THE FIERY ENEMY.
Every one in the block-house, with the exception of the two little
girls of Colonel Preston, was wide awake. The conviction was so strong
that the crisis was at hand, that even Blossom Brown hunted out his
young master Ned Preston, and placing himself by his side, said--
"I's awoke, suah's yo' bo'n."
"It is best that you keep awake too," replied Ned, "for it is a good
deal better than to be awakened by fire and Indians."
"I can't understood why de Injines don't fight fair," said Blossom, with
a tone of impatience; "we don't use fire on dem, and why can't dey do de
same wid us? If I could talk de Injine language, I'd go down dar and try
to argy de matter wid 'em; I'd show 'em de--de--onscrupulousness ob
usin' de flames to burn us out. If we could only make 'em 'shamed, dat
would be a big p'int gained."
"It is nonsense to think of anything like that, Blossom; the Wyandots
are determined to burn down the block-house if there is any way to do
it----"
He abruptly stopped, for the tramp of feet was heard outside, close to
the front door. Megill and Stinger instantly fired down in the
darkness, guided only by the sense of sound; but the cry that rang out
on the snowy air, proved that execution was done.
Instantly there followed such a prodigious shock, from a blow against
the door, that the whole building shook. Before the men could bring
their guns to bear, the sound of rapidly running feet showed that the
Indians had dropped their battering ram and hurried off in the
darkness.
Almost at the same moment Mrs. Preston, who was peering through the
loopholes on the eastern side, saw an Indian arrow, wrapped with
blazing tow, shoot upward from the edge of the woods, and going slower
and slower, as it curved over, sweep downward with a whizzing rush,
and strike the roof overhead, with the same abrupt thud that had been
heard several times.
It was followed immediately by a second from the same point, which
seemed to take the same course, for it lodged very close beside it,
and also held its place.
Then another flaming missile rose from the northern side, then from
the south, and then from behind the river bank, with still others
mounting from intervening points, until a beautiful and terrifying
scene presented itself.
The blazing shafts followed each other in such rapid succession, that
there were fully twenty ascending and descending at the same moment.
These made all manner of fiery parabolas in the snowy atmosphere. One
archer, who sent his missiles from the upper window of the cabin near
the block-house, and another, who discharged his from behind the
pickets close at hand, pointed them so nearly perpendicularly that
they seemed to shoot downward almost directly through the fiery trail
they made in their ascent. Others came from such distant points that
their parabolas were lengthy, and they only rose a short distance
above the block-house itself, before they plunged into the slabs of
the roof.
These struck the latter at every possible angle, and with every
imaginable result. In some cases the arrow was so warped in its flight
that it took a path almost as erratic as that of the Australian
boomerang. Impinging against the roof at an acute angle, it would
glance far upward, and, turning over and over, come tumbling to the
earth, where it flickered a minute and died out.
Others hit the planks, and, like a mountaineer among the rocks, who
could not retain his hold, slid down the steep incline to the ground.
Still others missed the building altogether, and, plunging their
flinty heads in the earth, were quickly extinguished.
But the alarming fact remained that the majority of the flaming
missiles found a lodgment in the roof, where they burned with a
fierceness which showed they were an improvement on those first sent.
One could not but wonder where the Wyandots obtained all these
weapons: they must have started on the expedition with the expectation
of using this peculiar mode of warfare.
The fiery shower lasted but a few minutes, but at the end of that time
there were fully thirty shafts sticking in the roof and burning
vigorously. Viewed from the outside the block-house looked like some
vast monster whose hide was pierced with flaming spears, but who
slumbered on in the darkness, unmindful of the pests.
This lavish distribution of fire showed that the ground was covered
with a fine sprinkling of snow, which was still floating downward at
an almost imperceptible rate. There was no such mantle on the roof. It
was so smooth and steep that most of the particles ran downward and
off. A thin tiny line of snow-points was continually pouring over the
eaves, where the wind blew it to atoms again.
The twists of flame made the air about the cabin luminous, and the
millions of snow-flakes twinkled and glistened with starlike
brilliancy, as they came out of the darkness and fluttered in the glow
for a moment, ere they vanished again.
Several of the burning arrows were fired against the sides of the
block-house, where they flickered a brief while. These, added to the
other missiles on the ground, threw a dull reflection through the
loopholes, that enabled the garrison to see each other "as through a
glass darkly."
Their figures were easily distinguishable, as they moved carefully
about, and now and then the glimpse of a face was so ghastly and
unnatural that it was hard to recognize it. Blossom Brown was the only
one who was distinguishable at the first glance, and even he scarcely
looked like himself.
One unusually strong reflection from an arrow that imbedded itself in
a corner disclosed the faces of the little sisters Mary and Susie,
sleeping beside each other, with the warm comfortable blankets drawn
close about them.
Each had thrown her arm over the other, and their dimpled cheeks
almost touched, as they slumbered sweetly and peacefully, secure in
that trust in their heavenly Father, whom they had asked to take care
of them and their friends, while the wicked Indians tried so hard to
hurt them.
Taking advantage of the illumination, six or eight of the Wyandots
fired at the loopholes thus made visible; but the garrison knew the
danger and kept out of range.
The most alarming fact about the attack was the numerous burning
arrows on the roof. Colonel Preston and Jo Stinger agreed that, after
all, this was the most vulnerable point of the block-house, and it
was more than likely to ignite, if only a moderate number of the fiery
shafts could be made to hold their place a short time.
Although some of the snow found a lodgment under the overlapping
slabs, there was not enough to affect the bits of flame that were
burning in many places.
"This is bad business!" exclaimed the Colonel, "and must be checked at
once."
As he had done in the previous instances the commandant drew a stool
under the trap-door on one side of the roof, while Jo Stinger did the
same on the other. When these were lifted a few inches, the sight
which greeted them was enough to cause consternation. The light which
entered the upper story through the opening thus made disclosed every
object with great distinctness.
Jo Stinger saw that most of the coils of flame were not of a dangerous
nature and would soon expire of themselves; but there were two or
three that were gaining a headway that was likely to do alarming
injury, unless checked.
"Be keerful, Colonel," said Jo, "the varmints are watching us, and
you'll get a shot afore you know it."
The warning was none too soon. Several of the Wyandots were waiting a
movement of the trap-door. They had stationed themselves in the upper
story of the cabin, which gave them the necessary elevation, while the
flaming missiles themselves afforded all the view required.
Two shots were fired at the slight gap made by the lifting of the
covering, and the Colonel dropped it with a bang and an exclamation.
But he quickly rallied and called into play some of the strategy he
had learned during a long experience on the border.
The really dangerous shots (that is, those from the upper story of the
cabin) must necessarily come from one side of the structure. The
Colonel held a piece of planking so that it would act as a shield, and
catch any of the bullets from that point. Grasping the stock of his
rifle with one hand, he then stealthily reached out, and with much
difficulty and labor managed to dislodge the most threatening brands
in that direction.
This left only one in his "jurisdiction" which he really feared. With
a skill that Jo Stinger could not restrain himself from praising,
Colonel Preston managed to send this arrow with its fiery mane
sliding down the roof, without receiving any harm, though more than
one shot was fired at him.
Much the same task confronted Jo Stinger, and he performed it with the
expertness that was to be expected of such a veteran; but when he had
done all he could, there remained the most dangerous shaft of all. It
had lodged in the very peak of the roof, near the southern end, which
was the closest to the cabin that sheltered the Wyandots, and in
direct range of their fire.
This was burning with a persistency which looked as if the tow had
been soaked with some chemical, although such could not be the fact;
but, having found a lodgment, there it stuck and grew, with every
prospect of kindling a blaze that would soon spread to the entire roof
and building.
Jo Stinger fortified himself as best he could, and took every
precaution. Then, amid the dropping shots of the Wyandots, he
carefully felt his way forward with his rifle, until he could not
extend it an inch further: he still lacked more than a foot of
reaching the dangerous spot.
The red men, who saw the failure, raised a shout, and the scout was
compelled to draw back his weapon and muffled arm, without
accomplishing anything toward the extinguishment of the blaze that
threatened the destruction of the block-house and all within.
"You think 'cause Jo Stinger has played the fool, there's nothing left
of his wit, but you'll soon larn he hasn't forgot everything he once
knowed."
"Is it the only one that endangers the roof?" asked Colonel Preston,
as Jo joined them.
"Yes; if we can get that out, the trouble is over for the present,
though I don't know how long it will stay so."
"Suppose you cannot extinguish it?" asked Mrs. Preston.
"Then the block-house has got to burn."
This announcement caused dismay, for all felt that the few blunt words
of the scout were the simple truth. They so affected Blossom Brown
that he dropped back on a stool, and set up a howling that must have
reached the ears of the Wyandots outside.
"It's all de fault ob dat Deerhead--I mean Deerfoot, dat was so orful
anxious to run us into dis old place, when I told 'em it wasn't wise.
I wanted to go back to Wild Oaks where I had some chores to do, but he
obsisted, but took mighty good care to keep out de block-house
hisself, as I took notice----"
Blossom Brown would have gone on for an indefinite time with his loud
wailing, had not Stinger checked him by the threat to throw him out
the trap-door upon the roof.
Afraid that his bluff answer to Mrs. Preston's question might have
caused too much alarm, the scout added--
"If the varmints don't do any more than _that_, we're all right, for
I'm going to put the blaze out."
"You know the risk," said Colonel Preston, apprehensive that Jo
intended some effort that would expose him to extra peril.
"I reckon I do," was the response of the scout, who was the coolest
one of the whole company.
The situation could not have been more trying to the bravest persons.
In a manner almost unaccountable, a blaze had fastened itself in a
point of the roof beyond the reach of those within. There it was
burning and growing steadily, with the certainty that, unless checked
pretty soon, it would be beyond control.
Jo Stinger was the only member of the garrison who appeared equal to
the task, and more than one feared that to save the block-house he
must assume a risk that was certain to prove fatal.
Ned Preston caught the arm of the man in the darkness and asked--
"Can't you put it out with a wet blanket?"
"Well, you're a boy that _does_ know something!" exclaimed Jo, adding
with a burst of admiration, "Give me your hand, younker; that's the
very idee I had in mind."
This "idee," as the hunter termed it, was the ordinary one of
spreading a blanket, soaked with water, over the spaces endangered by
fire. Probably nothing more effective could have been devised, but it
should have been adopted when the peril involved was much less.
One-half of the entire roof was illuminated by the crackling blaze
which was steadily eating its way into the solid timber.
Jo Stinger, having determined on his course, spent no time in useless
conversation. Under his direction one of the blankets was saturated
with water from the precious supply in the barrel. As it was
necessary to see what they were doing, a tallow dip was lit and placed
where it threw a faint illumination through the interior. The garrison
could distinguish each other's figures, and no one needed any advice
to keep out of the path of such bullets as might enter through the
loopholes.
The scene was picturesque and striking. Mary and Susie still lay
wrapped in slumber, and their closed eyes and innocent faces subdued
every step and word, lest they should be awakened. Father and mother
glanced fondly at them many times, and wondered how long that
refreshing unconsciousness would continue.
By general agreement the entire party centered their attention on Jo
Stinger, who, having soaked the blanket, made ready to throw it over
the stubborn fire. The task of necessity was attended by such extreme
peril that all held their peace, oppressed by the gravity of the
danger. At the same time the crackling of the flames and the
unmistakable presence of smoke in the room showed that, if the
extinguishment was delayed much longer, the attempt would be too
late.
Jo placed the chair directly under the trap-door on the eastern side
of the block-house and was about to set foot on it, when Colonel
Preston stepped forward.
"Jo, you've forgotten; the blaze is further over on the other side."
"That's the reason I'm going to take _this_ side."
The Colonel stepped back, and the scout laid the dripping blanket upon
one arm, as though it were an overcoat. Grasping the edge of the
opening, and helped by Megill from below, he quickly climbed upward,
opening the door at the proper moment by the pressure of his head
against it.
It was not raised an inch more than necessary, when he slowly crept
out, like a crab casting its shell.
The blaze which was the cause of all this alarm and care was started,
as will be remembered, in the very peak of the roof, but from some
cause it had worked its way down the western side, which was
necessarily illuminated through its entirety by the light therefrom.
The shifting of the fire threw the eastern half of the roof in
comparative shadow, though the flickering glow was quite certain to
reveal the figure of any large object on it. The fact that Jo emerged
with his dripping blanket without drawing a shot, led him to hope that
his action was unsuspected.
In order to "play every point," Colonel Preston cautiously raised the
trap-door on the other side a few inches, and, guarding his face and
arm, extended the stock of his rifle toward the blaze, as if he
expected to pound it out.
He advanced the weapon quite slowly and with a movement intended to
impress the sharpshooters with the belief that he had perfected an
arrangement by which he was able to reach the endangered point.
As he anticipated, this diversion drew several shots, which whistled
about his head with a vigor that gave him a vivid idea of the
vigilance of the besieging Wyandots.
While this counter-movement was in progress, Jo Stinger was carefully
making his way along the roof on the other side. The unusual steepness
made this difficult, and had he not grasped the peak and held on, he
would have shot along the slope to the ground, as if sliding down the
side of a tree.
Inch by inch he progressed, expecting every minute that a bullet would
be fired at him. He kept the saturated blanket well rolled together
and in front, so that it served the purpose of a shield against any
shot from the cabin, where the sharpshooters seemed to have gathered
for the purpose of keeping the roof clear of all persons.
Jo Stinger had nearly reached the point from which he expected to
"ring down the curtain" on the flame, when he was confronted by an
experience altogether novel and unexpected.
Inasmuch as the burning arrows had done such good service, one of the
Wyandots on the edge of the woods launched another, which went high in
the air and, curving gracefully over, plunged downward toward the
roof.
Jo had no knowledge of its approach, until he heard the whizzing rush
of the flaming shaft, as it drove its head against the wet blanket,
glanced off and slid to the earth.
"It won't do to loaf 'round here," he muttered, "or I'll be crawling
over the roof with a dozen blazing arrers, and if Jo Stinger knows
hisself, he don't mean to play walkin' lantern for the Wyandot
varmints."
He had attained the position he was seeking, and a most delicate piece
of work was before him, but he was equal to it.
The Indians, who were gathered in the cabin, and collected at
different points in the woods and along the stockade, watching the
flame with no little exultation, saw it creeping downward and
spreading with a rapidity which boded ill for the garrison huddled
beneath.
The fine, silver-like snowflakes glistened in the fire-light, and
floated shudderingly down the roof, without affecting the blaze; but
at the moment when scores of eyes were gleaming like those of so many
wild beasts, a dark shadow suddenly disclosed itself--what seemed an
immense black hand spread out and closed over the dangerous fire,
which was instantly extinguished.