“You seem to forget that we have depended on the river for much water. That supply is effectually cut off now, and our sole well will not supply the demand in case the fort should be set on fire with blazing arrows. We are in for a desperate siege; the result of the gate battle has exasperated our foes, and they will leave no hellish contrivance for our capture untried. I look for terrible times to-night.”
“And you will not be disappointed, Harmon,” said an old gray-haired settler. “We stand on the edge of a crater.”
“Gentlemen, I anticipate but little hardship,” said Strong, who had listened to the young scout, with a clearly defined sneer. “The Wyandots will abandon the siege before two days, for there are other forts weaker than ours. Throop’s, Martin’s, and Westfall’s can not withstand a siege. Knowing this, the Indians will desert us for them; then, during their absence, we can strengthen our own resources.”
“Suppose, captain, that an attack should be made to-night, and our roof be set on fire,” said Levi Armstrong. “’Tis said that there are but two feet of water in the well now, and none flowing in.”
“The statement is not correct,” retorted Strong, quickly. “Yesterday I fathomed four feet of water, and more was entering. The well is a good one, and can not be dipped dry. I know whereof I speak; therefore my positiveness, gentlemen.”
The council broke up without a command being given for a new well. A number of the settlers sided with Zebulon Strong; but a wary few felt that the proposed well was an absolute want.
However, Mark Harmon got a guard over their water supply, and each family received a certain quantity of the precious fluid. The stubbornness of the captain was the cause of much comment; but as he was an old woodman and knew much of Indian sieges, it was generally admitted that he knew best, and so the day wore on.
“Do you think we will be attacked to-night, Mr. Harmon?”
The speaker’s mellow tones denoted her to be Huldah Armstrong, and she looked anxiously into the borderer’s face as she asked the question. They stood near a port-hole that looked at the hills, behind whose bare summit the sun had just disappeared.
“I look for bloodshed before dawn,” he said. “The savages would have us believe that they have deserted the vicinity; but they still remain. They are not going to raise the siege so soon after its inauguration, Miss Armstrong.” And then glancing through the port he quickly changed the subject. “But your run for life was perilous.”