New
York. The Senecas had been the worst offenders, having spilled the
blood of every white family in their reach. Sullivan's expedition
ascended the Chemung branch of the Susquehanna and routed a great force
of Indians under Brant and Johnson at Newtown and crossed to the Valley
of the Genessee, destroying orchards, crops and villages. The red men
were slain and scattered. The fertile valley was turned into a
flaming, smoking hell. Simultaneously a force went up the Alleghany
and swept its shores with the besom of destruction.

Remembrance of the bold and growing iniquities of the savage was like a
fire in the heart of the white man. His blood boiled with anger. He
was without mercy. Like every reaping of the whirlwind this one had
been far more plentiful than the seed from which it sprang. Those
April days the power of the Indian was forever broken and his cup
filled with bitterness. Solomon had spoken the truth when he left the
Council Fire in the land of Kiodote:

"Hereafter the Injun will be a brother to the snake."

Jack and Solomon put their lives in danger by entering the last village
ahead of the army and warning its people to flee. The killing had made
them heart-sick, although they had ample reason for hating the red men.

In the absence of these able helpers Washington had moved to the
Highlands. This led the British General, Sir Henry Clinton, to decide
to block his return. So he sent a large force up the river and
captured the fort at Stony Point and King's Ferry connecting the great
road from the east with the middle states. The fort and ferry had to
be retaken, and, early in July, Jack and Solomon were sent to look the
ground over.

In the second day of their reconnoitering above Stony Point they came
suddenly upon a British outpost. They were discovered and pursued but
succeeded in eluding the enemy. Soon a large party began beating the
bush with hounds. Jack escaped by hiding behind a waterfall. Solomon
had a most remarkable adventure in making his way northward. Hearing
the dogs behind him he ran to the shore of a bay, where a big drive of
logs had been boomed in, and ran over them a good distance and dropped
out of sight. He lay between two big sections of a great pine with his
nose above water for an hour or so. A band of British came down to