Historical fiction; King Philip's War, 1675-1676 -- Fiction; War stories
This conjecture appeared to satisfy the other, though it is probable that
a sight of a fresh store of bodily aliment, which was soon after exposed
in order to gain access to the roof, might have led to some further
inferences, had more time been given to conjectures. But at this moment a
new wail proceeded from the maidens who plied the buckets beneath.
"To the loops! to the loops, or we are lost!" was a summons that admitted
of no delay. Led by the stranger, the young men rushed below, where, in
truth, they found a serious demand on all their activity and courage.
The Indians were wanting in none of the sagacity which so remarkably
distinguishes the warfare of this cunning race. The time spent by the
family, in arresting the flames, had not been thrown away by the
assailants. Profiting by the attention of those within, to efforts that
were literally of the last importance, they had found means to convey
burning brands to the door of the block, against which they had piled a
mass of blazing combustibles, that threatened shortly to open the way into
the basement of the citadel itself. In order to mask this design, and to
protect their approaches, the savages had succeeded in dragging bundles of
straw and other similar materials to the foot of the work, to which the
fire soon communicated, and which consequently served both to increase the
actual danger of the building and to distract the attention of those by
whom it was defended. Although the water that fell from the roof served
to retard the progress of these flames, it contributed to produce the
effect of all others that was most desired by the savages. The dense
volumes of smoke that arose from the half-smothered fire, first apprised
the females of the new danger which assailed them. When Content and the
stranger reached the principal floor of their citadel, it required some
little time, and no small degree of coolness, to comprehend the situation
in which they were now placed. The vapor that rolled upward from the wet
straw and hay had already penetrated into the apartment, and it was with
no slight difficulty that they who occupied it were enabled to distinguish
objects, or even to breathe.
"Here is matter to exercise our utmost fortitude," said the stranger to
his constant companion. "We must look to this new device, or we come to
the fate of death by fire. Summon the stoutest-hearted of thy youths, and
I will lead them to a sortie, ere the evil get past a remedy."
"That were certain victory to the heathen. Thou hearest, by their yells,
that 'tis no small band of scouters who beleaguer us; a tribe hath sent
forth its chosen warriors to do their wickedness. Better is it that we
bestir ourselves to drive them from our door, and to prevent the further
annoyance of this cloud, since, to issue from the block, at this moment,
would be to offer our heads to the tomahawk; and to ask mercy is as vain
as to hope to move the rock with tears."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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