Zane, grabbing his rifle.

Without wasting more words, and lacing up his hunting shirt as he went he ran out of the room.
The first rays of dawn came streaking in at the window.

The chill gray light brought no cheer with its herald of the birth of another day.

For what might the morning sun disclose?
It might shine on a long line of painted Indians.

The fresh breeze from over the river might bring the long war whoop of the savage.
No wonder Noah and his brother, awakened by the voice of their father, sat up in their little bed and looked about with frightened eyes.