Onward marched the insurgents, moving up the hill like a dark wave rolling slowly forward. They could be clearly distinguished, all bending low to the ground, as they crossed the more open places exposed to the bright moonlight. On and on they came, but still not a sign was shown by the garrison that they were perceived. They must have known, however, that they could not get close up to the fortifications without being discovered. Suddenly, at a signal from their leaders, up they rose to a man, uttering the most terrific shrieks and howls, and, rushing forward, fired their muskets. Thick as hail the bullets came rattling against the palisades and the upper portions of the house, some chipping off splinters from the tops of the timbers, others sticking in the wood, others penetrating through the interstices. None of the garrison, however, were killed, but several were slightly wounded, though not in a way to compel them to leave their posts.
“Now, give it the rascals!” cried the lieutenant, as the blacks were within a dozen yards of the palisades. Every man fired, and many of the blacks were seen struggling back or falling to the ground. Their companions, excited to fury by the rum they had obtained from some of the plundered estates, sprang forward without noticing them, shouting and shrieking and throwing themselves desperately against the chevaux-de-frise, forgetting the hedge of prickly-pear which had been entwined amidst it. With cries of dismay as the sharp points pierced their legs and wounded their hands, they fell back in spite of the efforts of their chiefs to urge them on, thus giving the garrison time to reload.
“Now fire at them, my lads, and the day is ours,” cried the lieutenant. His men obeyed the order, and once more the negroes rushed away helter-skelter, nor would listen to the entreaties of their leaders to stop till they reached the bottom of the hill. “I think we have done for them this time,” exclaimed Lieutenant Belt, in a tone of exultation. The same opinion was expressed by most of the garrison.
“There are some desperate fellows among them, or they would not have come on in the way they have already done,” observed the overseer.
Many of the slaves had lately been imported from Africa, and were likely to pursue their native mode of fighting, which, it was too probable, would enable them to obtain that success which they had hitherto failed to gain. A short time passed away, during which the blacks maintained a perfect silence. It was hoped by many within the house that they were about to retreat, when lights were seen suddenly to burst forth along the whole line, and gradually to approach. It appeared at first as if a dark wall was rising out of the valley, but this shortly resolved itself into huge faggots carried at the end of poles. Between every two or three of the faggots was seen a torch, too evidently for the purpose of kindling the wood.
“Good heavens! they are going to try and set our fortifications on fire, and the house also, I fear, if they can,” exclaimed Mr Twigg.
“And they will succeed too, I am afraid,” said the overseer gloomily. “I was sure they had some accursed trick in contemplation.”
“What do you advise, Lieutenant Belt?” asked Mr Ferris, who remained more collected than any one else.
“We must make a sortie and drive them back before they reach our lines,” answered the lieutenant. “I will lead it myself, and I am sure I shall not want followers.”
Archie was the first volunteer, and nearly a dozen more white men immediately sprang forward. Not a moment was to be lost.