"I don't know that I ever had such a thrilling or awful moment in my life! I could hear the savages on the porch, and I was afraid they would get to the door before I could shut and bar it. Just as I managed to close it and let the bar fall, the Indians began to pound upon it with their tomahawks. If I had been one second later they would have got inside the house and I should now be where my husband is. They kept pounding on the door until they made a large hole in it. They did not know that I stood close by, waiting for them with an axe, and as fast as one after another--four of them--tried to crawl through, I killed or badly wounded every one that made the attempt. They could not force their way into the cabin," she added simply. "How many Indians did you say there were at the door?" inquired Peleg in astonishment. "Four, but only two of them were killed. At least there are only two left here, and the others may have got away." "I saw two," said Peleg. "How many were there altogether?" "Seven, I think. They kept away from the door after that, but pretty soon I heard them up on the roof. I knew then that they were trying to get into the house by coming down the chimney." "I think I know how you kept them out," said Peleg, smiling slightly. "Yes," replied the woman. "I grabbed the only feather bed we had in our cabin and ripped it open, in desperate haste, feeling just as I did when I was trying to close the door. I knew if I was not quick enough the Shawnees would be in the room. It was fortunate that there were coals on the fireplace, and just as soon as I put the feathers on them a blaze sprang up and such smoke as I never saw began to pour up the chimney. In less than one minute two of the redskins fell into the fireplace, and with the same axe with which I had defended the door I quickly put an end to both varmints." "That made six of the seven, then," suggested Peleg. "Yes. But the seventh wasn't ready to leave yet. He ran around to the door and tried to crawl through while I was busy at the chimney. It was fortunate that I chanced to see him. He got a gash in the cheek, and you ought to have heard him yell when he ran away from the door. Talk to me about the Indians never making any fuss! This man was yelling so that you might have heard him at the fort. He called me the 'Long Knife Squaw,' but I didn't care so long as he cleared out for good and all! And I don't believe any of them will come again very soon." "What are you going to do now?" inquired Peleg. "I haven't any plans." "You must come with me to the fort." "But I must not leave my clearing," said the heroic woman. "Now that my husband is dead, I shall have everything to do." "Come with me, and I will find some one to do what ought to be done here." Yielding to the persuasion of the young scout, Mrs. Merrill accompanied him to the fort, where at once some of the women offered her the solace of their sympathy.