The dull reports of two rifle-shots recalled him. As he closed down the trap-door, he heard Schwartzkopf guffaw. Springing up the stairs he rushed to the window, where the Serbs were now firing steadily, seized his rifle, and looked down the track. A small party of the enemy had broken cover, and were rushing uphill in irregular formation. Several had already fallen; one dropped to Burton’s first shot; but the rest gained the cover of the stunted bushes before mentioned. "How many have got through?" asked Burton. "About half-a-dozen," Marco replied. "They haven’t answered your fire?" He had hardly spoken when a hail of bullets pattered on the stone walls. Some had come from the advanced party in the bushes, some from their comrades concealed farther down the track. One flew through the window, and struck the wall a few feet above Enderby’s head. The three men drew back. "It is clear they have discovered where we are firing from," said Burton. "We had better give them the next shots from the roof. There are loopholes in the parapet." They climbed up the ladder, and, kneeling behind the parapet, peered through the loopholes. For some minutes the enemy continued to fire at the window without exposing themselves. Presently, under cover of their shots, a second party, larger than the first, emerged from the rocks far down the track, and ran up to join their fellows hidden among the bushes. Instantly the three men opened fire; one after another the Bulgars fell, but eight or nine reached shelter in safety. The enemy’s fire redoubled in violence; apparently they supposed that the defenders were shooting both from the window and from the roof, for Enderby called up that bullets were flying into the room, and at the same time splinters of stone were struck from the parapet. Suddenly the firing ceased. Burton, looking through his glasses, saw reinforcements hurrying up along the track far below. Clearly the attack was to be pressed, and the worst was yet to come. So far he was well satisfied. The enemy had been held up for more than an hour; every minute gained might be of priceless service to the British forces. Every now and again the dull boom of artillery from the south told him that his comrades were still fighting a rearguard action against heavy odds. To prevent the enlargement of those odds was worth any sacrifice.