Part 21 (2/2)

This was good advice, and f.a.n.n.y needed no persuasion to induce her to follow it. Through the cracks in the side of the barn she could see a few houses of the settlement; and through these apertures came also the hideous sounds which denoted the progress of the ma.s.sacre. Great piles of curling smoke were rising from the burning buildings of the devoted settlers, and the work of murder and pillage still continued, as the relentless savages pa.s.sed from place to place in the execution of their diabolical mission.

The greater part of the detachment which had halted at the house of Mr.

Grant had now departed, though the sounds which came from the dwelling indicated that the rest were still there. Lean Bear knew the members of Mr. Grant's household. With his own hand he had slain the woman who had so often fed him, and ministered to his necessities, thus belying the traditional character of his race; and it was not probable that he would abandon his object without a diligent search for the missing members of the family.

f.a.n.n.y was safe for the present moment, but the next instant might doom her to a violent death, to cruel torture, or to a captivity more to be dreaded than either death or torture. She trembled with mortal fear, and dreaded the revelations of each new second of time with an intensity of horror which cannot be understood or described.

”They are comin' out of the house,” said Ethan, in a tremulous whisper.

”There's seven on 'em.”

”Are they coming this way?”

”No; they are lookin' round arter us. They are going down to the lake.”

”I hope they won't come here.”

”But they will kim here, as sure as you live.”

”Do you ever pray, Ethan?” asked f.a.n.n.y, impressively.

”Not much,” replied he, evasively.

”Let us pray to G.o.d. He can help us, and He will, if we ask Him in the right spirit.”

”I dunno how,” added Ethan.

”I will pray for both of us. The Indians can't hear us now, but G.o.d can.”

f.a.n.n.y, in a whisper, uttered a brief and heart-felt prayer for protection and safety from the savage monsters who were thirsting for their blood. She prayed earnestly, and never before had her supplications come so directly from her heart. She pleaded for herself and for her companion, and the good Father seemed to be very near to her as she poured forth her simple pet.i.tion.

”Thy will, not ours, be done,” she murmured, as she thought that it might not be the purpose of ”Him who doeth all things well” to save them from the tomahawk of the Indians. If it was not His will that they should pa.s.s in safety through this ordeal of blood, she asked that they might be happy in death, or submissive to whatever fate was in store for them.

Ethan listened to the prayer, and seemed to join earnestly in the pet.i.tions it contained. With his more devout companion, he felt that G.o.d was able to save them, to blunt the edges of the weapons raised to destroy them, or to transform their savage and bitter foes into the warmest and truest of friends.

”I feel better,” said f.a.n.n.y, after a moment of silence at the conclusion of the prayer.

”So do I,” replied Ethan, whose altered look and more resolute tones confirmed his words. ”I feel like I could fight some o' them Injins.”

”We can do nothing by resistance.”

”I dunno; if they don't burn the house, I reckon I know whar to find some shootin' fixin's.”

”Where?”

”Mr. Grant sort o' hid his rifle and things, for fear some un might steal 'em, I s'pose. I know where they be; and I reckon them redskins won't find 'em.”

”Let us not think of resistance. There must be hundreds of Indians at the settlement.”

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