Part 10 (1/2)
”You can't tempt me to shoot till I see something to fire at,” he said, grimly, watching through the loophole at the underbrush which was merged by the shadows into one single ma.s.s of gloom, amid which not even a movement among the branches could be distinguished.
Two more shots, which caused him to wonder why the Abenakis were growing so active, and then he caught a glimpse of a faint spark in the thicket, which at first sight appeared to him like the glow from an Indian's pipe.
He had raised his musket, intending to fire at the bright spot, when it suddenly increased in size, and, while he stood speculating as to what it could be, a long tongue of flame leaped upward from branch to branch.
No need for speculation now, nor was it well that he stand very much longer on guard, for the terrible truth was all to plain.
The Abenakis had fired the woods, counting on burning the palisade, and thus giving them free entrance for the b.l.o.o.d.y business upon which they had come.
His first thought was to run for water, and then, even before he could make a movement toward the spring, came the realization that it was impossible to effect anything by such a course.
He would not be able to throw water upon the fire in the thicket, even though he exposed himself to full view over the top of the palisade, and this was probably exactly what the Indians hoped he might do.
”It begins to look as if we had about come to an end of the defence, and that nothing remains but to sell our lives as dearly as possible,” he said, gloomily, to himself. ”Everything around here is as dry as it well can be, and once the fire gains headway, even the houses must go.”
Mark descended doggedly from the platform, and as he did so Susan cried, from her post of duty near the gate:
”What is on fire?”
”The Abenakis have started a blaze in the woods.”
”Will the fence burn, think you?”
”Ay, when the fire is well under way.”
”Can't we do anything toward putting out the blaze?”
”Nothing, unless we want the Indians to shoot us down before we can fire a shot.”
”Then what is to be done?” and in her distress Susan leaped down from the platform to approach her cousin.
”Better stay where you are!” the lad cried, warningly. ”I don't suppose it will make any great difference to us, and yet we should know if the Frenchmen come ash.o.r.e after seeing the fire.”
The girl returned immediately to her station, and even though he was at a considerable distance from her, Mark could hear the choking sob which escaped her lips.
”Keep up a stout heart, Sue; we can make a last stand inside the house.”
”Ay, Mark; but it will be the last!”
The lad made no reply; he stood at some distance from the palisade as if trying to decide upon a course of action, and while he thus remained irresolute his mother came from the house.
There was no need that she ask for information; the blaze was so bright by this time that it must have been seen by those on the vessel, and Mistress Pemberton inquired in a low tone, but with no tremor in her voice:
”Are the logs dry?”
”Ay, mother; but it will be some time before the flames can eat in very deeply. We've got fifteen or twenty minutes yet.”
”What is to be done?”
”We'll take refuge in the house, and shoot down as many as possible before the fire drives us out.”