Defending the Island: A story of Bar Harbor in 1758

by James Otis

  CHAPTER V.

  FIRE

  Mark was disposed to make light of that which distressed Susan, andthus did he make his first mistake in the defence.

  To his mind there was nothing very serious in the loss of the waterwhich had been carried into the dwelling, because the spring waswithin the stockade, and however much mischief the sheep had done,it would be the work of but few moments to put everything in properorder once more.

  The chief thought in his mind was regarding the possible troublewhich the Abenakis might make while hidden in the thicket back ofthe palisade, and, after this, the fear that the ablest of hisassistants might become disabled because of her wound, which had notreceived the attention such an injury required.

  Therefore it was he said to Susan speaking almost sharply to the endthat she might feel forced to obey without argument:

  "The first thing for you to look after is that wound. Have yourmother dress it once more while you can be spared from thepalisade." Then, seeing that she hesitated, he added, "It isnecessary for the safety of all that you look after yourself,because if you were disabled, we would be in most serious plight,you being the best marksman among us."

  Susan hesitated no longer; but went toward the house, even thoughshe did not believe it necessary to give very much attention to herarm, which was not so badly injured but that she could use it withcomparative ease.

  When she had disappeared within the dwelling, Mark, watching throughthe loophole for a target, cried to his brother:

  "How is everything over your way, Luke?"

  "There has been no change. The Frenchmen are sticking close to theirvessel."

  "I reckon it would be safe for you to come here a few minutes. I'llsend Mary to take your place."

  The lad obeyed promptly, and, after cautioning him not to exposehimself to the aim of the enemy, although it was essential he keepclose lookout over the thicket, Mark went toward the spring.

  The damage done by the sheep was greater than he had supposed. Theearth in the immediate vicinity had been ploughed up by the feet ofthe animals until the spring was nearly choked, and Mark realizedthat a full hour's work would be required to repair the mischief.

  "We can't spend much time at it while the Abenakis are in thewoods," he said to himself. "Later in the might, perhaps, I shallhave a chance to do the job."

  Then he went to where Mary was taking Luke's place as sentinel nearthe gate, instructing her to raise an alarm immediately she saw anymovement on the part of the Frenchmen.

  "Keep your eyes open wide," he said, "and, while watching theschooner, give some attention to what may be going on close at hand.I don't believe the Indians will come out of the thicket to showthemselves where no shelter can be found. But, at the same time, itis possible. Remember that all our lives might pay the forfeit ofyour carelessness."

  "You can trust me as you do Susan, although I can't shoot so well;but my eyes are as good as hers."

  "True for you, sister mine, and between now and morning I'm countingon your doing a full share of standing guard."

  Then Mark ascended the platform for one look at the vessel, whichremained at her moorings with but few men showing on deck, afterwhich he went into the dwelling, where his mother was preparingsupper.

  Susan's arm was being rebandaged, after having been bound up withsimples which had been gathered in the woods against just such anemergency, and the smaller children were huddled in one corner likefrightened sheep.

  "I have left Luke in my place," the lad said, in reply to hismother's question. "The Abenakis are taking good care to keep out ofsight, and it is only a waste of ammunition to fire at a waving bushor curl of smoke. I'll get something to eat, now that I'm here, andthen go on duty again."

  Susan declared she would stand watch near the gate, in order thatMary might take care of the children, and to that end ate supperwith Mark, after which the two went out to their weary, dangerousvigil once more, with the disheartening knowledge that there was noprobability of receiving aid from any quarter.

  Susan's arm was being rebandaged.]

  "We won't talk about it, Sue," Mark said, when his cousin bewailedthe fact that even though a fishing-vessel should pass near at hand,her crew would not come ashore when it was seen that the _FutureHopes_ had left her anchorage. "We can't afford to look on the darkside of affairs, lest we grow faint-hearted, for you know that, onceour courage is gone, we are the same as beaten."

  Susan did not reply, as she might have done with truth, that theywere then very nearly in that deplorable condition; but shut herteeth tightly as if to prevent the escape of a single word, whileshe walked rapidly toward the gate to take her station as sentinel.

  Mary begged to stand guard an hour or two longer; but Susan insistedthat she was needed in the house, and reluctantly the girl descendedfrom the platform.

  Then Mark relieved Luke from duty, instructing him to first get hissupper, and then, if the Indians remained inactive, to set aboutcleaning out the spring.

  By this time the night had fully come, and Mark noted withapprehension that clouds were gathering in the sky. While the moonshone brightly it was as easy to guard against surprise as atnoonday; but once that light was obscured, the enemy might creep upat a dozen places on the palisade without being detected.

  "Two hours of blackness, and we are done for," Mark said to himself,with a sigh, and then, remembering what he had told Susan, he added,"We've got to take whatever comes, and the only manly way is to makethe best of it. In case it is very dark to-night, Mary and Ellenmust both stand watch with the rest of us."

  The report of a musket interrupted his train of gloomy thoughts, andinvoluntarily he ducked his head when a bullet came singing over thefence so near that he felt the "wind" of it.

  "You can't tempt me to shoot till I see something to fire at," hesaid, grimly, watching through the loophole at the underbrush whichwas merged by the shadows into one single mass of gloom, amid whichnot even a movement among the branches could be distinguished.

  Two more shots, which caused him to wonder why the Abenakis weregrowing so active, and then he caught a glimpse of a faint spark inthe thicket, which at first sight appeared to him like the glow froman Indian's pipe.

  He had raised his musket, intending to fire at the bright spot, whenit suddenly increased in size, and, while he stood speculating as towhat it could be, a long tongue of flame leaped upward from branchto branch.

  No need for speculation now, nor was it well that he stand very muchlonger on guard, for the terrible truth was all to plain.

  The Abenakis had fired the woods, counting on burning the palisade,and thus giving them free entrance for the bloody business uponwhich they had come.

  His first thought was to run for water, and then, even before hecould make a movement toward the spring, came the realization thatit was impossible to effect anything by such a course.

  He would not be able to throw water upon the fire in the thicket,even though he exposed himself to full view over the top of thepalisade, and this was probably exactly what the Indians hoped hemight do.

  "It begins to look as if we had about come to an end of the defence,and that nothing remains but to sell our lives as dearly aspossible," he said, gloomily, to himself. "Everything around here isas dry as it well can be, and once the fire gains headway, even thehouses must go."

  Mark descended doggedly from the platform, and as he did so Susancried, from her post of duty near the gate:

  "What is on fire?"

  "The Abenakis have started a blaze in the woods."

  "Will the fence burn, think you?"

  "Ay, when the fire is well under way."

  "Can't we do anything toward putting out the blaze?"

  "Nothing, unless we want the Indians to shoot us down before we canfire a shot."

  "Then what is to be done?" and in her distress Susan leaped downfrom the platform to approach her cousin.

  "Better stay where you are!" the lad cried, warningly. "I don'tsuppose it
will make any great difference to us, and yet we shouldknow if the Frenchmen come ashore after seeing the fire."

  The girl returned immediately to her station, and even though he wasat a considerable distance from her, Mark could hear the choking sobwhich escaped her lips.

  "Keep up a stout heart, Sue; we can make a last stand inside thehouse."

  "Ay, Mark; but it will be the last!"

  The lad made no reply; he stood at some distance from the palisadeas if trying to decide upon a course of action, and while he thusremained irresolute his mother came from the house.

  There was no need that she ask for information; the blaze was sobright by this time that it must have been seen by those on thevessel, and Mistress Pemberton inquired in a low tone, but with notremor in her voice:

  "Are the logs dry?"

  "Ay, mother; but it will be some time before the flames can eat invery deeply. We've got fifteen or twenty minutes yet."

  "What is to be done?"

  "We'll take refuge in the house, and shoot down as many as possiblebefore the fire drives us out."

  "If there is nothing more before us, why not come inside now? TheIndians can climb up on the posts on either side and shoot you downwhile you stand here in the light."

  "The Frenchmen are coming ashore!" Susan cried. "One boat-load haspushed off already!"

  "We are going into the house," Mark said, hesitatingly, as if, evennow, when prudence demanded that they should seek shelter as soon aspossible, he was questioning whether he might effect something byremaining in the open.

  "But if we don't stand guard the Indians will soon be over thefence," the girl cried, nervously.

  "Ay, and if you stand there in the glow of the fire they can creepup under cover of the shadows to one side or the other, and shootyou down. We've done all we can here, Sue, and the remainder of ourfight must be made from the house."

  The report of a musket from the southern side of the stockade, andthe humming of a bullet close beside Susan's head, gave emphasis tothe lad's words, causing the sentinel to obey without further parley.

  Once inside the dwelling, with the door strongly barred, the oldermembers of the little party strove to appear unconcerned, eachhoping to cheer the other, and at no time since the island wasbesieged did they display more courage than now, when there seemedno ray of hope remaining.

  Through the crevices of the logs and the window-shutters could beseen the glow of the flames, which were increasing each instant,fanned as they were by short, furious gusts of wind which came fromthe gathering clouds.

  "We must get under the roof, where I made the loopholes," Mark saidto Susan and Luke. "There's no question but that the Indians willmake a try at coming over the stockade before the fire has destroyedit, else they have changed their natures completely, and we won'tgive them full swing, even though we are cooped up here like rats ina trap."

  "The boys want water," Ellen, who had been attending to the youngerchildren, said, at this moment, and the elders of the party lookedat each other in dismay.

  The new danger which confronted them had driven, for the time being,everything else from their minds; but now all realized that, eventhough they might not be permitted to remain long in that frailrefuge, they would suffer severely from thirst before the end came.

  "Get into the loft, one on each side, and shoot with good aim if yousee a painted face over the fence!" Mark cried, as he took up one ofthe buckets and went swiftly toward the door.

  "You must not go out!" his mother said, as she barred the way. "Itis certain by this time that the Abenakis are where they can have aview of the enclosure, and you will be shot down. Better that thechildren should suffer from thirst."

  "We will all soon be needing something to drink, for it's bound tobe hot inside here when the palisade catches fire. One bucketful ofwater will save us a good deal of suffering, and I'm bound to takethe chances."

  Then, before his mother could prevent him, Mark opened the door,running at full speed to the spring, which was not more than twentyfeet distant.

  That the Abenakis were on the alert could be told when half a dozenshots were fired in rapid succession; but, fortunately for thedefenders of the island, not a bullet took effect, owing to Mark'srapid movements.

  To those who were watching him in agonizing suspense from the house,it seemed as if the lad no more than wheeled about when he gainedthe spring, and then came toward the building in a zigzag course,well calculated to confuse the most skilful marksman.

  He reentered the house with a bucket two-thirds fullof muddy water.]

  He reentered the house with a bucket two-thirds full of muddy water,and, while barring the door, once more said, in a tone of triumph:

  "I reckoned it might be done if a fellow used his legs well. Thatstuff doesn't look fit to drink; but after the mud has settled a bitit will be better than nothing. I am to blame for not cleaning thespring out when I first knew that the children had wasted thesupply."

  "You have nothing with which to reproach yourself, Mark," his auntsaid as she laid her hand affectionately on his shoulder. "You havetaken the place of both your father and uncle, and there is not aman grown who could have done more, or better, work."

  The lad's face flushed with pleasure at this praise, but he affectedto give no heed to the words as he clambered into the loft, musketin hand, calling out when he was on the timbers above:

  "Give us the ammunition up here, and we'll load our own guns untilthe enemy comes too fast."

  Mistress Pemberton handed him only a portion of the powder andbullets, after which she stood on the top of a table ready to takethe empty weapons when the sharpshooters required her services.

  Mark was the first to discharge his musket, and a cry of painfollowed the report, telling that the ammunition had not been wasted.

  "What did you see?" his mother asked, anxiously.

  "An Indian's head over the top of the fence near the gate. There'sone villain the less to trouble us!"

  At this moment Susan and Luke both fired, the reports coming so neartogether as to sound like one, and the girl cried, triumphantly:

  "I've hit another! What did you do, Luke?"

  "I don't know; he went backward at the flash, like a loon; but itseems as if I must have struck him, for I had a fair aim."

  Mistress Pemberton now had work to perform, for those in the loftsoon learned that it would be impossible to recharge the weapons andat the same time keep close watch on what might be happening outside.

  Seven shots had been fired from the dwelling, three of which wereknown to have found their targets, when a heavy pounding at the gatetold of additional danger.

  "What is it?" Mistress Harding cried, and Mark replied, quietly, asif it was of no especial consequence:

  "The Frenchmen have come, and are battering down the gate."

  "How long will it take them to do it?" Susan asked, her voicequivering despite all efforts to render it steady.

  "It will be a good half-hour's job, with what timber they can pickup near at hand. If they should cut down a stout tree, the workmight be done in half that time. Keep your eyes on the top of thefence, for if one fellow gets inside he might succeed in pulling outthe bars before we could stop him."

  Twice more the children fired, and then it was as if the Abenakishad tired of a game at which they were rapidly being worsted withoutan opportunity to inflict any injury.

  "They've made up their minds to wait till the gate is down," Marksaid, grimly. "We must have all the muskets ready when the rushcomes, and shoot with good aim, for it will be our last fair chance."

  All this while the flames had been increasing in volume, and theheat inside the dwelling, filled with the smoke of burning powder asit was, seemed stifling.

  The younger children had drank of the muddy water eagerly, giving noheed to its disagreeable appearance, and the older members of thelittle company were already suffering with thirst; but never one ofthem ventured to claim a portion of the scanty supply.

>   "The fence is on fire," Mark said as he left his station at thefront of the loft to survey the scene in the rear. "The wind isgetting up in great shape, and coming from the east, otherwise thesehoused would be on fire by this time."

  "There goes the upper part of the gate!" Luke cried. "Two or threemore fair blows, and the whole will be down!"

  Mark came back to where he could overlook the scene of what hebelieved would be the final struggle, and the three childrencrouched, muskets in hand, ready to empty the six weapons before theenemy could approach the house sufficiently near to find shelterunder its walls.

  The two women were standing on a table, where they could reach theweapons when they were empty. In one corner of the room, seated on abed which was laid on the floor behind the barricade of the door,were the other children, some crying for water, and others weepingwith fear.

  The powder smoke hung heavily in the small apartment, which wasillumined by the glow of the flames, now not more than thirty feetdistant, and the heat was almost overpowering.

  The bucket in which Mark had brought the muddy water from thespring, was empty, and the throats of the three children in the loftwere literally parched with a thirst that could not be allayed.

  They were beset by danger on every hand, and the supreme momentseemed very near, for once the gate was demolished, howeverdesperately they might fight, the end was come.

  "We are not to leave here alive," Susan whispered softly in Mark'sear, and he replied, pressing her hand:

  "That part of it sha'n't be forgotten, Sue dear."

  A cry from Luke; the crashing and splintering of wood; a shock whichcould be felt by the refugees as the heavy timbers fell inward, andthe passage was open to the foe.

  "Take good aim!" Mark shouted. "Shoot at the foremost, and workquickly!"

  While one might have counted ten the enemy hung back as if fearingthat a party of women and children might have planned an ambush, andthen with a yell of triumph, the opening in the palisade was filledwith armed men.

  The defenders in the loft fired at almost the same instant; then,delaying only sufficiently long to fling back the empty weapons andtake up those that were loaded, three more reports rang out.

  The Frenchmen halted irresolutely for an instant, as four of theirnumber fell to the ground, and had the children been able to fireone more volley immediately, it is quite certain the entire partywould have beaten a retreat even at the moment of victory.

  As the men, recovering courage, dashed forward, a heavy peal ofthunder seemed to shake the very earth, and on the moment rain fellin torrents, coming as suddenly and in such volume as if having beenpoured from some immense reservoir.

  The enemy recoiled as if confronted by an overwhelming force, and asthey wavered the children in the loft discharged three muskets, eachbullet seemingly taking effect.

  Then, suddenly, it was as if a black mantel had been dropped overthe terrible scene. A certain portion of the enormous downpour ofwater was converted into clouds of steam by the flames, which wereliterally beaten down, and those who had struggled so bravely todefend the island could distinguish nothing.

  Again the crash of thunder drowned all sounds.]

  "What is the matter?" Ellen cried in alarm at thus being suddenlyplunged into profound darkness, and the younger children screamedwith terror.

  A deafening peal of thunder seemingly came in answer to the questionfollowed a second later by a vivid, blinding flash of lightningwhich illumined the interior of the loft through the few crevicesbetween the logs, until the defenders could see each other's facesgleaming ghastly pale.

  The water trickling through the roof restored them to their sensessomewhat, and Mark said, speaking as if with an effort:

  "The storm has been gathering since afternoon. Now, while we arecooped up here in the darkness, the enemy can work his will!"

  Again the crashing of thunder drowned all other sounds; once morethe jagged rifts of unearthly fire, breaking though the clouds,illumined the scene, and Susan cried, as if unable to believe herown statement:

  "The men are running away! They are running away!"

  Mark and Luke sprang to her side, waiting for another flash oflightning, and when it came, preceded by crashing thunder whichcaused the house of logs to tremble, the enclosure was deserted.

  "It's true that some of them have gone; perhaps all," Markannounced; "but the whole crew will come back when the storm isover, and there will be nothing save our muskets to prevent themfrom marching in at their pleasure."

  "Let us give thanks for the mercies which have already been bestowedupon us," Mistress Pemberton said, devoutly. "The fire isextinguished, and we need no longer fear being burned to death."

  "That might not be the worst that will befall us," Mark thought,recalling to mind the fate of those settlers of Maine who had beenput to death by torture.

  Because of the fury of the tempest, it seemed as if its force mustbe quickly spent, and the besieged waited in painful suspense,fearing that the downpour of water would speedily cease; but themoments went by amid the flashing of lightning and crashing ofthunder, without any abatement of the tempest, save as the windlulled for a few seconds to come in yet more spiteful gusts.

  When half an hour had passed, Mistress Pemberton insisted that thethree children should come down from the loft in order that theymight all be together during this respite from the cruel foe, andwhen they were in the room below, freed from the fear of immediatedeath, thanks were given to Him who "ruleth the tempest" for thisnew lease of life, brief though it might prove to be.

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE WRECK

  Hope once more sprang up in the hearts of those who had been sosorely tried, when the storm continued with greal fury. Theelectrical portion of the tempest appeared to have passed away,leaving the raging wind and pelting rain to guard the settlers whoof a verity had descended into the very valley of the shadow ofdeath.

  When it was understood that that which was at first supposed to be asummer gale had developed into a furious northeast storm, giving notoken of subsiding, Mark said as he rose to his feet:

  "When the rain first came it seemed as if my throat was parched drywith thirst, and now that water is to be had in abundance, all handsof us appear to have forgotten that we wanted a drink."

  "We might catch some of the water that is finding its way throughthe roof," Mistress Pemberton said as if such a possibility hadnever occurred to her before.

  "We can do better than that, mother dear. I'll go to the spring fora full bucket, and when it has been strained we shall have what willbe an improvement on rainwater."

  "But possibly some of the enemy may be lurking outside," MistressHarding said, becoming timorous once more, now that the imminentdanger had passed.

  "Whoever has been out in the storm all this while will be harmless,aunt, for his musket would be filled with something other thanpowder," Mark replied with a laugh, and then he unbarred the door,surprised to find that it was only with difficulty he could makeheadway against the furious blasts.

  So powerful was the wind that it became necessary for Susan and Luketo unite their strength in order to close the door while Mark wasabsent, and when he returned with a brimming bucket of discoloredwater, the three had no little difficulty in putting the bars intoplace again.

  "It is the fiercest storm I ever saw!" Mark exclaimed as he dashedthe rain-drops from his face. "We'll pray that the _Future Hopes_ isin a snug harbor, otherwise she will have to scud, for I don'tbelieve they could heave her to."

  "Do you think there is any probability your father and uncle may beout in this tempest?" Mistress Pemberton asked, more anxious now forthe safety of the absent ones then she previously had beenconcerning herself.

  "They are too good sailors, mother dear, to take many chances, andwe had fair warning of this storm. If we hadn't been in such sorestraits, there's no question but that we would have been preparedfor it. I noticed the clouds gathering, but at the time thought onlythat it would be o
ur misfortune, since we could not keep watch ofthe Indians. Close-reefed, and with plenty of sea-room, the _FutureHopes_ will ride out this gale without doing more harm to herselfthan the straining of a seam, perhaps."

  "The Frenchmen could not have had time to get their vessel underway," Mistress Pemberton said as if thinking aloud, and Mark sprangto his feet in excitement.

  "Of course they couldn't, and it is well for them if they didn'tsucceed in getting on board, for the craft never had been built thatcan ride at anchor to the eastward of the brook while the wind is soheavy. It would have been impossible to get under way, for she'd beon the rocks before her nose could be brought around into the wind!"

  "Do you suppose they are yet on the island?"

  "I think, unless all hands are good sailors, that they'd try to geton board, and that could have been done because the sea wouldn'tgrow heavy in an instant."

  Further speculation as to the fate of their foes was checked verysuddenly by what sounded like the groaning of a human being indeepest distress, coming from one corner of the room in which theywere seated.

  Instinctively the inmates of the dwelling clutched each other, forit was impossible to see anything in that profound darkness, andduring many seconds no one spoke.

  Then the dismal sound could be heard once more, and Mark, forcinghimself to beat down the fear which assailed him, said, with aneffort:

  "Can you find one of the candles, mother? Some one here must bedying. Where are the children?"

  "Johnny and Jimmie are with me," Ellen said, and Mary added:

  "I'm here with Luke."

  "No one could have got inside without our knowing it," MistressPemberton said, as she groped around for the scanty store ofcandles, which were reserved for use on especial occasions.

  Mark did not reply until his mother succeeded, after many fruitlessefforts, in striking a spark from the steel and flint on the tinder,and as the feeble flame of the candle flickered and flared in thewind which made its way through the crevices, the lad began to tearaway the barricade of household goods which had been thrown up toscreen the window.

  "It is useless to search there," Mistress Pemberton said, quickly,as if a sudden thought had come to her. "One of those whom youwounded is lying outside, and we hear his moans because he is closebeside the building."

  Mark was at the door in an instant, forgetting that he was hasteningto the succor of one who, a short hour previous, was bent on killinghim, and Susan seized the lad by the arm, as she said in a tone ofcaution:

  "It may be some trick to get you outside. Be careful what you do; wehave heard that the Indians often make use of such means to get avictim in their clutches."

  "I'll warrant there is no Indian living who could stay out in thisstorm an hour or more, and then be able to do very much mischief,"Mark replied as he unfastened the bar, waiting only long enough forLuke and Susan to get hold of the door, lest it should be torn fromits hinges by the wind, before he darted out into the blackness.

  A moment later it was possible to hear his voice, as if he spoke tosomeone, and then all was still, save for the raging of the tempest,until he cried from the outside:

  "Open the door, youngsters. I've got a Frenchman here, who must bevery near death!"

  Then, as Luke and Susan gave him admittance, he came staggering intothe room with an apparently lifeless body in his arms, whileMistress Pemberton shielded the candle as best she might, lest thewind extinguish the feeble flame.

  Mark laid his burden on the bed, heeding not the fact that the waterwas running from every angle of the stranger's garments.

  Like Mark, the two women forgot that a bitter enemy was before them;but with gentle care set about ministering to his wants, if, indeedhe would have any more in this world.

  Now all the occupants of the dwelling were too much engrossed withthe work of saving the life which had so nearly been taken by one oftheir number to be able to tell whether the storm was yet raging, orif the morning had come.

  In a very short time it was learned that the man lived, although howhe survived after being exposed to the fury of the tempest so long,could not be understood. He had an ugly-looking wound in the thigh,and another in the left breast; but Mistress Pemberton gave it asher opinion that he was not mortally hurt.

  "With good nursing, I doubt not but that he will live," she said, asshe dressed the wounds to the best of her ability. "But if he does,what shall we do with him?"

  "There is no need to answer that question now, mother dear," Marksaid, gently. "We'll try to pull him through, even if we havealready done our best to kill him, and then he'll know what it is tohave coals of fire heaped on his head; that is," he added, after abrief pause, "if his comrades allow us to live long enough to do thejob."

  A fire was built, tea of herbs made and administered to thesufferer, and before morning came it was possible for him to speak.

  He was sufficiently acquainted with the English language to makethem understand him, and his first words were expressive of surprise.

  "Save when you attack us without cause, we have no desire for yourdeath," Mistress Pemberton replied. "Now you are no longer asoldier, striving to do us grievous injury, but a suffering fellowcreature, and so long as it is in our power we will do whatsoever wemay toward giving you aid."

  The wounded man turned his face away, as if ashamed to look the goodwoman in the face, and after a time Mark questioned him as to howthe chanced to be so near the house.

  From his story, told little by little because of the difficultyexperienced in talking, the facts were soon known.

  He had been among the first to burst through the gate, and was notwounded until when the last shot was fired. Then instinct promptedhim to gain a shelter under the wall of the building, where it wouldnot be possible for those on the inside to see him, immediatelyafter which he lost consciousness. During a long while he remainedas if dead, and it is probable that the deluge of rain served torevive him after a time; but he was ignorant of having made anyoutcry. He remembered of realizing that he was alone, exposed tothe storm, and the next knowledge was that the women were strivingto nurse him back to life.

  The next knowledge was that the women were trying tonurse him back to life.]

  It was morning before the inmates of the dwelling gave much heed toanything save the wounded soldier, and then Mark, after cautioningthe remainder of the family to stay inside the dwelling unless theyheard his cry for help, ventured out into the tempest, whichcontinued with but little decrease of violence.

  The sun had not yet risen, and it the gray light of early dawn itwas not possible to distinguish objects at any great distance. Hehad, in the immediate vicinity of the stockade, however, good proofof the violence with which the storm raged.

  A portion of the palisade itself had been overthrown, leaving anopening through which the entire force of the enemy might havemarched shoulder to shoulder. Trees were uprooted; the small boat,which had been drawn beyond reach of the tide, was now within tenfeet of the battered gate, having been carried there by the wind.

  That the buildings within the stockade remained un-injured was due,doubtless, to the thicket in the rear which served to shield themfrom the full fury of the elements.

  Turn where he might, the same scene of devastation met his gaze, andhe understood that if any of the Frenchmen remained on the islandthey would be powerless to depart, for their vessel could not haveoutlived the night.

  The wind was yet so violent that only with difficulty could he makehis way from one point to another, and the rain beat upon his faceuntil it became necessary to shield his eyes in order to seeanything twenty paces distant; but he struggled against theelements, making his way along the shore toward the place where theFrenchmen's schooner had been moored.

  The vessel no longer remained at her anchorage, nor did he expect tosee her there; but he was not quite prepared for that which met hisgaze when he was where a view of the most northerly point of theharbor island could be had.

  Between
where he stood and the opposite shore was the hull of theschooner, keel uppermost, tossing on the short waves, now completelysubmerged, and again rising high in the air until the greaterportion of the planking could be seen. Clinging to this restlesswreck were six or eight human beings, and on the beach at his feetlay the bodies of two men who had been beaten down to death duringthe conflict of the elements.

  After watching for several moments the plunging, rolling remnant ofwhat had been a seagoing vessel, fitted to withstand almost anybuffeting of wave or wind, Mark became convinced that the wreck wasmoored in some fashion, and then it was possible to guess verynearly how the disaster had occurred.

  It seemed probable that when the first of the Frenchmen gained theschooner's deck, after the fury of the tempest had forced them toretreat from the stockade, the wild tossing of the craft as thewaves were beginning to rise induced them to let go every anchor onboard, under the belief that she could be held at moorings until thestorm had subsided sufficiently to admit of her clawing away fromthe shore.

  He gazed at the struggling wretches on the bottom ofthe wreck.]

  When the tempest was at its height, and after the attacking partyhad succeeded in getting on board, the little craft must have beenliterally blown down, until the water, rushing into the openhatches, had caused her to completely upset.

  The wounded, and all others who were in the cabin, must have beendrowned offhand, and that some of those who tried to save themselvesby clinging to the hulk had suffered a like fate could be told bythe lifeless bodies at Mark's feet.

  Aid had come to the defenders of the island on the wings of thetempest; and at the very time when it seemed as if all hope ofsuccor was vain, the enemy had been overcome by "Him who holdeth thewaters in the hollow of His hand."

  As he gazed at the struggling wretches on the bottom of the wreck,some of whom waved their hands feebly, as if nearly exhausted andimploring him to help them, Mark forgot that but a few hoursprevious these same men had been thirsting for his blood, andthought only that they were in sore need of his assistance.

  He ran with all speed to the stockade, shouting as he approached,and when the women and children hastened outside, believing him tobe in distress, he hurriedly told of what he had seen.

  "Of all those who made the attack, I am satisfied that only the menon the hulk remain alive. It is for us to help them if we can. Thereshould be enough of us here to drag our boat to the water, and Lukeand I will see what can be done in the way of life-saving."

  Sorely beset though they had been, no one thought at that moment ofthe suffering which had been endured because of these men who werenow so near death; but all, even the youngest children, laid hold ofthe boat to launch her.

  It was no slight task to drag the craft, small though she was, overthe sand to the water's edge; but the task was finally accomplished,and then many moments were spent trying to find the oars, which hadbeen blown out of the boat during such time as the tempest forcedher upon the shore.

  A full half-hour must have elapsed from the moment Mark discoveredthe wreck until he and his brother were ready to set off on theirmission of mercy, and then it was an open question as to whetherthey would succeed in the battle against the boisterous waves.

  The members of both families stood near the water's edge, regardlessof the furious storm which was raging, as they watched with anxiouseyes the efforts of the lads. They had set out to save lives; butvery many times did it seem as if their own must of a certainty besacrificed.

  Fortunately they were partially sheltered from the wind by theharbor island, otherwise the task could never have beenaccomplished, and not until both the lads were well-nigh exhausteddid they arrive at the plunging hulk.

  Now it was that the most dangerous portion of the work must beperformed. Only at imminent risk of swamping the small boat couldshe be taken sufficiently near the wreck to permit of a rescue, andthen it was necessary to handle her with the utmost skill, otherwiseshe would have been stove to kindling against the side of the hulk.

  When the boat came close at hand, all the Frenchmen gathered at onepoint, as if counting on leaping aboard at the same moment, andMark shouted, peremptorily:

  "You'll swamp us if more than one comes at a time. Lay back thereyou fellows who are the strongest, and help the weakest first!"

  Then they quarreled among themselves, each insisting that he was inthe greatest need of help, and Mark, finally becoming impatient,cried, sternly:

  "If you can't come aboard like decent people, we'll leave the wholeboiling of you to get along as may be possible."

  "There is not one of us who can cling to this wreck half an hourlonger," a man cried, piteously. "Already five have been washed awayand drowned."

  "Two of you take hold and send aboard that fellow who is lyingacross the keel. He seems to be in the worst shape. Stand back!"the lad added, as four men made ready to seize the small boat atthe first opportunity. "If you come in other order than I give theword, I'll leave all hands."

  By dint of scolding, pulling the boat forward or back as the wavesthreatened, and otherwise handling his small craft in a sailorlyfashion, Mark succeeded in getting four of the men aboard, leavingthree to be rescued later.

  The boat would carry no more of a load than she then had, while thestorm was so furious, and the lads pulled shoreward, aided greatly,when going in this direction, by the wind.

  The members of both families gathered on the beach near about wherea landing would be made, and when the shipwrecked men had been setashore they were helped toward the stockade by the women andchildren, for the Frenchmen were so nearly exhausted that it wasimpossible to walk unaided.

  Then Mark and Luke started on the second journey, battling quite asdesperately as before, and the day was fully half-spent when theybrought the last of the survivors ashore.

  It was not until the seven Frenchmen were being cared for in theapartment of the Pemberton house where the wounded soldier lay, thatthe lad began to realize the possible danger. These eight men, afterhaving recovered, might easily take possession of the stockade, andMark was inclined to believe that people who were willing to makewar on women and children, could not be trusted to play a manly parteven toward those who had saved them from death.

  "What shall we do with them all?" Susan asked, as she came out ofthe house, which had much the appearance of a hospital, to whereMark stood studying the matter seriously.

  "It has just come into my mind that we might herd them in yourfather's house. The greater portion of the things have been takenfrom there, and we can arrange it to bar the doors and shutters onthe outside."

  "Are you counting on holding them as prisoners?" Susan asked, insurprise.

  "That is the only way we may be certain of a crew like that. Afterall that has happened, I wouldn't believe in any promises that mightbe made, and they shall be guarded like so many wildcats."

  "Every one of whom appears to be grateful."

  "Ay, I suppose they are now, before having recovered; but it may bea different matter, once they're in good shape."

  "Do you believe there can be any on the harbor island?"

  "I'm satisfied there are no others alive out of all the crew ofFrench and Indians. Luke and I counted on burying the bodies whichhave been washed ashore, and while we are at that work you hadbetter gather up all the muskets and ammunition, hiding the lot inthe stable until we have the men secured."

  Then, calling his brother, Mark set off toward the beach to performthe last rites over those who had lost their lives while trying tocommit murder most foul, and, that having been done, the two ladsbegan transforming the Harding house into a prison, which last wasdone by fastening all the shutters and one of the doors on theoutside. The other door was to be barred in such a manner that itcould be readily opened by those who were charged with the care ofthe Frenchmen.

  These tasks were not completed until nightfall, and then Mark toldthe rescued party exactly what it was his purpose to do, explainingthat he was not ready to
believe in any protestations they mightmake.

  "You must be held prisoners until our fathers return, and it is tobe remembered that if we find one of you attempting to leave thebuilding, which will be given over to your use, we shall shoot himdown without the slightest feeling of pity or remorse."

  The men swore most solemnly that they would obey every command whichmight be given by those who had saved them from death, and Mark,armed with a loaded musket, lost no time in escorting them to theHarding house.

  It was his intention to have them closely guarded during every hourof the day and night, and to such end Luke was stationed at thefront of the building, where, through a crevice which had been madebetween the logs by Mark, he could keep his charges in view.

  Mistress Pemberton would not consent to having the wounded manremoved with the others. He was given a bed in one corner of theroom, after the furniture piled up as a barricade had been put inplace, and Mary and Ellen were instructed to watch him, not with theidea that he might try to escape, but because his condition wassuch, owing to the wounds and subsequent exposure, that the mostcareful nursing and attention was needed.

  The storm subsided at sunset; the clouds disappeared, and the firstnight after the besieged were turned jailers was as calm andpeaceful as if the harmony of nature had never been disturbed by theclash of arms.

  Luke remained on duty until about ten o'clock in the evening, whenSusan took his place, and shortly after midnight Mark took his turnat guarding the prisoners.

  The Frenchmen had shown no signs of a disposition to do other thanas they were commanded; but Mark would not put faith in them, andkept his watch as if knowing they had already formed a plan forcapturing those who succored them.

  The lad paced to and fro in front of the dwelling, looking in uponthe men every five minutes, until a new day had come, and then as hegazed across the waters watching for the sun to rise, he saw thedingy canvas of the _Future Hopes_, glistening like silver in theearly light.

  The fresh breeze was bearing the little vessel swiftly on, andbefore any inmate of the Pemberton house was astir, she swung to heranchor close inside the harbor, while the two men listened to thestory which Mark had to tell.

  The fishermen had not been able to gain a shelter when the stormburst upon them, therefore the _Future Hopes_ scudded before thewind during the four and twenty hours, which explained why she hadarrived so much sooner than had been expected.

  It would be a labor of love to follow the fortunes of these twofamilies who, in 1758, defended the Island of Mount Desert sobravely against the combined attacks of French and Indians; buthistorians make no further mention of them, after setting forth inthe fewest possible words their deeds, therefore this tale mustperforce come to an end.

  We do know, however, from the records of Pemaquid, that MastersPemberton and Harding carried to the fort eight Frenchmen asprisoners, and that the authorities of Massachusetts took them incharge several weeks later.

  It is also known that in 1769 one Mark Pemberton, with his wifeSusan, settled on Penobscot Bay near where the town of Camden nowstands, and it is reasonable to infer that this man was the samewho, aided by Susan Harding, so bravely defended the island.

  THE END.

  [Transcriber's Notes:]

  Here are all the misspelled words, odd usages and other things ofnote that I have found.

  The word "defence", as it is spelled throughout, is time periodspelling.

  1. This paragraph is accurate to the book. It could read like this:"...otherwise the defences would not be being strengthened when theboys should have been making ready...".

  2. The words "any one" appear to be time period usage. It is usedtwice.

  3. The original does use the word "then" though it should probablybe "when": "...relieved from guard duty, and when the gate had beenclosed..."

  4. The original does use the word "and": "...the gate was barred onthe inside, and Mary Pemberton standing close beside it..."

  5. The original does use the word "prosecute". Isuspect it is just time period usage. "...in position to prosecutetheir murderous work."

  6. This paragraph is accurate to the book: "...there's no show ofour being able to do anything here..."

  7. The second "e" in the word "reechoed" is a small letter "e" withdiaeresis.

  8. The word "of" appears to be time period usage: "...uncle heardfrom those aboard of the last vessel...".

  9. The word "resentiments" appears to be a misprint of"resentments". "...gave vent to their resentiments and rage..."

  10. The words "some one" appear to be time period usage.

  11. The second "e" in the word "reentered" is a small letter "e"with diaeresis. It is also used in the title of the 13thillustration.

  12. This paragraph is accurate to the book: "...shake the veryearth, and on the moment rain fell in torrents..."

  13. The word "greal" appears to be a misprint for "great": "...thestorm continued with greal fury."

  14. The words "some one" appear to be time period usage.

  15. The word "of" appears to be time period usage: "...to permit ofa rescue..."

  [End of Transcriber's Notes.]