The Refugees eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 452 pages of information about The Refugees.

“I saw that he was hit.”

“We had best have all ready to retire to the house if they carry the stockade.  We can scarce hope to hold it when they are twenty to one.”

“All is ready.”

“And with our cannon we can keep their canoes from passing, so we might send our women away to-night.”

“I had intended to do so.  Will you take charge of the north side?  You might come across to me with ten of your men now, and I shall go back to you if they change their attack.”

The firing came in one continuous rattle now from the edges of the wood, and the air was full of bullets.  The assailants were all trained shots, men who lived by their guns, and to whom a shaking hand or a dim eye meant poverty and hunger.  Every slit and crack and loop-hole was marked, and a cap held above the stockade was blown in an instant from the gun barrel which supported it.  On the other hand, the defenders were also skilled in Indian fighting, and wise in every trick and lure which could protect themselves or tempt their enemies to show.  They kept well to the sides of the loop-holes, watching through little crevices of the wood, and firing swiftly when a chance offered.  A red leg sticking straight up into the air from behind a log showed where one bullet at least had gone home, but there was little to aim at save a puff and flash from among the leaves, or the shadowy figure of a warrior seen for an instant as he darted from one tree-trunk to the other.  Seven of the Canadians had already been hit, but only three were mortally wounded, and the other four still kept manfully to their loop-holes, though one who had been struck through the jaw was spitting his teeth with his bullets down into his gun-barrel.  The women sat in a line upon the ground, beneath the level of the loop-holes, each with a saucerful of bullets and a canister of powder, passing up the loaded guns to the fighting men at the points where a quick fire was most needful.

At first the attack had been all upon the south face, but as fresh bodies of the Iroquois came up their line spread and lengthened until the whole east face was girt with fire, which gradually enveloped the north also.  The fort was ringed in by a great loop of smoke, save only where the broad river flowed past them.  Over near the further bank the canoes were lurking, and one, manned by ten warriors, attempted to pass up the stream, but a good shot from the brass gun dashed in her side and sank her, while a second of grape left only four of the swimmers whose high scalp-locks stood out above the water like the back-fins of some strange fish.  On the inland side, however, the seigneur had ordered the cannon to be served no more, for the broad embrasures drew the enemy’s fire, and of the men who had been struck half were among those who worked the guns.

The old nobleman strutted about with his white ruffles and his clouded cane behind the line of parched smoke-grimed men, tapping his snuff-box, shooting out his little jests, and looking very much less concerned than he had done over his piquet.

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The Refugees from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.