Besieged
Joe stood still, studying the smoke and trying to analyze its meaning. Fear tugged at his heart, and his lips had gone dry. He could see only the smoke, and it was not a forest fire because it was not traveling. Winterson would hardly be burning brush at this season, either. The obvious answer was that Winterson's house itself was burning, but why? Was it an accidental fire? Or had the Indians, whom Major Dismuke respected and Winterson scorned, finally attacked? Joe walked back into the clearing and turned to look nervously at the forest. If the Indians were on the warpath, they would come from the woods.
He felt and checked a rising fright. Whatever the situation was, it must be met coolly. Panic would help nothing. Joe entered the house and Emma, cooking breakfast for the rest of the family, looked questioningly at him.
"There's things afoot," Joe said quietly. "I think Winterson's house is burning and Indians might have set it. We'd better get ready for whatever it is."
Horror was reflected in Emma's face. "That poor woman!"
Ellis still slept outside and he had not yet come in. Joe went to his bed and shook his shoulder.
"Ellis."
Ellis, who had a happy faculty for coming awake all at once, opened his eyes and sat up.
"What do you want, Joe?"
"Things might be stirring. I believe the Wintersons' house is burning and we'd better be ready for visitors. Come on in."