Defending the Island: A story of Bar Harbor in 1758Otis, James
History
Defending the Island: A story of Bar Harbor in 1758
Otis, James
Mount Desert Island (Me.) -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Juvenile fiction
The two women were standing on a table, where they could reach the
weapons when they were empty. In one corner of the room, seated on a
bed which was laid on the floor behind the barricade of the door,
were the other children, some crying for water, and others weeping
with fear.
The powder smoke hung heavily in the small apartment, which was
illumined by the glow of the flames, now not more than thirty feet
distant, and the heat was almost overpowering.
The bucket in which Mark had brought the muddy water from the
spring, was empty, and the throats of the three children in the loft
were literally parched with a thirst that could not be allayed.
They were beset by danger on every hand, and the supreme moment
seemed very near, for once the gate was demolished, however
desperately they might fight, the end was come.
"We are not to leave here alive," Susan whispered softly in Mark's
ear, and he replied, pressing her hand:
"That part of it sha'n't be forgotten, Sue dear."
A cry from Luke; the crashing and splintering of wood; a shock which
could be felt by the refugees as the heavy timbers fell inward, and
the passage was open to the foe.
"Take good aim!" Mark shouted. "Shoot at the foremost, and work
quickly!"
While one might have counted ten the enemy hung back as if fearing
that a party of women and children might have planned an ambush, and
then with a yell of triumph, the opening in the palisade was filled
with armed men.
The defenders in the loft fired at almost the same instant; then,
delaying only sufficiently long to fling back the empty weapons and
take up those that were loaded, three more reports rang out.
The Frenchmen halted irresolutely for an instant, as four of their
number fell to the ground, and had the children been able to fire
one more volley immediately, it is quite certain the entire party
would have beaten a retreat even at the moment of victory.
As the men, recovering courage, dashed forward, a heavy peal of
thunder seemed to shake the very earth, and on the moment rain fell
in torrents, coming as suddenly and in such volume as if having been
poured from some immense reservoir.
The enemy recoiled as if confronted by an overwhelming force, and as
they wavered the children in the loft discharged three muskets, each
bullet seemingly taking effect.
Then, suddenly, it was as if a black mantel had been dropped over
the terrible scene. A certain portion of the enormous downpour of
water was converted into clouds of steam by the flames, which were
literally beaten down, and those who had struggled so bravely to
defend the island could distinguish nothing.
[Illustration: Again the crash of thunder drowned all sounds.]
"What is the matter?" Ellen cried in alarm at thus being suddenly
plunged into profound darkness, and the younger children screamed
with terror.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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