Later the report reached Dover of six houses burned at Oyster River (a neighboring village) and two men killed. The young men of Dover rose with indignation at the insults of the Indians and begged Major Waldron, commander of the militia, to grant them permission to protect the town in their own way. This request granted, some twenty of them, Joseph Haines in the number, armed themselves and scattered through the woods, hoping in that way to find the lurking savages who were doing their mischief in small groups. Just at dusk Joseph, with one companion, took his position in the woods near his own home. "Hist!" came from his friend after long, patient watching. The two were alert, for five stealthy figures were seen to cross the meadow and linger in the cornfield. Three of them began to pick the corn, while two, approaching the house, gathered sticks for a fire which they lighted. Their purpose seemed to be to roast the corn, but the fire was built dangerously near the house. Joseph and his friend had become separated from their companions. No signal could be given without arousing the suspicion of their enemies. After a whispered consultation, they cautiously crept out of the woods and into the shadow of the house. From there they suddenly rushed upon the two Indians by the fire, striking them down with the butts of their guns. Those in the cornfield, hearing the commotion, ran for the woods and escaped. Mr. Haines, seeing the firelight in the direction of his house, started at once from the garrison, not knowing that Betty quietly followed him through the darkness, even slipping through the big gateway without being seen. The fire had already caught the house, while the young men were occupied in binding the prisoners. Mr. Haines dashed to the well for water and returned to find his Betty beating the flames with a broom. Mrs. Haines, missing Betty and suspecting that she had followed her father, was on the spot by the time Joseph had turned his attention from the prisoners to find that the house had been saved from the flames. Word of the efficient guard at Dover was reported by the escaping Indians, and no further attack was made at that time. MY NEW HAMPSHIRE The Indian raids had told heavily upon the colonists in the region of the Piscataqua. Scattered gardens had been devastated; homes built by great effort had been destroyed in a night; family circles had been broken by death, or by capture, and the colony had suffered the loss of strong young men who were its mainstay. John Stevens had been crippled by the tomahawk of an Indian; his whole family and that of his brother had been swept out of existence by the same cruel hands, and all that was left was his home and one little nephew, David. "This country is ours now, David, and we must hold it," he would say to the manly little fellow, who was already facing the responsibilities of life, though with arms too young to swing the axe or to steady the plough.