"Mrs. Pike was bringing another keg from the cellar when her husband was killed. I have heard your father say he had enough in the house to withstand a siege of a week."
"Two of the oxen are dead," Arthur cried, as he looked hastily through one of the apertures at the rear of the house. "How did they get out of the barn? I am certain all the cattle were fastened in the stalls when neighbor Pike came."
Ben rushed to his brother's side.
"Some of the Indians have gained shelter there!" he cried, nervously. "Go back to mother, and I will watch here."
He had hardly spoken when three savages were seen coming cautiously out of the building, and again the discharge of the muskets in the room prevented the besieged from hearing any movement or words from each other.
It was an hour past noon when the defenders of the "garrison" had another opportunity for rest, and then, while the women watched, Ben and Arthur cooled the heated barrels of the muskets by pouring water through them.
RUNNING OUT QUICKLY HE FILLED ONE BUCKET.
Before the work had been completed the supply of the precious liquid was exhausted, and without an intimation to his mother or brother of what he was about to do, Ben unbarred the door. Running out quickly, he filled one bucket, and was in the act of stepping upon the threshold, when the single report of a gun was heard, and he staggered forward, his face growing pale beneath the grime of powder.
Arthur had fastened the door again before he paid any attention to his brother, and then with heavy heart he stepped to the side of his mother, who was cutting off the sleeve of the coat, which was red with blood.