But there was another reason for the calm, the serious silence which the Virginian had preserved. Independently of the aching interest he took in all that he supposed to be passing at that moment in the mind of his absent wife, he had been deeply galled by the last insulting remark of Captain Headley, to which he had, it is true, replied in a similar spirit, yet which nevertheless had continued to give him much annoyance. His duty as bearer of the colors being rather passive than active, he had not found it necessary to open his lips, except to utter a few words of encouragement and approval to the men. Formed in hollow square, as the little force now was, there was no opportunity for display of individual or personal prowess, or he certainly would have sought an opportunity to test with his commanding officer the extent of their respective daring. But now an occasion at last presented itself, and in a manner least expected. CHAPTER XXIII. From the position now occupied by the devoted little band, a view of the whole adjacent country was distinctly commanded, even to the very gates of the fort, from which they had never advanced more than half a mile on their retreat, and within a mile of which their movements had again brought them. On looking anxiously around to see from what direction the most imminent danger would proceed, Captain Headley remarked a largo body of Indians issuing from the gateway, and moving slowly from the fort towards them. "Give me the glass, Mr. Elmsley," he said to that officer, who had it slung over his shoulder, "let me see if I can make out what they intend. Ha! by heaven they are moving one of the field pieces towards us. Could they but manage a few rounds of that, they would soon make short work of the affair, but the simpletons seem to have overlooked the fact of the gun being spiked--even if they knew how to aim it." "If it is the gun that was in the block-house, it is not spiked, sir," remarked Sergeant Nixon. "Not spiked! how is that?" asked the captain quickly--almost angrily. "The spikes were too large, sir; and Weston, whose duty it was, broke a ramrod off instead." "Ha! is it so? What a thought strikes me! Could we get hold of that gun, we might yet make terms with those devils. Who will lead a forlorn hope and volunteer to take it?" "I will," thundered Ronayne, with sudden vivacity, his eye flashing fiercely as he met the glance of his commanding officer. "Spare me three men from each face of the square, and I will bring it to you or die in the attempt." The captain colored and looked annoyed with himself. "One moment, Mr. Ronayne. Have we the means of removing the broken ramrod if we should get the gun? Where is the armorer?" "I have them, sir," returned the man. "I thought a drill and a hammer would be useful on the march, and so I put them in my pack." "Pish! there is another difficulty. Your pack is as difficult to reach as the gun. It is in the wagon, is it not?"