As fast as the red warriors fell in the attack, others took their places, and from out the darkness legions seemed to rise to avenge the deaths of their fallen comrades.
The white women loaded the rifles, stood by their brothers and husbands assisting them in the fearful strife.
But valour availed not; the settlers were doomed.
Never had Elias Rody been seen to greater advantage.
He seemed ubiquitous, cheering and inspiring the men around him.
Many who had condemned him till then gave him credit for his bravery.
He seemed to bear a charmed life, and was seen where-ever bullets whistled, unharmed and undaunted!
All his hopes on earth were centred in successfully maintaining himself; and that strong physical courage which he undoubtedly possessed, stimulated by his frightful responsibility, made him for the moment heroic.
His daughter, the gentle Alice, showed herself equally brave.
She took under her care the wounded men—she who, at any other time, would have fainted at the sight of blood—bound up the ghastly wounds, and stood on that dreadful night by more than one death-bed, calm and courageous, upheld by the sustaining idea.