“It is there already,” cried Mrs. Wilson, who was gazing up through into the loft. “Father in heaven help us, for we can do nothing of ourselves. Put forth Thy hand and save us from this terrible fate.”
A shout arose from the throats of the savages at that moment; but as though in answer to her prayer, a loud clap of thunder resounded above their heads, drowning the shouts of their enemies. The scout uttered a joyful exclamation.
“That sound does my heart good,” he cried. “If the rain will only come down in ten minutes we are saved.”
“The cabin will be one mass of flames before that time,” cried Ned. “The flames have caught upon the roof and it is blazing like tinder. Pray Heaven that the rain may come at once.”
“Amen,” responded all.
The flames roared and surged without, half drowning the exultant shouts of the savages, who now felt sure of their victims. The smoke poured into the cabin through every crevice, until it was all they could do to breathe. Still though the thunder-peals sounded nearer, the wished-for rain held aloof, as though on purpose to tantalize them and augment their fears.
“Lie down close to the floor,” cried the scout. “You can breathe better there. If it don’t rain in three minutes’ time, we must trust ourselves to the red devils outside.”
They obeyed his direction, but hardly had they stretched themselves out before they were startled by an object which came down from the loft and went bouncing across the floor.
Before they could make up their minds what it was, another object came crashing down upon them.
It was the Yankee and his pack.