the station but
herself, her son Murtagh, and Miss Burke. All day the blackfellows were
prowling about, and getting more and more insolent, and at night, just
as Murtagh shut the door, they raised their yell, and rushed against
it. Murtagh Donovan and Miss Burke had guessed what was coming all day,
but had kept it from the sick woman, and now, when the time came, they
were cool and prepared. They had two double-barrelled guns loaded with
slugs, and with these they did such fearful execution from two
loop-holes they had made in the slabs, that the savages quickly
retired; but poor Miss Burke, incautiously looking out to get a shot,
received a spear wound on her shoulder, which she bears the mark of to
this day. But the worst was to come. The blackfellows mounted on the
roof, tried to take off the bark, and throw their spears into the hut,
but here they were foiled again. Wherever a sheet of bark was seen to
move they watched, and on the first appearance of an enemy, a charge of
shot at a few yards' distance told with deadly effect. Mrs. Donovan,
who lay in bed and saw the whole, told my father that Lesbia Burke
loaded and fired with greater rapidity and precision than her cousin. A
noble woman, I say."

"Good old Lesbia!" said Sam; "and how did it end?"

"Why, the foolish blacks fired the woolshed, and brought the Delisles
upon them; they tried to fire the roof of the hut, but it was raining
too hard; otherwise it would have gone hard with poor Miss Burke. See,
here is a peach-tree they planted, covered with fruit; let us gather
some; it is pretty good, for the Donovans have kept it pruned in memory
of their escape."

"But the hut was not burnt," said Sam; "where did it stand?"

"That pile of earth there, is the remains of the old turf chimney. They
moved across the river after it happened."

But peaches, when they grow on a high tree, must be climbed for,
particularly if a young and pretty girl expresses a wish for them. And
so it fell out, that Sam was soon astride of one of the lower boughs,
throwing the fruit down to Alice, who put them one by one into the
neatest conceivable little basket that hung on her arm.

And so they were employed, busy and merry, when they heard a loud
cheery voice, which made both of them start.

"Quite a scene from 'Paradise Lost,' I declare; only Eve ought to be up
the tree handing down the apples to Adam, and not VICE VERSA. I miss a
carpet snake, too, who would represent the D--