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Updated: May 11, 2025
They do be pigtails on th' Dootch a fut long in the eel-skin. Faith, I saw McCraw's scalp 'twas wan o' Harrod's men tuk it, not I, sorr! an' 'twas red an' ratty, wid nary a lock to lift it, more shame to McCraw!" Mount stood, balancing now on his heels, now on his toes, inhaling and expelling his breath like a man who has had more than a morning draught of cider.
I shrieked, "I'll force you!" Billy Bones, Francy McCraw, and a Seneca came hastening up. I leaped on McCraw and dealt him a blow full in his bony face, splitting the lean cheek open. They overpowered me before I could repeat the blow; they flung me down, kicking and pounding me as I lay there, but the death-stroke I awaited was withheld; the castete of the Seneca was jerked from his fist.
"If ye see Francy McCraw, jest tell him thar's a rope an' a apple-tree waitin' fur him down to Fundy's Bush!" "Tell Danny Redstock an' Billy Bones that the Stoner boys is smellin' almighty close on their trail!" called out the elder youth. Elerson, in his saddle, gathered the bridles that Mount handed him and rode off into the darkness, leading Mount's horse and Sir George's at a trot.
The setting sun crimsoned the pines; the riders were gathered along the hill-side, bending far out in their saddles to scan the valley below. McCraw, his white face bound with a bloody rag, drew his straight claymore and wound the tattered tartan around his wrist, motioning Billy Bones to ride on.
He sullenly admitted to us that the Cayugas had scattered his people and laid their village in ashes; he cursed McCraw fiercely and promised a dreadful retaliation on any renegade captured.
Losh, mon, but she's a grewsome carlin', wi' the witch-locks hangin' to her neck an' her twa een blazin'!" "You drive us out to-night!" shouted Redstock. "We'll remember it when Brant is in the hills!" "The wolf-yelp! Clan o' the wolf!" screamed McCraw. "Woe! Woe to Broadalbane! 'Tis the pibroch o' Glencoe shall wake ye to the woods afire! Be warned!
McCraw, stupefied with amazement and rage, stood mopping the blood from his blotched face, staring at me out of his crazy blue eyes. For a moment his hand fiddled with his hatchet, then Bones shoved him away, and he strode off towards his horsemen, who were forming in column of fours. "You tell 'em," shouted Bones, "that before we finish him they'll hear his screams in Albany!
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