Fort Refuge now deserved its name. There were many axes, with plenty
of strong and skillful arms to wield them, and new buildings were
erected within the palisade, the smoke rising from a half dozen
chimneys. They were rude structures, but the people who occupied
them, used all their lives to hardships, did not ask much, and they
seemed snug and comfortable enough to them. Fires always blazed on the
broad stone hearths and the voices of children were heard within the
log walls. The hands of women furnished the rooms, and made new
clothes of deerskin.
The note of life at Fort Refuge was comfort and good cheer. They felt
that they could hold the little fortress against any force that might
come. The hunters, Willet, Tayoga and Black Rifle at their head,
brought in an abundance of game. There was no ill health. The little
children grew mightily, and, thus thrown together in a group, they had
the happiest time they had ever known. Robert was their hero. No other
could tell such glorious tales. He had read fairy stories at Albany,
and he not only brought them all from the store of his memory but he
embroidered and enlarged them. He had a manner with him, too.
Pages:
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185