THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 813 



was a desperate one I seized the old man in my arms, and 

 forgetting my lameness, rushed with him towards the door 

 of the house. 



I reached it and found it was closed for the moment. He 

 still held on to his rifle, and as the door opened to admit us, 

 he turned himself in my arms, and coolly presenting it, said 

 in a low voice, " Stop !" 



The word was not fully spoken, when the ring of several 

 rifles from the wood was replied to by that of his own. He 

 dropped heavily from my arms on his own door-sill. The 

 Indians were upon us ! I had stuck my pistols into my belt, 

 and now I wheeled to face them, standing over the body. The 

 clear ring of a rifle above my shoulder, and the staggering 

 fall of one of the foremost warriors showed me that "Molly" 

 was on hand. The Indians recoiled for a moment, for it was 

 the chief of the party that fell beneath the shot and then 

 seeing only myself astride of the body they rushed on me 

 with a yell as vengeful as it was infernal. 



I saw the fierce eyes of "Molly" blazing behind me as she 

 screamed 



"Give it to the Cherokee dogs, my boy!" while she plied 

 her ram-rod desperately reloading for another shot. 



I stood at bay with that strange flushed feeling which 

 always attends the consummation of despair. It was a wild and 

 furious struggle for a moment. The firing of my pistols was 

 almost instantly followed by the report of her rifle again 

 this caused the Indians to hesitate slightly, which gave us time 

 to drag in the body of the dead or wounded man we did not 

 yet know which. They saw us about to escape, and made a 

 rush to prevent the closing of the door. Several of them were 

 throwing themselves against it together, and had nearly suc- 

 ceeded in the effort but the frantic woman seemed endued 

 with nearly supernatural strength, and with a single stroke, 

 felled the foremost with the butt of her rifle while I held 



