“It’s kind of late for supper,” said Jeems, “but it’s never too late to eat.”
So the boys made as good a meal in the darkness as they could, and felt better for it. They also drank sparingly of the water, for they did not know how long the siege would last. It was now about half-past one, and the boys were very anxious for the morning to break.
About three o’clock there came a furious firing from behind a hastily constructed entrenchment at the end of the hill opposite where the boys had built their stockade.
Most of the bullets buried themselves harmlessly in the soft wood of the pine logs that made the walls of the stockade. The boys replied with accuracy, but they were careful not to waste their ammunition. At last the dawn broke clear, and with the first gleam of light the boys looked eagerly out to see if the enemy still held the hill.
“They have vamoosed,” said Juarez after making a careful reconnoissance. This was true, but the boys found that the fight was not yet entirely over, for when they appeared in full view on the hill there came a volley from the bank of the creek half a mile distant, which was the nearest shelter that could be obtained on that side.
The height of the hill made the first flight of bullets fall somewhat short, and, before the crowd could fire again, the boys had got out of danger and returned the fire with interest. They had the advantage, too, in firing down instead of up, and they kept the enemy close to cover.
About the middle of the morning there was a furious fusillade from both sides, the creek bank and the gully, against the stockade, which was beginning to show quite a scarred appearance. The boys replied with vigor; then suddenly the firing slackened and then ceased altogether.
“I believe they have quit,” declared Jo.
“I wouldn’t be too sure,” warned Jim.
“There they go up through those willows, near the creek,” said Juarez.