tly
into the face of the first warrior, and served the second in the same
way with the other barrel when he was less than four feet away. Then,
tomahawk in hand, she rushed forward. In judging Mary Newton, one must
consider time and place.

But happily there was no need for her to use her tomahawk. As the five
rushed in, four of them emptied their double-barreled pistols, while
Henry swung his clubbed rifle with terrible effect. It was too much
for the Senecas. The apparition of the armed woman, whom they had left
bound, and the deadly fire from the five figures that sprang upon them,
was like a blow from the hand of Aieroski. The unhurt and wounded fled
deep into the forest, leaving their dead behind. Mary Newton, her great
deed done, collapsed from emotion and weakness. The screams of the
children sank in a few moments to frightened whimpers. But the oldest,
when they saw the white faces, knew that rescue had come.

Paul brought water from the brook in his cap, and Mary Newton was
revived; Jim was reassuring the children, and the other three were in
the thickets, watching lest the surviving Senecas return for attack.

"I don't know who you are, but I think the good God himself must have
sent you to our rescue," said Mary Newton reverently.

"We don't know," said Paul, "but we are doing the best we can. Do you
think you can walk now?"

"Away from the savages? Yes!" she said passionately. She looked down at
the dead figures of the Senecas, and she did not feel a single trace of
pity for them. Again it is necessary to consider time and place.

"Some of my strength came back while I was lying here," she said, "and
much more of it when you drove away the Indians."

"Very well," said Henry, who had returned to the dead camp fire with
his comrades, "we must start on the back trail at once. The surviving
Senecas, joined by other Iroquois, will certainly pursue, and we need
all the start that we can get."

Long Jim picked up one of the two younger children and flung him over
his shoulder; Tom Ross did as much for the other, but the older two
scorned help. They were full of admiration for the great woodsmen,
mighty heroes who had suddenly appeared out of the air, as it were,
and who had swept like a tornado over the Seneca band. It did not seem
possible now that they, could be retaken.

But Mary Newton, with her strength and courage, had also recovered her
forethought.

"Maybe it will not be better to go on the back