THE SIEGE OF THE HOUSE.
They had started from the woods the moment the explosion occurred, and
they would have arrived earlier but for the fresh snow that lay on the
frozen crust.
"Stand firm!" cried Menzies. "Give them a raking volley at close
quarters."
"And be ready to retire in good order," I shouted. "We can't afford to
lose a man."
With that the living tide was upon us. Screeching and veiling like
demons, the horde of savages struck the weakened northeast angle of the
fort. There was no checking them, though our muskets poured a leaden
rain. Some entered by the breach, dashing over the debris of wood and
stone; others clambered to the top of the palisades and dropped down
inside.
At the first we had to retire a little, so overwhelming was the rush.
Then we made a brief stand and tried to stem the torrent. Bang, bang,
bang! bullets flew thickly, from both sides and hissing tomahawks fell
among us. I saw two men drop near me, and heard cries of agony mingling
with the infernal din. We held our ground until the foremost of the
savages were at arm's length, striking and hacking at us through the
snow and powder smoke. Two or three score were already within the fort,
and when a section of the stockade fell with a crash--borne down by
sheer weight--I believed for a terrible moment that all was lost.
"Back, back!" I cried hoarsely. "Back for your lives, men! We can't do
anything more here!"
"Ay, the inclosure is taken!" shouted Captain Rudstone. "Back to the
house! Keep your faces to the foe, and make every shot tell!"
Menzies called out a similar order, seeing that any delay would imperil
our last chance, and those of us who were left slowly began the retreat.
We drew off into the narrow passage, with high banks of snow on either
side, that led to the factor's house. The yelling redskins pressed after
us, and for several moments, by a cool and steady fire, we prevented
them from coming to close quarters again.
We kept firing and loading while we moved backward, and as it was next
to impossible to miss, the Indians seemed disheartened by the heavy
damage we inflicted on them. For ourselves, we lost three men in a brief
time, and we would have lost more but for the shelter of the
outbuildings, round some of which the path turned.
When we were halfway to the house, and had passed the quarters, we were
joined by the sentries from the southwest tower. But now the savages
plucked up courage, and made a rush that brought them within six yards
of us. We stood at bay, and delivered a straggling fire. The Indians
returned it as they pushed on doggedly. A voyageur fell at my side, and
another dropped in front of me. There was a sudden cry that the priest
was shot, and glancing to the right, I saw Father Cleary reel down in
the snow and lie motionless.
"We must run for it!" shouted Captain Rudstone. "Make a dash for the
house, men!"
"For God's sake, no!" I yelled hoarsely. "If we turn now we will be
overtaken and butchered! Hold firm!"
Just then, when the situation was most critical, an unexpected thing
gave us the opportunity we so sorely needed. In the retreat we had
dragged one of the howitzers along with us, and we had forgotten until
now that it was loaded. In a trice we put it in position and touched it
off.
Crash! The heavy charge ploughed into the huddled mass of savages. To
judge from the agonized shrieks that followed the loss of life must have
been terrible, but we could see nothing for the dense cloud of smoke
that hung between us.
"To the house!" cried Menzies.
"Quick--for your lives!" I shouted.
With that we turned our backs and made off, dashing along in some
disorder and leaving the howitzer behind. We half expected to be
overtaken, but by the time the Indians had recovered from their check
and pushed on, the house was before us.
We staggered inside by twos and threes, and closed and barred the
massive door. A respite for rest and breathing was badly needed, but we
did not dare to take it. Half of our men went to the front loopholes,
and as fast as they could load and fire they picked off the yelling
wretches who were now swarming thickly before the house. In their
frenzied rage they exposed themselves recklessly, sending volley after
volley of lead against the stout beams and even hurling tomahawks.
I took no part in this scrimmage myself. With Menzies and several others
I went over the lower floor of the house, and made sure that all was in
right condition for a protracted siege. We placed lighted candles in the
hall, and opened the doors communicating with it, so that some light
could shine into the various rooms.
Meanwhile the firing had dwindled and ceased, and when we returned to
the front we found that the Indians had abandoned the attack and melted
away; none were in sight from the loopholes, but we could hear them
making a great clamor in the direction of the trading house and other
outbuildings.
This relief gave us a chance to consult regarding our future plans, and
to count up our little force. Alas! but sixteen of us had entered the
house. That was our whole number; the rest of the forty odd had perished
during the fighting of the past two days; and not the least mourned
among that night's casualties was brave Father Cleary. Fortunately, none
of us were disabled, though Christopher Burley had been grazed by a
bullet, and Captain Rudstone and several others had been gashed slightly
by tomahawks. The wounded transferred from the hospital, who were in a
small room at the rear, were now reduced to five; two had died that
morning, as Dr. Knapp predicted.
But there was no time for useless grief or idleness. We had no sooner
served out rations, loaded all the guns and posted the men on the four
sides of the house than the Indians showed a determination to crown
their triumph by taking our stronghold. At first they kept to the
shelter of the surrounding outbuildings, and blazed steadily away at the
house, on the chance of sending a bullet through the loopholes or the
chinks of the logs. Twice a little squad of savages rushed forward
carrying a beam, with which they hoped to batter down the door. But we
poured a hot fire into them--it was light enough outside for us to take
aim--and each time they wavered and fell back, leaving the snow dotted
with dead bodies.
After that came a lull, except for intermittent shots, and Captain
Rudstone predicted that an unpleasant surprise was being prepared for us
by the Northwest men whom we believed to be among the redskins.
"It may be all that," I answered him stoutly, "but the house is not to
be taken."
A little later I took advantage of the inaction to go upstairs, whither
Menzies had already preceded me. He was with his wife and Miss Hatherton
in a back room with one small window, and that protected by a heavy
shutter.
I drew Flora aside and explained to her, as hopefully as possible, the
plan by which we expected ultimately to escape to Fort York. What else I
said to her, or what sweet and thrilling words she whispered into my
ear, I do not purpose to set down here; but when I returned to the lower
floor my heart was throbbing with happiness, and I felt strengthened and
braced to meet whatever fate might hold in store. I was strangely
confident at the time that we should outwit our bloodthirsty foes.
Menzies followed me below, and almost at once the Indians renewed the
attack, mainly on the front of the house and on the north side. They
exposed themselves on the verge of the outbuildings, blazing away
steadily, and drawing a constant return fire from our men. At the end of
a quarter of an hour they were still wasting ammunition. They must have
suffered heavily, and yet not one of their bullets had done us any harm.
I wandered from room to room, taking an occasional shot, and finally I
stopped in the hall, where Captain Rudstone and three others were posted
at the loopholes right and left of the door.
"The Indians will run out of powder presently; if they keep up at this
rate," said I. "They can't have much of a leader."
"Too clever a one for us," the captain answered, as he loaded his
musket. "This is only a ruse, a diversion, Carew. There is something to
follow."
"I hope it will come soon," I replied. "Then the savages will likely
draw off and give us a chance to put a force of men to work at the
tunnel. We should finish it by noon to-morrow, and escape through it at
nightfall. If the snow keeps up--as it gives promise of doing--our
tracks will be covered before we have gone a mile."
"I like the plan," said old Carteret, the voyageur. "It sounds well, and
it's possible to be carried out under certain conditions. But if you'll
not mind my saying--"
He paused an instant to aim and fire.
"One redskin the less," he added, peering out the loophole; "he sprang
three feet in the air when I plugged him. As for your plan, Mr. Carew, I
think the odds are about evenly divided. There's the chance that the
varmints will suspect something of the sort, and watch the stockade on
all sides."
"Likely enough," assented Captain Rudstone; "but it's not to that
quarter I look for the danger. The Indians can take the house by assault
in an hour if they choose to sacrifice a lot of lives."
"It would cost fifty or a hundred," said I. "They won't pay such a
price."
"There is no telling how far they will go," the captain answered
gravely, "with Northwest Company men to egg them on."
As he spoke there was a sudden and noisy alarm from the room on the
right of the hall, which commanded the south side of the house. Half a
dozen muskets cracked in rapid succession, the reports blending with a
din of voices. Then Menzies yelled hoarsely: "This way, men! Come, for
God's sake! Quick, or we are lost!"
The summons was promptly responded to. I was the first to dash into the
room, followed by Rudstone and Carteret. I put my eyes to a vacant
loophole and what I saw fairly froze the blood in my veins.