with Jenny on horseback, proceeded by another path through the woods.  The negro boy having alarmed the garrison at the fort, a detachment was sent out to effect a rescue.  They fired several volleys at the party of Indians; and the Indians said that a bullet intended for them mortally wounded Jenny, and she fell from her horse; and that they then stripped her of her clothing and scalped her, that they might obtain the reward offered for those things by Burgoyne.

“Mrs. M’Niel said that the Indians who were hurrying her along seemed to watch the flash of the guns, and fell down upon their faces, dragging her down with them.  When they got beyond the reach of the firing, the Indians stript the old lady of everything except her chemise, and in that plight carried her into the British camp.  There she met her kinsman, General Frazer, who endeavored to make her due reparation for what she had endured.  Soon after, the Indians who had been left to bring Jenny arrived with some scalps, and Mrs. M’Niel immediately recognised the long bright hair of the poor girl who had been murdered.  She charged the savages with the crime, but they denied it, and explained the manner of her death.  Mrs. M’Niel was compelled to believe their story, as she knew it was more to the interest of the Indians to bring in a prisoner than a scalp.

“It being known in camp that Lieutenant Jones was betrothed to Jenny, some lively imagination invented the story that he had sent the Indians to bring her to camp, and that they quarrelled, and one of them scalped her.  This story seemed to be confirmed by General Gates’ letter to Burgoyne, and soon spread all over the country, making the people more exasperated against the British than ever.  Young Jones was horror-stricken by the death of his betrothed, and immediately offered to resign his commission, but they would not allow him.  He bought Jenny’s scalp, and then, with his brother, deserted, and fled to Canada.”

“Did you ever hear what became of him?” enquired Mrs. Harmar.

“Yes; he was living in Canada the last time I heard of him,” replied Morton.  “He never married; and, from being a lively, talkative fellow, he became silent and melancholy.”

“Poor fellow!  It was enough to make a man silent and melancholy,” remarked young Harmar.  “I can imagine how I would have felt if deprived of her I loved, in as tragical a manner.”  “Don’t—­don’t mention it, my dear!” exclaimed his wife, sensibly affected at the thought of her being scalped.

“It was a horrible transaction,” remarked Wilson; “and it had a stirring effect upon our people.  I can recollect when I first heard the story with all its embellishments; I felt as if I could have eaten up all the red varmints I should chance to meet.”

“General Gates’s version of the affair answered a good purpose,” said Higgins.  “It roused our people to great exertions to defeat the designs of a government which employed those savages.”