Frederick Ice chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Frederick and the others hurried to pack the wagons and get started home as soon as there was enough light to find their way. Surely there would be no danger from the Mohawks. Yet they rushed to be home to see their loved ones and reassure themselves of their safety.

They hurried as fast as they could. It helped that they had cleared brush and made a trail on their way to Winchester.

Then as they came over the mountain they could see smoke still rising from the ashes of the houses and barns. They screamed in rage and whipped the horses to run faster!

When they reached the smoldering ashes, they could see bodies. A woman and a baby were dead. Each had been scalped. Quickly they searched. The children were gone. Mary Margaret was not there.

Frederick screamed in anger and pounded his chest in frustration! "Quick! We must find them before they get away! They have almost a day's travel already. John! Go tell the other communities! Spread the word! Get help!"

They unhitched the horses and started off in pursuit.

These men were woodsmen. They could read trail. But the Indians had been careful to try to cover up signs of their passing. And conditions were different then. You could go for many miles in any direction without coming out from under the trees. It was a wilderness of trees and bushes and vines.

Frederick and the others frantically tried to force their way through the brush, hoping to guess which way the Indians had gone. The thick forest made travel all but impossible, and then night fell. They made torches of dry wood and pushed on, trying to pick up the signs and trail of the Indians. They were helpless and hopeless.

As the new day dawned they speeded up their travel. These men were in excellent physical condition. Frederick was 65 years old, but had health like a young athlete. His eyes were sharp and could pick out the faintest signs. Most of the day they toiled through the dense underbrush, sometimes chopping their way, following what sign they could.

By now some others from surrounding settlements had rushed to catch up with them. These people worked together to fight the common enemy. No one was safe when Mohawks attacked.

They came into a clearing only to find a grisly sight.

"God! No!" Frederick cried out in his grief. Mary Margaret lay among the bushes, her skull split by a tomahawk. She had been killed and scalped.

"You go on, Mr. Ice. We'll bury her. We'll take her body home when we come back this way."

Quickly two men dug a shallow grave and buried Mary Margaret. They piled logs on the grave to protect it from animals. Then they blazed a mark on a nearby tree, to be sure to find the grave again.

Day and night they rushed as fast as they could, cursing the dense brush which held them back. Finally they came to the Ohio River. They searched frantically up and down the riverside. But it was hopeless. The children and the others were gone forever. This was one of the facts of life on the Frontier.

A few people lived along the river. They learned from them that the soldiers had chased the Mohawks as far as Pittsburgh a few weeks ago, but had not caught up with them.

In great sorrow Frederick and the others returned to their home site at Patterson Creek