Indians of North America -- Juvenile fiction; Pioneers -- West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction; Slavery -- Juvenile fiction
"No, no, Peter," I said; "the men are not likely to show themselves, and
the other is sure to fire the instant he sees the window open."
The shot had aroused my father and mother and the rest of the household,
and we heard my father and Uncle Denis calling to each other. Peter
having struck a light, we went into the hall, where we all soon
assembled, with the exception of my mother and Kathleen, when I narrated
what had occurred.
"The fellows are bent on mischief, there can be no doubt about that,"
said my father. "They are probably not aware how many there are of us
in the house, and expect to force their way in without much opposition."
Uncle Denis proposed rushing out and getting hold of the fellows who had
fired, supposing that they were waiting for others to come up before
attacking the house. My father, however, advised that we should remain
within doors.
"If we go out the fellows will see us, and may pick us off with ease,
while, on the other hand, they cannot approach without showing
themselves, and we shall be perfectly justified in shooting them down
should they come with hostile intent."
My father's first care was to place my mother and Kathleen in safety,
and to insist on their going into a store-closet, to which no bullets
could penetrate should any pierce the shutters. Black Rose begged leave
to accompany them, but Biddy indignantly refused to hide herself,
declaring that she only wished "the spalpeens" would show their ugly
faces at the door, and she would put some marks on them which they would
carry to their graves. Having thus expressed herself, she hastened into
the kitchen, where she lighted the fire, blowing away with all her might
to get the poker into a red heat.
My father's first care was to set one of us to watch at the window of
each room, to give the alarm should any attempt be made to force them,
while he himself stood at the front entrance. Peter was posted at the
rear of the house. Loop-holes had been formed in the shutters through
which we could look and see what was taking place outside. They had
slides so that they could be closed in an instant. As no lamps were
left burning in any of the rooms, those outside could not distinguish
the small openings, while the moon, though waning, afforded light
sufficient to enable us to see anyone moving about round the house.
Our preparations for defence were made in a shorter time than I have
taken to describe them. I was looking through the loophole in my
window-shutter in the front of the house when I saw a person stealing
cautiously forward along the road which led to it. I could make out
that he had a rifle in his hand, which he was holding ready for action.
Presently half-a-dozen more men came in sight, when their leader stopped
until they got up with him. I instantly called out to my father that
the enemy were close upon us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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