It could be seen at a glance how relieved all were at being able to move about at will once more. The children were already romping to and fro inside the enclosure, frolicking like so many lambs; the women were clearing rubbish from such of the buildings as they had decided we should occupy, and our wounded were lying on the ground where they might feel the warm rays of the sun. “It does a fellow solid good to be in the open air once more,” Elias Shendle said, as I halted by his side. “I believe that a week’s imprisonment in the tunnel would have put an end to me; but now I’m counting on doing my full share of duty a couple of days later.” Sam Rogers looked up with a bright smile, as he said, cheerily: “It is well worth all the extra danger to be here, and I believe it will be no more work to defend this place than it would have been in the tunnel, where we must have been caught like rats in a trap if the savages had got an inkling of our whereabouts.” Esther Hinchman was darting here and there, bent on one duty or another, looking so happy that in my surprise I asked what had come over her, and she replied, cheerily: “It’s the fresh air and sunlight, Jonathan Ogden. While we were in the tunnel I felt as if I was turning into an owl; but now the feathers are beginning to drop off,” and away she ran, as if we of Wyoming Valley had never seen any who would do us harm. “It is good for us all to be here,” Master Bartlett said, as he came up to where I stood watching the children at play. “We can count ourselves soldiers now, which was more than could be done while we skulked from cave to tunnel, and the work which we have set ourselves seems well begun.” Then it was that Daniel Hinchman, who was standing guard, startled us all by shouting: “A canoe, in which are three people, is coming down the river! It may be that Colonel Dennison has sent the messenger of which he spoke!” We seized our muskets, those of us who were able to do duty, not feeling inclined to be taken by surprise, and stood on the walls until the craft was beached directly in front of the stockade, when we saw that it brought a man and two women, all of whom came up the bank staggering under the weight of heavy burdens. “It is Andrew Hardy!” Stephen Morley cried. “He is one of my neighbors whom I left in the army when having got a furlough. It may be the Congress has begun to remember that a soldier should be allowed to protect his wife and little ones when there are none others to look after them.” These newcomers were indeed messengers from Colonel Dennison, come to say that John Butler, with such of his following as he could control, would march out of Forty Fort on the following morning, and at the same time our people in that stockade would make the attempt to join us.