The clothes were spread on the green when her piercing gaze caught a strange movement of the water. A second look discerned the curve of a canoe. Madam Cutt was off in the flower garden. The hay-makers were in the fields. There was scarcely a moment in which to find shelter. Darting into the grape arbor, the maid then crept behind bushes and through uncut grass to the river slope around the bend. At last she was hidden from the farm-site. On she sped with all haste toward the town. There was a gap of water to be crossed. She found a boat and pulled at the oars in the direction of Portsmouth. While the Waldrons and their guests in the Portsmouth home were gaily chatting at the table, cries of "The Indians! The Indians!" were shrieked through the hall, and the terrified girl in working clothes rushed in exhausted. As soon as she recovered her voice, she poured forth brokenly, "The Indians--I ran--They didn't see me!" "But Madam Cutt, where is she?" asked Col. Waldron. "She was in the garden! She must be killed! There was no time! I hid in the bushes, crept over the meadow, and ran to the point, where I found a boat!" Col. Waldron ordered his horse and in a short time had gathered a force and hastened to the farm. It was all too true. The Indians had made their attack. Madam Ursula Cutt had been killed and robbed of her jewels. The three hay-makers had been shot, and their scalps taken for trophies. But little Dick, who might have been there, was safely rocked in his own cradle that night and saved to become Secretary Waldron, an important man in New Hampshire history. THE DEFENSE AT OYSTER RIVER Thomas Bickford viewed with satisfaction his house and fortress now complete. Building in 1694 was attended with many difficulties, as John and William, his sons, well knew, for they had helped. "Boys, you've worked well. A holiday for you tomorrow," promised their father. Early the following morning the boys started off on an exploring tour, for they had but recently come to the Oyster River shores, several miles north of Portsmouth where they had lived with their grandmother. The river had much to interest the boys. At night they returned home filled with excitement over the large hollow oak they had found almost a mile below. "It was just like a house, father. We planned the rooms and played there all day." "And saw no Indians?" their father inquired with some anxiety. "Yes, on the opposite bank we saw several creeping up the river, but we had a fine hiding place." The boys little knew that on that 17th day of July, some two hundred Indians were stealing cautiously up the Oyster River, on both sides, to the Upper Settlement. Their plan was to divide into small groups and attack each house at sunrise, the next morning. A single shot was to be the signal. On the following day by some mistake the shot was given before the Indians were ready.