me, against the dark brown of her soft curls.

Where she stood she could see the water of the spring near the edge of
the forest sparkling in the sunlight, as if it wished to tantalize her,
but as she looked a thought came to her, and she acted upon it at once.
She went to the little square, where her father, John Ware, Ross and
others were in conference.

"Father," she exclaimed, "I will show you how to get the water!"

Mr. Upton and the other men looked at her in so much astonishment that
none of them replied, and Lucy used the opportunity.

"I know the way," she continued eagerly. "Open the gate, let the women
take the buckets--I will lead--and we can go to the spring and fill them
with water. Maybe the Indians won't fire on us!"

"Lucy, child!" exclaimed her father. "I cannot think of such a thing."

Then up spoke Tom Ross, wise in the ways of the wilderness.

"Mr. Upton," he said, "the girl is right. If the women are willing to go
out it must be done. It looks like an awful thing, but--if they die we
are here to avenge them and die with them, if they don't die we are all
saved because we can hold this fort, if we have water; without it every
soul here from the oldest man down to the littlest baby will be lost."

Mr. Upton covered his face with his hands.

"I do not like to think of it, Tom," he said.

The other men waited in silence.

Lucy looked appealingly at her father, but he turned his eyes away.

"See what the women say about it, Tom," he said at last.

The women thought well of it. There was not one border heroine, but
many; disregarding danger they prepared eagerly for the task, and soon
they were in line more than fifty, every one with a bucket or pail in
each hand. Henry Ware, looking on, said nothing. The intended act
appealed to the nature within him that was growing wilder every day.

A sentinel, peeping over the palisade, reported that all was quiet in
the forest, though, as he knew, the warriors were none the less
watchful.

"Open the gate," commanded Mr. Ware.

The heavy bars were quickly taken down, and the gate was swung wide.
Then a slim, scarlet-clad figure took her place at the head of the line,
and they passed out.

Lucy was borne on now by a great impulse, the desire to save the fort
and all these people whom she knew and loved. It was she who had
suggested the plan and she believed that it should be she who should
lead the way, when it came to the doing of it.

She felt