"Oh, goodness!" she cried. "Try the other one!"
"But the bird is gone."
"Is it? So it is—but, quick! See if you can cut off that twig up there—the one with three red leaves. I wager you cannot! Quick, and then we will ride for home."
"Why are you so excited?"
"I am not the least bit excited—I never am! Why do you not shoot at that twig?"
"You try it," he surprised her by saying, pushing a pistol into her hand. Without a word or aim she blazed away at the sky and his firearms were useless. She handed the smoking pistol to him with a laugh.
"Would it not be awful if Indians came upon us!" she cried, with strange exultation. "But mount, and race with me to the spring!"
As the Captain placed his foot in the stirrup a yell burst from the thicket, an arrow whizzed above their heads, and a half-a-dozen, fierce warriors were dashing toward them.
"Do not use your sword!" she screamed.
Before the bewildered soldier could catch his breath an ugly brave was in the road, not ten feet away, knife in hand. Out whizzed the sword!