t yet tell how it will
turn with him, but hope for the best."

"But where are the other men?" asked Tom, weeping, for only a few
women and children were in sight.

"They deserted us night before last. Our provisions had run low, and
the savages had retired to make us think they had left, and the men,
half crazed with sleepless nights and scanty food, were deluded by
the idea that they might get safely away, and perhaps bring us aid.
But, poor things, they were not themselves, and they had gone only a
few rods, when they were set upon by the savages, and brutally
slaughtered before our eyes. We used our guns on the Indians as well
as we could, but found it difficult to prevent them from scaling the
building."

"Did _you_ fire upon them?" asked Tom, wonderingly.

"Yes, my son," said she, gently; "and last night, knowing how feeble
our force must be, they were emboldened to attempt to burn the house.
The roof caught in several places, and your father went up and put out
the fire at the risk of his life. It was then that he was shot. He had
been our main defence from the first, for the Indians were more afraid
of his rifle than a dozen of others."

"But how did you get along after father was disabled?"

"We women loaded, watched, and fired by turns. I do not see how we
could have held out an hour longer. Help came just in time."

"But where are all the children," inquired Tom, forebodingly.

Mrs. Jones gave a low moan, as if her heart would break, but, with
wonderful self-command, suppressed all other manifestations of
emotion, and said, lovingly, laying her hand on his shoulder,--

"My son, we are a broken family; we shall never all meet again on
earth. Charlie disappeared at the first attack. I did not see him
killed; and you know what a quick, active boy he is, and he may have
escaped, although the chances were fearfully against him. Sarah was
overtaken by an Indian, and tomahawked while flying home from the
store."

"And Bub?" sobbed Tom.

"That was one of the crudest of the cruelties connected with the
outbreak. There was an Indian who made great professions of
friendship, visiting our cabin almost daily. You saw him, Tom, when
you visited us. We treated him very kindly, and made him many
presents. He seemed to have a particular liking to Bub, and Bub was
fond of him, and would always run to meet him when he saw him coming.
The day of the fatal attack, he made his appearance as usual, and Bub,
with an ex