"Scamper! The raindrops will get there before you!" Mrs. Jackson scattered her children like a flock of chickens to the green to gather up the whitened linen which had been spread to dry on that long remembered June day of 1696.

"There, Samuel, do stop that nonsense, for the rain will soon be here!" she laughed in spite of herself, as the round freckled face of her boy on hands and knees appeared with a grin from beneath a sheet.

The laughter of all three children increased when the cows and sheep, in mid-afternoon, came hurrying to the barns, as if they, too, were afraid of a sprinkle.

Mrs. Jackson gave a troubled glance skyward at the on-coming storm and then at the trembling cattle, which had doubtless been frightened by something worse.

Samuel, Betsey, and Peggy had glorious romp together after supper, but neither father, nor mother, nor even Uncle Jack, could be persuaded to tell them a bedtime story, for something seemed to trouble them all. The children went early to bed. Betsey whispered, as they climbed to the feathers, "I heard father say that we'd stay here one more night. Do you suppose the Indians are coming?"

However, not even the dreaded word, Indian nor the booming of the thunder storm outside could keep those sleepy eyes open.

Downstairs the older members of the family and several neighbors gathered about the wide fireplace, glad of the warmth that chilly June night. With sober faces they discussed the rumors of terrible deeds the Indians had committed in Dover, a few miles up the river.

"Some are lurking about us," declared Mr. Jackson, "for no storm would so frighten the cattle. 'Tis not the first time they have come home bruised and bleeding."

"Tomorrow night," added his brother, "the settlers here at the Plains must go to the garrison house for safety. An attack may come at any moment."

Little Samuel was the first to open his eyes the following morning, thinking it a glorious sunshine that gave such a brilliant light outside. Suddenly a snap and a crackle brought him to his feet. He found the barn ablaze. A war-whoop from the Indians then aroused the household.

While father and Uncle Jack armed themselves with such implements as they had at hand, mother gathered the children together to go with her to the garrison house. About to leave the house she missed her wallet, which she had left, and ran upstairs to get it. She came down to find the children gone.

"Perhaps they have started ahead," she thought, and hurried out.

The children, left alone for a moment, frightened and bewildered had run out the front door, for at the back of the house were the Indians, yelling and shrieking. Samuel had crawled into a familiar hiding place under the cinnamon rose bushes, while Betsey and Peggy had hidden beneath the low branches of the lilac, so completely concealed that they did not even see their mother come out of the same door a moment later.

Here the children remained until the barns were smouldering ashes, and the Indians had fled. Samuel was the first to creep from his hiding-place and dash to the side of his father, whom he saw at the front door. Betsey and Peggy followed, calling, "Where's mother?"

"Is she not with you?" asked their surprised father, grasping his children by the hands in his thankfulness to find them alive, for the Indians had left a desolated spot.

"Here comes Uncle Jack from the garrison house. He will tell us where mother is," cried Peggy hopefully. They all hastened to meet him, only to learn that their mother had not been seen since she left home.

"Did the Indians carry her off?" cried little Samuel, choking back a sob.

Betsey relieved that awful thought by exclaiming, "Here comes Captain Shackford with his soldiers. They will find her."

The little group gathered about the sturdy Captain, who had been summoned from the Bank, two miles away. With his militia, he had reached the Plains too late to meet the Indians. Seeing the destruction they had caused, he inquired in which direction they had fled and started in pursuit.

"Bring back my mother!" pleaded little Samuel, running after the captain, who nodded doubtfully.

It was soon learned that four people were missing from this little group of settlers; several were injured and many had been killed. Nine barns and five dwellings had been burned.

"We have a house left to us," sighed Peggy, "but what is that without mother?"

There was no time, however, for even the children to mourn their loss; so many things were needed from their home for those without homes, that they were kept busy for several hours carrying pillows, blankets, and other things of comfort to the injured ones.

Suddenly little Samuel cried, "Here comes Captain Shackford back again," for the Captain was then emerging from the woods across the clearing with his militia carrying kettles, lanterns, blankets, and other things the Indians had taken as plunder.

"Oh!" cried Betsey with joy, straining her gaze for a moment. "Mother is with them!"

The children dashed across the Plains, in wild delight to escort their mother home. Her friends gathered about and with the children still clinging to her heard how the Captain had seen a feathery blue smoke some four miles from the Plains and, approaching it, had found that the Indians were cooking their breakfast behind the protection of their captives, who were tied to the trees. The soldiers suddenly rushed upon the Indians, who escaped. However, the plunder and, best of all, the four prisoners were safely brought back.

Since then many a bedtime story by the hearth-fire has been told of that spot, which to this day is known as Breakfast Hill.