thing depended on her own energies. It was but the work of an instant therefore for her to seize a musket which depended on rough hooks from the ceiling, as was usual in every frontier house at that period, and presenting it at the head of the savage to await his entrance. It was a noble sight to gaze on the beautiful girl then, and notice how the peril of her situation had changed her demeanor in a few moments from that of gay and reckless merriment into the high resolve of a Spartan woman. Her cheek was flushed with excitement, her dark eyes beamed with a lustre like that of stars flashing through a stormy cloud, and her proud form appeared dilated to the most gigantic proportions. Yet even then —even at the breathless crisis of her fate, her woman's nature for a second prevailed over her stern resolve, she hesitated, her hands faltered, and the muzzle of her piece dropped; but, as the wily savage, eager to avail himself of her momentary vacillation, leaped up on the sill with the intention of bounding into the room with the next spring, the consciousness of her peril and that of Helen returned on her in its full force, her resolution returned, her hand no longer faltered, and raising the musket to a level with the advancing head of the savage, she pulled the trigger for the first time in her life, and fired. The Indian gave a sharp yell, quivered in every limb, and springing half way up fell dead across the sill, effectually blocking up the casement. But this providential circumstance was for the moment overlooked in the strange feeling, which, now that she had done the deed, came over the heart of the heroic girl. Perhaps also her sudden paleness was attributable in a measure to the wild yell that, on the fall of their leader, burst from the voices of a dozen savages outside the house.
"Oh! what have you done?" gasped Helen, pale as a corpse, looking fearfully at Jane when that frightful yell had ceased.
"God help me," responded Jane, "I scarcely know. But if I had not acted as I did, he would have been in the room in another instant, and a merciless death would have been our lot ere this. We are now safe for a while —at least until they force the door. Unless succor arrives before they resort to that," continued the maiden, her whole nature appearing suddenly altered by the daring deed she had done, “we shall die under their tomahawks, for we can hope for no mercy now. Hold this powder-horn," she continued, for she had already seized the ammunition hanging from the ceiling with the musket, and commenced re-loading, "but no! your hand trembles too much—poor girl!—I must do it myself. There it is finished—cheer up, sweet coz: help may even now be at hand—Harry cannot delay much longer."
"Oh! pray heaven that he may not come now," gasped Helen, "it would be certain death. Do you think he will come at this late hour Jane? Oh! say he will not. Or perhaps he is already in their hands," and the usually mild eyes of the speaker gleamed with a strange lustre as she looked imploringly into the face of Jane.
"No, no! it is impossible," quickly responded her companion-caring only to soothe her cousin "no, he is detained by something that has kept him at the fort, and he is too skilful a forester to approach even his own home, without becoming aware of the vicinity of enemies."
"Oh! thank you, thank you for those words," murmured Helen, "if I am to die let it be, but let not Harry fall, oh! heavenly father, and that too, in a vain attempt to rescue me," and the angelic being as she spoke raised her eyes to heaven. They were wet with tears.
Jane turned away; but though her heart was full, no tear stood in her large dark eye. In her mind a sense of their peril, and a consciousness that their only hope of life depended on her own unassisted energies, had consumed every other feeling—and though different emotions might meanwhile agitate her bosom, they could do so only in a secondary degree, to that one over-ruling sensation which now reigned paramount in her bosom. Her whole energies were devoted to the preservation, if possible, of their lives. While therefore gently pressing the trembling maiden to her bosom, Jane remained alive to the slightest sound which might betray a renewed attack on the part of their foes. For a few moments, however, it seemed as if the savages had withdrawn, during which, Jane strove to reassure the sensitive being in her arms, using a thousand reasons, but which were, alas! insufficient to her own mind, why help must soon arrive, and why no possible injury could fall on her brother. It was a touching scene to behold those two young beings during that pause in the attack-the one slight and timorous as the startled fawn, the other comparatively bold as the antlered stag—the one burying her face in her companion's bosom, and seeming in every thing to be the defenceless being whom we love to picture as seeking our protection, the other bolder and more composed, soothingly caressing the trembler on her bosom, whispering words of comfort and hope into the ear of her friend, and appearing in every thing to fulfil the duties of our sterner and more courageous sex. Or to alter the figure, the one seemed like a weeping seraph seeking protection on the breast of some higher yet not less beautiful intelligence, while the other was that loftier spirit-some Gabriel perhaps from beneath the great white throne-breathing words of consolation into the afflicted soul of the mourner.
But it was not long that the two maidens were allowed thus to indulge their feelings unrestrained,—for soon the silence was broken by another whoop on the part of the savages, and it soon became evident that the Indians, infuriated by the death of their companion, had determined to carry the house at all hazards. Their first will not. Or perhaps he is already in their hands," and the point of attack was the door, against which the blows of
