Cal's conception of beauty lay in thews and sinews.
"But, husband, what will become of us? A hundred Indians, only think of it!—seventy Delawares, twenty Shawanees, and twenty Monseys; and the Delawares are the most bloodthirsty of all. It seems to me that you or Cal ought to go this moment, and rouse the neighbors, and get into the fort before morning: you might both go, but I couldn't be left alone with this Indian."
"Not after he made such efforts to save you and the children's lives?"
"No: I suppose I ought not to feel so, but I cannot help it."
"There's no cause, wife, for alarm, nor for haste. There are no Frenchmen coming, and of course there is no artillery. The fort is well prepared for a much longer siege than is to be apprehended from Indians. It is well provided with water, provisions, and ammunition; and we are all at home, and every man fit for duty, not a disabled man amongst us. There's time enough to move after daylight."
"Most of our provisions are in the fort now," said Cal; "never have been taken away. Every family can move in three hours."
"If," continued Honeywood, "they could have come upon us by surprise, and caught each family in their own home, our case would have been a desperate one; but, forewarned and prepared, it is entirely another matter. Now, wife, you and Cal had better try to get some rest, for to-morrow will be a busy, trying day."
"I can lie down; but as for sleeping, it's no use to think of it."
"Well, lie down, then: 'twill rest you."