he Sunday dresses of the Chattox twins, and
had come in the chest all the way from Arkansas.

In her anxiety mother left the baby with Sarah Dunlap, and came as far as
the trench with me. There, under a wagon and behind the little
breastwork of sand, Jed and I received our last instructions. Then we
crawled out and stood up in the open. We were dressed precisely
alike--white stockings, white dresses, with big blue sashes, and white
sunbonnets. Jed's right and my left hand were clasped together. In each
of our free hands we carried two small pails.

"Take it easy," father cautioned, as we began our advance. "Go slow.
Walk like girls."

Not a shot was fired. We made the spring safely, filled our pails, and
lay down and took a good drink ourselves. With a full pail in each hand
we made the return trip. And still not a shot was fired.

I cannot remember how many journeys we made--fully fifteen or twenty. We
walked slowly, always going out with hands clasped, always coming back
slowly with four pails of water. It was astonishing how thirsty we were.
We lay down several times and took long drinks.

But it was too much for our enemies. I cannot imagine that the Indians
would have withheld their fire for so long, girls or no girls, had they
not obeyed instructions from the whites who were with them. At any rate
Jed and I were just starting on another trip when a rifle went off from
the Indian hill, and then another.

"Come back!" mother cried out.

I looked at Jed, and found him looking at me. I knew he was stubborn and
had made up his mind to be the last one in. So I started to advance, and
at the same instant he started.

"You!--Jesse!" cried my mother. And there was more than a smacking in
the way she said it.

Jed offered to clasp hands, but I shook my head.

"Run for it," I said.

And while we hotfooted it across the sand it seemed all the rifles on
Indian hill were turned loose on us. I got to the spring a little ahead,
so that Jed had to wait for me to fill my pails.

"Now run for it," he told me; and from the leisurely way he went about
filling his own pails I knew he was determined to be in last.

So I crouched down, and, while I waited, watched the puffs of dust raised
by the bullets. We began the return side by side and running.

"Not so fast," I cautioned him, "or you'll spill half the water."

That stung him, and he slacked back perceptibly. Midway I stumbled and
fell headlong.