"You dirty rebel dogs!" she screamed, "wait till McDonald catches you! Ah--there'll be blood enow for you all to wade in as I waded in the river yonder, when your filthy cavalry headed me!" Wirt tried to question her, but she mocked us all, boasted that McDonald had a huge army at the Flockey, and that he was now on his way to Stone House to destroy us all. "Turn that slut loose!" said the Captain sharply. So we let go the Pup, and she turned and legged it, yelling her scorn and fury as she ran; and we saw her go floundering and splashing across the river, doubtless to carry news of us to McDonald. And it contented us that she so do, because now we came upon Stone House, where the small garrison under a Lieutenant Wallace had ventured out and were a-digging of a ditch and piling fence rails across the road to stop McDonald's riders in a charge. Here, also, were Harper's mounted militia, sitting their saddles, poorly armed with militia fire-locks. But we had a respectable force and were ashamed to await the outlaws behind ditch and rail; so we marched on through the gathering dusk to a house about two miles further, where a dozen strangely painted horsemen galloped away as we approached. A yell of rage at sight of those blue-eyed Indians arose from our riders. Our trumpet sounded; the cavalry broke into a gallop. It was now twilight. I begged some mounted militia-men to take me and my Oneidas up behind them; and they were obliging enough to do so; and we jogged away into the rosy dusk of an August evening. Almost immediately I saw the Flockey ahead, and Adam Crysler's house on the bank; and on the lawn in front of it I saw McDonald's grotesque legion drawn up in line of battle. As I came up our cavalry was forming to charge; Lieutenant Wirt had just turned in his saddle to speak to me, when one of the outlaws ran out to the edge of the lawn and called across the road to Wirt that he should never live to marry Angelica Vrooman,[41] but would die a dog's death as he deserved. [Footnote 41: Angelica Vrooman sewed the winding sheet for Lieutenant Wirt's body.] As the cavalry charged, Wirt rode directly at this man, who coolly shot him out of his saddle. I saw and recognized the outlaw, who was a Tory named Shafer. As Wirt fell to the grass, stone dead, his horse knocked down Shafer. The Tory got up, streaming with blood but not badly hurt, and, clubbing his piece, attempted to dash out Wirt's dead brains; but Trooper Rose swung his horse violently against Shafer, sabred him, and, in turn, fell from his own saddle, fatally wounded. Another trooper dismounted to pick up poor Rose, who was in a bad way, but one of McDonald's painted Tories fired on them and both fell. I fired at this man and wounded him, and Tahioni chased him, caught him, and slew him by the fence.