CHAPTER XXVII.
THE SIEGE OF THE HOUSE.
They had started from the woods the moment the explosion occurred, andthey would have arrived earlier but for the fresh snow that lay on thefrozen crust.
"Stand firm!" cried Menzies. "Give them a raking volley at closequarters."
"And be ready to retire in good order," I shouted. "We can't afford tolose a man."
With that the living tide was upon us. Screeching and veiling likedemons, the horde of savages struck the weakened northeast angle of thefort. There was no checking them, though our muskets poured a leadenrain. Some entered by the breach, dashing over the debris of wood andstone; others clambered to the top of the palisades and dropped downinside.
At the first we had to retire a little, so overwhelming was the rush.Then we made a brief stand and tried to stem the torrent. Bang, bang,bang! bullets flew thickly, from both sides and hissing tomahawks fellamong us. I saw two men drop near me, and heard cries of agony minglingwith the infernal din. We held our ground until the foremost of thesavages were at arm's length, striking and hacking at us through thesnow and powder smoke. Two or three score were already within the fort,and when a section of the stockade fell with a crash--borne down bysheer weight--I believed for a terrible moment that all was lost.
"Back, back!" I cried hoarsely. "Back for your lives, men! We can't doanything more here!"
"Ay, the inclosure is taken!" shouted Captain Rudstone. "Back to thehouse! Keep your faces to the foe, and make every shot tell!"
Menzies called out a similar order, seeing that any delay would imperilour last chance, and those of us who were left slowly began the retreat.We drew off into the narrow passage, with high banks of snow on eitherside, that led to the factor's house. The yelling redskins pressed afterus, and for several moments, by a cool and steady fire, we preventedthem from coming to close quarters again.
We kept firing and loading while we moved backward, and as it was nextto impossible to miss, the Indians seemed disheartened by the heavydamage we inflicted on them. For ourselves, we lost three men in a brieftime, and we would have lost more but for the shelter of theoutbuildings, round some of which the path turned.
When we were halfway to the house, and had passed the quarters, we werejoined by the sentries from the southwest tower. But now the savagesplucked up courage, and made a rush that brought them within six yardsof us. We stood at bay, and delivered a straggling fire. The Indiansreturned it as they pushed on doggedly. A voyageur fell at my side, andanother dropped in front of me. There was a sudden cry that the priestwas shot, and glancing to the right, I saw Father Cleary reel down inthe snow and lie motionless.
"We must run for it!" shouted Captain Rudstone. "Make a dash for thehouse, men!"
"For God's sake, no!" I yelled hoarsely. "If we turn now we will beovertaken and butchered! Hold firm!"
Just then, when the situation was most critical, an unexpected thinggave us the opportunity we so sorely needed. In the retreat we haddragged one of the howitzers along with us, and we had forgotten untilnow that it was loaded. In a trice we put it in position and touched itoff.
Crash! The heavy charge ploughed into the huddled mass of savages. Tojudge from the agonized shrieks that followed the loss of life must havebeen terrible, but we could see nothing for the dense cloud of smokethat hung between us.
"To the house!" cried Menzies.
"Quick--for your lives!" I shouted.
With that we turned our backs and made off, dashing along in somedisorder and leaving the howitzer behind. We half expected to beovertaken, but by the time the Indians had recovered from their checkand pushed on, the house was before us.
We staggered inside by twos and threes, and closed and barred themassive door. A respite for rest and breathing was badly needed, but wedid not dare to take it. Half of our men went to the front loopholes,and as fast as they could load and fire they picked off the yellingwretches who were now swarming thickly before the house. In theirfrenzied rage they exposed themselves recklessly, sending volley aftervolley of lead against the stout beams and even hurling tomahawks.
I took no part in this scrimmage myself. With Menzies and several othersI went over the lower floor of the house, and made sure that all was inright condition for a protracted siege. We placed lighted candles in thehall, and opened the doors communicating with it, so that some lightcould shine into the various rooms.
Meanwhile the firing had dwindled and ceased, and when we returned tothe front we found that the Indians had abandoned the attack and meltedaway; none were in sight from the loopholes, but we could hear themmaking a great clamor in the direction of the trading house and otheroutbuildings.
This relief gave us a chance to consult regarding our future plans, andto count up our little force. Alas! but sixteen of us had entered thehouse. That was our whole number; the rest of the forty odd had perishedduring the fighting of the past two days; and not the least mournedamong that night's casualties was brave Father Cleary. Fortunately, noneof us were disabled, though Christopher Burley had been grazed by abullet, and Captain Rudstone and several others had been gashed slightlyby tomahawks. The wounded transferred from the hospital, who were in asmall room at the rear, were now reduced to five; two had died thatmorning, as Dr. Knapp predicted.
But there was no time for useless grief or idleness. We had no soonerserved out rations, loaded all the guns and posted the men on the foursides of the house than the Indians showed a determination to crowntheir triumph by taking our stronghold. At first they kept to theshelter of the surrounding outbuildings, and blazed steadily away at thehouse, on the chance of sending a bullet through the loopholes or thechinks of the logs. Twice a little squad of savages rushed forwardcarrying a beam, with which they hoped to batter down the door. But wepoured a hot fire into them--it was light enough outside for us to takeaim--and each time they wavered and fell back, leaving the snow dottedwith dead bodies.
After that came a lull, except for intermittent shots, and CaptainRudstone predicted that an unpleasant surprise was being prepared for usby the Northwest men whom we believed to be among the redskins.
"It may be all that," I answered him stoutly, "but the house is not tobe taken."
A little later I took advantage of the inaction to go upstairs, whitherMenzies had already preceded me. He was with his wife and Miss Hathertonin a back room with one small window, and that protected by a heavyshutter.
I drew Flora aside and explained to her, as hopefully as possible, theplan by which we expected ultimately to escape to Fort York. What else Isaid to her, or what sweet and thrilling words she whispered into myear, I do not purpose to set down here; but when I returned to the lowerfloor my heart was throbbing with happiness, and I felt strengthened andbraced to meet whatever fate might hold in store. I was strangelyconfident at the time that we should outwit our bloodthirsty foes.
Menzies followed me below, and almost at once the Indians renewed theattack, mainly on the front of the house and on the north side. Theyexposed themselves on the verge of the outbuildings, blazing awaysteadily, and drawing a constant return fire from our men. At the end ofa quarter of an hour they were still wasting ammunition. They must havesuffered heavily, and yet not one of their bullets had done us any harm.I wandered from room to room, taking an occasional shot, and finally Istopped in the hall, where Captain Rudstone and three others were postedat the loopholes right and left of the door.
"The Indians will run out of powder presently; if they keep up at thisrate," said I. "They can't have much of a leader."
"Too clever a one for us," the captain answered, as he loaded hismusket. "This is only a ruse, a diversion, Carew. There is something tofollow."
"I hope it will come soon," I replied. "Then the savages will likelydraw off and give us a chance to put a force of men to work at thetunnel. We should finish it by noon to-morrow, and escape through it atnightfall. If the snow keeps up--as it gives promise
of doing--ourtracks will be covered before we have gone a mile."
"I like the plan," said old Carteret, the voyageur. "It sounds well, andit's possible to be carried out under certain conditions. But if you'llnot mind my saying--"
He paused an instant to aim and fire.
"One redskin the less," he added, peering out the loophole; "he sprangthree feet in the air when I plugged him. As for your plan, Mr. Carew, Ithink the odds are about evenly divided. There's the chance that thevarmints will suspect something of the sort, and watch the stockade onall sides."
"Likely enough," assented Captain Rudstone; "but it's not to thatquarter I look for the danger. The Indians can take the house by assaultin an hour if they choose to sacrifice a lot of lives."
"It would cost fifty or a hundred," said I. "They won't pay such aprice."
"There is no telling how far they will go," the captain answeredgravely, "with Northwest Company men to egg them on."
As he spoke there was a sudden and noisy alarm from the room on theright of the hall, which commanded the south side of the house. Half adozen muskets cracked in rapid succession, the reports blending with adin of voices. Then Menzies yelled hoarsely: "This way, men! Come, forGod's sake! Quick, or we are lost!"
The summons was promptly responded to. I was the first to dash into theroom, followed by Rudstone and Carteret. I put my eyes to a vacantloophole and what I saw fairly froze the blood in my veins.
The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada Page 27
