Hurriedly I asked myself what it might be possible for them to do, and began to realize that, unless the earth contained as many rocks as would serve to form a roof sufficiently strong to uphold the soil, then might they without danger to themselves so loosen the whole as to bury us completely. If Master Bartlett had been able to force a sapling through the earth without meeting any obstruction, then was it likely that the same might be done in other places, and half a dozen of such holes would be sufficient to bring down the mass upon us, when the weight of a dozen or more savages was put upon it. In a twinkling I could see that we might all be killed without a shot having been fired, and the danger was one against which we could not guard and yet hold ourselves covered. Going back hurriedly to Giles March, I would have told him that which I had learned, but he checked me by saying: “I can understand it all, lad, and there is no reason for words. They are above the fireplace.” “Yes; I felt the soft earth as it fell.” “And they may work there, for all I can see, until the task is finished,” he said, and to this I made no reply, for verily none was needed. Then, while one might have counted twenty, we two remained silent, after which he whispered, drawing closer to me lest our companions might hear: “Oscar Stephenson is less sorely wounded than either of the others. He can, by resting his musket against one of the boulders, be depended on to take my place here.” “Where would you go, Giles March?” I asked, yet at the same time knowing full well what was in his mind. “Outside. In less than half an hour it will be possible to move about among the trees, because of the darkness, as well as can the Indians, and with no more danger than they will be running.” “But you are like to come upon them unawares.” “Ay, but so are they like to come upon me, and he who is least surprised will get the best of the battle.” “But what if you should be worsted?” “You who remain here would be in no greater danger, and there is a chance that I may be able to put an end to that work above the fireplace.” “You shall go, Giles March,” I said after a moment’s thought. “I believe you are warranted in doing so, for before morning, unless they are turned from the effort, will we be buried alive.” “Then you are to stay here on guard with Oscar,” he whispered, groping about for his powder-horn, and I replied in a tone of one who is not disposed to argue the matter: “You and I go together, Giles March. Mistress Morley can do as good work here as either of us, and she, with Oscar, will be able to defend the entrance.” He would have remonstrated, despite my manner of speaking, but that I cut him short by saying: