At midday the attack temporarily ceased.  The Indians withdrew to the base of Wheeling Hill, and the uproar of yells and musketry was replaced by a short season of quiet.  It was a fortunate reprieve for the whites.  Their powder was almost exhausted.  Had the assault continued for an hour longer their rifles must have ceased to reply.

What was to be done?  The Indians had withdrawn only for rest and food.  They would soon be at their threatening work again.  Answer to them could not long be continued.  When the fire from the fort ceased all would be over.  The exultant savages would swarm over the undefended walls, and torture and outrage be the lot of all who were not fortunate enough to die in the assault.

Ebenezer Zane looked wistfully at his house, sixty yards away.

“There is a keg of powder within those walls,” he said.  “If we only had it here it might mean the difference between safety and death.”

“A keg of powder!” cried Colonel Sheppard.  “We must have it, whatever the danger!” He looked out.  The Indians were within easy gunshot.  Whoever went for the powder ran the most imminent risk of death.  The appearance of a man outside the gates would be the signal for a fierce fusillade.  “But we must have it,” he repeated.  “And we can spare but one man for the task.  Who shall it be?  I cannot order any one to such a duty.  What man is ready to volunteer?”

Every man, apparently; they all thronged forward, each eager for the perilous effort.  They struggled, indeed, so long for the honor that there was danger of the Indians returning to the assault before the powder was obtained.

At this interval a woman stepped forward.  It was Elizabeth Zane.  The fire of a noble purpose shone on her earnest face.

“But one man can be spared to go, you say, Colonel Sheppard,” she remarked.  “In my opinion no man can be spared to go.  Let me go for the powder.  My life is of much less importance to the garrison than that of a man.”

Colonel Sheppard looked at her with eyes of admiration, and then peremptorily refused her request.  This was work for men, he said, not for women.  She should not sacrifice herself.

It was every one’s duty to do their share, she replied.  All were alike in danger.  The walls were not half manned.  If she fell, the gap would be small; if a man fell, it would be large.

So earnest were her solicitations, and so potent her arguments, that Colonel Sheppard finally yielded a reluctant consent.  It was given none too soon.  There was little time to spare.  The gate was opened and the brave woman walked fearlessly out.

She had not gone a step beyond the shelter of the fort before the Indians perceived her.  Yet the suddenness of her appearance seemed to paralyze them.  They stood and watched her movements, as she walked swiftly but steadily over the space leading to her brothers’ house, but not a gun was lifted nor a voice was raised.  So far the expedient of sending a woman had proved unexpectedly successful.  The savages gazed at her in blank amazement, wondering at her purpose.