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Buchan, John, 1875-1940

"Salute to Adventurers"

She alone carried her head high and forced an
air of cheerfulness. She lit the fire with Donaldson's help, and
broiled some deer's flesh for our breakfast, and whistled gently as she
wrought, bringing into our wild business a breath of the orderly
comfort of home. I had seen her in silk and lace, a queen among the
gallants, but she never looked so fair as on that misty morning, her
hair straying over her brow, her plain kirtle soiled and sodden, but
her eyes bright with her young courage.
During the last hours of that dark vigil my mind had been torn with
cares. If we escaped the perils of the night, I asked myself, what
then? Here were the seven of us, pinned in a hill-fort, with no help
within fifty miles, and one of the seven was a woman! I judged that the
Indian force was large, and there was always the mighty army waiting
farther south in that shelf of the hills. If they sought to take us, it
must be a matter of a day or two at the most till they succeeded. If
they only played with us--which is the cruel Indian way--we might
resist a little, but starvation would beat us down. Where were we to
get food, with the forests full of our subtle enemies? To sit still
would mean to wait upon death, and the waiting would not be long.


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