defense, the fate of the ladder prevented that due attention to the subject, at once, which had been imperatively called for; and the subsequent excitement following the discovery of the immediate proximity of the Indians had turned the consideration of the defenders to the opposite end of the building, from whence the partial attack of the enemy, as described, had come. It is true that the workmen were yet busy with the ladder,[1] but the assault had suspended their operations, in the impatient curiosity which such an event would necessarily induce, even in the bosom of fear.
The wife of Grayson [Granger], fully conscious of the danger, was alone sleepless in that apartment. The rest of the women, scarcely apprehensive of attack at all and perfectly ignorant of the present condition of affairs, with all that heedlessness which marks the unreflecting character, had sunk to the repose (without an effort at watchfulness) which previous fatigues had, perhaps, made absolutely unavoidable. She, alone, sat thoughtful and silent—musing over present prospects—perhaps of the past—but still unforgetful of the difficulties and the dangers before her. With a calm temper she awaited the relief which, with the repair of the ladder, she looked for from below.
In the meantime, hearing something of the alarm, together with the distant war whoop, she had looked around her for some means of defense, in the event of any attempt being made upon the window before the aid promised could reach her. But a solitary weapon met her eye, in a long heavy hatchet, a clumsy instrument, rather more like the cleaver of a butcher than the light and slender tomahawk so familiar to the Indians. Having secured this, with the composure of that courage which had been in great part taught her by the necessities
- ↑ The ladder leading up from the floor below to the room where the women were had become broken and another was being constructed. [Editor's note.]
