Our officers were soon fairly well satisfied that if an attack were coming it would be from the dark side, and there our forces were concentrated to stand waiting, while scarcely any one but the sentries stood at the fence nearest the house and watched the flames.
Had the houses been together, the whole place would have been rapidly burned down; but, fortunately for us, each little house stood in the middle of its own plot, fifty, a hundred, and sometimes several hundred yards apart, so that they burned as so many separate fires, others springing up in various directions till twelve were blazing, and no effort could be made to check the flames.
“It would only be sending men to their death,” I heard my father say as I stood near, hot with impotent rage.
“Yes. It is impossible to do anything,” replied the General. “If we were free to act, our whole force could not save the houses; and I cannot set the men to work with their buckets in the blazing light, to be shot down by the arrows of the Indians hidden somewhere in the darkness.”
As the twelfth house blazed up, with the Indians still cunningly keeping out of sight and crawling among the trees or crops, we all stood watching the houses left, wondering which would be the next to burst out into flame; but now we waited in vain, for the destruction had ceased as far as fresh additions were concerned. But the doomed dwellings crackled and flashed, and every time a beam or a ceiling fell in, the heavens were brilliant with the great bursts of sparks, which eddied and rose higher and higher, to join the great cloud floating quietly toward the now golden river.
Still there was no sign of Indians; and at last my father walked round to the other side to join the most keen-sighted of our men in the look-out for the enemy, who was momentarily expected to be detected creeping up.
From where I now stood I could hear the buzz of voices in the block-house, where the whole of the occupants were watching the destruction—in twelve of the cases this being the sweeping away of a treasured and peaceful home.
By degrees the exclamations and words of sorrow—more than once mingled with sobs—grew fainter, and there was a terrible silence, through which came the sharp hissing and crackling of the burning wood, with again and again a dull thud as some beam went down. At such times the flames seemed to glow with twofold brilliancy, and the sparks were doubled in size, while after a few minutes the fire, that had been temporarily damped, blazed up higher than ever.
“If we only had the orders to shoot,” I heard one man say to another, “I wouldn’t care then.”
“But there’s nothing to shoot at,” was the reply. “I say, though, I’ve been thinking.”