"If they got the young redskin," observed Jo Stinger, standing at the elbow of Ned, "it wouldn't have been there; that varmint would have made a fight, and he would have given them a good run before they brought him down."
Ned Preston felt the force of this declaration, but he stood silent several minutes longer, still watching the bushes with a weak hope that they would give some sign that would bid him take heart.
But he was disappointed, and, withdrawing his gaze, he looked at the well which stood very near the middle of the square within the stockade.
"Uncle," said Ned, addressing his relative without regard to his military title, "I heard you tell father that you meant to dig a well inside the block-house, so the Indians could not cut off the water."
"I did intend to do so, and it ought to have been done long ago, but you know that men, like boys, are apt to put off till to-morrow that which should be done to-day."
"The Wyandots can destroy that well any night, or they can tear away some of the stockades so as to shoot any one who goes near it."
"That is self-evident, I am sorry to say."
"You have a barrel of water in the house?"
"Yes, an abundance for every purpose, excepting——"
The Colonel hesitated and smiled: all knew what he meant. The most dangerous enemy they had to fear, was the very one against which no efficient provision had been made.