A number of mounds in the fields, covered with snow, some bitter recollections and sad stories of plunder, robbery, rapine, and worse, told with gnashing teeth or breaking heart by the firesides, were all that remained of their strange antagonists in the town.

But the little town and the little valley were to be once more the scene of war.

The great game was to be played again, and the little creek of the Assunpink was to run red under its ice and between its banks.
On the twenty-ninth, Washington's troops began to cross the river again.

Two parties of light dragoons were sent on in advance under Colonel Reed, assisted by parties of Pennsylvania riflemen despatched by Cadwalader.

They clung tenaciously to the flanks of Von Donop.
That unfortunate commander had been led away from his camp at Burlington in pursuit of Griffin's gallant six hundred.