“My work is nearly done, and Indian scalps are growing scarce. Their number now stands at 93. The contract is 100. O, that I could meet and kill and scalp Muswink; then my work would be done and vengeance satisfied. It was he that fired the first gun. It was he that robbed the dead body of my father. It was he that fired my heart and made me the avenger of the Delaware Valley. It was he that made me vow at my father’s grave, ‘To kill all, to spare none.’ That vow I have kept, but Muswink still lives. These hairs are growing gray; these limbs are growing stiff; my work is not yet done. Muswink must—shall die. To-morrow I’ll go to the Neversink and at Decker’s tavern. I will kill and scalp the murderer of my father. Then I will go to Rosencrance’s in the clove and die. There I shall meet again and for the last time, brothers, sisters and friends. In love they will close my eyes and lay me away. There I shall sweetly sleep until Gabriel blows his horn and says, ‘Those that are in the grave come forth.’ Then Tom will come forth with a hundred Indian scalps in his crown as evidence that I have been a true and faithful avenger. But I tire; I must go to my couch and dream of Muswink and to-morrow.” Tom enters his cabin and goes to bed. Six Indians that were bent on his destruction had been watching him, and were then planning how they could take him alive. Noiselessly they approach the cabin and find Tom asleep. He is seized and taken out of the cabin and tied to a tree. Then they went for Tom’s property which consisted of skins, furs and a keg of brandy. Their joy at finding the brandy was unbounded and caused them in a measure to forget Tom. They imbibed freely and a drunken revelry ensues, and all fall asleep but one. This one was bound to put Tom beyond the means of escape. He takes torch in one hand and a knife in the other and starts to kill him, but the brandy had done its work. He stumbled and fell across Tom’s body, and soon was in an unconscious drunken slumber. Tom gets his knife, cuts his bands and escapes. The torch the Indian carried sets fire to the cabin and the Indians are roasted in the flames. Tom views the fire from a distance and exclaims: That is putting the shoe on the other foot. They intended to burn me, but they are now charcoal. But they are out of my way, and I am out their scalps. That makes 99. Now for the Neversink, Muswink and 100. A few days after this a number of farmers were assembled at Decker’s tavern, among which were the Cuddebacks, Gumaers and Swartwouts discussing a horse race that had taken place but a few days before, when Muswink suddenly appeared. Ugh! Ugh! here you all be; come and drink with the Indian that killed and scalped old Tom Quick. Come along, all of you. The war is over and the hatchet is buried. Don’t to be too sure of that, said Gumaer. His son, Tom, still lives, and with him the hatchet will never be buried until he has your scalp.