The one thousand acres of land were deeded to Sir William, according to the tenor of his dream, and the land was sold to actual settlers by the heirs and descendants of Sir William Johnson, years after the storm of the Revolution had passed away, and the grant was confirmed in the settlement of peace with the government of Great Britain. CHAPTER VI. After the storm of the Revolution had subsided, the Indian's bow was unstrung, the tomahawk and scalping-knife were laid idly by, and the Angel of Peace had spread her guardian wing over the waters of the Susquehanna and her tributaries. The hardy sons of New England came flocking to this section of country, and many of them found a home for their families in the lovely Valley of the Otego. Here they purchased lauds and commenced cutting down and clearing away the forest along the valley, and erecting rude houses to shelter their wives and children, and mills to grind their grain. In a few short years the smoke from their morning fires curled above the forest trees for more than twenty miles along the winding banks of the crystal waters of the Otego, and began to present a scene of activity. School-houses were erected by the industry of the settlers along the valley at the most convenient places, and these served a double purpose--for schools through the week and meeting on the Sabbath. Orchards soon began to blossom in spring, and fields of grain to wave in summer, both yielding the gems of bright abundance in autumn. Then the reapers, robust and ruddy with health, thrust in the willing sickle, whilst the young maidens with glowing cheeks gathered up the gavels and bound them in sheaves and raked the new-mown hay. Health, beauty and prosperity spread their glory over the lovely scene. The axeman's blows, that lowered the forest and frightened away the game, were displeasing to Mayall, and all his thoughts were now turned on finding a new home. The thought of living in a country where the primeval forest was fast disappearing, the thick boughs that had sheltered him from the storms and the green plumes that had waved over his head in summer to protect him from the scorching rays of the sun in his daily rambles, for so many years, where the wild game had lived and fattened for his table--all seemed like departing friends. Mayall could endure the scene no longer, and started in quest of a new home. He traversed the country to the north in every direction, with his gun in his hand and his hunting-knife and tomahawk in his belt.