Joshua Peniman, not so young or active as his sons, did not dare to ride bareback. With frantic haste he hitched his team to the wagon, and shouting to Sam to jump in, and lead the black team, leaped in and lashed the horses into a run.
None of them had any weapons. They had seen no Indians since coming to the Blue River country, and their fear of them had gradually subsided as their minds became filled with other things. Now as Joshua Peniman drove madly across the prairies he cursed his short-sightedness and stupidity.
Nearer and nearer the squat black house on the banks of the river came the naked, yelping savages.
"My God—will Hannah see them in time—will she get herself and the children into the house before they reach her!" The agonized thought hammered itself over and over in his brain.
As Joe and Lige dashed on, silent before the stark horror of the moment, they could see the children playing down by the river. It was evident that they knew nothing of their danger. Then as the boys dashed on, lashing their horses cruelly, they saw their mother come to the door.
For a moment she stood, and they could feel in their own hearts that terror that came over her. Then they saw her make a dash for the river. Even above the thudding of the horses' hoofs they could hear her wild, agonized calls. The Indians heard it, too, and answered with derisive whoops and yells.
With dry lips and a frantic unuttered prayer Joe ground his heels into Kit's sides.
Would they get there in time?
Joshua Peniman, standing up in the wagon and leaning far over the dashboard, lashed his horses and groaned aloud.
There seemed to be some forty or fifty of the savages, and as they wheeled and the sun shone full on their naked bodies Lige gave a loud cry.