Mistress Lear, and she has brought Henry with
her," he cried excitedly.

Susanna hurried up the bank to carry the news. She was a sturdy girl of
eighteen, with neither home nor people. The little group at the
settlement took care of her, and she gratefully served them all.

Hearing of the arrival, Mistress Tozer hurried to the shore, bidding
Susanna notify the few neighbors and invite them all to her home for the
day. Spinning, weaving, and other household cares were always pushed
aside for such an occasion as a visit.

"And may we keep her for days, Jacob?" Mrs. Tozer asked anxiously of Mr.
Lear, who was then pushing off his boat.

"Just an over-night trip," he called. "I'm on my way to Dover and will
come around for her on my return."

Already the good-wives, with knitting in hand, were gathering to greet
Mistress Lear. Some fifteen or more, including the children, were soon
settled about the Tozer fireplace, eager to learn of the happenings in
Portsmouth.

"How dared you come so far, Mistress Lear, when the Indians are
committing such terrible deeds? Since King Philip has stirred up the
creatures in Massachusetts, even the settlements of Maine have felt their
treachery."

By this time Susanna had caught the winks and nods of Toby and Henry, who
were tired of sitting primly on the settle.

"Shall I draw you a bucket of water, Mistress Tozer?" asked Susanna, as
eager as the boys for an excuse to get out to the open. She glanced at
the boys, who followed to help her. Secretly she held the fear of an
Indian attack and, for days, had been keeping watch over the river.

"My great-grandfather, Ambrose Gibbons, dug this well!" exclaimed Henry,
knowingly, as Susanna let down the bucket. "His little girl, Becky
Gibbons, was my grandmother, and she traded some corn for a beaver skin
with the Indians."

Since Susanna and Toby seemed interested, Henry continued his story as
they turned to the shore. "Almost all the Indians were friendly in those
days," he added.

"But they are not now," replied Susanna. Her alert eye, at that moment,
had caught a distant movement of paddles on the water. As a nearer view
brought the dreaded Indians to sight, she cried, "Run for your lives,
boys!"

The frightful feathered savages were gliding straight toward the point.

The two children made a mad dash for the house. Susanna, ahead, broke
into the peaceful group gathered there.

"Indians! Run! Out the back door, over the fence to