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The rains came early to the Maine frontier in the fall of 1690. The weather had put a stop
to all harvesting, so the Hiram family sat trapped in their plain log cabin. Eight year old Eva
Hiram sat on the log cabin’s dirt floor listening to the steady tapping of the rain on their thatched
roof.
Eva stood with a sigh and walked towards Sarah, who sat in a rocking chair mending an
apron.
“Come on Sarah,” she said. “Sing me a song.” Ignoring Eva, Sarah continued mending
the apron, her lips pursed. Earlier, Eva had tried to spin cartwheels and ripped her apron and
Sarah had to spend her afternoon fixing it. So, she cursed Eva with every opportunity.
“Bugger off, Eva,” she snapped at her.
“Come on, Sarah,” Eva pleaded. “Sing me a song.”
Eva jumped up and down, wringing her small pink skirt in her hands.
“I said no, Eva, and don’t go ripping that skirt either.” Sarah said.
Eva turned toward the kitchen with a huff. She opened the door and found Quentin
pacing back and forth along the small kitchen’s dirt floor. Ma sat on the ground opposite him,
bottling preserves for the winter.
Quentin didn’t notice Eva as she came into the kitchen. He continued on speaking, red
blotches standing out against his pale face. Eva tugged at his shirt-sleeve, but he ignored her.
“Pa should be home any minute,” he said. “The militia will be with him, I know it!”
Eva saw her mother’s eyes widen. Quentin often spoke of joining the militia when old
enough.
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“I wonder what the Abanakis will do when they see the militia?” He had resorted to using
the broomstick as a bayonet and came dangerously close to knocking over the bottles of
preserves. “I bet that they’ll run away back to the French like the cowards they are.”
Ma took the broomstick and said: “Just wait to hear what your father says, Quentin. We
don’t want any fight with the Indians.”
She stood up and said, “I need some more bees wax from the barn. Keep an eye on Eva.”
Eva saw her opportunity. “Quentin, Quentin. Sing me a song. Sarah’s a stubborn old
goat. Please Quentin.”
Quentin sighed, pushing back a lock of his long brown hair. He peered out the door
where Sarah sat brooding over her knitting. He then turned to Eva and said: “I’ll tell you a story
instead, Eva. Would you like that?”
Eva nodded her head.
“No one told you where Pa is, did they?” Quentin began, “He’s on his way from a
meeting with the governor in Boston. Indians are camped out only a couple of miles away from
our house. Abenaki, the most dangerous in all the frontier. People have seen them talk to
animals. Other people have even seen them turn into animals.”
“That’s silly, Quentin.” Eva blurted out. “No one can turn into an animal!”
Quentin shook his head. “You can deny it, Eva, but John Daemer says that he once saw
an Abanaki double over and started walking on all fours, just like a wolf. The Indian even
started howling and foaming at the mouth.”
“No…” Eva said, wide-eyed. “Go on!”
“That isn’t even the worst of it.” He continued. “Some say the Abanakis are capable of
even savager things.”
3
“Some say that the Abanakis kidnap English kids all the time. They bind their hands and
feet and take them all the way back to New France. Once there, the whole tribe comes out to
celebrate and huge iron pots are filled with water and then set boiling.”
“What do they put in the pot?” Eva asked.
“Why, they put the people in the pot.” He said, grinning. “The Ababakis love to taste
human flesh. They love it like we love custard and strawberries. But their most desired morsel
is…”
“What?” Eva squeaked.
“Well, what the Abanakis love to eat the most is the flesh of little… English…girls.”
“Quentin!” Sarah burst into the kitchen and pounded her older brother with her fists.
“What’s the matter with you? She doesn’t need to hear stories like that.”
Quentin walked away with a chuckle.
“Sarah, do the Indians really want to eat girls like me?” Eva asked.
“No silly, they don’t.” Sarah said, wiping tears from her younger sister’s cheek.
“Quentin is just playing the fool like he usually does. How about we sing some songs?”
Eva had just begun to relax when the front door burst open. Eva screamed, but when she
heard pa’s deep voice, she relaxed. Both he and ma stood inside, wiping away cold rain with a
towel. Eva ran towards him and Pa took her into his arms. She clung to him, her little fingers
digging into her father’s neck.
“What’s spooked you?” Pa asked.
Eva shot Quentin a dirty look.
“So what happened, pa?” Quentin asked. “Is the militia coming?”
4
Pa put Eva gently on the ground and took off his rain soaked wool coat. Quentin
continued his barrage of questions but pa raised his hand: “Easy Quentin. Let me take my time.
The militia isn’t behind me, son. That’s because the militia’s not coming.”
Quentin let out a curse that made Eva blush, but pa ignored it.
“Apparently, the militia is needed to protect those colonists located closer to the
Massachusetts’s border.”
“But what about the Abanakis?” Quentin asked. “They attacked two farms and burned
them to the ground last week.”
Pa sat down at the table and rubbed his left leg. “I got the impression that the trade the
city folk have with the Indians is too important to disrupt. They’ll only care if the Indians come
closer to Boston and settlements along the river. I guess the families like us will have to brave
them on our own.”
“But that’s not fair.” Sarah said.
Pa put his hand on her shoulder, “Sometimes life isn’t fair, Sarah.”
“But what if the Abanakis attack us?” Eva asked.
“Abanakis may be attacking a few farms, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be bothered.” Pa
said. “We’ll all be fine.”
Pa smiled, but Eva noticed that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
His eyes looked cold and lifeless.
*****
5
Eva lay on the long wooden support beam that ran just below their thatched roof. During
the winter, they kept supplies and sometimes small animals stored here, but now it served as her
resting spot.
Eva dangled her legs over the side of the beam as she listened to the rain beat a steady
rhythm on the roof.
“Any rain leaked through yet?” ma asked,
“Dry as a bone,” Eva replied. Her mind wandered and soon it conjured up ghastly
images of large iron pots, with half naked Indians dancing around it. She imagined the awful
writhing of the victims dunked in the water, their screams as they boiled alive.
She could hear their screams, high pitched and terrible. Then she realized, I can actually
hear the screams. They almost sounded like…
Eva quickly climbed down the latter.
“Pa, the dogs are barking,” she shouted. “There’s someone coming this way!”
Pa opened the front door and looked out. He turned to ma saying: “We have visitors,
come on out with me. The rest of you stay here. I don’t want you moving from this cabin.”
Ma and pa rushed out of the house, leaving Quentin, Sarah, and Eva standing in silence.
“Who do you think it is, Quentin?” Sarah asked. “Do you think it might be the militia
after all?” Quentin cracked open the front door, trying to spot the visitors, but then he quickly
slammed the door.
“Sarah, Eva get your coats, we’re going to the barn.”
“Why?” Eva questioned, “Pa said to stay here.”
“I know what he said, but we shouldn’t miss this.” Quentin said.
Eva’s eyes narrowed. “Who did you see?”
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Quentin responded, his face flushed.
“Indians!”
*****
The three children snuck out the front door of the cabin, hoping to avoid their parent’s
gaze. They entered the barn to the mooing of their cow Judith. Eva was the last to enter the barn
and gave Judith a quick pat on the snout.
Quentin and Sarah looked out an opening between two clapboards. Eva nudged in besides
them and peeked through.
Slowly out of the rain came the Abanakis.
“They are animals!” Eva exclaimed.
“Quiet down, Eva!” Quentin snapped, “They’re wearing animal skins.”
Eva eventually saw the men hidden in the animal skins. The one man wore the skins of a
black bear, head included. In the middle of the animal’s jaws, his wrinkled face peered out. The
other man wore the soft, brown fur of a deer, but this man was younger and heavily armed with a
large club and longbow. As the Indians approached, Eva felt that her parents looked defenseless.
“This is wrong.” Quentin said standing suddenly. “Ma and pa should have the musket
with them.”
Sarah held him down saying: “Calm down, Quentin. If they wanted the musket, pa
would have asked. Now, be quiet or we’ll be caught.”
The old man in the black bear skins walked forward and raised his hands. “I am
Namasqueta. But my French fathers call me Uncle John. I am interpreter of my tribe, Abanakis
of the Great Lake.”
7
Pa bowed: “I am Edward Hiram. Thank you for coming to my farm. Who is your
companion?”
Pa motioned to the young Indian in the deerskins. Uncle John said something to him in
their native tongue which to Eva sounded like a bird chirping.
“This is Shinanatook,” Uncle John answered. “In you language, he called Flown Arrow.
He warrior of my people.” Pa bowed to Flown Arrow, but did not receive a greeting in return.
“What can I do for you, Uncle John?” Pa asked.
Uncle John took in a deep breath and Eva wondered at how old the Indian was or if he
was in bad heath. “Edward Hiram.
I come here to relate great anger at wrongs you commit to
Abanaki people.”
“Pray pardon, Uncle John, but what wrongs did I commit to the Abanaki people?” Pa
asked.
“Your presence here is a great wrong, Edward Hiram.” Uncle John said. “You farm
Abanaki land. Your cow tramples on land that Abanaki use to grow corn.”
The rain fell steadier and Eva lost the last bit of conversation between the Abenaki and
her parents. So she asked: “Quentin, what do you think they want?”
“Quentin?” She turned around and did not see him in the barn.
“Oh dear Lord” Eva whispered to Sarah. “Quentin is gone!”
****
The rain subsided and Eva could once again hear the conversation.
“You must excuse my young warrior here, Edward Hiram,” Eva heard the old Indian say.
“He is yet to understand that fighting is not the only solution to problems.”
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Pa bowed in agreement, saying, “Pray go on Uncle John. Please explain how we have
offended your people.”
“Edward Hiram, this land does not belong to you. Yes, Witherspoon of Boston bought
land and paid money, but this land was never for sale. This land Abanaki land, not Huron land.
Huron cannot sell land that not theirs.”
“My former master bought the land, not us, if he was swindled by the Huron then that is
not our fault.” Pa said stubbornly. “We cannot be held accountable for what he did.”
Uncle John translated this to Flown Arrow, who barked back harsh words. Uncle John
turned to Pa, saying. “Edward Hiram, we understand that you and your people are not
responsible for what Huron did. But understand, you are on Abanaki land. But, we are a fair
people…”
Pa took the hint. “I understand, Uncle John. We want no quarrel with you.”
Uncle John translated to Flown Arrow, who grunted approval. “Very good, Edward
Hiram. We can negotiate. The first thing we seek…”
Uncle John did not finish his sentence, for out of the driving rain came the click of a
musket readied to fire.
Eva turned to see Quentin aiming their long barreled musket at the Indians.
“Sarah!” Eva squeaked, “Oh God, he has the musket.”
“Get your filthy hides off our farm, before I shoot you down!” Eva heard Quentin shout.
“Quentin!” Pa screamed, “Put the musket down.”
Eva saw that Flown Arrow had already notched his bow and pointed the arrow straight at
Quentin’s heart. Both Flown Arrow and Quentin stood in a standoff, neither willing to lower
their weapons.
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“Son, please, put the musket down.” Pa said. “Quentin, they are not going to hurt us.”
Rain streamed down Quentin’s face, mingling with tears from his red eyes. “Pa, I don’t
want them hurting you or ma.”
“Quentin, they are not going to hurt us, I promise you.”
Eva saw Quentin hesitate and for a second, it seemed to her like he would put the gun
down. But, then the musket fired in a sharp explosive sound.
All became lost in the musket’s bitter smoke.
Pa leaped at Quentin and snatched the musket from his hand. Pa opened his mouth to
scold his son, but both his words were lost in Eva’s scream.
Eva gaped at the young Indian, Flown Arrow, dead on the wet ground. Quentin’s shot
had gone though his left eye, killing him instantly.
A dry croak came from Uncle John who then grabbed Pa in anger, but age or grief
weakened his grip and he crumpled into Pa’s arms, sobbing. Pa tried consoling him, but Uncle
John slapped away his words with his wrinkled hand. He bent down and grabbed the dead body
by the wrists.
Uncle John dragged the corpse away into the rain without saying another word.
“Why did you do it?” Pa said.
“Pa, they weren’t going to leave without a fight!” Quentin turned to him, a defiant look
on his face. “Now they’ll think twice about coming back to this farm!”
Before pa could respond to him, Eva saw ma rush over to Quentin and backhanded him
across the face.
“Idiot!”
Slap.
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“How could you have been so foolish!?”
Slap.
Pa caught her hand in his, trying to calm her down. Quentin looked at her with shock,
large red welts standing out against his pale face.
“What is the matter with you?” he said, shocked, “I just saved us!”
This time Pa responded and his words chilled Eva down to her bones.
“Quentin, my son,” Pa whispered, “you didn’t save us, you just killed us.”
*****
Since the shooting, chaos reigned in the Hiram household.
Sarah paced back and forth, her constant tread wearing away the dirt floor of their cabin.
She mumbled a series of nervous questions, never receiving a response. She just went on and on
in her fearful monotony.
Quentin sat on the floor, his crying only beginning to taper off. Once back in the cabin,
the gravity of the murder hit him square in the face. He had doubled over and wretched next to
their dinner table.
Eva sat in the corner, watching the drama with sickened fascination.
The shooting pushed pa into a hurricane of activity. He rushed furiously around the
cabin. He had pulled the old window shutters closed and did his best to nail them shut. He then
overturned their only kitchen table and separated it into long wooden planks. He and Ma argued
the entire time:
“Edward, we can’t stay here. We can go get help, maybe from the governor.” She said.
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“Mary, you weren’t at the meeting I was. Nathaniel Mason stood right in front of the
governor. He told him of the killings and the massacres. And the governor just listened silently.
He then had one of his subordinates talk of how valuable the Indians are to trade and how they
will behave themselves. They said nothing to the killings.”
“Edward, please.” Ma pleaded, “There has to be some other way. Someone has to help
us.”
Pa came up to her and put her arms around her:
“Mary, listen to me. This is the only way. If we board up the house and release our
animals, then it will look like we have fled in fear of the Abenaki. We’ll hide in here. If they
take the bait, then we’ll be safe.”
“Edward, what if it doesn’t work?” Ma asked
He took his wife’s face in his hands, saying: “Mary, I will get us through this. Trust
me!”
Pa finished boarding up the windows. He then released their cow, Judith, and their
skinny horse. At the sight of Judith the cow wandering away, Eva broke out into tears, mourning
the loss of her favorite animal.
During dinner, Pa explained his plan to the children. They would hide out in the small
lean-to kitchen Pa had built last year. The kitchen had a door separating it from the rest of the
house. Pa would scatter the remaining wood from the dinner table across the door and hoped
that once hid, anyone searching the house at night would pass right by the door without seeing it.
The next day, they would hike to Nathaniel Mason’s farm, ten miles away.
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Eva finished her gloomy meal and prepared for their night in the kitchen. Ma brought the
bed quilts and smoothed them on the dirt floor. They also used their clothes as cushions. Pa had
ransacked the family’s clothes, taking one item and leaving another.
He hoped that the random missing items would further fuel the idea that the Hiram’s had
abandoned the house in a hurry.
As the sun went down, Pa herded the family into the lean-to kitchen. He grabbed the
candles in the house and brought them and the musket into the kitchen. Before he shut the door,
he secured the remaining pieces of wood in front.
Night brought an end to the rain. The sky cleared and Eva saw silver moonlight shine
through the cracks in the wall. The end of the rain had also brought a heavy silence. Not one of
the Hiram’s talked as night drew on.
The older children had fallen asleep quickly, each drained of energy by the frantic events
of day, but Eva sat wide awake. She watched Ma and Pa take turns guarding the family. Pa had
started the first watch, which had proven uneventful. Ma took over and gave him the chance to
sleep.
As night drew on, Eva felt her eyelids weighing down. Her exhausted body called out for
sleep and she had little remaining energy to put up a good fight. But as her chin hit her chest,
she heard a squelching noise come from outside.
What was that? She wondered. She listened intently, but could only hear deafening
silence. She was about to shrug off the sound as just an animal grazing in their field, when she
heard it again.
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She shook Pa awake. She leaned over him, pressing her mouth as close to his ear as
possible and whispered: “I’ve heard a noise outside. It sounds like feet getting stuck in the mud
and then being pulled out.”
Pa woke Ma up and whispered, saying: “Keep the children quite. They can’t make a
sound.” Ma nodded in agreement, her eyes wide. They listened and heard once more the distinct
sucking sound of a foot being pulled out of the mud.
Ma and pa heard the footsteps lead to the front door. The front door opened and hit the
back wall with a soft thud.
Intruders had entered the house.
Ma could hear their feet crunching on the dirt floor. Very quietly one of the intruders
spoke an Indian word. The crunching sound stopped and once again silence filled the air. Ma
motioned to pa and unspoken question: What are they doing? Pa shrugged his shoulders.
Suddenly, they heard the soft crunching again. This time, however, the footsteps were
now closing in on the back part of the house towards the lean-to kitchen.
Eva grasped Ma’s hand in terror. She could hear her own breath coming in shallow,
fearful gasps.
Pa held the musket in his other hand and was ready to shoot anyone who broke down the
door.
The footsteps walked to the left of the door and to the right of it. Do they see the door?
Eva wondered. She prayed continuously for darkness to hide the door and for the intruders to
leave.
14
Once again they heard the footsteps walk from left to right of the door. But then they
heard another Indian word. At the sound of the word, the footsteps receded from the back of the
cabin.
Eva breathed a sigh of relief. They’ve gone away!
They waited and listened. They waited some more and heard nothing. Pa leaned over to
Ma and whispered: “I think they are gone.”
Ma leaned over him and whispered: “Edward, I have to know for sure. Open the door
and find out.” Pa picked up the musket and went to the door. As he pushed away the wood in
front, it caused a ripping noise that woke up the older children. They began questioning, but Ma
silenced them.
The children huddled together as pa lit a candle. Pa gave Eva a small smile as he opened
the door.
Eva saw her father leave the kitchen, the soft glow of the candle following him into the
cabin. She could hear pa’s footsteps as he searched through the cabin.
She prayed furiously for his safety.
Her heart jumped as he poked his head back into the kitchen. “There’s no one here. I
searched the cabin and saw nothing. I think that we can...wait.”
“What is it pa?” Eva yelped. Pa once again poked his head through the kitchen door.
“It’s nothing, I just got a drop of water on my head. The roof must be leaking. No
problem. Now come on, let’s get out of this kitchen. We can leave for Mason’s in an hour.”
Eva reached the door, something nagging at her mind. What was it?
Nothing, you’re just tired, her mind reasoned, it’s over, we’re safe!
15
Pa pulled Quentin, Sarah, and Eva to their feet and dusted the dirt from their clothes and
Eva coughed. Ma will have to water down some of this dust, she thought. But then, she realized
what had been nagging her. The roof was leaking. But Eva had been directly under the roof
earlier and it hadn’t leaked. She rushed over to Pa saying: “Pa, the roof wasn’t leaking before.”
Pa’s wrinkled his brow in confusion. He lifted the candle up towards the ceiling and
there on the rafter hung a Abanaki warrior. Before Pa could mouth a word, the warrior fell on
him.
Ma screamed.
The children screamed.
Ma shut the door in a panic, but they could hear sounds of a struggle coming from outside
the door.
Eva heard a scream. More sounds of struggle. Then the musket fired, its gigantic roar
ringing her ears. A muffled sound came next, almost like a cry.
“Ma, what’s happening? Where is pa?” Quentin asked.
Ma could barely form words at all. As she could manage was: “Sit down, pa’s fine.
He’ll be fine.”
“At least light a candle, Ma.” Sarah said. Ma fumbled for a candle and found one. She
found the flint and taper and lit the candle. Once again Eva heard the muffled cry coming from
outside. What was happening? Did you shoot him?
Ma paced around the tiny kitchen, wringing her hands in nervousness. Then Eva spoke
up and said: “Ma, there’s a puddle by the door.”
She brought the candle down and illuminated the floor. What Eva had mistaken for water
was blood seeping though the bottom of the door.
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“Oh, Lord,” Ma cried at sight of the blood.
“Ma, who is that crying?” Quentin asked.
“I don’t know, Quentin.” She replied.
“Ma if that is Pa out there, it sounds like he needs our help.” Sarah said.
“I don’t want to open the door.” She admitted.
“Ma, he may be hurt! We can’t just stay in here!” Quentin screamed.
Ma realized that he was right. She walked up the door, careful not to step into the stream
of blood. With a shaking hand she pushed open the door.
There on the ground lay Pa, lying in a pool of his own blood, the top of his head missing.
As Ma dropped the candle in shock, the Wabanaki warrior came from the shadows, Pa’s
scalp in his bloody hands. Three more black shapes rushed into the lean-to kitchen.
Eva never saw the blow that knocked her down. But she did see the scalping knife as it
advanced towards her.
It looked sharp and thirsty.
17
Questions before the reading:
1. Terror on the Frontier deals with a family of former indentured servants living
on an isolated farm in the wilderness of the frontier. What dangers are there to
living far away from other people?
2. What are times in which you’ve been cut off from others? What reaction did you
have to being alone?
3. The historical setting to this tale takes place at the time where the Maine frontier
was constantly under attack from the Wabanaki Indians. If the frontier was so
dangerous, why would settlers risk living there?
Questions during the reading:
1. Describe the Hiram family. What are Eva, Sarah and Quentin and Ma like?
What type of chores are they doing in the beginning of the story?
2. How does Quentin describe the Wabanaki Indians to Eva? Why would settlers
have such a view of Indians? What does Quentin describe the Indians doing to
captives? Do you think this really happened?
3. Why are the Indians at the Hiram farm? How have both the Wabanakis and the
Hirams been tricked?
4. Why is Flown Arrow so angry? Do you think he really wants to negotiate? If so,
why is he armed when Ma and Pa arent’?
5. Why does Quentin act the way he does? What motivates him?
Questions after the reading:
1. Do you think the Hiram family got what they deserved?
2. Do you think the Indians or the settlers are the true villains in the story?