I added my voice to this proposition, since it seemed the true one, and we started off once more with the agreement that, at the end of four and twenty hours, we would return to go on watch. Our faces were turned toward the river, and we made no other halt until having arrived at the bank of the stream, when we moved more cautiously, lest we attract the attention of those of the enemy who might be on the opposite side. Nothing could be seen to cause alarm, and we set about searching such ruins as lay to the south of where we then were. Even as we began the task I understood that it was too much to expect we could find another family who had remained securely hidden, as had Mistress Stockbridge and her children; but, nevertheless, we did our work thoroughly and without interruption until nearly nightfall. There was sufficient evidence of butchery and destruction on every hand to make our hearts ache, but we found no one alive; and, when the sun was near to setting, Giles March claimed that there was no reason why we should not be able to learn of what might be going on near Forty Fort if we were willing to spend the hours of darkness scouting in that direction. To this Master Bartlett made no protest, although I could understand full well that it caused him pain to walk so far and so long. “We should be able to find a canoe somewhere along the bank near these ruins,” I said to the old man, because it was quite a serious matter for him to go into the water when he could not swim a stroke, and immediately I began to search. It was only reasonable to suppose that those of the settlers who had more boats than were needed to take them across the river when they fled to Forty Fort would have concealed the remainder in the bushes near the water, and, because of such reckoning, I clambered down the bank to the very edge of the stream, peering in at every likely spot. On arriving opposite the ruins of Eben Towle’s house, which had stood near the water and was the most southerly in the settlement, I saw what looked like an opening in the bank, which would have been passed unnoticed save for the fact that I had been searching for some such place. A tangle of bushes and vines grew nearabout, and, worming my way amid these, taking care not to disturb them more than might be necessary, I finally came upon an opening not unlike the den of a bear, which was, perhaps, three feet in diameter. Thrusting in my head, I cried out, thinking it possible some unfortunate might be hidden therein, and a reply came from Master Bartlett, who was some distance away on the other side of the ruins. It struck me as queer that he should have been able to hear my voice while I was so far from him, and with my head in a hole, therefore I called him by name, speaking more softly, and, to my surprise, he replied promptly, the words sounding as if they had come from the hole just in advance of me instead of from the open air. “Where are you?” I asked, in bewilderment.