ce?"

"Doctor Voorhes," replied Mrs. Helm, "let us not waste the few moments
which yet remain in idle or ill-founded hopes. Our fate is inevitable; we
must soon appear at the bar of God; let us make such preparations as are
yet in our power."

"Oh," said he, "I cannot die; I am unfit to die! If I had a short time to
prepare! Death! oh, how awful!"

At this moment, Ensign Ronan was fighting at a little distance with a tall
and portly Indian; the former, mortally wounded, was nearly down, and
struggling desperately upon one knee. Mrs. Helm, pointing her finger, and
directing the attention of Doctor Voorhes thither, observed, "Look," said
she, "at that young man; he dies like a soldier."

"Yes," said Doctor Voorhes, "but he has no terrors of the future; he is an
unbeliever."

[Illustration: THE MASSACRE.]

A young savage immediately raised his tomahawk to strike Mrs. Helm. She
sprang instantly aside, and the blow intended for her head fell upon her
shoulder; she thereupon seized him around his neck, and while exerting all
her efforts to get possession of his scalping-knife, was seized by another
Indian and dragged forcibly from his grasp. The latter bore her,
struggling and resisting, toward the lake. Notwithstanding, however, the
rapidity with which she was hurried along, she recognized, as she passed,
the remains of the unfortunate surgeon stretched lifeless on the prairie.
She was plunged immediately into the water and held there, notwithstanding
her resistance, with a forcible hand. She shortly, however, perceived that
the intention of her captor was not to drown her, as he held her in a
position to keep her head above the water. Thus reassured, she looked at
him attentively, and, in spite of his disguise, recognized the "white
man's friend." It was Black Partridge.

When the firing had ceased, her preserver bore her from the water and
conducted her up the sand-bank. It was a beautiful day in August. The
heat, however, of the sun was oppressive; and, walking through the sand,
exposed to its burning rays, in her drenched condition--weary, and
exhausted by efforts beyond her strength--anxious beyond measure to learn
the fate of her friends, and alarmed for her own, her situation was one of
agony.

The troops having fought with desperation till two-thirds of their number
were slain, the remainder twenty-seven in all, borne down by an
overwhelming force, and exhausted by efforts hitherto unequalled, at
length sur