Historical fiction; King Philip's War, 1675-1676 -- Fiction; War stories
"In the name of him who is with us in every danger!" exclaimed Ruth,
advancing to two figures that were so busily engaged in their own
concerns, as not to heed her approach, "tell me how goes the struggle?
Where are my husband and the boy?--or has it pleased Providence that any
of our people should be stricken?"
"It hath pleased the Devil," returned Eben Dudley, somewhat irreverently
for one of that chastened school, "to send an Indian arrow through jerkin
and skin, into this arm of mine! Softly, Faith; dost think, girl, that
the covering of man is like the coat of a sheep, from which the fleece
may be plucked at will! I am no moulting fowl, nor is this arrow a
feather of my wing. The Lord forgive the rogue for the ill turn he hath
done my flesh, say I, and amen like a Christian! he will have occasion
too for the mercy, seeing he hath nothing further to hope for in this
world. Now, Faith, I acknowledge the debt of thy kindness, and let there
be no more cutting speech between us. Thy tongue often pricketh more
sorely than the Indian's arrow."
"Whose fault is it that old acquaintance hath sometimes been overlooked,
in new conversations? Thou knowest that, wooed by proper speech, no maiden
in the Colony is wont to render gentler answer. Dost feel uneasiness in
thine arm, Dudley?"
"'Tis not tickling with a straw, to drive a flint-headed arrow to the
bone! I forgive thee the matter of too much discourse with the trooper,
and all the side-cuts of thy over-ambling tongue, on conditions that----"
"Out upon thee, brawler! wouldst be prating here the night long on
pretence of a broken skin, and the savage at our gates? A fine character
will the Madam render of thy deeds, when the other youths have beaten back
the Indian, and thou loitering among the buildings!"
The discomfited borderer was about to curse in his heart the versatile
humor of his mistress, when he saw, by a side-glance, that ears which had
no concern in the subject, had liked to have shared in the matter of their
discourse. Seizing the weapon which was leaning against the foundation of
the block, he hurried past the mistress of the family, and, in another
minute, his voice and his musket were again heard ringing in the uproar.
"Does he bring tidings from the palisadoes?" repeated Ruth, too anxious
that the young man should return to his post, to arrest his retreat. "What
saith he of the onset?"
"The savage hath suffered for his boldness, and little harm hath yet come
to our people. Except that yon block of a man hath managed to put arm
before the passage of an arrow, I know not that any of our people have
been harmed."
"Hearken! they retire, Ruth. The yells are less near, and our young men
will prevail! Go thou to thy charge among the piles of the fuel, and see
that no lurker remaineth to do injury. The Lord hath remembered mercy, and
it may yet arrive that this evil shall pass away from before us!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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