Curiosity's voice had fallen into a singsong that made Elizabeth's skin rise. She shivered in her damp clothes and pulled her cape closer around her, but Curiosity seemed not to notice.

"The only men that survived that day were your daddy and Mr. Witherspoon because they was in Johnstown, and Axel Metzler and the old Hauptmann—they was hunting up on the other side of the Wolf and my Galileo, he was fishing up on the other end of the lake and he heard what was going on, but there weren't nothing he could do but sit and pray. The only woman come through besides me was Mrs. Witherspoon, who climbed up a spruce when she heard the Mohawk coming and hid there. We thought at first she was took with the others. She sat in that tree for two days without making a sound. It was Axel Metzler who found her and talked her down, gentle like, though she was never quite the same after what she saw from that tree.

"The Mohawk killed the livestock and the men outright, pretty much, although they took their time with Mr. Todd. And then they took the women and children and headed out. There was six of them. Martha Todd with Samuel and Richard, and Mary Clancy with her Jack and Hester. That was the last we saw of Missus Todd and Clancy. They both died on the march north, is how the story goes. Don't know what happened to Mary, but she was delicate thing and I have to say it don't surprise me much she didn't hold out. Martha was tough, though. She would have made it if she hadn't been big with child. She couldn't keep up. When she fell down once too often they took a tomahawk to her.

"I know how harsh that sounds, and they ain't much I can do to put a good face on it except to say that the way the Mohawk look at it, a woman who can't keep up will die one way or the other in the bush, and a swift tomahawk were the best she could hope for."

"Where was Hawkeye during all this?" Elizabeth asked.

"He took Cora and Nathaniel off to the Genesee Valley that fall. It was a shame he wasn't here, that's true enough, as he has always been on good terms with the Mohawk and might have been able to steer them away from Paradise. But the Lord had other plans," Curiosity said. "And he didn't see fit to lift the yoke."

Elizabeth was trying hard not to imagine Martha Todd and the way she died, leaving her two sons in the hands of the men who had killed her husband.

"Them was hard times," Curiosity said. "Hard, indeed."

"Did they mistreat the children?" Elizabeth asked against her own better instincts.

"Lord, no." Curiosity looked at her with some surprise. "The Mohawk know the value of a child. It was the children they wanted, you see, to start with. To take the place of their own kin, lost in the wars.

"So, now, where was we? They headed north with the children, moving fast once the women was dead. Two or three days out, it was, that Jack managed to slip away in the night, which is how we learned about what happened to the women. He had a grandfather over in German Flats, and he went to be raised up by him. I hear he a cordwainer now and a good one. But the other three—the Todd boys and Hester—they was adopted into the tribe, and there they stayed. We had no word of them for some many years."

"You know," Elizabeth said. "I have asked Richard about this part of his life many times and he is unwilling to tell me anything about it."

"Well, I cain't tell you much either about what went on those years he lived with the Mohawk. A' course, it won't be much different from the way any boy is raised. They train all the young'uns hard, but it feel like play to 'em, the way it's done. So they say. And the Todd boys was both strong. Every Indian in the northwest knew who Samuel was, he made a name for his self at lacrosse. They called him Throws—Far, I believe. And Richard—well, big as he is, he could outrun just about anybody. Still can."

Curiosity stopped and turned to look at Elizabeth. Unexpectedly, she smiled.

"Your hair look pretty like that, Elizabeth, all curled around your face. It's a shame and pity you cain't let it go free."

"Why, thank you," Elizabeth said, surprised but pleased.

"Welcome. Now, let's see. We heard some few years after the children was took that Amos Foster was trying to buy those boys back from the Mohawk."

"Who?" asked Elizabeth.

"Martha's brother, Amos Foster. He had settled in Albany and made his self a fortune at trade, you see. But his wife died without givin' him children and he wanted to find his sister's boys to raise up as his own. So he spent a lot of time going from village to village up in Canada until he found 'em, but it didn't do him no good."

"They wouldn't take money for the boys?" Elizabeth asked.

"Don't rightly know if they would have or not. I expect not. Any more than I would sell any of mine. But it didn't matter anyway, because Samuel didn't want to be redeemed. Most didn't, you realize. Not the ones that was took young and adopted in. Now, the way I heared it happen was that Samuel wouldn't have nothing to do with the uncle when he finally found them. Wouldn't speak English to him, even. Wouldn't answer to his Christian name. Not that you could mistake him, or Richard, either, both of them big and red—haired as they come."

"And Richard? Did he want to go with his uncle?"

"Richard was different. He would have left the Mohawk, I expect, if Samuel had come along. But he wouldn't leave his brother."

"How do you know all this?" Elizabeth asked suddenly.

"That uncle of Richard's," said Curiosity matter—of—factly. "He took a slave by the name of Archimedes along with him when he traveled the villages."