Annie loved the outdoors. She loved to tramp through the woods surrounding her family's small Ohio farm, and she didn't mind at all that her homespun dress was often covered with burrs or that her braided hair wasn't combed so often as her sisters' long curls.

But one thing indoors did interest Annie. It was the long-barreled Kentucky rifle which had belonged to her father before he died. She often stared at the gun, with its silver star and beautiful curly-maple stock, and longed to be the hunter of the family. Her mother couldn't understand how such a tiny, pretty girl could be interested in firearms. Annie's sisters told her that everyone knew guns were dangerous, and certainly not for girls.

But Annie was determined, and before long she had a chance to try her skill with the rifle—and her skill proved to be surprising. On one occasion, though, she loaded the gun with too much powder and painfully ...

From the dust jacket