“Language was inadequate to express my gratitude, or the admiration with which I regarded this noble act of humanity. I begged and insisted that my benefactress should remain, at least long enough for rest, but she refused. I then told her my own history, prepared a hasty meal, and asked her to favor me with a song. In the sweetest voice I think I ever heard, she sung the Hunters’ Chorus in ‘Der Freyschutz’; then, springing to the saddle, she waved me a farewell, and in a few moments disappeared. So sudden had been her appearance and disappearance, so startling the warning she gave me, so wonderful her long and dreary ride, that it all seemed like a dream. I had never made a habit of prayer, but, influenced by the emotion of the moment, I dropped on my knees, and thanked God, in a fervent prayer, for this special manifestation of His Providence.
“The next day I made every needful preparation for defence, and calmly awaited the arrival of the ruffians. In the afternoon of the day my informant mentioned I saw them approaching, one, whom I recognized as Helm, half a mile or more in advance of the other two. I stood in the gate of my stockade, with my revolver in my belt, and as he approached me greeted him kindly, bade him enter, and closed and bolted the door behind him. As this had always been my custom, he did not notice it. I saw at once, by his subdued, churlish manner, and his crabbed style of address, that he was bent upon mischief. Hardly waiting for an exchange of common civilities, he said,
“‘Lend me your pistols. I am going on a perilous expedition.’
“‘I cannot spare them,’ I replied.
“‘But you must spare them. I want them.’
“‘I tell you, I cannot let you have them.’
“Flying into a passion, he with bitter oaths rejoined,
“‘I’ll make you give ’em to me, or I’ll kill you,’ at the same time grasping his revolver.
“Before he could pull it from its scabbard, I had mine levelled with deadly aim at his head, and my finger on the trigger.
“‘Make a single motion,’ said I emphatically, ‘and I will shoot you.’