Part 7 (1/2)
”Will they come before father returns?” asked Mary.
”Do you think they will attack us at all?” interrogated Glenn.
”There can be no doubt of it,” replied Boone; ”but if we do our duty, I think we shall be able to resist them. We must be ready to defend ourselves, at all events--and in the mean time we must watch through the loopholes on every side to prevent a surprise.” This was hardly spoken before an arrow whizzed over their heads, and, striking against the stone wall of the house, fell at the feet of Joe.
”Ugh! look at that!” cried he, leaping some ten feet away.
”Go in, child--and the rest to their posts!” remarked Boone, first to Mary, and then addressing the men.
”Yes--_do_ go in, Miss!” cried Joe, forcing Mary into the house, where he also seemed determined to remain himself.
”Come out here!” cried Sneak, going to the door.
”Wait till I screw a flint in my musket,” said Joe.
”You can see better out here,” replied Sneak.
”But I haven't found the flint yet,” answered Joe.
”He's a coward!” said Sneak, turning away and going to his post, whence he could watch the valley below.
Boone's station was on the opposite side, in the direction of the supposed encampment of the Indians. But not a savage could now be seen, and the arrow that fell among them had evidently been discharged from a great distance above.
”Shall we fire if any of them come within the range of our guns?”
inquired Glenn, from his position on the east, which overlooked the cliff.
”Certainly,” replied Boone; ”the arrow was their declaration of war, and if they are again seen, it will be in a hostile att.i.tude. Watch close, Sneak!” he cried, as another shaft flew over the palisade from the valley below, and penetrated the wood but a few feet above his head.
”Come out to your post, Joe!” cried Glenn, impatiently.
”I will presently--as soon as I get my gun fixed,” replied Joe.
”If you do not come forth instantly, I'll thrust you out of the inclosure!” continued Glenn, somewhat fiercely.
”Here I am,” said Joe, coming out, and making an effort to a.s.sume a bold bearing: ”I'm ready now--I only wanted to fix my gun--who's afraid?” saying which, he strode in a stooping posture to the loophole on the west of the inclosure.
While the whole male force of the garrison was required to act as sentinels, Mary, whose trepidation had been succeeded by deliberate resolution, was busily employed moulding bullets.
An hour pa.s.sed, and no Indians had yet been seen, although an occasional arrow a.s.sured the besieged party that the enemy still remained in the immediate vicinity. They cleared away the snow at their posts, and placing dry straw to stand upon, prepared to continue the watch throughout the day and night. Nor were they to suffer for food; for Mary, though she had not been requested so to do, ere long, to their joyful surprise, came forth with a dinner handsomely provided, which she placed before them with a smile of satisfaction playing on her lips, and entirely unmindful of the shafts that continued to fly overhead, which either pierced the wood and remained stationary, or fell expended and harmless at her feet.
Affairs thus remained till night, when the arrows ceased to fly. There was not a cloud in the heavens, and the moon rose up in purest brightness. A breathless stillness pervaded the air, and no sound for a great length of time could be heard but the hooting of owls on the opposite side of the river, and the howling of wolves in the flats about a mile above.
”I'm not a bit cold--are you?” said Joe, addressing Sneak.
”Dad! keep an eye out!” replied Sneak, in a low tone.
”There's nothing out this way but a bush. But I declare it seems to be bigger and nigher than it was in the daytime,” said Joe.
”Don't speak so loud,” remarked Boone, crossing to where Joe stood, and looking through at the bush.