It is impossible to describe the sight that was revealed to us by the first rapid glimpse. All that day the redskins must have been burrowing a passage beneath the drifts from the woods to the fort. They had planted a bag or cask of powder at the very base of the tower, and blown it into a heap of ruins, out of which could be seen sticking the bodies of the two poor fellows who had been on duty there. As yet only a small force of Indians—those who had approached by the tunnel—were storming the breach, and these were being held at bay by a dozen of our men who had reached the spot before the captain and myself. Muskets were cracking, and tomahawks were flying through the air; the yells of invaders and invaded made a horrible din.
At the first I saw some hope of holding the sheltered place—of beating the enemy off. I plunged into the thick of the fight, emptying my gun into the breast of a red devil, and bringing the butt down on the head of another. We pressed close up to the sides of the tower, and gained footholds on the ruins. Hand to hand we fought desperately, shooting and striking at the Indians and keeping them on the outside of the fort. Not many of them had firearms, and so far as I could see, but one of our men had fallen.
“Stand up to it!” I shouted. “Hold your ground!”
“Hit hard!” cried Captain Rudstone. “Finish all you can before the main rush comes!”
Flushed with triumph, half-crazed by the thirst for blood, we did not pause to reflect that the scale must soon turn the other way. Face to face, weapon to weapon, we held the savages at bay, sending one after another to his last account. Meanwhile more men kept joining us, until, excepting a few who were on duty at other points, our whole available force was present. I heard Andrew Menzies giving directions. I saw Father Cleary on my left and Christopher Burley on the right, both striking at the painted faces behind the shattered walls.
“This is hot work, Carew,” Captain Rudstone found a chance to shout in my ear, “and it’s precious little use to keep it up. The devils will soon be at us in their hundreds. Now is the time to make a safe retreat to the house.”
“I think the same,” I answered, as I dodged a whizzing tomahawk; “and if Menzies don’t soon give the command I will.”
The words were scarcely out of my mouth when the clamor took a deeper, shriller pitch. We all knew what it meant—the tide was turning. Through the gaping holes in the watch tower stamped against the snowy mist, we saw a dark mass rolling forward—scores and scores of painted Indians.