“Why did you shut the gate?  Open it again,” said Glenn.

“Ain’t we besieged again? ain’t the Indians all around us, ready to rush in and take our scalps?” said Joe, obeying the command reluctantly.

“They will not trouble us before night,” said Roughgrove.

“No, we need not fear them before night,” remarked Boone, whose continued thoughtful aspect impressed Glenn with the belief that he apprehended more than the usual horrors of Indian warfare during the impending attack.

“They will burn father’s house, but that is nothing compared to what I fear will be his own fate!” murmured Mary, dejectedly.

“We can soon build him another,” said Glenn, moved by the evident distress of the pale girl; “and I am very sure that my little stone castle will suffice to preserve not only your father and yourself, but all who take shelter in it, from personal injury.  So, cheer up, Mary.”

“Oh, I will not complain; it pained me most when I first heard they were coming once more; I will soon be calm again, and just as composed when they are shooting at us, as I was the other time.  But you will be in a great deal more danger than you were that night.  Yet Boone is with us again—­he must save us,” said Mary.

“Why do you think there will be more danger, Mary?” asked Glenn.

“Yes, why do you think so?” interposed Joe, much interested in the reply.

“Because the snow is so deep and so firm, they will leap over the palisade, if there be a great many of them,” replied Mary.  Glenn felt a chill shoot through his breast, for this fact had not before occurred to him.

“Oh, goodness!—­let us all go to work and shovel it away on the outside,” cried Joe, running about in quest of the spades.  “Oh, St. Peter!” he continued, “the spades are out at the cave-spring!”

“Run and bring them,” said Glenn.

“Never—­not for the world!  They’d take my scalp to a certainty before I could get back again,” replied Joe, trembling all over.

“There is no danger yet,” said Roughgrove, the deep snow having occurred to him at the first announcement of the threatened attack, and produced many painful fears in his breast, which caused a sadness to rest upon his time-worn features; “but,” he continued, “it would not be in our power to remove the snow in two whole days, and a few hours only are left us to prepare for the worst.”

“Let them come within the inclosure,” said Glenn, “and even then they cannot harm us.  The walls of my house are made of stone, and so is the ceiling; they can only burn the roof—­I do not think they can harm our persons.  We have food enough to last for months, and there is no likelihood of the siege lasting a single week.”

“I’ll make sure of the deer,” muttered Joe; and before any one could interpose, he struck off the head of the doe with an axe, as it still lay bound upon the sled.  And he was brandishing the reeking steel over the neck of the fawn, that stood by, looking on innocently, when a cry from Mary arrested the blow.