th was reaching her little hands and laughing. There was only
one thing to do, and I did it. I caught that red-hot poker from the
fire, and stuck it so close her baby's face, that the papoose drew back
and whimpered. I scarcely saw how she snatched it up and left. When
your father came, I told him, and we didn't know what to do. We knew
she would come back and bring her band. If we were not there, they
would burn the cabin, ruin our crops, kill our stock, take everything
we had, and we couldn't travel so far, or so fast, that on their ponies
they couldn't overtake us. We endangered any one with whom we sought
refuge, so we gripped hands, knelt down and told the Lord all about it,
and we felt the answer was to stay. Father cleaned the gun, and hours
and hours we waited.

"About ten o'clock the next day they came, forty braves in war paint
and feathers. I counted until I was too sick to see, then I took the
baby in my arms and climbed to the loft, with our big steel knife in
one hand. If your father fell, I was to use it, first on Elizabeth,
then on myself. The Indians stopped at the woodyard, and the chief of
the band came to the door, alone. Your father met him with his gun in
reach, and for a whole eternity they stood searching each other's eyes.
I was at the trapdoor where I could see both of them.

"To the depths of my soul I enjoyed seeing Leon take the fence and
creek: but what was that, child, to compare with the timber that stood
your father like a stone wall between me and forty half-naked, paint
besmeared, maddened Indians? Don't let any showing the men of to-day
can make set you to thinking that father isn't a king among men. Not
once, but again and again in earlier days, he fended danger from me
like that. I can shut my eyes and see his waving hair, his white brow,
his steel blue eyes, his unfaltering hand. I don't remember that I had
time or even thought to pray. I gripped the baby, and the knife, and
waited for the thing I must do if an arrow or a shot sailed past the
chief and felled father. They stood second after second, like two
wooden men, and then slowly and deliberately the chief lighted his big
pipe, drew a few puffs and handed it to father. He set down his gun,
took the pipe and quite as slowly and deliberately he looked at the
waiting band, at the chief, and then raised it to his lips.

"'White squaw brave! Heap much brave!' said the chief.

"'In the strength of the Lord. A