AN ATTACK
When the women and smaller children were inside the dwelling, Mark
said to his companions:
"It is better to have something in the way of work on hand than
remain idle, and it has come into my mind that we might improve our
condition if we raised the top of the stockade so that we could
stand on the platforms without being seen by those outside."
"How would you set about it?" Luke asked, with mild curiosity.
"A heavy timber might be made fast to the top of the palisade, and,
by making loopholes between the upper ends of the logs, we would be
hidden from view, and at the same time be able to keep watch."
"Do you count that we should go after logs, taking the chances that
the enemy will make a landing right away?"
"I intend to go alone, while you and Susan stand guard. Shout if you
see a single boat putting off from the harbor island, and then I can
get inside the enclosure before the enemy will be able to paddle
over here."
Mark did not wait to learn if his companions had any criticism to
make on his proposition, but set off in search of the axe without
delay, and the others had no choice but to mount guard.
[Illustration: He returned with a heavy log.]
When the lad went through the gate he directed that it be barred
behind him, lest there might be Indians in the thicket, and a few
moments later it was possible to hear the sound of his sturdy blows
as he felled the trees.
In less than half an hour he returned with a heavy log that had been
squared on one side, and, after having been given admittance, he
laid this on the posts above the platform on which Susan was
stationed. By chopping either side of the uprights, close to the
top, he made V-shaped apertures of sufficient size to admit of a
musket-barrel being thrust through, thus forming five or six
loopholes for the sentinel.
Therefore it was one could remain on the platform without being
exposed to view of the enemy directly in front, and such shelter
would be of great value to the defenders while the attacking party
was a short distance away.
By means of wooden pins Mark secured the log in place, although not
very firmly, and the three children who were to defend the stockade
believed their position had been decidedly strengthened by such a
device.
Another hour was spent in felling trees, fitting the timbers, and
putting them in place. Then Mark occupied himself with making a
careful examination of every portion of the palisade, after which,
he said, with a long-drawn sigh:
"I can think of nothing else that is likely to improve the defences,
and it only remains to wait until the enemy is ready to begin
operations. What has been done aboard the schooner?"
"Many of the men have gone ashore on the harbor island," Luke
replied. "The sails are furled, and everything snugged down as if
for a long stay."
"Have you seen the Abenakis?"
"Two or three of them yet remain aboard the schooner; but the larger
number are on shore."
Then Mark clambered up on one of the platforms, straining his eyes
to learn what the strangers were doing with the hope of being able
to make some guess as to when another attack would be made; but in
this last he was unsuccessful. The men were lounging on the vessel,
or ashore, as if their only purpose was to pass the time pleasantly,
and utterly heedless as to whether they were seen by those inside
the stockade.
"Whoever is in command of the Frenchmen will direct the next
assault," Mark said, sufficiently loud to be heard by his companions
at their several posts of duty. "It is known that we count on
defending ourselves, and we may expect to see the entire force
before us within the coming ten or twelve hours."
"What about the powder?" Luke asked.
"We have none too much; but enough, I believe, if we are careful in
making every shot count, to last us during two assaults. After that,
if we're alive, there'll be a short allowance."
"A boat is putting off from the schooner, and heading this way,"
Susan announced, and the boys gave no further heed as to
speculations regarding the future, for it seemed as if the enemy was
about to begin operations.
In a very short time, however, it could be understood that there was
no danger of an immediate attack, for the craft coming shoreward
from the vessel was a canoe in which were but three men.
The sentinels were unable to understand the meaning of this
movement. It did not seem probable the enemy counted on boldly
reconnoitering the island, nor was it reasonable to suppose any
attack was to be made with so small a force, and Mark said, in
perplexity:
"I can't make out why they are coming; but we'll be ready for
whatever turn affairs may take."
"Shall we fire on them if they get too near?" Susan asked.
"Unless they claim to be friends, which isn't likely, we'll treat
them exactly as we would the Abenakis, if they were bold enough to
land in broad day," Mark replied, and, as assurance of his
intentions, he made certain his musket was ready for immediate use.
The strangers paddled directly toward the spot where were kept the
boats of the settlers, beached the canoe, and straightway approached
the stockade, as friends might have done.
The three children on guard watched the newcomers curiously, until
they were within fifty or sixty paces of the gate, and then Mark
hailed:
"It will be safer to halt where you are until we understand the
reason for this visit," he cried, showing himself above the
palisade, with musket in hand.
"Are you in command of the stockade?" one of the visitors asked, as
all three came to a full stop.
"Ay, for the time being."
"How many have you in garrison?" one of the newcomers asked, as he
advanced a single pace, to show that he was authorized to act as
spokesman for his party.
"That is for you to find out," Mark replied, with a smile. "You must
take us for simples, if it is in your mind that we will give all the
information demanded."
"I did not ask to gain information, for we know exactly the number
of women and children here. I desired that you yourself should state
it in order to the better understand how entirely you are at our
mercy," The man said, and his manner of speech told that he was
French.
"I do not need to repeat it, having seen your force, and knowing my
own full well."
"Then you can understand that when I offer good quarter if you
surrender without resistance, it should do away with any necessity
for a conflict."
"Are you ready to give the same quarter your people promised at
Falmouth, when the defenceless prisoners were murdered by you
Frenchmen?" Mark cried, angrily.
"I give you my word of honor as a soldier, than no one shall be
harmed if you surrender this place immediately," the officer
replied, sharply.
"If I have heard rightly, the Baron de Castine gave the same pledge
at Falmouth, and afterward excused himself by saying that he could
not restrain the Indian allies," Mark said, stoutly. "Since then it
is difficult to believe that French officers have any too much
honor; otherwise, perhaps, they would not fight side by side with
savages."
"Do you refuse to surrender?" the visitor asked, angrily.
[Illustration: "Do you refuse to surrender?"]
"Ay, that I do, and all here are of the same mind with me. It is
better to die fighting than be put to the torture by your allies,
whom, mayhap, you could not restrain."
"My force is so large that you will be crushed in a twinkling, and,
if you resist, no mercy may be expected. I have come in the effort
to save your lives."
"Why should it be necessary?" Mark asked. "What have we done that
you strive to take possession of our homes?"
"That is not a question to be discussed," the officer replied,
impatiently. "It is my intention to clear this island of settlers,
and I hope at such time to aid you."
"It is a brave piece of business to wait until our fathers have gone
away, and then come here to fight women and children!" Susan cried,
sharply. "Are all French officers so valiant?"
It was impossible for the visitor to see the speaker; but he knew
from the voice that the words were uttered by a girl, and his face
reddened, as he bit his lip to hold back a retort.
"I offer you good quarter, and to that pledge my word, if you submit
at once," he said, after a brief pause. "In case you are so foolish
as to dream of holding out against us, much loss of blood must
ensue."
"That is bound to come," Mark replied, gravely. "We are resolved to
hold this stockade as long as there is one left alive to fire a
musket, and when you succeed in the noble work of murdering women
and children, there will be none left alive for the savages, your
very good friends, to torture."
"And that is your last word?" the officer asked, half-turning on his
heel.
"The last," Mark replied.
The Frenchman stood irresolutely while one might have counted ten,
and then, wheeling about, he marched toward the shore, looking back
from time to time as if believing the young defenders might repent
of having given such an answer.
"We have shut off all chance of making a bargain with them," Luke
said, half to himself, and Susan replied, stoutly:
"It would have shamed me had Mark treated with them! Why should they
offer us quarter? We have done nothing to warrant their making an
attack upon us, and it is well they should hear the truth--that it
is nothing less than murder. People don't make war in such a fashion
as this!"
Mark gave no heed to what his companions were saying. His eyes were
fixed on the canoe, in which the three men had embarked, and it was
in his mind that when they regained the schooner there would be a
decided change in the position of affairs.
And in this he was not mistaken; within half an hour the boats
belonging to the schooner, and the canoes of the Indians, were
engaged in transporting the men to the shore of Mount Desert, half a
mile or more north of the stockade.
"There's one satisfaction to be had in arousing the Frenchman's
temper," Mark said, grimly, when the work of disembarkation was well
under way. "We won't need to expect a night attack, and hang around
in suspense waiting for it, because the assault is to be begun some
time before sunset. We had best get out our supply of ammunition,
and warn the others that they will soon be needed."
It was Susan who went to summon her mother and aunt, and when she
returned, carrying a heavy burden of powder and bullets, it was to
report:
"The children are to be kept in the house, under charge of Ellen.
The others will be here in a minute or two."
"They can't come any too soon," Luke said, nervously. "The Frenchmen
are already marching along the shore, with the Abenakis trailing on
behind."
Susan was at her post of duty in a twinkling, and, looking out
through the rough loopholes, she saw no less than twenty white men,
ten of whom were armed with muskets, and the others carrying pikes,
the head of which glittered in the sun, marching in soldierly array
down the beach. In their rear slouched nine Indians, and it was safe
to assume that the remainder of the red-skinned party had been
disabled during the first assault.
It was a positive relief to Mark when he saw that the enemy was
intending to march directly upon the stockade, most likely counting
on carrying the place by the first assault. If the force had been
divided, so that a portion might attack from the rear at the same
time the others were in front, the task of holding them in check
would have been well-nigh hopeless.
Even as it was, with everything in the children's favor, it did not
seem possible they could defend themselves against such a force; but
Mark said, as if believing the chances for success were very good:
"Remember that we can't afford to waste any bullets. If each of us
could hit the target three times in succession, I warrant you those
valiant Frenchmen would be eager to gain the shelter of their
vessel. Both of you can strike four squirrels out of five at fifty
paces, and surely you should be able to do as well when the mark is
so much larger and moving slowly. Don't shoot until you are certain
of hitting your man, and we'll soon see those fellow's backs."
Mistress Pemberton and Mistress Harding had come to do their share
in the one-sided battle. Both the women looked pale and distressed,
as was but natural under the desperate circumstances; but a single
glance at their faces would have told that they believed the only
course to be a stout resistance, even though it should cost the
lives of all.
At the shore, directly in front of the stockade, the Indians forced
a halt of the white men, by seemingly insisting that some other
method of procedure be adopted, and during two or three minutes it
appeared as if they would carry their point.
Mark drew a long breath of relief, however, when the officer who had
demanded the surrender pushed his way past the savages with a
threatening gesture, as he ordered the men forward again.
"They are coming straight on in a body," he said, in a low tone.
"When you are certain of hitting the mark, shoot, and have the
second musket where it can be got at quickly. If we could get in six
fair shots at the start, it would be a big advantage."
Each of the children on the platforms had two muskets loaded, and
the women stood ready to take every weapon as soon as it was empty.
The ammunition, divided into three portions, was near the
sharpshooters, and nothing remained to be done save take part in the
life or death struggle so near at hand.
Steadily the French marched toward the stockade, evidently intending
to begin the attack near the gate, and it was Susan who fired the
first shot.
As the report of her musket rang out, one of the foremost men
plunged forward to the ground, and five seconds later Mark brought
another of the enemy down.
Luke fired, but failed of doing execution. He seized the second
musket hurriedly, however, and crippled his foe, thus doing half as
much as Mark had required.
"Three down in four shots isn't so bad!" the leader cried,
encouragingly, and the words were hardly more than spoken before
both he and Susan fired the second time, each of the bullets finding
its billet.
Now it was that the Frenchmen halted without the word of command,
and opened fire.
During three or four minutes it was as if a perfect hail-storm of
lead raged around the stockade, but the stout logs afforded good
protection. Never a missile found its way inside, and the spirits of
the besieged rose rapidly.
Acting under Mark's orders, neither Susan nor Luke had attempted to
make reply to the furious shooting, lest a bullet accidentally come
through one of the loopholes, and when, because their weapons were
empty, the soldiers ceased the aimless firing, the children's
muskets had been recharged.
"If we can do as well as we did before, those fellows will soon show
their backs!" Mark cried, cheerily, himself setting the example by
wounding the officer.
Now the bullets came thick and fast during a full minute, and then
the foremost of the assailants began to fall back, carrying the
officer with them, and an instant later the entire party was in full
and disorderly retreat.
Three children had actually beaten back twenty white men and nine
Indians, without having received a scratch!
Not until the faint-hearted men were at the water's edge, beyond
range of those in the stockade, was a halt made, and then it
appeared as if they were holding a council of war.
[Illustration: An instant later the entire party was in retreat.]
The officer was laid in one of the boats, and the soldiers gathered
around him, the able-bodied gesticulating furiously, and the wounded
seated on the sand attending to their injuries. None had been killed
outright, but the majority of those who had been hit would not be
likely to take part in another attack, unless it was delayed for a
considerable time.
It seemed as if the white men gave but little attention to what the
Indians said during this council, for the savages were shouldered
aside with scant ceremony, and after a few moments all the Abenakis,
for none had been wounded, stalked gravely southward, where they
were soon lost to view amid the bushes.
"We're going to have trouble from those fellows, and it won't be
long coming," Mark said, as he leaped down from the platform, and
ran toward that portion of the stockade immediately in the rear of
the dwellings. "Keep a sharp watch over the Frenchmen, and let me
know what they are doing!"
Then he began putting up a platform at that point where he could
overlook the thicket, which last had been allowed to grow
dangerously near the buildings, and had hardly mounted for the
purpose of making a hasty survey, when a bullet imbedded itself in
one of the posts against which he leaned.
"What is the matter?" Susan cried.
"The Abenakis have sneaked around here, where they can shoot while
remaining under cover. Let mother come to load my muskets!"
The report of Mark's weapon followed the words, and from the thicket
two or three muskets were discharged, thus showing that the entire
force of Indians was lurking amid the underbrush.
Susan came running toward her cousin, carrying a weapon in each
hand, and the latter asked, sharply:
"Why have you left your post? The Abenakis won't kick up much of a
row until after dark."
"There is nothing to be done at the other side," Susan replied, as
she set about dragging two or three lobster-pots toward the
palisade. "The Frenchmen are paddling back to the schooner, not
leaving one behind, and Luke is watching to see when they leave the
vessel again."
Another bullet from the Thicket whistled uncomfortably near Mark's
head, and he understood that the most dangerous portion of the
attack was now to be met, for it was impossible to see a single foe.
The swaying of the branches or the tiny curls of smoke, were the
only tokens of an enemy, save when a weapon was discharged.
"Keep down under cover!" Mark cried, when Susan would have mounted
the collection of lobster-pots. "They are shooting close, and if you
should be disabled we would be in even worse trouble than we are
now."
"But you are showing them a target."
"Some one must be here to hold them back."
"Then I have the same right as you," and the courageous girl
clambered up on the shaky platform until it was possible for her to
look over the palisade.
It was a most dangerous position, and, fearing lest she should be
killed, Mark left his station to chop away the ends of the posts to
make loopholes.
"Now you can have a view of the woods without showing yourself," he
said, and would have gone back to his previous position, exposed
though it was, but that she stopped him by asking:
"Will you do the same at your end of the fence as you have here?"
"There isn't so much need for me to keep under cover."
"There is ten times more reason why you should be careful than for
me to skulk behind the posts. Unless you hew the timbers at your
station as you have these, I shall change places with you."
Mistress Pemberton added her commands to Susan's entreaties, with
the result that Mark was forced to protect himself so far as
possible, but while he chopped at the posts half a dozen bullets
struck close around the axe, showing that the Indians were on the
alert.
When half an hour had passed neither Mark nor Susan had seen one of
their enemies. Several times they fired at the places where the
branches were waving as if some person was walking beneath them; but
no cry of pain was heard to tell that the bullet had taken effect.
During this time Luke had reported more than once that the Frenchmen
yet remained on board their vessel, and when the sun was sinking
behind the hills Mark said to his cousin:
"We're wasting too much powder and lead, Sue. I don't believe one of
our bullets has gone home, and we have sent far too many at random.
The Frenchmen are not beaten yet, and we must have plenty of
ammunition when they come again."
"What, then, are we to do?"
"I will stay here, keeping guard lest the Abenakis attempt to scale
the fence. You and our mothers shall attend to the household duties,
holding yourselves in readiness to come whenever I shout."
"But there is nothing for me to do in the house."
"Then take advantage of the opportunity to get a little rest, for
it is certain that we shall have our hands full during all this
night. Get supper, if nothing more, and then bring me something to
drink."
"I'll do that first, and then look after myself," Susan said, as she
went toward the house, and a moment later Mark heard from her a cry
of distress.
"What's the matter?" he shouted, wildly, fearing, for the instant,
that some of the savages had gained entrance to the dwelling despite
his careful watch.
"The water! The water!" Susan cried, mournfully, and then came a hum
of voices raised high in excitement and fear, amid which the
sentinel could distinguish no words.
"Come here, Susan!" Mark shouted, peremptorily, and as the girl
appeared he demanded, "Now tell me what has gone wrong?"
"The children have spilled all the water we took into the house, and
there's not a drop to be had!"
"But they couldn't have carried the spring away," Mark replied, with
a laugh, able to make merry even amid the terrible surroundings, so
great was his relief at learning that nothing more serious had
caused the cry which startled him.
"The sheep have gathered there, until the entire place is a mass of
filthy mud."
"Well, well, don't let that distress you so sorely. We'll soon be
able to clear it out, for I reckon these beggarly Abenakis won't
keep me busy more than twelve hours."
"But if the Frenchmen should come in the meantime?"
"We'll take our chances of that, and get along without water a
little while."