CHAPTER V.
THE OUTCROPPINGS OF TREASON.
When the flush of day broke upon Strong’s fort, not a foe was to be seen.
The numerous stumps in the clearing sheltered no feathered head; but the whites knew that their enemies had not raised the siege. The greater portion of the dusky besiegers had withdrawn to the river bank, while large numbers lay behind the hill, in the rear of the fort.
But, as the light became stronger, the defenders caught glimpses of tufts of feathers along the river; but no shots were fired.
In the opinion of several settlers, the perilous situation of affairs called for a council of war, and accordingly Captain Strong, much against his will, was induced to convene such an assembly. The council met in the lower room of the fort.
“Men,” said Strong, who could not conceal his ill-humor, “as I have said, I see no necessity for this council. I thought I was director of affairs here, and when Indians are to be dealt with, I know what to do. But I will listen to any suggestions you may offer, and, if I like, will adopt them.”
Several old “fire-lands” men shook their heads gravely at the captain’s words; but made no reply.
Mark Harmon, the young frontiersman, opened the council.
“In the first place,” he said, “we need a new well.”
“We have a well, sir,” said Strong, tartly.