"By George!" murmured Penhallow as he rose.
John looked up puzzled, and his uncle, much amused, went to get his boots and riding-dress. "Wait till I get you on a horse, my Lord Chesterfield," he muttered. "He and Leila must have had a row. What about, I wonder." He asked no questions.
With a renewal of contentment and well-pleased, John called for the rector. They went away into the forest to the cabin.
"And so," said Rivers, "this is where the first Penhallow had his Indian fight. I must ask the Squire."
"I know about it," said John. "Leila told me, and"—he paused, "I saw it."
"Oh! did you? Let's hear." They lay down, and the rector lazily smoked.
"Well, go ahead, Jack, I like stories." He had early rechristened him
Jack, and the boy liked it.
"Well, sir, they saw them coming near to dusk and ran. You see, it was a clearing then; the trees have grown here since. That was at dusk. They barred the door and cut loop-holes between the logs. Next morning the Indians came on. She fired first, and she cried out, 'Oh! James, I've killed a man.'"
"She said that?" asked Rivers.
"Yes, and she wouldn't shoot again until her man was wounded, then she was like a raging lioness."
"A lioness!" echoed Rivers.