And so these men, Mr. Fuller and Capt.  Somers, shouldered their tools, and pursued their way by the spotted trees, to the far off settlement, leaving their families in the bosom of the forest, unprotected and alone.  Not infrequently did the crackling brush denote the near approach of the sulky bear, or some other wild beast that had heretofore roamed the woods at large, undisturbed, save by the swift-winged arrow of the Indian, as he pursued his prey over the dense forest, but little tamer than the hunted beast.  A discharge of the rifle, which they were ever obliged to carry with them, soon caused the enemy to retreat, and leave them to pursue their solitary walk unmolested.

Often would the Indians come along in droves, their small dogs indicating their approach.  The chief of one tribe was called Sousup.  His wife was a woman of pleasant countenance, and was usually very neatly dressed, having her blanket of snowy whiteness, while her moccasins were of the nicest material.  She was covered with wampum, and wore large jewels in her ears and nose, and large silver brooches on different parts of her dress.  She never drank the fire-water, and used to trade with the pale faces, as she was so gentle in her manners that she easily won her way into their houses and hearts.

It was sunset, when Mrs. Fuller had milked her cows, and performed the domestic duties that devolved upon her during her husband’s absence.  She had laid her sleeping infant from her arms, and her other children were placed snugly in bed, when she was startled by seeing an Indian’s dog emerging from a clump of bushes that stood a few yards from the house, and come bounding towards the door.

Her heart palpitated violently, for frequent reports reached their ears, of whole families falling a fearful prey to savage brutality.  Soon she heard the Indian dialect vociferated in loud voices, while occasionally a loud savage yell rang fearfully through the air, blending a wild chorus with the strains of the warbling birds, as they carolled their vesper hymns upon the neighboring branches, before retiring to their nests.  Hastily she closed her doors, and skulked away in a secret corner, hoping they would pass on, and not disturb her.  She soon became aware, by their fierce words, that there were many of them in a state of intoxication.

The heart of the lonely woman almost died within her, as she heard their heavy tramp before the door.  She had taken the precaution to draw in the leather string that was attached to the wooden latch, to raise it, thus betraying her own secret.  After pounding upon the door for some time, and threatening to break it down if it was not opened, the storm subsided, and she hoped, by the sound of retreating footsteps, they were pursuing their journey.

She was soon undeceived, by hearing her own name called, by the gentle voice of Sousup’s wife, or “squaw,” as he called her.

She stepped forward and opened the door, and discovered a large horde of red men, wrapped in dirty blankets, reeling under the influence of the fire-water.  The squaws were in a squalid condition, and equally drunk with the men, while the papooses, that were placed in sacks upon their backs, peeping up, with their bare heads and dirty faces, added to the wretchedness of the scene, and the sight of them blanched the cheek of the poor woman, as she tremblingly looked upon them.