"Are you acquainted with this house?" asked Josh.
"I ought to be; it is my father's," was the short answer. "I am Stephen Carter."
"That is well; then you have a right to command. Will you see that the doors and windows are closed? All the men who have arms must guard the entrances. Those who have none, with the women, must draw water from the wells and fill every bucket and utensil, for the Indians will try to burn us out; it is their way."
He had hardly finished speaking, when the frantic[!-- [Pg 292] --] yells of the savages, the shots pouring in on all sides, told only too plainly that the siege had already begun.
"Young man, whoever you may be," said the farmer, who had at first protested, "you brought us into this trap, and you must get us out."
"I'll do the best I can for you," answered Josh, and he went off one way, Stephen Carter another, to organise the defence.
They were indeed in a desperate strait; to enter the house and massacre every white man, woman, and child, was the determined object of the besiegers, and they left no device untried to accomplish this.
"The devils! I told you they'd fire us," said Josh to Stephen, as looking through a chink he saw the Indians piling wood and other combustible materials up against the walls of the house.
"Quick, make a chain and give them a shower-bath," he shouted.
He was obeyed with right good-will, and the flames were extinguished.