During all this time I kept a sharp and anxious look-out, but there was no sign of any fresh invasion; and as it now began to rain heavily, I drew the covering over the well of the canoe, and retired to the house. CHAPTER XXV. I SET OUT UPON MY VOYAGE. The night dragged on wearily and miserably. Inside the house a chill discomfort reigned, for I had lit no fire this evening, and every article that I possessed, even to the sleeping mats, had been stowed in the canoe. The rain thundered upon the flimsy roof and oozed through in places with unpleasant tricklings, while from outside came the continuous hissing roar of the deluge as though some giant locomotive were blowing off steam. At long intervals there was a lull, and then I ran out to see that the canoe was not washed away, and that no enemies were approaching my stronghold. So the night wore on, full of unrest, anxiety and bodily discomfort. Each time that I visited the canoe I found the water farther up the slipway, and each time that I went to the bank to look out across the river, the murmur of the rushing water seemed louder. About an hour before dawn (as I judged by observing a group of stars through a rift in the clouds) there came a more decided lull in the downpour, and a few patches of starlit sky appeared overhead. I had been sitting on my bedstead dozing, but the sudden quiet aroused me, and I went forth once more to see that all was secure. The air was brilliantly clear, and although there was no moon, I could distinctly see the dark shapes of the trees on the opposite bank. And as I looked, I could see something else; in the dark space under the bank was a spot of blacker darkness which began to slowly move out into the stream, growing smaller as it did so. It was soon followed by another, and yet another, until there was a line of black spots on the dim surface of the river, like a row of corks above a drift-net. A night attack was being made, then, despite the unfavourable weather. I waited until the leader had reached mid-stream, when I could make out his head and shoulders just emerging from the water, and his arms held up, grasping either a musket or a spear; then I turned and softly ran to the canoe. As I passed along the rear of the island, I was startled at observing a party of men approaching from that side of the river also. The water, I knew, was now too deep there for them to get across, but this second party suggested yet others and made me anxious to be gone. Excepting my spear, which was in my hand, all my goods were on board, so when I reached the canoe, I silently pushed back the cover, climbed into the well, and unfastened the mooring line from the cleat.