But the end was not yet. Even in their extremity Ray and some of his old hands had noted how nervously the warriors seemed to be watching the slopes to the northeast. There was a long, low wave of prairie that closed the view in that direction to all on the ground floor, and it was madness to go sight-seeing to the loft. If they could only hold out ten, fifteen minutes it might mean life to all, save the two or three already slain. "Grab those buckets, you, and you, and you!" shouted Ray, picking out his men. "Stick to the east front, Scott! Stand 'em off just three minutes! Dip a dozen blankets in the tub--at least you can do _that_, damn you!" This to a cowering wretch whom even the sight of the women, weeping yet working like heroes, had not yet shamed. The fire had been safely, scientifically started in half-a-dozen places under the porch, and already, probably, was eating its way through every crevice. Water could not reach it, but wet blankets, spread above, would hold it for a while, and others stuffed in the open spaces at the foundation wall would choke it below. Ripped from the floor came plank after plank, and down into the smoke dived both women and men, dripping blankets in tow, while, with revolver in one hand and filled bucket in the other, Ray mustered a squad at the east door ready for their desperate rush. "Through the thick black breath" that billowed up from below the young leader's voice reached every ear, and even children seemed to still their cries and listen. "Now, blaze away as we rush out. Aim over us as we spread these things. We'll drench 'em well before we come in. _Now_, men, come on!"