While the attack upon the houses was in progress, the Indians made several assaults upon the fort, but to no avail.  Their work of destruction, however, went on unchecked among the habitations of the settlers.  It was not long before flames were mounting in every quarter.  Butler, dismayed to see the Indians so completely beyond control, was forced to hold his regular troops in readiness to oppose a sally from the garrison.  Brant meanwhile exerted himself in performing numerous acts of kindness, and did what he could to check the rude violence of his savage band.  In one house he found a peasant woman working calmly at her daily toil.

‘Are you thus engaged,’ he questioned, ’while all your neighbours are murdered around you?’

‘We are the king’s people,’ was the simple response.

‘That plea will not avail you to-day,’ said the chieftain.  ’They have murdered Mr Wells’s family, who were as dear to me as my own.’

‘But,’ replied the woman, ’there is one Joseph Brant:  if he is with the Indians, he will save us.’

‘I am Joseph Brant,’ came the rapid answer, ’but I have not the command, and I know not that I can save you.’

No sooner had he done speaking than his sharp eye detected a group of Senecas coming to the house.  ’Get into bed quick,’ he said abruptly, ‘and feign yourself sick.’  The woman did his bidding, and the Indians when they entered were completely deceived by her pretence.  Then, as they departed, Brant gave a piercing signal, and some of his Mohawks gathered into the room.  He had called them to help him save this woman and her family.  His mark on them would, he believed, make them safe even in this time of general slaughter.  He had no colouring matter with him and he asked the Mohawks to use theirs.  With deft fingers the Indians then placed the chief’s own mark upon the woman and her children in order to protect them.

‘You are now probably safe,’ said Brant and moved out again into the smoke of fire and battle.

When the massacre was over, it was found that thirty or forty settlers had escaped death and had been made prisoners.  From one of these Brant made inquiries respecting the whereabouts of Captain McKean.  He learned that this officer had taken his family away to the Mohawk valley.

‘He sent me a challenge once,’ remarked Brant; ’I have now come to accept it.  He is a fine soldier thus to retreat.’

‘Captain McKean,’ was the rejoinder, ’would not turn his back upon an enemy where there was a possibility of success.’

‘I know it,’ said Brant, with open generosity.  ’He is a brave man, and I would have given more to take him than any other man in Cherry Valley.  But,’ he added, ’I would not have hurt a hair of his head.’