SevenThe Indian camp
Harris squealed, averting his head when the young boy's head erupted in a mangled blast of shredded brain and bone. His wrecked body collapsed onto the ground. But his arrow, released in the moment the bullet from the unseen marksman hit home, thudded into Ned's shoulder, pitching him backwards. Writhing in the dirt, he kicked out his legs as the pain burned through his limb.
“Oh, God Almighty!” screamed Ned, rolling over, gripping the shaft of the arrow. “God Almighty, I'm a dead man for sure.”
Amidst the mayhem of the camp, with some people running, others crouching behind whatever shelter available, and all wailing, a woman stumbled towards the remains of the dead child. She fell to her knees, hands and head aloft, beseeching invisible spirits to make amends. But
