It was the evening of another warm summer day in New Hampshire. The year was 1785 and like nearly every other frontier family the Leach’s were still working hard to finish up their chores. Bradley Leach told his 8 year old son to take his horse up to the pasture and bring the cows back down for the evening. Jonathan was a smart boy and always did his chores and Bradley was not worried about this last task remaining on the pairs chore list.

Jonathan grabbed the reins of his trusted horse, Mr. Whipple, and started up the dirt road to the upper pasture. Mr. Whipple walked behind Jonathan and nipped at grass as he could reach it along the way. The light was just starting to fade and the boy yawned with satisfaction at the completion of the day.

The pair had traveled about 300 yards to the last pasture when a black blur streaked from the  ...