“Of course it is. Open the door. There’s no danger jest now.”
The settler complied, and the scout stepped within and the door was immediately closed behind him.
“Are the savages gone?” demanded Ned.
“Yes, that is, they are now. I didn’t find but one of ’em there, and I fixed him so that he won’t trouble us ag’in. I guess it puzzled him a little to think where I come from when I landed on his head. But I did not give him a great while to think about it, afore he had a touch of my knife, which done for him so far as this world is concerned.”
Mrs. Wilson and Ruth shuddered. It made their blood run cold to hear him talk so coolly of what to them, despite the circumstances seemed almost like murder.
“And you still think that we had better leave the cabin?” said Ned.
“Of course. If we stay here a half-hour longer we can’t call our ha’r our own. It will be hanging to the belt of some of the red-skins. Get ready as soon as ye can. Don’t take any thing to weigh ye down for we shall have all we can do to get away with our lives I’m afraid.”
“I shall take my pack,” cried the Yankee. “You don’t think I’ll leave that behind, do ye? I had rather leave my ha’r than that. I might get money enough to buy a wig, but I could never get a new pack ag’in.”
“Take it if you want to,” growled Dick; “but I’ll bet a dollar that the red-skins will have the ransacking of it afore you’re out of this scrape. I believe you think more of that bundle than you do of any thing else in the world.”
“I guess you’re right,” chuckled the Yankee. “I do think a master sight of it. Nigh about as much as I should of a wife if I had one. But I’ll be deuced if I ain’t afraid that the rain will spile every thing there is in it. Say, mister, hadn’t we better wait ’till it holds up a little?”