nly the accent of terror
was intelligible. He threw himself off his horse, brandishing his arms.
Afterwards it was known that he wanted the villagers to take refuge in
their houses, but now they only stared the more at him and at the small
army that was approaching.

Susannah heard a shot; then she was deafened by the sound of a volley of
muskets. Paralysed, she stood staring down the road, unable to believe
that the two or three hundred mounted men had deliberately levelled
their muskets and fired. Then all around her she became aware of shrieks
and sobs and prayers that went up to God. The brown-eyed Gentile lady
who stood beside her had fallen in a curious attitude at her feet.

Susannah darted into the emigrants' tent and, putting down the child,
dragged the lady within. She perceived to her horror that the lady was
shot; the bullet had passed through her neck. Not knowing whether she
was dead or dying, Susannah stretched her on the floor. Then she lifted
her hands above her head, wrung them together in agony of nerve and
thought. She remembered afterwards looking upward in the cave of the
warm tent and saying aloud "O God! O God!" many times.

The first thing she saw was her child standing watching her; both his
little brown fists were full of flowers. Hearing the sound of horses
trampling near, loud voices, and occasional shots, she bethought her
that the canvas of the tent was no protection for the child, and,
snatching him in her arms, she ran madly out into the sunshine and into
the open war.

A large number of the horsemen had already passed on down the road; the
sounds that came from them seemed to be of oaths and laughter. A number
were still galloping in and out among the houses; the ground was strewed
with bodies of the dead and wounded; the able-bodied, it seemed, must
have suddenly huddled within their doors.

Susannah remembered her husband now, remembered where he had been
standing. She forgot all else; she rushed toward the middle of the
green, drawing back only when some of the horsemen dashed across her
path to follow their fellows. They stared at her and, as they went,
called to some who were still behind them.

One of these came on, checked his horse, and looked in Susannah's face
insultingly. No doubt her eyes were dazed, and she looked to him like a
mad woman, but she remembered afterwards that the child showed anger
and babbled that the horseman was a bad man. At this the rider took out