The Moravian Mission

settlers that had joined the soldiers along the way talked of the Indians who lived in this area among the white settlers. Some men spoke against the converted Indians who lived at a Moravian Mission not far away. They were sure the Indians were sneaking out after dark and taking part in the raids happening. Drunken men got each other stirred up and agitated. The more they drank and talked the crazier they became. Some of them rode out to the Moravian mission with hatred in their hearts and liquor surging hot in their hearts and veins. They broke in on the peaceful Indians who had no warning that anything was wrong. The Christian Indians, confused and not understanding what was happening didn't even run away at first. Then, when they realized
The soldiers used any ghastly means they could to destroy. It was war at its cruelest. Some victims even burned to death, lying wounded in the searing heat of the flaming wood and bark longhouses. Some were trampled by horses and charging horses as soldiers chased them down. Fields of ripening crops were set afire and exploded into tall orange walls of fire in the dryness of August day. Soldiers cut belts of bark all around the trunks of apple and peach trees that had been cultivated for generations so they would die. Any cattle or animals were slaughtered in the riot and glut of the massacre. The sky was black with huge, billowing plumes of smoke and the air was heavy with the acrid smell of burning longhouses and flesh. When they were finished not even a hand-woven basket had escaped conversion to smoldering black ashes. Everything was "laid to waste" as General Washington had commanded and the soldier's felt full with the success of their surprise attack. They whooped and hollered and danced around congratulating each other among the slaughtered bodies of Indians. Generations of wisdom and heritage died that day on Seneca Lake.
Ahmeya had left the longhouse early in the morning carrying her little daughter Kuskusky with her. Mahonoy had not been feeling well and Ahmeya wanted to gather some herbs to brew a healing tea for her. She walked deep into the woods that rose above the village and
The soldiers hooted and hollered at the sight as if it were entertainment. Ahmeya's tear filled eyes blurred her vision as she searched for the people of her longhouse. Off to the side, by the stream where they washed clothes, she saw an old woman crouching down and Tamataunee, her brave husband, standing over her. A horse rider charged at them both, swinging his saber in the air above his head. Ahmeya watched in horror, hugging her baby as the rider sliced at Tamataunee. He managed to duck the saber and raised his tomahawk to fight back, but before he could strike a blow at his attacker, another man using a long rifle, shot Tamataunee. He fell to his knees, looked up at the saber-carrying horseman, who then kicked him in the head. It snapped backwards and he fell to the ground with a thud. Ahmeya could now see the old woman was her beloved Mahonoy. She raised her arms as if pleading with the rider and was quickly run through with the already bloodied