CHAPTER XVIII.

  THE FIERY ENEMY.

  Every one in the block-house, with the exception of the two littlegirls of Colonel Preston, was wide awake. The conviction was so strongthat the crisis was at hand, that even Blossom Brown hunted out hisyoung 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 gooddeal better than to be awakened by fire and Indians."

  "I can't understood why de Injines don't fight fair," said Blossom, witha tone of impatience; "we don't use fire on dem, and why can't dey do desame wid us? If I could talk de Injine language, I'd go down dar and tryto argy de matter wid 'em; I'd show 'em de--de--onscrupulousness obusin' de flames to burn us out. If we could only make 'em 'shamed, datwould be a big p'int gained."

  "It is nonsense to think of anything like that, Blossom; the Wyandotsare determined to burn down the block-house if there is any way to doit----"

  He abruptly stopped, for the tramp of feet was heard outside, close tothe front door. Megill and Stinger instantly fired down in thedarkness, guided only by the sense of sound; but the cry that rang outon the snowy air, proved that execution was done.

  Instantly there followed such a prodigious shock, from a blow againstthe door, that the whole building shook. Before the men could bringtheir guns to bear, the sound of rapidly running feet showed that theIndians had dropped their battering ram and hurried off in thedarkness.

  Almost at the same moment Mrs. Preston, who was peering through theloopholes on the eastern side, saw an Indian arrow, wrapped withblazing tow, shoot upward from the edge of the woods, and going slowerand slower, as it curved over, sweep downward with a whizzing rush,and strike the roof overhead, with the same abrupt thud that had beenheard several times.

  It was followed immediately by a second from the same point, whichseemed 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 fromthe south, and then from behind the river bank, with still othersmounting from intervening points, until a beautiful and terrifyingscene presented itself.

  The blazing shafts followed each other in such rapid succession, thatthere were fully twenty ascending and descending at the same moment.These made all manner of fiery parabolas in the snowy atmosphere. Onearcher, who sent his missiles from the upper window of the cabin nearthe block-house, and another, who discharged his from behind thepickets close at hand, pointed them so nearly perpendicularly thatthey seemed to shoot downward almost directly through the fiery trailthey made in their ascent. Others came from such distant points thattheir parabolas were lengthy, and they only rose a short distanceabove the block-house itself, before they plunged into the slabs ofthe roof.

  These struck the latter at every possible angle, and with everyimaginable result. In some cases the arrow was so warped in its flightthat it took a path almost as erratic as that of the Australianboomerang. Impinging against the roof at an acute angle, it wouldglance far upward, and, turning over and over, come tumbling to theearth, where it flickered a minute and died out.

  Others hit the planks, and, like a mountaineer among the rocks, whocould not retain his hold, slid down the steep incline to the ground.Still others missed the building altogether, and, plunging theirflinty heads in the earth, were quickly extinguished.

  But the alarming fact remained that the majority of the flamingmissiles found a lodgment in the roof, where they burned with afierceness which showed they were an improvement on those first sent.One could not but wonder where the Wyandots obtained all theseweapons: they must have started on the expedition with the expectationof using this peculiar mode of warfare.

  The fiery shower lasted but a few minutes, but at the end of that timethere were fully thirty shafts sticking in the roof and burningvigorously. Viewed from the outside the block-house looked like somevast monster whose hide was pierced with flaming spears, but whoslumbered on in the darkness, unmindful of the pests.

  This lavish distribution of fire showed that the ground was coveredwith a fine sprinkling of snow, which was still floating downward atan almost imperceptible rate. There was no such mantle on the roof. Itwas so smooth and steep that most of the particles ran downward andoff. A thin tiny line of snow-points was continually pouring over theeaves, where the wind blew it to atoms again.

  The twists of flame made the air about the cabin luminous, and themillions of snow-flakes twinkled and glistened with starlikebrilliancy, as they came out of the darkness and fluttered in the glowfor a moment, ere they vanished again.

  Several of the burning arrows were fired against the sides of theblock-house, where they flickered a brief while. These, added to theother missiles on the ground, threw a dull reflection through theloopholes, that enabled the garrison to see each other "as through aglass darkly."

  Their figures were easily distinguishable, as they moved carefullyabout, and now and then the glimpse of a face was so ghastly andunnatural that it was hard to recognize it. Blossom Brown was the onlyone who was distinguishable at the first glance, and even he scarcelylooked like himself.

  One unusually strong reflection from an arrow that imbedded itself ina corner disclosed the faces of the little sisters Mary and Susie,sleeping beside each other, with the warm comfortable blankets drawnclose about them.

  Each had thrown her arm over the other, and their dimpled cheeksalmost touched, as they slumbered sweetly and peacefully, secure inthat trust in their heavenly Father, whom they had asked to take careof them and their friends, while the wicked Indians tried so hard tohurt them.

  Taking advantage of the illumination, six or eight of the Wyandotsfired at the loopholes thus made visible; but the garrison knew thedanger and kept out of range.

  The most alarming fact about the attack was the numerous burningarrows on the roof. Colonel Preston and Jo Stinger agreed that, afterall, this was the most vulnerable point of the block-house, and itwas more than likely to ignite, if only a moderate number of the fieryshafts could be made to hold their place a short time.

  Although some of the snow found a lodgment under the overlappingslabs, there was not enough to affect the bits of flame that wereburning in many places.

  "This is bad business!" exclaimed the Colonel, "and must be checked atonce."

  As he had done in the previous instances the commandant drew a stoolunder the trap-door on one side of the roof, while Jo Stinger did thesame on the other. When these were lifted a few inches, the sightwhich greeted them was enough to cause consternation. The light whichentered the upper story through the opening thus made disclosed everyobject with great distinctness.

  Jo Stinger saw that most of the coils of flame were not of a dangerousnature and would soon expire of themselves; but there were two orthree that were gaining a headway that was likely to do alarminginjury, unless checked.

  "Be keerful, Colonel," said Jo, "the varmints are watching us, andyou'll get a shot afore you know it."

  The warning was none too soon. Several of the Wyandots were waiting amovement of the trap-door. They had stationed themselves in the upperstory of the cabin, which gave them the necessary elevation, while theflaming missiles themselves afforded all the view required.

  Two shots were fired at the slight gap made by the lifting of thecovering, and the Colonel dropped it with a bang and an exclamation.But he quickly rallied and called into play some of the strategy hehad learned during a long experience on the border.

  The really dangerous shots (that is, those from the upper story of thecabin) must necessarily come from one side of the structure. TheColonel held a piece of planking so that it would act as a shield, andcatch any of the bullets from that point. Grasping the stock of hisrifle with one hand, he then stealthily reached out, and with muchdifficulty and labor managed to dislodge the most threatening brandsin that direction.

  This left only one in his "jurisdiction" which he
really feared. Witha skill that Jo Stinger could not restrain himself from praising,Colonel Preston managed to send this arrow with its fiery manesliding down the roof, without receiving any harm, though more thanone shot was fired at him.

  Much the same task confronted Jo Stinger, and he performed it with theexpertness that was to be expected of such a veteran; but when he haddone all he could, there remained the most dangerous shaft of all. Ithad lodged in the very peak of the roof, near the southern end, whichwas the closest to the cabin that sheltered the Wyandots, and indirect range of their fire.

  This was burning with a persistency which looked as if the tow hadbeen soaked with some chemical, although such could not be the fact;but, having found a lodgment, there it stuck and grew, with everyprospect of kindling a blaze that would soon spread to the entire roofand building.

  Jo Stinger fortified himself as best he could, and took everyprecaution. Then, amid the dropping shots of the Wyandots, hecarefully felt his way forward with his rifle, until he could notextend it an inch further: he still lacked more than a foot ofreaching the dangerous spot.

  The red men, who saw the failure, raised a shout, and the scout wascompelled to draw back his weapon and muffled arm, withoutaccomplishing anything toward the extinguishment of the blaze thatthreatened the destruction of the block-house and all within.

  "You think 'cause Jo Stinger has played the fool, there's nothing leftof his wit, but you'll soon larn he hasn't forgot everything he onceknowed."

  "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 wordsof the scout were the simple truth. They so affected Blossom Brownthat he dropped back on a stool, and set up a howling that must havereached the ears of the Wyandots outside.

  "It's all de fault ob dat Deerhead--I mean Deerfoot, dat was so orfulanxious 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 heobsisted, but took mighty good care to keep out de block-househisself, as I took notice----"

  Blossom Brown would have gone on for an indefinite time with his loudwailing, had not Stinger checked him by the threat to throw him outthe trap-door upon the roof.

  Afraid that his bluff answer to Mrs. Preston's question might havecaused too much alarm, the scout added--

  "If the varmints don't do any more than _that_, we're all right, forI'm going to put the blaze out."

  "You know the risk," said Colonel Preston, apprehensive that Jointended some effort that would expose him to extra peril.

  "I reckon I do," was the response of the scout, who was the coolestone 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 apoint of the roof beyond the reach of those within. There it wasburning and growing steadily, with the certainty that, unless checkedpretty soon, it would be beyond control.

  Jo Stinger was the only member of the garrison who appeared equal tothe task, and more than one feared that to save the block-house hemust 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, addingwith a burst of admiration, "Give me your hand, younker; that's thevery idee I had in mind."

  This "idee," as the hunter termed it, was the ordinary one ofspreading a blanket, soaked with water, over the spaces endangered byfire. Probably nothing more effective could have been devised, but itshould have been adopted when the peril involved was much less.One-half of the entire roof was illuminated by the crackling blazewhich was steadily eating its way into the solid timber.

  Jo Stinger, having determined on his course, spent no time in uselessconversation. Under his direction one of the blankets was saturatedwith water from the precious supply in the barrel. As it wasnecessary to see what they were doing, a tallow dip was lit and placedwhere it threw a faint illumination through the interior. The garrisoncould distinguish each other's figures, and no one needed any adviceto keep out of the path of such bullets as might enter through theloopholes.

  The scene was picturesque and striking. Mary and Susie still laywrapped in slumber, and their closed eyes and innocent faces subduedevery step and word, lest they should be awakened. Father and motherglanced fondly at them many times, and wondered how long thatrefreshing unconsciousness would continue.

  By general agreement the entire party centered their attention on JoStinger, who, having soaked the blanket, made ready to throw it overthe stubborn fire. The task of necessity was attended by such extremeperil that all held their peace, oppressed by the gravity of thedanger. At the same time the crackling of the flames and theunmistakable presence of smoke in the room showed that, if theextinguishment was delayed much longer, the attempt would be toolate.

  Jo placed the chair directly under the trap-door on the eastern sideof the block-house and was about to set foot on it, when ColonelPreston 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 uponone arm, as though it were an overcoat. Grasping the edge of theopening, and helped by Megill from below, he quickly climbed upward,opening the door at the proper moment by the pressure of his headagainst it.

  It was not raised an inch more than necessary, when he slowly creptout, 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 somecause it had worked its way down the western side, which wasnecessarily illuminated through its entirety by the light therefrom.

  The shifting of the fire threw the eastern half of the roof incomparative shadow, though the flickering glow was quite certain toreveal the figure of any large object on it. The fact that Jo emergedwith his dripping blanket without drawing a shot, led him to hope thathis action was unsuspected.

  In order to "play every point," Colonel Preston cautiously raised thetrap-door on the other side a few inches, and, guarding his face andarm, extended the stock of his rifle toward the blaze, as if heexpected to pound it out.

  He advanced the weapon quite slowly and with a movement intended toimpress the sharpshooters with the belief that he had perfected anarrangement by which he was able to reach the endangered point.

  As he anticipated, this diversion drew several shots, which whistledabout his head with a vigor that gave him a vivid idea of thevigilance of the besieging Wyandots.

  While this counter-movement was in progress, Jo Stinger was carefullymaking his way along the roof on the other side. The unusual steepnessmade this difficult, and had he not grasped the peak and held on, hewould have shot along the slope to the ground, as if sliding down theside of a tree.

  Inch by inch he progressed, expecting every minute that a bullet wouldbe fired at him. He kept the saturated blanket well rolled togetherand in front, so that it served the purpose of a shield against anyshot from the cabin, where the sharpshooters seemed to have gatheredfor 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 anexperience altogether novel and unexpected.

  Inasmuch as the burning arrows had done such good service, one of theWyandots on the edge of the woods launched another, which went high inthe air and, curving gracefully over, plunged downward toward theroof.

  Jo had no knowledge of its
approach, until he heard the whizzing rushof 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 crawlingover the roof with a dozen blazing arrers, and if Jo Stinger knowshisself, he don't mean to play walkin' lantern for the Wyandotvarmints."

  He had attained the position he was seeking, and a most delicate pieceof work was before him, but he was equal to it.

  The Indians, who were gathered in the cabin, and collected atdifferent points in the woods and along the stockade, watching theflame with no little exultation, saw it creeping downward andspreading with a rapidity which boded ill for the garrison huddledbeneath.

  The fine, silver-like snowflakes glistened in the fire-light, andfloated shudderingly down the roof, without affecting the blaze; butat the moment when scores of eyes were gleaming like those of so manywild beasts, a dark shadow suddenly disclosed itself--what seemed animmense black hand spread out and closed over the dangerous fire,which was instantly extinguished.