“Every man to his post!” exclaimed Boone, as a shower of arrows rattled about the premises. Sneak now occupied Joe’s station, and the first glance in the direction of the savages sufficed to determine him how to act. Perhaps no one ever discharged a rifle more rapidly than he did. And a brisk and well-directed fire was kept up for some length of time, likewise, by the rest of the besieged. It was, perhaps, a fortunate thing that Joe _did_ fire without orders, and without any intention of doing so himself. It seemed that the savages had been meditating a desperate rush upon the fort, notwithstanding Boone’s prediction; for no sooner did Joe fire, than they hastily retreated a short distance, scattering in every direction, and, without a moment’s consultation, again appeared, advancing rapidly from every quarter. It was evident that this plan had been preconcerted among them; and had all fired, instead of Joe only, they might easily have scaled the palisade before the guns could have been reloaded. Neither had the besiegers been aware of the strength of the garrison. But they were soon made to understand that they had more than Glenn and his man to contend against. The discharges followed in such quick succession that they paused, when but a moment more would have placed them within the inclosure. But several of them being wounded, and Boone and Glenn still doing execution with their pistols, the discomfited enemy made a precipitate retreat. An occasional flight of arrows continued to assail the besieged, but they came from a great distance, for the Indians were not long in scampering beyond the range of the loopholes. When Glenn could no longer see any of the dark forms of the enemy, he turned round to contemplate the sad condition of Joe. Joe was sitting up, with his hands locked round his knees. “Well, split me in two!” cried Sneak, staring at his companion. “What’s the matter, Sneak?” asked Joe, with much simplicity. “That’s a purty question for _you_ to ask, after there for dead this half-hour almost” “Have the Indians been here?” asked Joe, staring round wildly. “Hain’t you heard us shooting?” “My goodness,” cried Joe, springing up. “Oh! am I wounded? say!” he continued, evincing the most lively alarm. “Well, if this don’t beat every thing that ever I saw in all my life, I wish I may be shot!” said Sneak. “What is it?” asked Joe, his senses yet wandering. “Jest feel the back of your head,” said Sneak. Joe put his hand to the place indicated, and winced under the pain of the touch. He then looked at his hand, and beholding a quantity of clotted blood upon it, fell down suddenly on the snow. “What’s the matter now?” asked Glenn, who had seen his man sitting up, and came swiftly to him when he fell. “I’m a dead man!” said Joe, mournfully. “That’s a lie!” said Sneak. “What ails you, Joe?” asked Glenn, his tone much softened. “I’m dying—oh! I’m shot through the head!”