THE TEXAN HUNTRESS. 823 
* And what is that?” 
“Why, you perceive that the woman is out of her head,— 
has a brain fever. She suffers from her wound, her anxiety 
for her husband, and the additional excitement of the late 
conflict, that is all!” 
“What shall we do?” he asked, in dismay, as it became 
every moment more difficult to keep her down. 
“T must call the negros back,—for I can be of little assist- 
ance to you!” 
“The stupid fools !—you can’t get them to come back !” 
“Yes I can!” and seizing his rifle, I hobbled to the door 
and looked out. ‘Tom was the only one in sight. I shouted 
to him, ordering his return. The fellow shook his head, and 
looked furtively askance towards me. I instantly raised the 
rifle, and, as I brought it to bear upon him, peremptorily 
ordered his return, under penalty of a ball through hiswoolly 
head. The habit of obedience conquered his fears in a mea- 
sure, and he came back with a slow, unwilling step. 
‘““Why, you cowardly rascal!” I said, in an angry and con- 
temptuous tone, which I thought might sting and rouse his 
pride,—for I knew he was really a brave fellow, but super. 
stitious, as were all his class—“I thought you had some 
manhood in you,—a great big lubber like you to run away 
from a sick and wounded woman! I am ashamed of you, Tom. 
Come in here, your master needs you to help him hold her !” 
“Dat !—dat !—dat !—no woman, Massa!” He stammered 
hesitatingly, as he looked up humbly for a moment. “Dat 
witch,—she make poor mgger die like rotten sheep if he 
touch um !”” 
“T tell you, you fool, the woman is no witch; she is a 
good woman, and has a bad fever, and does not know what 
she is doing !” 
“But, Massa, what all dat conjure-wheels do dar if she am 
no witch ?”’ he persisted, in a more cheerful vote but stil: 
hanging back. 
