 or a playhouse, a Kansas City Public Service announcement. Passenger receipts are no longer able to carry Kansas City Public Service company's cost of living load. Thus, an emergency fare increase is necessary if adequate service is to be maintained. Central standard time at the tone, nine o'clock. Remember a hallmark card when you carry enough to send the very best. Right from Hollywood, the makers of hallmark greeting cards bring you an exciting dramatization of an unforgettable story on the hallmark playhouse. Night story was chosen from the world of fiction by one of the world's best-known authors. Hallmark is proud to present the distinguished novelist, Mr. James Hilton. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight on the hallmark playhouse, we are presenting Drums Along the Mohawk by Walter D. Edmonds. You know, Mr. Edmonds was born and raised in the historic region he writes about. And he is used with great skill the raw material of America's early days, that saga of gallantry and endurance, of battles against nature, as well as with the Indians. Indians, you know, Mr. Hilton, nowadays we tend to think of the Indians as characters in boy's stories. He has that true, or else we're influenced by our sympathy for the friendly, decent, and rather sad people who are their living descendants today. Consequently, many of us find it hard to imagine the terror in which the Indians were held by the early settlers as they pushed up the valleys from the eastern seaboard. One of those valleys is Mr. Edmonds's Mohawk, which descends to the Hudson River near Albany. Last year, I drove across America from coast to coast, traveling incidentally about 10,000 miles and taking six weeks for the job, which is perhaps the best way to make such a trip. And the last lap across New York state was down the Mohawk valley, still rich in the beauties of the countryside, but also clustered with busy industrial cities. As I drove, I couldn't help remembering Mr. Edmonds's fine story and the great days it told off. But before we begin, here's Frank Goss, who has a message from the people who bring you these stories. There are hallmark cards for every memorable occasion on your calendar, for birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, yes, for every occasion that calls for remembrance, for a friendly greeting, a word of good cheer, an expression of sympathy. There is a hallmark card that says just what you want to say, the way you want to say it, and that identifying name on the back, hallmark. Well, that says you cared enough to send the very best. And now here is James Hilton and drums along the Mohawk. You are about to hear the story of the American Revolution, not in terms of valley forge in Yorktown, but as it was endured in the deep woods and on the exposed farms, as the settlers fought Indians led against them by white renegades who had sold out to the enemy. If you live here in the Mohawk, you always keep listening for the sound of drums. You can't hear them. You know that they're there anyhow, somewhere just beyond the next hilltop, just out of sight. Name was Magdalana. And to me, she was more beautiful than any woman had ever been, or ever would be. She lived back in the sheltered part of the valley, and I saw her once and dreamed about her for months afterward. I wondered if you'd be riding our way again, Gil. I told you I'd be back. I know. But in this country, you can never count on keeping a promise like that. I knew I was coming back. All these months, I've been carrying the picture of you around inside of me. I've been saying your name over and over. Magdalana. Magdalana. Until it became like my heartbeat. Come evening, I'd look out over my land and I'd see you running across it with your arms outstretched. And I'd think that's the way it has to be. Oh, Gil. Gil. As I cut the logs for the cabin, I thought, these logs will keep Magdalana safe and warm. As I built the fireplace, I thought, here, Magdalana and I will sit, plan, and dream together. And as I built the door, I thought, no one but Magdalana shall ever open it to me. It's taken all these months to build the house. Now it's ready. Oh, darling. Darling, if you knew how many nights I've waken late, thinking I heard your horse on the road, if you knew how many mornings I've run down the hill, thinking I heard your voice in the wind, you knew how many times I prayed, oh, Lord, keep him safe and let him come back to me. Oh, my dearest, my own darling. And I was so frightened because twice our men went up close to the frontier when word came that the war parties were out. My father told us how the Indians came at night. And now the bodies look, their heads run, bleeding with the scalp. My darling, please don't think about it. This is the beginning for us. Let's not talk of death or endings. Love and hate and fear go hand in hand in the Mohawk dumps. We have this day to love, but whether there will be another, we never know. You're young to be so bitter. I found my grandfather's body in the snow in house seven. You don't forget those things. You learn in one indelible moment that nothing is permanent, life least of all. I'll show you homes that are permanent. I'll introduce you to the people who've raised their children in this valley and who love it. I'll keep you safe if you'll have me. With you beside me, I'd have everything a man could ever wish for. A skill to be beside you would be all that a woman could ever pray for. Hey, Magdalana, take thee, Gilbert, to be my wedded husband for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, and sickness and in health, until death do us part. Donna and I began our journey down the Mohawk. The air was cool and sweet on our faces. The taste of new country was on our lips. And all the world was ahead of us. You know something, Gil? I want five sons, and I want them all to look just like you. Why five? Well, four aren't enough. Six of each are noisy. No, five is just perfect. She smiled up at me, and suddenly love of her, of the land that we were going to till together, surged up in me with a new joy for all the years to come. And the land were at peace that afternoon. And I prayed to God as I rode beside her that the peace would last for her and for the Mohawk. Oh, we began the new days. It was a rich, golden summer for us and for the Mohawk Valley. She worked beside me in the fields, and her hair was like a fire in the sunlight. And at night, she'd fuss with a picture or the position of a chair or a curtain. Her face was something you'd want to memorize. Sometimes our closest neighbor, Mrs. Weaver, would come over in the evening. Let me get you a cold drink of milk, Mrs. Weaver. Thanks. Don't mind if you do. Where's George? Well, he had to go over to Captain D'Amuse on business, so he just let me off the gate. But he'll stop in on his way back. Well, I must say, you fixed the house up real pretty, Landon. I'm glad you like it. And you're certainly lucky to have that cow. Only one out on this far of the country. The reels used to have one, but the engines got him. So what's that feather on top of the cabinet? Oh, well, let me show you. It's a peacock feather. My grandmother gave it to my mother when she went rest, and my mother gave it to me. So I'd have a reminder of home, always in sight. Like a feather from an angel's wing. It's beautiful, isn't it? Well, has George had any news about Mustard Day? Well, they're still having it tomorrow. The man stopped by this morning and told us they'd had a raid down the valleyways. There was white men painted up like engines, and they were fighting right along with them. That sounds like Walter Butler and his gang. White men fighting with the Indians? They come over the border from Canada and do whatever damage they can. I wonder how the war is progressing. Well, so isolated back here, it's almost like we're fighting another war. Well, I hear tell they took the statue of King George that stood in New York and melted it up for bullets. And they're firing them at his majesty's men. Lana, would you like to get down and stay with Mrs. Weaver tomorrow while I'm away? Oh, you better come, dearie. No point staying here all alone. Kinda gets on your nerves. Just you and the woods and those drums out there. No, I think I'll stay here. Well, but tell you. I've got to, Gil. I've never stayed here alone. I've got to. I hated to leave her alone, but somehow I felt that this was a battle she wanted to fight herself. When I got home that evening, she was very quiet. She hardly said a word at supper. Lana, you haven't eaten a bite. I'm not hungry. Is something wrong? No, not really. What was that? Somebody's coming. Who is it? Can't see anyone. There acts like it was an Indian. Why do you say that? See a stump or a hook, she doesn't like their smell. Well, chop the door, Gil. No. You aren't going to stand there in plain sight like that, are you? What's got into you, Lana? Get over to the table and sit down. No need to act like a scared rabbit just because a horse has seen a man. But, Gil. Sit down. Quiet. It's blowback, Lana. He's a friendly Indian. Hello, blowback. Come on in. How? You fine? Me fine. Shake hands. Well, I got married since I saw you last. Meet Mrs. Martin. Lana, this is blowback. Fine. How do you do? Well, sit down, blowback. Was there any milk left, Lana? We haven't any rum, but blowback likes milk. Fine, don't you? Fine. Well, get two cups and pour him some. You can pour it yourself. Let's get into her. She's been skittish all day. What are you doing this way? Look, for dear. Found tracks to Seneca Indians. We think trouble come again. Seneca send word my tribe weeks ago. War party on way. We mind our business. Thanks for letting me know. That's all right. Me like you. Fine friends. Me, you. I go now. I cut you willow switch. You got fine woman. Beat her a little. She'd be better. Yeah, I guess I will have to do something. Pouring the cup, that thing, blank out of. Lana, you had no right acting way you did in front of blowback. You could have poured him some milk. Am I supposed to feed him so we can scalp us next week? He's one of Reverend Kirkland's Indians. He's a good Indian. Good Indian. Lana, he came to tell me that there's trouble coming. The Seneca's are on the war path. He did? There's no way that they're coming in this direction or not, but he wanted us to be warned. What will we do? Just like we have been, but we'll keep our eyes open. We'll complete our harvest, and then we'll have the loud rolling just as we plan. Oh, I'm sorry, Gil. I'm sorry. I don't know what possessed me to act like that, but to see that Indian inside our own house. I know how you feel. There are few enough that are friendly to us. We have to do our best to keep that friendship. Till there is something that I think I'd better tell you. What? In maybe five months, we're going to have a baby. Baby? Lana, that's wonderful. Our first son, we're going to call him Gilbert. Oh, my darling. My darling. I can tell you never can say what you want to say at the biggest moments in your life. All I could do was hold it close and say her name over and over. The weeks that followed were busy weeks. We worked at Thiever Pitch. We kept listening, listening, and then finally it was the day for the loud rolling. The neighbors came from miles around with oxen and horses to help pull the logs into the windrows for burning. It was both a way of clearing the land and having a holiday. The women sat on the porch watching while we hoisted and shouted and got the logs piled where we wanted them. Oh, I got deep soil in here. Watching the shape of an Indian at the far edge of the burning, running towards us through the smoke. I could feel my heart pounding. I looked back at Lana standing motionless on the porch. And for the first time, I felt my throat parched with fear. Then as the Indian came closer, we recognized bluebacks stripped to the waist. Blueback, come on. Big war party. Be here one hour. Maybe quicker. You go stockade quick. You all go quick. The stockade as fast as we can is a war party on the way. You pack loads. I help. Get blanked. What about the cow? We'll have to leave her. Suppose they bring the cow? Darling, we can't stop to talk. Just get the things you need. We have a long way to go. Yes, yes, yes. Hurry, hurry. Warfighter travel fast. You drive fast. I see you. Bye-bye. Oh, thanks. You're a good friend, blueback. Sure. Bye, friend. Thank you for all your help, blueback. Maybe we will be seeing you again. Sure, but you go now. Men come pretty fast soon. Right, men with them. Order butler. Moment will return to the second act of tonight's story. But first, I'd like to tell you a story about a prominent journalist who learned something very worthwhile early in his career. As a cub reporter, his assignments were routine, covering uneventful daily occurrences. And he became impatient with his progress. One day, he approached his city editor and asked for a more important assignment. More important, the city editor exclaimed, you have an important job right now. You're writing about people. Forget about yourself. See with their eyes. Hear with their ears. Speak through their lips. Do that and every assignment you get will be important. Seeing things through other people's eyes is important. It creates understanding, sympathy, warmth. The qualities you'll be quick to recognize in hallmark cards. For those who make hallmark cards believe that anything as personal as a greeting card must have an extra measure of thoughtfulness. That's why hallmark cards always seem to say just what you want to say, the way you want to say it. That's why too, your friends get an extra measure of satisfaction when they turn the card over, as you did, and see the name hallmark, the name that tells your friends you cared enough to send the very best. Now, James Hilton continues with the second act of the story he's chosen for tonight. Walter D. Edmonds drums along the Mohawk. Gil and Lana's wagon platter down the rough road. They pass the wagons of neighbors and friends all headed for the stockade. It was a night of terror and agony and torment for the settlers. On the road it lies. We can hear the warning bell. Will she live? Yeah. No point in getting riled up now. I think she'll live. It's so quiet. You wouldn't think so many people could be this quiet, would you? Yes. It was a boy. One of the scouts just brought word that they burned every cabin in the settlement out of the ground. Cow's dead, too. Deer feels nothing but a wilderness again. Yes, I heard, but land's been cleared. It won't be hard to get going again. Look, done. Yesterday was their day. But there's a tomorrow coming that'll be ours. And when that day comes, we'll have our homes again in peace. There'll be no more drums along the Mohawk. Emma? Yes, Emma. This morning. Isn't it funny that there should be morning? And there's nothing but night upon the land. By the darling. She turned away from me. She doesn't know what she's doing this morning. She'll be a while getting over this. Give her my own life if I could. No, I know. I know. But a man has his wars to win, and a woman has hers. And sometimes, the most one can do for the other is pray. They'd made a flag out of ammunition shirts and a blue cloak and a woman's red petticoat. The women stood at the entrance to the stockade, watching us go. When we reached the height of the hill and could look back, they were still watching. I waved with the others. Then we followed the flag out of sight, into the valley of the Mohawk, and marched for days without any sign of action. We marched, and our temp was shortened with our rations. There was a deadly stillness on all sides of us. Until suddenly, she gets to me as soon as she comes in. It's not the foolish attack. It works wonders. Let me help you to your feet, Bob. You only got creased in one arm. Me, I lost a ear. They quit, Bob. They're all gone. We licked them. Come on, we'll dock and fix you up. We won. You bet we won. So last of them will be seen in these parts for a good long time. Come on, Dr. Petrie's over yonder. Funny. What? I wondered what it'd be like if we won. I thought we'd be shouting, screaming, and laughing that it makes your little sick at your stomach, doesn't it? Tell it to your sons when you're pushing your plough across the valley of earth. Tell them how this earth was consecrated with blood and what price was paid to set the Mohawk Valley less than 800. I know, but it's all over. We can go back to deer peels now, can't we? Since taking Cornwallis in Virginia, the Indians are driven out of the Mohawk. We can live on the land now. Oh, my dear, I love you so much. So very much. And in that manner, I came back to her. And I knew she was mine as she'd never been before. And that she would be mine as long as we both should live. And so once more, we packed our belongings back on their wagons, headed our horses back into the valley of the Mohawk. There's our land, darling. You see? It's even more beautiful than I remember. Acting just like she did the day you said she smelled an Indian. I'll say she is. Or she does. You find me fine. She can. Blueback! Well, Blueback, I'm glad to see you. How are you? You build hearts again? I certainly am. I help. I bring something, Miss Martin. I keep for you. Blueback, you're wonderful. Wendy's smart, Blueback. Oh, how peaceful it is. How beautifully quietly peaceful. We'll never hear them again, will we, Kill? No. I don't think you'll ever hear any drums along the Mohawk again. Get him! James Hilton will return to tell you about next week's story. Meantime, I'd like to remind you that there's nothing like one of those colorful hallmark dolls from the land of make-believe to make a child's eyes light up with joy. There are 16 dolls in all. Little Miss Muffet, Cinderella, Little Boy Blue, and 13 other childhood favorites. Each one wears a hat topped off by a jaunty plume that's a real feather. Each doll stands up by itself. And each one has a clever rhyme story about the doll inside. Children really love them. Grown-ups do, too, because hallmark dolls are the perfect answer on many an occasion. A children's party, for instance. You couldn't ask for nicer favors or more appropriate place cards than these unique hallmark dolls. Or as rewards for good behavior, children will be as good as good can be when they know that the reward for faithfully following your instructions will be a new and different hallmark doll to add to their collection. And remember, these colorful, feather-hatted hallmark dolls are just as grand for children who live far away from you as for those in your own home. Hallmark dolls, you see, are just as easy to send as any hallmark greeting card and they cost only 25 cents each. You'll see all 16 of the charming and colorful hallmark dolls tomorrow at the store where you'll buy your hallmark greeting cards. Now here again is James Hilton. Next week, we present State Fair by Phil Stong, a story far from the times when the drums sounded along the Mohawk. In fact, it's a tale of only yesterday and of the flowering of that destiny which the early settlers fought for. America, during those 150 years, had pushed westward and grown prosperous. She had also become a nation of comfortable homes and friendly neighbors. They had their fun, too, and all this is gathered together by the skill of the novelist and woven into the richly-patterned story of State Fair. And the following week, we present To Mary with Love by Richard Sherman, a warm-hearted romance against the background of the big city. So please be listening next Thursday and until then, this is James Hilton saying, good night. The story was adapted for radio by Jean Holloway. Our music was composed and conducted by Lynn Murray. In our cast tonight were Lerene Tuttle and Jeff Chandler as Lana and Gil Morton with Myra Marsh, Bill Conrad, and Ed Begley. Look for hallmark cards that are sold only in stores that have been carefully selected to give you expert and friendly service. Remember, hallmark cards when you carry enough to send the very best. Now this is Frank Goss saying good night to you all until next week at the same time when James Hilton returns to present State Fair. This is PBS, the Columbia Broadcast. This is KMBC, Kansas City, Missouri.