The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1889-05-07

a steel axe or Ratchet. At last the path
was marked distinctly by woodmen's
blazes, which they all understood. No
one needed urging now. The footmen
fairly ran, Rachel Clendenin, with her
brother leading the file. AS she came out
from the forest, into what was evidently
a partly opened clearing, she sprang upon
the trunk of a large buckeye which had
fallen, and, with an instant gesture, com
manded the silence of the rest. Curwen,
who was the next of the party, sprang
from his horse, and stood in an instant by
her side.
They could see the settlers cabin, the
thick smoke from the chimney marked
the hour. But the girl pointed to what
no one could have failed to see-two
giant Indian forms, one at each side of
the little window of the cabin-evidently
watching it to prevent escape. What
was at the door they could not see.
Zapoly raised his rifle, but Rachel flung
it down; and she was right. All the men
in succession sprang from the fallen log.
Two of the party, with more spirit than
could have been expected, rushed toward
the window. AS they did so, they drew
shots from different quarters, for the little
clearing was watched from more points
than the fallen buckeye. None the less
did Clendenin lead, and Curwen follow.
Upon the door, when they could see it.
n of the savages was swinging a heavy
tomahawk. The wood gave way as he
did so, and instantly a puff of smoke from
within followed the blow. The besieged
party had fired. No one seemed to be
hurt by the shot. Curwen could see all
this as he ran. 1t seemed as if his feet
were tied. He leaped from ridge to ridge
of the %ploughed land, Clendenin still two
or three steps in front of him. The three
Indians shouted in scorn as the shot
passed them, but were not prepared for
the sally which followed. The cabin door
flew open, and before they really knew
it, two large men sprang from the house
and grappled with the two nearest of the
savages. All four went over together.
The fifth man, a tall Shawnee, without an
instants pause, raised his tomahawk,
aimed a blow at the head of one of tho
whites, and then, before he could deliver
it, fell back dead, with his weapon in his
hand. All this Harry Curwen saw as he
ran perhaps fifty paces-it seemed as If
those PAGES would never be taken.
He could see the knives of the wrest-
ling men fash in the air. He could see
Clendenin fling. himself upon the first
group. Then, as he closed with the sec
ond, it was clear that his help was not
needed there. A cry within reminded
him Of the two men at the window. He
pushed at the door. TWAS bolted against
him.
But a woman's voice cried out "BuTl
skin you know me- Open this door and
l kill you"
awe are friends-friends, gasped Cur
wen. "Do not 6re-the redskins are all
down"
The door flew open. "Harry, is it
your" And Sarah Paris dropped the
useless rifle from her hands.
To him it was almost of course that il
should be she. For all these many days,
his terror had been the agonized question,
where was she in the midst of these hor-
rors For her, it was as if he had fallen
from the sky.
But there was not an instant for curl
osity. He seized her gun, and turned to
the =, groups behind him. But here his
help was not needed. The boldness of
the sally had succeeded. One of the In
dams had been stabbed to the heart by
Cephas Titcomb in the first blow which
he gave. The other had fallen heavily
against an untrimmed stump, and had
been for the moment stunned by the blow.
Nathan Choate had both his hands around
the mans neck, and both his thumbs
squeezed tight upon his windpipe. Glen
DENNIS fall upon the two had perhaps
discomposed Choate at first as much as
A. oAIo~ DIT H1on1onin xroc wiry ord
quick, and before Curwen could come into
the fray, he and Cephas Titcomb had
pinioned the fallen warrior. At the mo-
ment, no one knew that one and another
musket ball struck here and there around
them. But, after it wa over, Titcomb
found a stream of blood running down
his leg, and knew for the first time that .
shot had grazed his side, cutting open his
hunting shirt, and, as he said, lettin'
down my braces" No one stopped yet
to speak even except in a word. Led by
Curwen, all rushed to the other end of
the house. But here they only met the
S%cotchman with Zapoly and Rachel Glen
denim; the others had kept themselves
sheltered in the wood. Rachel herself
was the only person who showed any
prudence; it was she who had led them
around to that side OF the cabin, where
they would be under cover.
Harry Curwen had no experience for
the occasion. Strange to say, Cephas
Titcomb, the Newbury s~hip-builder, was
the born soldier now, who directed the
re-loading of the empty guns, who
stationed each man at the right point, at
the same time taking care that the prison
ers were dragged into the shelter of the
cabin. The skulking soldiers conde-
scended to appear after all firing was
over. And it was clear enough. after
five minutes, that the outlying Indian
scouts had abandoned their posts and
fed. The two men at the window had
both been wholly surp ised. One of
them lay dead, killed by a pistol shot; the
other was a prisoner.
A rapid council was held as TO pursuit
of. the disappointed red mn. There were
but three of them, or at most four. OF
fba whi+ao ne hofb parfiac fharo were