Fatigued with our day's tramp, we retired at an early hour, and had been asleep but a short time, when we were aroused by the continual barking of his two watchdogs. These, I had noticed on arriving at the house. They were noble-looking animals.
Throwing aside my blanket, and sitting up, I noticed that Partridge had done the same.
As for the person who had failed to find his natural avocation, he was already on his feet, as also was our Chinese friend. The latter volunteered a very unnecessary explanation.
"Doggee too much barkee. Pig-tail Bobbee, no sleepee."
The dogs certainly did keep up a confounded row. We concluded that, under the circumstances, a renewed attempt at slumber would be useless. In accordance with this view of the situation, John Partridge and myself also rose, "keeping an eye out" for what might turn up next.
We had only been on our legs for a few minutes, when one of the dogs rushed against the door with a prolonged howl. On opening it, he ran in, and we saw an arrow sticking in his body. The door was instantly closed and barred. It was clear that we were attacked, and I instantly peered through one of the small holes with which the boarded and sodded walls of the house were pierced, to see what I could.
It was dark enough. Yet my eyes were sufficiently keen to discern the dusky forms of objects moving in front, which were evidently red-skins.
But the gloom was too great for us to fire with a reasonable chance of hitting them. We must wait for the daylight. It was now some two hours past midnight, and when the dawn broke we should—ha! what was this? Smoke driving through the dried sods on the inside of the walls, followed here and there, where the shrinking of the matted earth had given such a chance, by lancing tongues of flame.
Light had been afforded us much sooner than we had, in any way, anticipated.
The red devils had set the house on fire.