“Mass’ George,” he whispered, “Injum dah. Come ober big fence.”
I was too late, and yet not too late to give warning.
“Run and tell Colonel Preston,” I said in a whisper. “Quick.”
Pomp was too well accustomed to obey to hesitate, and he ran off in one direction round the ruins to where the colonel was defending the palisade, while I darted off in the other, rushed right up to where the General was standing calmly enough giving directions.
As I reached him I heard him utter the word, “Forward!” and about twenty men moving round, and were evidently going up to the part from which I had come.
My news resulted in their recall, and that of the men defending the palisade, orders being given to fall back toward the rough defence made in the centre of the enclosure, which we reached in safety, just as we found that Colonel Preston’s men were falling back towards us, firing as they came, but toward the direction from which the new danger threatened.
The way in which the defence had been planned stood us in good stead now, for as our party was halted, waiting for the colonel’s men, a loud yelling came from behind the block-house ruins, and the rapid beat of feet told plainly enough that a large body of the enemy had clambered in and were coming on.
Any want of promptitude would have resulted in the Indians getting between our two little forces; but a sharp order was given, and a volley rattled out—the flashing of the pieces showing in a dimly-seen line the fierce faces of our enemies, who appeared to be thrown into confusion, but who still came on, when a second volley was poured into them, and that was followed by one from the Colonel’s men, the last checking them so effectually that we had time to get well behind the breastwork and reload.
I say we, though I was unarmed, but still I had played my part; and as soon as I could get through the men crowded behind our last defence, I hurried to where my father was anxiously awaiting my return, and the report which I had to make.