The other two, who might be eleven and thirteen each, had pillowed their heads on their arms, and lay in the dull apathy that comes from the finish of both strength and hope.

The woman's face was pitiful.

She had more to fear than the children, and she knew it.

She was so worn that the skin hung loosely on her face, and her eyes showed despair only.

The sad spectacle was almost more than Paul could stand.
"I don't like to shoot from ambush," he said, "but we could cut down half of those warriors at our firs fire and rush in on the rest." "And those we didn't cut down at our first volley would tomahawk the woman and children in an instant," replied Henry.