“Yes. What is it? I felt so sick and strange.”
I was lying on my back looking up at my father, who was bending over me bathing my forehead with cold water.
“The sun—a little overdone. There, you are better now.”
“Ah, I recollect,” I said, “Where are the Indians?”
“Hush! Don’t get excited. They are gone now.”
“Yes, I know,” I said; “gone to Colonel Preston’s.”
“Hist!” he cried, as I heard steps close by, and Morgan came hurrying up.
“Couldn’t get far, sir. I was making haste, and getting close up to the last man as I thought, when three of the savages jumped up just in my path, and held up their bows and arrows in a way that said, plain as any tongue could speak, ‘go back, or we’ll send one of these through you.’”
“The chief knows what he is about,” said my father, “and we cannot communicate. Now then, get inside, and we will barricade the place as well as we can, in case of their coming back. Can you walk now, George?”
“Yes, father, the giddiness has gone off now,” I said; and I sprang up, but reeled and nearly fell again.