lched out through the open door, and the sharp reek of burnt
powder filled the air. The gun jumped right over the chocks set behind
its wheels and flew back about six feet.

In the aftermath of the cannon's roar came whoops of delight from nearly
a hundred small boys in the blockhouse.

Then Nicole heard the Indians screaming again, but now they were screams
of agony, not war cries. A fierce joy rose in her as she stood in the
open doorway and saw the yard of the trading post transformed into a
vision of Hell. Through the haze she saw dark bodies sprawling on the
ground. Some of the Indians writhed in the dust of the yard, some were
motionless. Others were frantically pulling the fallen back, dragging
them by the arms or legs. The log they were going to use to batter down
the door lay smouldering, abandoned in the yard of the trading post.

As she took in more of the sight of blood and torn bodies and severed
limbs, Nicole felt ashamed that she had rejoiced at first. Sickened, she
turned away.

"Fire your rifles!" David Cooper yelled. "Shoot, shoot, shoot! Keep them
on the run. And shut that damned door."

"Let me at the port, Maw," Tom demanded.

The rifles banged away, sounding puny in Nicole's ears after the roar of
the cannon. Finally Cooper ordered an end to the shooting.

"If we let 'em drag their dead out of here, they may be in a mood to
leave."

Nicole waited in dread, wondering whether the Indians would come again.
The sunset rays pouring through the ports on the west side of the
blockhouse slowly faded, leaving the main room dark. People lit more
candles. David Cooper directed the reloading of the cannon.

The group in Raoul's office were singing hymns again, and many people
sitting around the hall joined them. Nicole sat beside Pamela Russell on
a bench and took her hand, and soon Pamela began to talk quietly. She
told Nicole things about Burke, the books he enjoyed reading, his
favorite dishes, jokes he used to tell her.

"I always envied you, Nicole, with so many children. We wanted children
so much, and we never got any. And now we'll never--"

Nicole tried to think of something to say, but everything that came to
her sounded foolish to her mind's ear. Looking at Frank standing by a
port, she thought, _I have been blessed, and Pamela hasn't been. But
why?_ That had to mean something. She couldn't think what.

"It helps me, when life is hard, to believe that God has a plan," she
said, patting