"No, ma'am," Pearson said confidently. "The boy's got sense enough to have changed his course after it gets dark, though whether he'll make for shore or go out toward the other side is more than I can say. You see, they'll know that the Injuns are all along this side of the lake; but then, on the other hand, they'll be anxious about us and 'll want to keep close at hand. Besides, the lad knows nothing of the other side; there may be Injuns there, for aught he knows, and it's a skeary thing for a young un to take to the forest, especially with a gal in his charge. There aint no saying what he'll do. And now we've got to look after ourselves; don't let us think about 'em at present. The best thing as we can do for them, as well as for ourselves, is to hold this here place. If they live they'll come back to it sooner or later, and it 'll be better for 'em to find it standing, and you here to welcome 'em, than to get back to a heap of ruins and some dead bodies."
"When will the redskins attack, do you think?" the farmer asked.
"We may expect 'em any time, now," the hunter answered. "The Injuns' time of attack is generally just before dawn, but they know well enough they aint likely to ketch us asleep any time, and, as they know exactly what they have got to do they'll gain nothing by waiting. I wish we had a moon; if we had, we might keep 'em out of the stockade. But there—it's just as well it's dark, after all; for, if the moon was up, the young ones would have no chance of getting away."
The garrison now all took their places at the loop-holes, having first carried the wet fodder to the roof and spread it over the shingles. There was nothing to do now but to wait. The night was so dark that they could not see the outline of the stockade. Presently a little spark shot through the air, followed by a score of others. Mr. Welch had taken his post on the tower, and he saw the arrows whizzing through the air, many of them falling on the roof. The dry grass dipped in resin, which was tied round the arrow-heads, was instantly extinguished as the arrows fell upon the wet corn, and a yell arose from the Indians.
The farmer descended and told the others of the failure of the Indians' first attempt.
"That 'ere dodge is a first-rate un," Pearson said. "We're safe from fire, and that's the only thing we've got to be afeared on. You'll see 'em up here in a few minutes."
Everything was perfectly quiet. Once or twice the watchers thought that they could hear faint sounds, but could not distinguish their direction. After half an hour's anxious waiting a terrible yell was heard from below, and at the doors and windows of the lower rooms came the crashing blows of tomahawks.
The boards had already been removed from the flooring above, and the defenders opened a steady fire into the dark mass that they could faintly make out clustered round the windows and doors. At Pearson's suggestion the bullets had been removed from the guns and heavy charges of buckshot had been substituted for them, and yells of pain and surprise rose as they fired. A few shots were fired up from below, but a second discharge from the spare guns completed the effect from the first volley. The dark mass broke up and, in a few seconds, all was as quiet as before.
Two hours passed, and then slight sounds were heard. "They've got the gate opened, I expect," Pearson said. "Fire occasionally at that; if we don't hit 'em the flashes may show us what they're doing."
It was as he had expected. The first discharge was followed by a cry, and by the momentary light they saw a number of dark figures pouring in through the gate. Seeing that concealment was no longer possible, the Indians opened a heavy fire round the house; then came a crashing sound near the door.
"Just as I thought," Pearson said. "They're going to try to burn us out."
For some time the noise continued, as bundle after bundle of dried wood was thrown down by the door. The garrison were silent; for, as Pearson said, they could see nothing, and a stray bullet might enter at the loop-holes if they placed themselves there, and the flashes of the guns would serve as marks for the Indians.
Presently two or three faint lights were seen approaching.
"Now," Pearson said, "pick 'em off as they come up. You and I'll take the first man, Welch. You fire just to the right of the light, I will fire to the left; he may be carrying the brand in either hand."
They fired together, and the brand was seen to drop to the ground. The same thing happened as the other two sparks of light approached; then it was again quiet. Now a score of little lights flashed through the air.
"They're going to light the pile with their flaming arrows," Pearson said. "War Eagle is a good leader."
Three or four of the arrows fell on the pile of dry wood. A moment later the flames crept up and the smoke of burning wood rolled up into the room above. A yell of triumph burst from the Indians, but this changed into one of wrath as those above emptied the contents of one of the great tubs of water on to the pile of wood below them. The flames were instantly extinguished.
"What will they do next?" Mrs. Welch asked.
"It's like enough," Pearson replied, "that they'll give the job up altogether. They've got plenty of plunder and scalps at the settlements, and their attacking us here in such force looks as if the hull of 'em were on their way back to their villages. If they could have tuk our scalps easy they would have done it; but War Eagle aint likely to risk losing a lot of men when he aint sartin of winning, after all. He has done good work as it is, and has quite enough to boast about when he gets back. If he were to lose a heap of his braves here it would spoil the success of his expedition. No, I think as he will give it up now."
"He will be all the more anxious to catch the children," Mrs. Welch said despondently.
"It can't be denied, ma'am, as he will do his best that way," Pearson answered. "It all depends, though, on the boy. I wish I was with him in that canoe. Howsomever, I can't help thinking as he will sarcumvent 'em somehow."
The night passed without any further attack. By turns half the garrison watched while the other lay down, but there was little sleep taken by any. With the first gleam of daylight Mrs. Welch and her husband were on the lookout.
"There's two canoes out on the lake," Pearson said. "They're paddling quietly; which is which I can't say."
As the light became brighter Pearson pronounced, positively, that there were three men in one canoe and four in the other.
"I think they're all Injuns," he said. "They must have got another canoe somewhere along the lake. Waal, they've not caught the young uns yet."
"The boats are closing up to each other," Mrs. Welch said. "They're going to have a talk, I reckon. Yes, one of 'em's turning and going down the lake, while the other's going up. I'd give a heap to know where the young uns have got to."
The day passed quietly. An occasional shot toward the house showed that the Indians remained in the vicinity and, indeed, dark forms could be seen moving about in the distant parts of the clearing.
"Will it be possible," the farmer asked Pearson, when night again fell, "to go out and see if we can discover any traces of them?"
"Worse than no use," Pearson said positively. "We should just lose our har without doing no good whatever. If the Injuns in these woods—and I reckon altogether there's a good many hundred of 'em—can't find 'em, ye may swear that we can't. That's just what they're hoping, that we'll be fools enough to put ourselves outside the stockade. They'll lie close round all night, and a weasel wouldn't creep through 'em. Ef I thought there was jest a shadow of chance of finding them young uns I'd risk it; but there's no chance—not a bit of it."
A vigilant watch was again kept up all night, but all was still and quiet. The next morning the Indians were still round them.
"Don't ye fret, ma'am!" Pearson said, as he saw how pale and wan Mrs. Welch looked in the morning light. "You may bet your last shilling that they're not caught 'em."
"Why are you so sure?" Mrs. Welch asked. "They may be dead by this time."
"Not they, ma'am! I'm as sartin as they're living and free as I am that I'm standing here. I know these Injuns' ways. Ef they had caught 'em they'd jest have