the fort working in the fields. Still DeVrees, who commanded the
expedition, hoping that the report was exaggerated, and that the
colony might still live, in sadness and disappointment proceeded on
his way. One of his vessels ran upon the sands off Dunkirk, causing a
delay of two months. It was not until the end of December that the
vessels cast anchor off Swaanendael. No boat from the shore
approached; no signs of life met the eye. The next morning a boat,
thoroughly armed, was sent into the creek on an exploring tour.

Upon reaching the spot where the fort had been erected they found the
building and palisades burned, and the ground strewn with the hones of
their murdered countrymen, intermingled with the remains of cattle.
The silence and solitude of the tombs brooded over the devastated
region. Not even a savage was to be seen. As the boat returned with
these melancholy tidings, DeVrees caused a heavy cannon to be fired,
hoping that its thunders, reverberating over the bay, and echoing
through the trails of the wilderness, might reach the ear of some
friendly Indian, from whom he could learn the details of the disaster.

The next morning a smoke was seen curling up from the forest near the
ruins. The boat was again sent into the creek, and two or three
Indians were seen cautiously prowling about. But mutual distrust stood
in the way of any intercourse. The Dutch were as apprehensive of
ambuscades and the arrows of the Indians, as were the savages of the
bullets of the formidable strangers.

Some of the savages at length ventured to come down to the shore, off
which the open boat floated, beyond the reach of arrows. Lured by
friendly signs, one of the Indians soon became emboldened to venture
on board. He was treated with great kindness, and succeeded in