“Because I won’t take life if I can help it,” replied Mr Tucker as he bound the Indian’s wrists.
At that moment there arose a wild war-whoop from another part of the Fort, and a volume of smoke and flame burst from the back of the chief dwelling-house which stood in the centre of the square. The Blackfeet had gained an entrance at another point, and set fire to the western wing of the building unperceived.
With a shout of rage the blacksmith and his men rushed to the scene of disaster.
“There’s father!” said Loo, with a cry of joy.
“Where?” exclaimed Mr Tucker, looking round with a bewildered air.
“Help to open the gate,” cried Loo.
The pastor did so at once, and, as he heaved at the bar which held it, he could hear the clatter of hoofs and the shouts of men outside.
The heavy gate swung back just as the cavalcade came up, and they dashed in at full gallop.
“Open the back gate wide, Loo, and leave this one open, too,” shouted MacFearsome, as he flew past like an enraged thunderbolt.
Our bride possessed that most valuable quality, a tendency to prompt, unquestioning obedience. Running lightly to the other side of the Fort she undid the fastenings and forced the back gate wide open. Meanwhile her father and our bridegroom, with his friend Jacob and the six men, charged down on the savages with wild yells of fury. The sight of them was sufficient! The Blackfeet turned and fled through the open gates in consternation. As they coursed towards the woods like hares the blacksmith managed to turn on them a small ship’s-cannon loaded with buckshot, which awoke the echoes of the wilderness with a deafening roar. The horsemen also pursued and scattered them right and left. Then the gates were reclosed, while the bright flame of the burning buildings lit up the scene as at noon-day.