It had been agreed that all within the stockade, save the women, should take their places on the platform as watchers, while Masters Bartlett and Morley kept an eye out to make certain no one was shirking his duty, and at this point in the gloomy conversation I bethought myself it was time to take station, therefore climbed up just over the small gate, with Daniel Hinchman a dozen paces to my left, and Giles March about the same distance on my right. I saw Master Bartlett walking across the enclosure, as if to begin his rounds, while Stephen Morley was on the eastern side talking with some of those on duty there. “Have you and Master Bartlett settled what is to be done?” Giles March asked, in a low tone, as he stepped nearer to me, both of us crouching where we could gaze out through the apertures between the logs, rather than expose ourselves uselessly as targets. Knowing that there was little danger of disheartening a lad like Giles by giving words to gloomy forebodings, I repeated to him that which the old man had said, and, greatly to my surprise, he replied: “I believe he is in the right of it, Jonathan Ogden. It isn’t reasonable to suppose we could stand off very long such a force as John Butler has brought into the valley, even though we had ammunition in plenty, which is far from being the case. Sooner or later, unless help comes to us from the army, we must be whipped.” “Why?” I asked, hotly. “Because John Butler has brought here an army to take possession of the valley, and has with him white men enough to keep the savages at their work, however little stomach they may have for it. Therefore do I say again that, before this business is ended, I am looking to see the settlements in Wyoming wiped out. But they shall pay a goodly price for victory, Jonathan, even in the capture of this--” He ceased speaking suddenly to raise his head above the tops of the logs, with his musket ready for instant use, and, following his example, I saw far away, even amid the gloom, a certain movement of the foliage which told that some heavy body was trying to force a passage through the bushes. “If that fellow will keep on a minute longer, so that I may get a fair idea of where his carcass is, I’ll guarantee he comes no nearer,” Giles said, grimly, and then it was that there came into my mind once more the thought of Elias Shendle. Laying my hand on his shoulder to prevent him from firing, I whispered: “Make certain, Giles, who you shoot at, for it isn’t impossible that Elias may have returned.” “Even if such was the case, he couldn’t have made his way up past Wintermoot’s while there are so many of the enemy hereabout,” the lad replied, but at the same time he lowered his weapon.