But, either owing to the fire in the chimney or to a short season of thaw, the roof of their hut one day fell in. It then, almost immediately, became a fort to attack and to defend over the battlements. The children organized into two parties, for assault and repulse, with soft snow-balls, broken icicles for spears, and baskets for shields.
It was a little hard for them to divide into two parties. It was hard for Ally that Jane took Bobbo inside the fortification—Ally’s cat, you remember. It was just as hard for Janet that Bose and Diamond—her dogs—belonged to the attacking party, and were always its most furious members, their bark as good as a war-whoop. And Essie might not have forgiven Janet at all for belonging to the other side had not it been for the sappers and miners later.
Will and Jack and Janet were the colonists, inside the fort. Charlie and Essie and Ally were the Indians. Puss Bobbo was an Indian captive in the fort. The dogs were allies of the Indians; and the Indians were continually being repulsed with great slaughter, although presently very active again, for dead and wounded.
One morning during the siege, Bose happened to find a rabbit-hole. The snow had been blown or scuffed away from it, and into the little tunnel of frozen earth Bose plunged, and of course Diamond after him; and along it both made their way, scratching and burrowing and yelping with all their might. Suddenly their movements were heard inside the fort, which had been built, it seems, directly over the rabbit burrow. Will gave the alarm.
“Sappers and miners! sappers and miners! The enemy are upon us!”
“Oh! we are lost!” cried the garrison.
And then Bose’s head emerged in the very middle of the snow fort’s floor, and the colonists seized the dogs with tremendous cheering and also, it must be owned, with any amount of hugging, and held them captive.
This unwarrior-like conduct so displeased Bobbo that he sprang upon the battlements and deserted to the enemy on the instant, to the great relief of Ally and Essie.
“Oh, Aunt Rose!” cried Essie, when they went in at night, “do you believe the little Esquimau children in their snow huts have any better time than we do?”
The battles were renewed morning after morning, the weather being bright. Hostilities were sometimes suspended in order that the besieged party might sally out for more snow, after the way in which the Samoan armies borrow ammunition of each other; for, of course, if you want the fun of fighting, both parties must have munitions of war.