“And the redskins?” I asked.
She drew the child away, lest he hurt me, and shuddered.
“I reckon 'twas only a war-party,” she answered. “The rest is at McAfee's. And if they beat 'em off—” she stopped abruptly.
“We shall be saved,” I said.
I shall never forget that day. Polly Ann left my side only to feed the children and to keep watch out of the loopholes, and I lay on my back, listening and listening to the shots. At last these became scattered. Then, though we strained our ears, we heard them no more. Was the fort taken? The sun slid across the heavens and shot narrow blades of light, now through one loophole and now through another, until a ray slanted from the western wall and rested upon the red-and-black paint of two dead bodies in the corner. I stared with horror.
“I was afeard to open the door and throw 'em out,” said Polly Ann, apologetically.
Still I stared. One of them had a great cleft across his face.
“But I thought I hit him in the shoulder,” I exclaimed.
Polly Ann thrust her hand, gently, across my eyes. “Davy, ye mustn't talk,” she said; “that's a dear.”
Drowsiness seized me. But I resisted.