kindness. Jasper remained at Cook House until the 1st of October, when Capt. Mounsh and his party, with all his prisoners, continued their journey to Chemung. On entering the village the Indians there gave a war-cry and ran out to meet them. They pulled Jasper off his horse and pounded him unmercifully with tomahawk handles and whips, until Capt. Mounsh interfered and rescued him. In the late fall Mounsh sold Jasper to a Delaware family, living near the village, on the south side of Tioga River. He was at once taken to his new home. During the winter he suffered greatly from lack of food and clothing. To harden him to cold the Indians compelled him to strip, each day of winter, and jump into the river through a hole cut in the ice; but in this and other respects he was treated as one of themselves by the Delawares. The family hunted and fished until the last of August, 1779; when General Sullivan's army approached, Jasper fled with the savages to Newtown, and was left with the squaws, other prisoners, and baggage, in a secure place. After the battle he continued with them up the river to Painted Post, where the warriors overtook the women the following day. They continued their flight by way of what are now Bath, Dansville, Fall Brook, Moscow and Tonawanda, making but brief stops until they reached Niagara, where nearly all the Iroquois were encamped on the plains near the fort. A few days later Jasper met James Pemberton, who had been captured with himself.

Pemberton told Jasper that he and his fellow-prisoners were brought to the Niagara River, where his captors camped on the flat under the mountain (now Lewiston). There the warriors decided to torture Pemberton, whose sturdy frame gave promise of great endurance. Joseph Brant, who was in command of the party, tried to persuade the band to give up their purpose. To this they would not consent, and setting up a green stake on the bluff overlooking the river, set Pemberton to work to collect wood for his own funeral pyre. Brant was displeased and secretly appealed to the women, telling them if they would effect his escape one of them should have this fine-looking man for her husband. While Pemberton was gathering brush near

a little runway the squaws hurried him out of sight. They took him to the fort where he was protected by Col. Butler who gave him work. Pemberton told Jasper that his father and brother had been sent to Montreal to be exchanged, but that he himself preferred to remain with the Indians.* Jasper said that the Indians became so troublesome at Niagara, that, to get rid of them, the British authorities offered a guinea for each Yankee scalp brought in. This reward led to an adventure that Jasper related to oratio as the boys walked slowly towards the fort.

"The Delaware family I was with stayed here until late in the fall (1779). One day the Indians got to drinking and I was left with two warriors who were quite drunk. Being cold I gathered wood and kept up a good fire. The Indians sat on one side of the fire and I on the other. They began to talk, saying they would like more rum, and that it would be an easy matter to kill the young Yankee and get the bounty with which to buy it. I understood their conversation and watched them closely. After a little one of them plucked a long brand out of the fire and hurled it at me with all his might. I dodged the stick, sprang up and ran into the bushes where the Indians attempted to follow, but being drunk and the night dark they could not catch me. I kept away from the fire all night, but when they had become sober the next day I returned to camp.

"One day my Delaware master took me into the fort and tried to sell me to the white people there, but none of them would buy. Finally we met a large, fine-looking Mohawk named Capt. Daniel Hill, who bought me of the Delaware for twenty dollars. Capt. Hill took me to his tent and said to me in English: This is your home, and you must stay here.' I had been very well treated by the Delawares, had learned their language and did not like the idea of changing masters. However the change has proved a very happy one in many respects.

"In November the Six Nations held a great council in the

* Pemberton remained at Niagara until released in 1783. He then joined the Tuscaroras and married the mother of John Mountpleasant. His numerous descendants are among the most respected Tuscarora families of the present day.

fort. Capt. Hill took me in to the assemblage and I thought he was going to sell me to some other nation, but instead of that he put a belt of wampum about my neck, and a very old chief took me by the hand and made a speech. I did not understand what was said as the Mohawk language is so very different from the Delaware; the whole affair was conducted in a very solemn manner. After the speech all the chiefs came and shook hands with me and Capt. Hill told me he had adopted me as his son; that I must return to his tent, which was now my own home.

"We remained at the fort till the next May when all the Mohawks there moved up under the mountain about two miles east of the river; that is now our home. I have been treated very kindly by Capt. Hill and his family and the other Mohawks. I have hunted and fished with them, been with a war-party to the settlements and visited many of the Six Nations' towns."

The boys spent the day together at the fort. A warm friendship sprang up between them and their frequent meetings thereafter were among the most pleasant events of their forest lives.

VI. FLIGHT AND RETURN-AN ENCOUNTER.

The white captives in the Genesee towns had little opportunity for intercourse with each other. While apparently free to come and go they were each and all under surveiliance and any attempt to pass certain limits was checked in a manner unpleasantly suggestive of fatal results in a serious attempt to escape.

Horatio so thoroughly ingratiated himself in the affections of the family and so vigorously resented interference with his personal rights that he was permitted many privileges denied to captives of less independence of spirit. There was much in the life he led in the wilderness that was congenial and to all outward appearances he was satisfied with the change in his condition; yet under his careless. manner he, at times, carried a troubled heart. Visions of

the home on the Juniata, of parents and friends would intrude to disturb his slumbers and he secretly pined for home and civilization. He had little confidence in his ability to find his way back to Bedford County and he availed himself of the first opportunity to enlist in an expedition against the frontier settlers, thinking he might find an opportunity, when near settlements, to escape. His offer was rejected on the plea that his services were greatly needed at home to mend the guns and examine prisoners. At length he resolved to escape. Putting his weapons in order and securing a supply of ammunition and a little food, early one morning he left the camp. His departure was unobserved and his absence not noted until some hours later when his assistance was required in some small matter. As no one could tell where he was suspicions were aroused and the Indians at once concluded that Hoc-sa-go-wah "walk bushes" to escape. An alarm was spread and men scattered in all directions to discover traces of the fugitive. Thanks to his skill in woodcraft he covered his trail so perfectly that the experienced hunters found no sign. They scoured the forest paths for miles and sent their fleetest runners upon distant trails. Knowing this would be the course Jones sought the frontier of Pennsylvania by a route that would avoid Indian paths yet be sufficiently direct to reach his destination in the briefest possible time. The extra caution he was forced to exercise rendered his progress slow and laborious.

He had been alone in the wilderness many hours, when he discovered a sheltered place in a ravine where he could spend the night. Reconnoitering the surroundings and deciding the best course of retreat in case of an attack, he carefully effaced every trace of his trail and stretched his weary limbs for a night's repose upon a bed of soft leaves. He considered himself beyond all danger of pursuit and feared only a chance encounter with straggling hunters. Musing upon his situation the fugitive's thoughts ran to his boyhood's home. He wondered if he would find his friends as he left them, if his father and mother were still living; what changes might have occurred during his absence. Then his thoughts turned to himself. He had left home a fair-com

plexioned boy; now every exposed part of his person was bronzed by sun and wind to a shade not very unlike the natural color of the Indians, and in outward appearance he was an uncouth native of the wilderness. He wondered if his friends would recognize and welcome him or would regard him with surprise and indifference. His relatives had doubtless given him up as dead, and though he had been absent so short a time it would seem like beginning a new life to reënter the settlement. Then he thought of the wretched captives whom the savages were constantly bringing to the Genesee, and how he had already been able to mitigate the sufferings and preserve the lives of several persons. It seemed as though the event of his capture was truly providential, and that he had been sent there for some special purpose. If he were to effect his escape would it not be like deserting a post of duty? Who would take his place as interpreter and befriend prisoners? Would it not be better to forego his own desires, return to the Indian town and continue in his increasing influence in behalf of captives? All the long hours of that dismal night his mind was active with conflicting thoughts and when morning came he decided to return to his Indian home. With this resolution he realized that to carry it into effect he must risk the danger of recapture and the horrors of certain torture, the usual fate of deserters. He felt sure if he could enter the village undetected he would not have to suffer severe punishment. On his return he used the same skill in forest strategem that accomplished his escape. Before his presence in the Indian town was known he entered his father's house, quietly laid aside his equipments, to all outward appearances unconscious of anything unusual or strange in his actions. The warm welcome that followed his entrance dissipated every doubt of the affection of the family and the wisdom of his return. No explanation of his absence was required, it being tacitly conceded that he had missed his course while hunting and was too proud to speak of the mistake. He received cautions and instructions for future guidance and thereafter the Indians were less vigilant in guarding him; but he never revealed to them his attempt to escape.