It was now nearing the time of harvest, and in the Mohawk
valley the grain had ripened to a golden brown. Even amid
the din of war men must live, and so the settlers began
to garner the season's crop. Nowhere on the river were
there fuller barns than in the populous district that
went by the name of the German Flatts. Bordering the
Mohawk river on either side, it stretched for ten miles
along the valley, rich in soil, and with broad green
pastures and plenteous herds. The settlers knew that the
enemy was not far off, and they grew more afraid of attack
with each passing day. They had two strongholds to which
they could flee in case of trouble, Fort Herkimer on one
bank of the river, Fort Dayton on the other; but these
would be of little use to the settlers if they had not
sufficient warning of the approach of the enemy. Mindful
of this, they sent four of their number to act as scouts
and to warn the settlement of any danger. While on this
mission three of the party met with death at the hands
of their adversaries, but the fourth escaped and hastened
back to the German Flatts. One evening, just before
sunset, he arrived with the fearful tidings that Brant
was moving up the river with a large band of Indians and
would soon be upon them. The alarm was spread through
the valley, and men, women, and children gathered up what
articles of value they could take with them in their
hurried flight, and rushed pell-mell to the forts. During
the evening some carried off a portion of their household
effects in small boats. In the meantime Caldwell, commanding
a party of rangers, with Indians under Brant, had come