Don was wakened by the sound of firing. He sat up and rubbed his eyes; then, looking at the sun, he guessed that twelve o’clock had passed. He could see nothing of the Redcoats; nor could he see smoke anywhere inside the town. From the east came the sound of firing that had wakened him, and men with muskets were hurrying across fields in that direction. For a moment he thought of returning to his Cousin Deborah’s; then he decided to push for Boston as fast as he could. Half running, half walking, he made his way in a southeasterly direction in order to avoid the main road. Once he wondered whether the Redcoat Harry Hawkins was with this expedition of British troops, but somehow the thought was painful, and he turned his mind to other things. For some time he had been climbing a rocky hillside; now, on reaching the crest, he got his last glimpse of the skirmish. The British were in the road just outside of Lexington, and, far off as Don was, he could see plainly that they were having a hard time of it. He could see the flash of sabres as if the officers were urging their men to advance. One officer was prancing here and there on a spirited black horse, as if he had lost control of the animal. Then Don saw part of the King’s troops open fire and saw a dozen or more muskets flash in reply along an old stone wall on the opposite side of the road. Before he heard the reports of them he saw the black horse fall. Another glance and he saw a company of Minute-Men crossing a distant field at a rapid pace. The sight of a battle going on almost under his nose, the sound of guns, the smell of powder, all seemed to hold him spell-bound, and only the thought of his Aunt Martha alone in the little house in Pudding Lane caused him to turn and hurry on his way. Soon he was out of hearing of the firing, but from time to time he saw detachments of Minute-Men and militia marching to the east. Once he stopped at a solitary farmhouse and asked for something to eat. A woman who was alone except for a little girl of nine or ten years gave him bread and cheese and then prepared a small bundle of the food for him to take along. Don told her what he had seen at Concord and at Lexington, and her lips quivered; but she smiled at him. “Such a day!” she exclaimed. “My husband and my three brothers have gone. It seems that all the men from the village have gone. I have heard that the town of Dedham is almost empty; even the company of gray-haired old veterans of the French Wars has gone. Such a day! Be careful, my boy, and return to your aunt as soon as possible.”