He half lifted, half dragged his brother into one of the empty barns, where he laid him down upon some straw.  He rolled up his own coat for a pillow, and after hastily finishing the filling in of the grave, he went back into the forest for his game bag, and having kindled a fire, cooked some of the meat, and forced his brother to eat and drink.  It was growing dark by that time, and the blackness of the forest seemed to be swallowing them up.

A faint red glow still came from the direction of the burning homestead, where the fire still smouldered amid the smoking ruins.  Humphrey closed the door of the barn, to shut out the sight and also the chill freshness of the autumn night.

He lay down upon the straw beside his brother, worn out in body and mind.  But there could be no thought of sleep for either man that night; the horror was too pressing and ever present, and anguish lay like a physical load upon their hearts.

The silence was full of horror for both; in self defence Humphrey began to speak.

“When was it, Charles?  I was in the forest all day, and I saw and heard nothing.  The silence was never broken save by the accustomed sounds of the wild creatures of the wood.  No war party came my way.  When was it?”

“At the noontide meal.  We had all gathered within doors.  There was none to give warning of danger.  Suddenly and silently as ghosts they must have filed from out the forest.  We were already surrounded and helpless before the first wild war whoop broke upon our ears!”

Charles put up his hands as though to shut out that awful yell, the echoes of which rang so long in the ears of those who had heard it.  Humphrey shivered, and his hands clinched themselves nervously together.

“Why was I not here to fight and to die?”

“Better to live—­and to avenge their blood!” answered Charles, with a gleam lighting his sunken eyes.  He was silent awhile, and then went on with his narrative.

“It was not a fight; it was only a slaughter!  The children rushed screaming from the house, escaping the first rush of the painted savages when they burst in upon us.  But there were others outside, who hacked and slashed them as they passed.  I had only my hunting knife in my belt.  I stood before Ellen, and I fought like ten demons!  God is witness that I did all that one man could.  But what avail against scores of such foes?  Three corpses were heaped at my threshold.  I saw them carrying away many others dead or wounded, Our father fought too; and Ellen backed into the corner where the gun stood, and with her own hands she shot down two of the savages.

“Would to heaven she had shot at the white one, who was tenfold more of a fiend!  But he shall not escape—­he shall not escape!  I shall know his face when I see it next.  And I will not go down to the grave till he and I have stood face to face once more, when I am not bound and helpless, but a free man with weapons in my hand.  That day will come; I read it in the book of fate.  The Lord God, unto whom vengeance belongeth, He will cause it to come to pass!”