"You are unjust to me," the hunter answered, sadly-- "I have come to save you." "I will not be saved by you!" "Unhappy woman! if not for your own sake, surrender on behalf of your children. See, the tower is on fire!" The lady raised her eyes, uttered a thrilling shriek, and rushed wildly into the interior of the building. The other females, trusting in the hunter's words, attempted no resistance, but laid down their arms. Tranquil entrusted the guard of these poor women to Quoniam, with whom he left a few warriors, and then hurried off to put a stop to the carnage which was going on in all parts of the colony. Quoniam entered the tower when he found Mrs. Watt half stifled and holding her children pressed to her heart with extraordinary strength. The worthy Negro threw the young lady across his shoulder, carried her out, and collecting all the females and children, led them to the banks of the Missouri to get them out of range of the fire, and await the end of the fight, without exposing the prisoners to the fury of the victors. It was now no longer a combat but a butchery, rendered more atrocious still by the barbarous refinements of the Indians, who attacked their unhappy enemies with indescribable fury. The Captain, Bothrel, Bob, and some twenty Americans, the only colonists still alive, were collected in the centre of the esplanade defending themselves with the energy of despair against a cloud of Indians, and resolved to die sooner than fall into the hands of their ferocious enemies. Tranquil, however, succeeded, by repeated entreaties and braving a thousand perils, in inducing them to lay down their arms and thus put an end to the carnage. All at once cries, groans, and entreaties were heard from the riverside. The hunter dashed off; agitated by a gloomy presentiment. Black-deer and his warriors followed him. When they reached the spot where Quoniam had collected the women, a fearful sight presented itself to them. Mrs. Watt and three other females lay motionless on the ground in a pool of blood, Quoniam lay extended in front of them with two wounds, one on his head, the other in his chest. It was impossible to obtain any information from the other females as to what had occurred, for they were half mad with terror. The Captain's children had disappeared. End of Prologue. CHAPTER XI. THE VENTA DEL POTRERO. Using now our privilege as romancer, we will transfer the scene of our narrative to Texas, and resume our story about sixteen years after the events recorded in the prologue.