"This," said the first sniper, as he took aim and fired a second time, "is tame sport. It's too easy."
A third man fell.
The Siberians scattered. It was clear that they had little taste for this kind of thing. They found cover, and, for half an hour or more, not one showed himself.
Then a little group dashed across towards the house, evidently with the intention of pillage. The three snipers fired. One man fell, and two, evidently wounded, limped after their fellows.
Then, for hours, not a sign!
Evening drew down, a foggy evening, with a mist so dense that the faint gleam of what was almost the midnight sun failed to pierce it. By eleven o'clock, it was nearly dark.
"They'll attack around midnight, likely," one of the men suggested. "Can't we make a big fire, 'Wizard'?"
"There's no wood here, Bob," the expert replied. "As for the lignite, even if we could get enough of it here without exposing ourselves, it makes such a lot of smoke that it would help them more than it would us. No, we'll have to send out scouts, though it'll be dangerous for those who go. Who'll volunteer?"
A chorus answered him, the three snipers claiming the preference.
"No," said their leader, "I can't spare you. But I'll take old-timers, that's sure!" He chose them carefully. "Now," he said, when he sent them out, "keep your ears open. Don't shoot unless you have to. If you see or hear any one coming, get back as quick as you can. It's a risk, you know!"