It was a fair piece of land with the trees already cleared. Men had come over from Milford, on the coast, to buy the land from the Indians. They had cleared it and divided it into plots for the houses. The land sloped down to the Great River, and beyond the river were the Indian fields.
It was in the hill across the river that Sarah and her father found a place hollowed out, that would do for the night.
“And tomorrow I will make it larger and build a shed and a fence,” John Noble said.
They took from Thomas the heavy load he had been carrying—bedding and pots, seeds for planting, tools, and warm clothes for the weather that would be coming.
“Tonight we do not need to eat that dry johnny-cake,” Sarah said.
It was easy to make a fire outdoors and to stir up a big pot of bean porridge. They ate there by the fire, with the only sound the evening talk of the birds.
Later, when they had gone to bed, Sarah lay looking out at the fire which still glowed in the darkness. It was cold in the cave but Sarah was comfortable. Under the quilt she had wrapped herself in her warm cloak.
Now the night sounds began. Sarah lay and listened. Was she keeping up her courage or was she being afraid?
A branch snapped in the darkness.
“Father?”
“Yes, Sarah?”
“Do not be afraid, Father, I think an owl . . . f-fell off a branch!”
There was the sound of small footsteps.
“Father?”
“Yes, Sarah.”
“That is perhaps a woodchuck. It cannot be Indians. . .”