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Updated: June 10, 2025
I saw with a start that their firebrands were no longer in their hands, and a moment later a puff of smoke from the corner of the house and the exultant yells of the savages warned me of our new danger. As I turned from the door, I met Brightson coming to seek me with an anxious face. "They have fired the house, Captain Stewart," he said. "I fear so. We must find the place and put out the flames."
"'Twas not flattery," I protested, "but a simple statement of fact. And there is another here," I added, turning to Mrs. Marsh, "whose conduct should be remembered. I have never seen a braver man," and I glanced at Brightson where he sat, his musket across his knees. "I shall remember it," she said, as she followed my eyes. A burst of yells and a piercing cry from below interrupted us.
"They will soon be on us again," said Brightson in a low tone, but round and round they kept dancing, their leader in front in all his war trappings, the others almost naked, and for the most part painted black. No wonder I had been unable to see them in the darkness. "They are going to attack us again, Tom, are they not?" asked a low voice at my elbow.
"What was that?" asked Dorothy, white to the lips. "They have found one of the negroes," I answered, as calmly as I could. "They ran away, and must have hidden somewhere in the house." We sat listening, the women pale and horror-stricken, and even Brightson and I no little moved.
It gave us respite for a moment, but it was certain they would charge again, and I knew too well what the result would be, for the last of the negroes had flung down his gun and run away, leaving only Brightson and me to guard the women. It was Mrs. Marsh who spoke the saving word. "Why not retreat to the roof?" she said. "They could not get at us there."
"The Indians got Brightson down and stabbed him, and just then you sprang up and cried the troops were coming, and sure enough, there they were just entering the clearing, and the Indians paused only for one look and then fled down the stairs as fast as they could go. 'T was you who saved us all, Dorothy." "Oh, but there was something more!" she cried.
Before the Indians understood what was happening, I had dropped beside it, pulled it around to screen me, and was kicking the brands away from the building. Then they understood, and made a rush for the house, but met so sharp a reception from Brightson and his men that they fell back, and contented themselves with keeping up a sharp fusilade upon my place of concealment.
It was the work of only a few moments to kick away the brands and beat out the flames which were running along the side of the house. I signaled to Brightson that I was ready to return, and he opened a heavy fire upon the savages, which drove them for a moment out of musket range. Then throwing the shutter back, he leaned out, grasped my hands, and pulled me into the house without a scratch.
"There is no water," she said very quietly. "The well is a hundred yards from the house." I beckoned to the negroes, who were listening in an anxious group, and hastened back to Brightson. "There is no water," I said to him briefly. "I am going to open the shutter, drop down, and knock the fire away from the house. Do you be ready to pull me back in again, when I have finished."
For there came another chorus of yells from a distance, and I could hear the negro women on the steps behind me wailing softly. "Load!" I shouted. "Load, Pomp! They will be back in a minute," and then I ran to the other door to see how Brightson fared. "All right," he said cheerfully, in answer to my question.
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