Harry had noticed this, inexperienced as he was; but it was further impressed upon him by a whisper from Phra, who stood by him, double gun in hand.
"If their leader were to make one bold attack, Hal, we should be driven inside, and then I'm afraid it would be all over."
"There are a good many of them," said Harry evasively, "and it doesn't seem nice shooting at people as if they were tigers."
"They are tigers," said Phra fiercely. "They would kill us all."
"Then we must treat them as tigers," said Harry coolly, "and shoot all we can. Look here, the numbers are not so bad as they appear, because one Englishman is as good as ten such fighting men as these, to put it modestly; and you and your father and some of these here are half English now; so we're stronger than we seem. I say, I don't feel as if I want to know, it's so horrible; but I feel as if I ought to."
"To know what?"
"When the wretches burned the bungalow, did they—"
"Look out!" panted Phra; "they're coming on to break down the gates."
Phra was right, for by the light of the paper lanthorns, swinging on high at the tops of spears, a dense crowd of the enemy could be dimly seen surging up towards the opening with a dull, hoarse roar; and a sharp order or two was given by some one who seemed to be in command.
There was an order too given on the defenders' side, and as the foe reached the gates and planted rough ladders there to climb up—this being the first time they had been so daring in their attack, those before having been confined to thrusting and throwing spears—a single shot rang out, and then another. These were followed by a volley from about a dozen pieces, but the assailants were not checked. Several fell, but the others came on desperately, and in obedience to a word from Sree the spearmen just brought in marched forward to stand close behind the people firing, and about a dozen more drawn up by the palace joined them.