“We are strong enough to stand against a goodly number of them now,” I said, thinking aloud, and Master Bartlett replied as if I had questioned him: “You’ll do no more fighting this two weeks, lad, and I’ve had it in mind that you had better let Stephen Morley and me go out for awhile. I’m burning to know where the brutes are located now the stockade has been destroyed.” Well, we talked long and earnestly on the matter, finally coming to the agreement that the old man should, on the coming night, take a dozen lads with him, and cross the river; but it was with the understanding that he would not make an attack save when the odds or chances were greatly in his favor. It was not pleasant for me to see my comrades setting off while I remained behind; but there was no help for it when another night had come, and I stood on the platform nearest the water, with Esther Hinchman by my side, watching the dear lads as they paddled across the river, wishing most fervently that I could be with them. They had not been gone above half an hour, and I was still on the lookout’s platform by the side of Esther, when we were startled by seeing what appeared to be a veritable army of men coming up the river. For the moment I believed the savages had circled around back of Forty Fort to surprise us, thinking we would have no suspicions of those who came from that direction. I had just leaned over to tell one of the women who chanced to be passing that all the men were to be aroused, when there came a hail in good English from the fleet of canoes. “Fort ahoy!” When I had replied to the hail the question came: “Who is holding that stockade?” “The Minute Boys of Wyoming Valley, aided by those who were so fortunate as to come from Forty Fort alive.” “Who is in command?” “I, Jonathan Ogden.” “You have done well to hold the place, lad; but it will be easier from now on. I am bringing you thirty good recruits, all of whom are well armed, and amply supplied with ammunition and provisions.” I could hardly credit my own ears, for such news seemed far too good to be true, and I cried, incredulously: “Who may you be to have brought us that of which we stand so sadly in need?” “John Franklin, of Hunterdon. I went with Colonel Zebulon Butler’s followers to Conyngham, and nearabout there have mustered these recruits, all of whom are eager to meet those who have laid waste this valley.” Half an hour later Captain Franklin and his men were inside the stockade, having brought with them in the way of ammunition and provisions sufficient to serve us for many days to come. I did not really believe that all these young men--there were no old ones among them--would be willing to serve under me until we had come together and I put the question squarely to them, when they declared their willingness to regularly enlist, if it might be possible so to do.