Mrs. Hardy and Ethel sprang to their feet, too surprised for the
moment to do anything, and then Mrs. Hardy repeated Maud's words,
"Quick, Ethel, your rifle!"
Ethel seized it, and with her mother ran to the door. Then they saw
a sight which brought a scream from both their lips. Mrs. Hardy
fell on her knees and covered her eyes, while Ethel, after a
moment's pause, grasped the rifle, which had nearly fallen from her
hands, and ran forward, though her limbs trembled so that they
could scarcely carry her on.
The sight was indeed a terrible one. At a distance of two hundred
yards Hubert was riding for his life. His hat was off, his gun was
gone, his face was deadly pale. Behind him rode three Indians. The
nearest one was immediately behind him, at a distance of scarce two
horses' length; the other two were close to their leader. All were
evidently gaining upon him.
Maud had thrown the gate open, and stood by the post with the
barrel of her rifle resting on one of the wires. "Steady, Ethel,
steady," she said in a hard, strange voice, as her sister joined
her; "Hubert's life depends upon your aim. Wait till I fire, and
take the man on the right. Aim at his chest."
The sound of Maud's steady voice acted like magic upon her sister;
the mist which had swum before her eyes cleared off; her limbs
ceased to tremble, and her hand grew steady.
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