all else that followed she had more heard than seen from her elevated hiding place. The sounds alone had been terrible: her father being shot and cursed at with English-American vulgarities the Indians had picked up from white menâcursed because he had no hair and therefore no scalp to takeâand then the sounds of her mother and older brother falling victim to belt ax and scalping knife, her older brother fighting hard and screaming at his attackers before he died, her mother dying quietly with a prayer on her lips.
Mary did not know why the raiders had not climbed to the loft to seek her, because they had seen her in the doorway and surely knew she was hidden somewhere. âI wish they had killed me, too,â she said to Titus and Micah. âMy family is dead. I should be dead, too.â
âThatâs no way for you to speak, Mary. God has spared you,â said Titus. âHeâs got something ahead for you, so he has saved you. Something good and happy, not bad and sorrowful like today.â
She cried again, and went to the corpse of her father, which was clad only in trousers and moccasins. âThey took his shirt,â she said. âWhy did they take his shirt? I had decorated it for him. I stitched a red flower into it for his birthday. It was here.â She touched her chest. âHe said it was the finest flower heâd ever seen. Why did they take his shirt?â
âI suppose they thought it was a pretty flower, too,â said Micah. âBut they shouldnât have took it. And they shouldnât have done this to your kin.â
She was crying again now, and Titus wondered whether the child would ever grow past this and be free of the ghosts of this terrible day.
âMary, where is your motherâs body?â Titus asked. âAnd your brotherâs?â
âThey dragged her out when they killed her,â Mary said weakly. âMy brother they killed outside, in the back. I saw them cut off his scalp through a crack in the wall up in the loft.â
âPut those visions out of your mind as best you can, Mary,â Titus said. âYou are alive and now you must do your familyâs living for them, since they can no longer do it themselves. Do you understand me?â
She nodded, staring at her fatherâs dead face.
âMary, Micah and I are good men, friends, men who will help you and get you to a safe place. We canât bring your family back, nor make you able to forget all that happened here, but we can be good to you and give you protection and friendship. But you must be willing to come with us, to go away from here.â
Titus wasnât at all sure the child would be willing to do that. He knew of many cases in which individuals inexplicably clung to the site of calamities and loss. But Mary was differently inclined. She seemed pleased to hear that she could leave this scene of horror.
âIâll go. Iâll go now.â
âTitus,â Micah said, âwhat about the dead ones?â
Titus pondered the matter, then felt Maryâs gaze upon him. He asked, âMary, Iâm going to leave this up to you. Me and Micah can bury your family here, and leave here later on, or we can leave now and send somebody else back to do the burying. But if it would make you sad to think of them left lying here for a time, we can bury them now.â
Her chin shook and eyes welled. She shook her head. âI want to go now,â she said. âThey arenât really here. This ainât them. . . . This is what used to be them, but ainât anymore.â
Titus hugged the little girl. âYou are a wise young woman, Mary. Wiser than many who are a lot older than you. Have you got kin anywhere else, Mary?â
âNo, sir. No family at all now.â
Titus said, âDonât worry, Mary. Weâll take you with us, back to a safer place, and weâll find you a home and a family. I promise you
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