Suddenly a shout went up from behind the belt of timberland, and a small cannon spoke up, sending a shell into the ditch outside the stockade.
"Hullo, they have a cannon after all," thought Captain Moore. He called Dilberry to him. "Can you get the range of that piece?" he asked.
"I can try, sir."
"Then do it, and if you can disable the piece so much the better."
At once the head gunner ran off and sighted one of the cannon of the fort with care.
A few seconds later the cannon spoke up with a report that rang in the boys' ears for long after. The ball sped straight into the timberland and cut down a heavy sapling growing beside the piece the enemy were reloading. One desperado was killed instantly and another badly injured.
"A fair shot!" said the young captain. "Try it again," but before Dilberry could do so the cannon was withdrawn from sight.
After this came another lull, as if desperadoes and Indians were considering what to do next.
"It's a wonder they don't make a rush," said Joe, "if they have so many in their command."
"Nobody cares to risk an advance in the open, Joe," said old Benson. "More than likely they won't try to do much until dark."