It was when the old man heard we had such a small stock of food that his face took on a graver expression than while he was telling of the overwhelming force likely to come against us, and until the sun was near to setting did we discuss the chances of replenishing our scanty larder, but without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion. That night each of us had for supper a piece of corn bread as large, perhaps, as half your hand, and so dry that it was like unto hardened clay. While I was absent Giles had divided the force into three parties, allowing each in turn to go off duty for two hours, that all might thus have opportunity for sleep. It seemed to me best that such routine should be continued. Master Bartlett, as if having forgotten what he had advised in regard to attempting the rescue of Esther Hinchman, proposed that both Giles and I lie down to rest, leaving him in charge of the fort, and this we did, for slumber weighed so heavily upon our eyelids that it was with difficulty I could keep mine from closing even while I made the rounds of the stockade. During three hours or more we slept as only tired lads can, and when I came out from the blockhouse it was near to ten o’clock; but Master Bartlett had nothing of importance to report. The enemy remained quite as vigilant as before, shooting with poor aim whenever one of the lads incautiously showed himself above the stockade, and nothing had been seen to betoken any change of plan on their part; therefore it was that I did no more than make the rounds from one sentinel to another, without giving any attention to the surrounding forest. An hour later Giles joined me, he having gained just so much the more sleep, and Master Bartlett took his turn at lying down. We two lads stood near the door of the blockhouse while I explained to Giles that the enemy had been wasting less ammunition than usual, as it seemed to me, when suddenly a rattle of musketry was heard from the eastern side, near the water, and our lads who were at that portion of the stockade failed to return it. As a matter of course, Giles and I ran quickly toward what seemed to be the danger-point, and, clambering up on the narrow platform, I demanded of the lad nearest me why he had not discharged his musket. “I have seen no target as yet,” he replied. “The shots were fired from such a distance that even the flashes of the guns have been hidden by the foliage.” Looking to the priming of my musket, I strained my eyes in vain for some sign of the enemy, but yet the reports continued to ring out in rapid succession, and I wondered why I failed to hear the whistling of the bullets. Two or three of those who were off duty came running up in the belief that they might be needed, and it was only natural that all the other sentinels should have turned in that direction from which it seemed probable an attack would be made.