A general burst of laughter followed this high-toned declaration of personal bravery, and the labors of the day were resumed. Evening at length drew on; and the company, having taken the parting glass, began to separate. A little after dusk Archibald Crawford was on his way to Mount Vernon, where he resided. He crossed Dry Creek just above its confluence with the waters of Owl Creek, where they form what is now known as the Vernon River. Whistling the then familiar tune of “White Cockade,” he proceeded directly toward the footbridge that led across Owl Creek into the town. Suddenly, from behind a clump of sycamores that may yet be seen near the bank of the creek, two able-bodied red warriors sprang out and, with the cry of “Wah!” instantly seized him. Their language, dress, and accouterments, together with the general war cry that seemed to be raised in his ears, confirmed his belief that he was surrounded by British and Indians. After a few wild screams and some of the most desperate plunges and struggles that perhaps were ever made by mortal man, Crawford succeeded in disengaging himself from the iron grasp of the savages. He had the advantage of being well acquainted with the ground and the ford of the river, and his speed soon brought him to the little collection of houses that then constituted the town of Mount Vernon. [Illustration: ... give me but a good rifle ...] The inhabitants of this village had been frequently alarmed by the appearance of Indians in the vicinity. The town’s exposed situation was such that the authorities were subsequently justified in quartering a small detachment of soldiers there for protection. The main street is now an unbroken street more than half a mile in length, lined with well-built brick and frame houses. The main street was then only a short street of a small hamlet, lined with wretched, temporary buildings. The whole military strength of the county, now forming a full brigade, was then not sufficient to constitute a regiment; it was formed into a separate, small battalion under the command of Major Kratzer. But the military glory and pride of the inhabitants rested in a fairly well-organized company of riflemen, who wore uniforms of blue linsey hunting shirts and were commanded by Captain Joseph Walker, and in an inconsiderable company of light horsemen under the command of Captain Ankeny. A small, square log house, standing on the point of a gentle hill, served as the principal tavern, storehouse, camp, and garrison. It was a general place of resort for all the village politicians, and it served as a general place of refuge when danger approached. Late in the evening a small party stood about the door of this important mansion, discussing the signs of the times and the fearful omens of the great comet, when Archibald Crawford burst in upon them, pale and breathless.