When Menegal awoke, it was dawn. He glanced at the tired Hilfarey at his side. Sitting up and trying to rise, he fell backward onto the pallet and realized he could not stand, unless with great pain on account of his ankle.

“You will not be able to stand for a while. Therefore, I have provided this,” said Hilfarey, lifting up a crutch made of wood with some linen tied around the top for comfort. Hilfarey then helped Menegal arise and showed him how to walk with it. After learning to walk in a new fashion, he thanked Hilfarey and went to Golwitch’s tent.

Early in the morning when the sun was just reaching the tips of the mountains, Menegal woke. In the night he was restless and could not sleep, having many dreams of continual feelings of no escape. Throwing off the bedcover, he prepared for the next march.

As the spray of the wooden shields flew through the air, Hildebrand wielded a mighty blow, swinging his scimitar over his son’s head. Ducking the strong and fierce swing, Hadubrant charged into Hildebrand with his steely vambrace posed at his father’s bare knee; and he knocked Hildebrand over. Blood covered the ground.

They started to fight and their shields were smashed into bits and so it was now they started with sword to sword. Hildebrand knew he must not kill his son, but he needed to protect himself from the hard blows.

It was the date April eighteen, the year seventeen seventy-five,
And so t’was that important day the minutemen woke at night.
In sleep they were disturbed by the cries of William and Paul
Letting the English army’s presence be known that night to all.
The next morning a small group waited, it was April nineteen,
And the Englishmen were then there to fight and be seen.
They reached the town of Lexington, and the farmers waited
As the sun rose the moon went down, and so slowly faded.