I took no part in this scrimmage myself. With Menzies and several others I went over the lower floor of the house, and made sure that all was in right condition for a protracted siege. We placed lighted candles in the hall, and opened the doors communicating with it, so that some light could shine into the various rooms.
Meanwhile the firing had dwindled and ceased, and when we returned to the front we found that the Indians had abandoned the attack and melted away; none were in sight from the loopholes, but we could hear them making a great clamor in the direction of the trading house and other outbuildings.
This relief gave us a chance to consult regarding our future plans, and to count up our little force. Alas! but sixteen of us had entered the house. That was our whole number; the rest of the forty odd had perished during the fighting of the past two days; and not the least mourned among that night’s casualties was brave Father Cleary. Fortunately, none of us were disabled, though Christopher Burley had been grazed by a bullet, and Captain Rudstone and several others had been gashed slightly by tomahawks. The wounded transferred from the hospital, who were in a small room at the rear, were now reduced to five; two had died that morning, as Dr. Knapp predicted.
But there was no time for useless grief or idleness. We had no sooner served out rations, loaded all the guns and posted the men on the four sides of the house than the Indians showed a determination to crown their triumph by taking our stronghold. At first they kept to the shelter of the surrounding outbuildings, and blazed steadily away at the house, on the chance of sending a bullet through the loopholes or the chinks of the logs. Twice a little squad of savages rushed forward carrying a beam, with which they hoped to batter down the door. But we poured a hot fire into them—it was light enough outside for us to take aim—and each time they wavered and fell back, leaving the snow dotted with dead bodies.
After that came a lull, except for intermittent shots, and Captain Rudstone predicted that an unpleasant surprise was being prepared for us by the Northwest men whom we believed to be among the redskins.
“It may be all that,” I answered him stoutly, “but the house is not to be taken.”
A little later I took advantage of the inaction to go upstairs, whither Menzies had already preceded me. He was with his wife and Miss Hatherton in a back room with one small window, and that protected by a heavy shutter.
I drew Flora aside and explained to her, as hopefully as possible, the plan by which we expected ultimately to escape to Fort York. What else I said to her, or what sweet and thrilling words she whispered into my ear, I do not purpose to set down here; but when I returned to the lower floor my heart was throbbing with happiness, and I felt strengthened and braced to meet whatever fate might hold in store. I was strangely confident at the time that we should outwit our bloodthirsty foes.
Menzies followed me below, and almost at once the Indians renewed the attack, mainly on the front of the house and on the north side. They exposed themselves on the verge of the outbuildings, blazing away steadily, and drawing a constant return fire from our men. At the end of a quarter of an hour they were still wasting ammunition. They must have suffered heavily, and yet not one of their bullets had done us any harm. I wandered from room to room, taking an occasional shot, and finally I stopped in the hall, where Captain Rudstone and three others were posted at the loopholes right and left of the door.
“The Indians will run out of powder presently; if they keep up at this rate,” said I. “They can’t have much of a leader.”