"Oh, they are coming again! What shall we do?" "No," he insisted, still retaining her hand, confident in his judgment. "Those fellows will not attempt to rush us again to-night. You must keep cool, for we shall need all our wits to get away. An Indian never risks a night assault, unless it is a surprise. He wants to see what he is up against. Those bucks have got all they want of this outfit; they have no reason to suppose any of us were hit. They are as much afraid as we are, but when it gets daylight, and they can see the shape we 're in, then they 'll come yelling." "But they can lie out there in the dark and shoot," she protested. "That shot was aimed at us, was n't it?" "I reckon it was, but it never got here. Don't let that worry you; if an Indian ever hits anything with a gun it 's going to be by pure accident." He stared out of the window. "They 're liable to bang away occasionally, and I suppose it is up to us to make some response just to tell them we 're awake and ready. But they ain't firing expecting to do damage--only to attract attention while they haul off their dead. There 's a red snake yonder now creeping along in the grass--see!" "No," hysterically, "it is just black to me." "You have n't got the plainsman's eyes yet. Watch, now; I 'm going to stir the fellow up." He leaned forward, the stock of the Henry held to his shoulder, and she clutched the window-casing. An instant the muzzle of the rifle wavered slightly, then steadied into position. "Have to guess the distance," he muttered in explanation, and pulled the trigger. There was a lightning flash, a sharp ringing report, a yell in the distance, followed by the sound of scrambling. Hamlin laughed, as he lowered his gun. "Made him hump, anyway," he commented cheerfully. "Now what comes next?" "I--I do not know," she answered, as though the question had been asked her, "do you?" Somehow she was not as frightened as she had been. The calm steady coolness of the man was having its natural effect, was helping to control her own nerves. She felt his strength, his confidence, and was beginning to lean upon him--he seemed to know exactly what he was about. "Well, no, honestly I don't; not yet," he returned, hesitating slightly. "There is no use denying we are in a mighty bad hole. If Moylan had n't got shot we might have held out till help arrived; I 've got about twenty cartridges left; but you and I alone never could do it. I 've got to think it out, I reckon; this has been a blind fight so far; nothing to it but blazing away as fast as I could pull trigger. Now, maybe, I can use my brains a bit." She could not see him, but some instinct led her to put out her hand and touch the rough sleeve of his shirt. It made her sure of his presence, his protection. The man felt the movement, and understood its meaning, his heart throbbing strangely. "You are going to trust me?" "Of--of course; how could you doubt that?"