In this wilderness they
give blow for blow, or perish."
Henry knew that it was true, but he felt a certain sadness. His
heart had been inflamed against the Iroquois, he could never
forget Wyoming or its horrors; but in the destruction of an
ancient town the long labor of man perished, and it seemed waste.
Doubtless a dozen generations of Iroquois children had played
here on the grass. He walked toward the northern end of the
village, and saw fields there from which recent corn had been
taken, but behind him the cry, "Wyoming!" was repeated louder and
oftener now. Then he saw men running here and there with
torches, and presently smoke and flame burst from the houses. He
examined the fields and forest for a little distance to see if
any ambushed foe might still lie among them, but all the while
the flame and smoke behind him were rising higher.
Henry turned back and joined his comrades. Oghwaga was
perishing. The flames leaped from house to house, and then from
lodge to lodge. There was no need to use torches any more. The
whole village was wrapped in a mass of fire that grew and swelled
until the flames rose above the forest, and were visible in the
clear night miles away.
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