But the people themselves knew the peril, and did their best to prepare for it. But who should know more about the Indians and Tories than Omas, the great Delaware warrior?

When, therefore, he said these words to Mrs. Ripley, that woman's heart beat faster. She heard the laughter and prattle of the children in the house, and she thought of that bright boy, playing with his young friends not far away.

"Where can we go?" she asked, in the same guarded voice.

"With Omas," was the prompt reply; "hide in wigwam of Omas. n.o.body hurt palefaced friend of Omas."

It was a trying situation. The brave woman, who had pa.s.sed through many dangers with her husband, knew what a visit from the Tories and Indians meant; but she shrank from leaving Wyoming, and all her friends and neighbors.

"When will they come?" she asked; "will it be in a few weeks or in a few days?"

"Getting ready now; Brandt with Iroquois--Butler with Tory--soon be here."

"But do you mean that we shall all go with you tonight?"

The Delaware was silent for a few seconds. His active brain was busy, reviewing the situation.

"No," he finally said; "stay here till Omas come back; then go with him--all go--den no one be hurt."

"Very well; we will wait till you come to us again. We will take good care of Linna."

And without another word the Delaware turned once more, strode to the forest, which was then in fullest leaf, and vanished among the trees.

Mrs. Ripley walked slowly back to the door. On the threshold she halted, and looked around again for her absent boy. It was growing dark, and she began to feel a vague alarm for him.

A whistle fell on her ear. It was the sweetest music she had ever heard, for it came from the lips of her boy.

He was in sight, coming along the well worn path that led in front of the other dwellings and to her own door. When he saw her, he waved his hand in salutation, but could not afford to break in on the vigorous melody which kept his lips puckered.

She saw he was carrying something on his shoulder. A second glance showed that it was one of the heavy rifles used by the pioneers a hundred years ago. The sight--taken with what Omas had just said--filled her heart with forebodings.

She waited until the lad came up. He kissed her affectionately, and then in the offhand manner of a big boy, let the b.u.t.t of the gun drop on the ground, leaned the top away from him, and glancing from it to his mother, asked--"What do you think of it?"

"It seems to be a good gun. Whose is it?"

"Mine," was the proud response. "Colonel Butler ordered that it be given to me, and I'm to use it, too, mother."

"For what purpose?"

"The other Colonel Butler--you know he is a cousin to ours--has got a whole lot of Tories" (who, you know, were Americans fighting against their countrymen) "and Indians, and they're coming down to wipe out Wyoming; but I guess they will find it a harder job than they think."

And to show his contempt for the danger, the muscular lad lifted his weighty weapon to a level, and pretended to sight it at a tree.

"I wish that was a Tory or one of those Six Nation Indians--wouldn't I drop him!"

The mother could not share the buoyancy of her son. She stepped outside, so as to be beyond the hearing of the little ones.

"Omas has been here; that is his little girl that you hear laughing with Alice. He has told me the same as you--the Tories and Indians are coming, and he wants us to flee with him."

"What does he mean by that?" asked the half indignant boy.

"He says they will put us all to death, and if we do not go with him, we will be killed too."

The handsome face of Benjamin Ripley took on an expression of scorn, and as he straightened up, he seemed to become several inches taller.

"He forgets that I am with you! Omas is very kind; but he and his Tory friends had better look out for themselves. Why, with the men at the fort, Colonel Butler will have several hundred."

"But they are mostly old men and boys."

"Well," said the high spirited lad, with a twinkle of his fine hazel eyes, "add up a lot of old men and boys, and the average is the same number of middle aged men, isn't it? Don't you worry, mother--things are all right. If Omas comes back, give him our thanks, and tell him we are not going to sneak off when we are needed at home."

It was hard to resist the contagion of Ben's hopefulness. The mother not only loved but respected him as much as she could have done had he been several years older. He had been her mainstay for the two years past, during which the father was absent with the patriot army; and she came to lean upon him more and more, though her heart sank when Ben began to talk of following his father into the ranks, to help in the struggle for independence.

She found herself looking upon the situation as Ben did. If so great danger threatened Wyoming, it would be cowardly for them to leave their friends to their fate. It was clear all could not find safety by going, and she would feel she was doing wrong if she gave no heed to the others.

Ben was tall and strong for his years, and the fact that he had taken the gun from Colonel Butler to be used in taking care of the settlement bound the youth in honor to do so.

"It shall be as you say," said the mother; "I cannot be as hopeful as you, but it is our duty to stay. We will not talk about it before the children."

"I want to see how a little Indian girl looks," muttered Ben with a laugh, following his mother into the house.

Alice caught sight of him, and was in his arms the next instant, while Linna rose to her feet, and stood with her forefinger between her teeth, shyly studying the newcomer.

"h.e.l.loa, Linna! how are you?" he called, setting down his young sister and catching up the little Indian. Not only that, but he gave her a resounding smack on her dusky cheek.

"I always like pretty little girls, and I'm going to be your beau: what do you say? Is it a bargain?"

It is not to be supposed that the Delaware miss caught the whole meaning of this momentous question. She was a little overwhelmed by the rush of the big boy's manner, and nodded her head about a dozen times.

"There, Alice; do you understand that?" he asked, making the room ring with his merry laughter; "I'm to be Linna's beau. How do you like it?"

"I'm glad for you, but I--guess--I oughter be sorry for Linna."

CHAPTER THREE: JULY THIRD, 1778

While Ben Ripley was frolicking with little Alice and her Indian friend Linna, the mother prepared the evening meal.

The candles were lighted, and they took their places at the table.

All this was new and strange to Linna. In her own home, she was accustomed to sit on the ground, and use only her fingers for knife and fork when taking food; but she was observant and quick, and knowing how it had been with her, her friends soon did away with her embarra.s.sment.

The mother cut her meat into small pieces, spread b.u.t.ter--which the visitor looked at askance--on the brown bread, and she had but to do as the rest, and all went well.

A few minutes after supper both girls became drowsy, and Mrs. Ripley, candle in hand, conducted them upstairs to the small room set apart for their use.

This was another novel experience for the visitor. She insisted at first upon lying on the hard floor, for never in her life had she touched a bed; but after awhile, she became willing to share the couch with her playmate.

Alice knelt down by the side of the little trundle bed and said her prayers, as she always did; but Linna could not understand what it meant. She wonderingly watched her until she was through, and then with some misgiving, clambered among the clothes, and the mother tucked her up, though the night was so warm they needed little covering.