During this time Luke had reported more than once that the Frenchmen yet remained on board their vessel, and when the sun was sinking behind the hills Mark said to his cousin:

"We're wasting too much powder and lead, Sue. I don't believe one of our bullets has gone home, and we have sent far too many at random.

The Frenchmen are not beaten yet, and we must have plenty of ammunition when they come again."

"What, then, are we to do?"

"I will stay here, keeping guard lest the Abenakis attempt to scale the fence. You and our mothers shall attend to the household duties, holding yourselves in readiness to come whenever I shout."

"But there is nothing for me to do in the house."

"Then take advantage of the opportunity to get a little rest, for it is certain that we shall have our hands full during all this night. Get supper, if nothing more, and then bring me something to drink."

"I'll do that first, and then look after myself," Susan said, as she went toward the house, and a moment later Mark heard from her a cry of distress.

"What's the matter?" he shouted, wildly, fearing, for the instant, that some of the savages had gained entrance to the dwelling despite his careful watch.

"The water! The water!" Susan cried, mournfully, and then came a hum of voices raised high in excitement and fear, amid which the sentinel could distinguish no words.

"Come here, Susan!" Mark shouted, peremptorily, and as the girl appeared he demanded, "Now tell me what has gone wrong?"

"The children have spilled all the water we took into the house, and there's not a drop to be had!"

"But they couldn't have carried the spring away," Mark replied, with a laugh, able to make merry even amid the terrible surroundings, so great was his relief at learning that nothing more serious had caused the cry which startled him.

"The sheep have gathered there, until the entire place is a ma.s.s of filthy mud."

"Well, well, don't let that distress you so sorely. We'll soon be able to clear it out, for I reckon these beggarly Abenakis won't keep me busy more than twelve hours."

"But if the Frenchmen should come in the meantime?"

"We'll take our chances of that, and get along without water a little while."

CHAPTER V.

FIRE

Mark was disposed to make light of that which distressed Susan, and thus did he make his first mistake in the defence.

To his mind there was nothing very serious in the loss of the water which had been carried into the dwelling, because the spring was within the stockade, and however much mischief the sheep had done, it would be the work of but few moments to put everything in proper order once more.

The chief thought in his mind was regarding the possible trouble which the Abenakis might make while hidden in the thicket back of the palisade, and, after this, the fear that the ablest of his a.s.sistants might become disabled because of her wound, which had not received the attention such an injury required.

Therefore it was he said to Susan speaking almost sharply to the end that she might feel forced to obey without argument:

"The first thing for you to look after is that wound. Have your mother dress it once more while you can be spared from the palisade." Then, seeing that she hesitated, he added, "It is necessary for the safety of all that you look after yourself, because if you were disabled, we would be in most serious plight, you being the best marksman among us."

Susan hesitated no longer; but went toward the house, even though she did not believe it necessary to give very much attention to her arm, which was not so badly injured but that she could use it with comparative ease.

When she had disappeared within the dwelling, Mark, watching through the loophole for a target, cried to his brother:

"How is everything over your way, Luke?"

"There has been no change. The Frenchmen are sticking close to their vessel."

"I reckon it would be safe for you to come here a few minutes. I'll send Mary to take your place."

The lad obeyed promptly, and, after cautioning him not to expose himself to the aim of the enemy, although it was essential he keep close lookout over the thicket, Mark went toward the spring.

The damage done by the sheep was greater than he had supposed. The earth in the immediate vicinity had been ploughed up by the feet of the animals until the spring was nearly choked, and Mark realized that a full hour's work would be required to repair the mischief.

"We can't spend much time at it while the Abenakis are in the woods," he said to himself. "Later in the might, perhaps, I shall have a chance to do the job."

Then he went to where Mary was taking Luke's place as sentinel near the gate, instructing her to raise an alarm immediately she saw any movement on the part of the Frenchmen.

"Keep your eyes open wide," he said, "and, while watching the schooner, give some attention to what may be going on close at hand.

I don't believe the Indians will come out of the thicket to show themselves where no shelter can be found. But, at the same time, it is possible. Remember that all our lives might pay the forfeit of your carelessness."

"You can trust me as you do Susan, although I can't shoot so well; but my eyes are as good as hers."

"True for you, sister mine, and between now and morning I'm counting on your doing a full share of standing guard."

Then Mark ascended the platform for one look at the vessel, which remained at her moorings with but few men showing on deck, after which he went into the dwelling, where his mother was preparing supper.

Susan's arm was being rebandaged, after having been bound up with simples which had been gathered in the woods against just such an emergency, and the smaller children were huddled in one corner like frightened sheep.

"I have left Luke in my place," the lad said, in reply to his mother's question. "The Abenakis are taking good care to keep out of sight, and it is only a waste of ammunition to fire at a waving bush or curl of smoke. I'll get something to eat, now that I'm here, and then go on duty again."

Susan declared she would stand watch near the gate, in order that Mary might take care of the children, and to that end ate supper with Mark, after which the two went out to their weary, dangerous vigil once more, with the disheartening knowledge that there was no probability of receiving aid from any quarter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Susan's arm was being rebandaged.]

"We won't talk about it, Sue," Mark said, when his cousin bewailed the fact that even though a fishing-vessel should pa.s.s near at hand, her crew would not come ash.o.r.e when it was seen that the _Future Hopes_ had left her anchorage. "We can't afford to look on the dark side of affairs, lest we grow faint-hearted, for you know that, once our courage is gone, we are the same as beaten."

Susan did not reply, as she might have done with truth, that they were then very nearly in that deplorable condition; but shut her teeth tightly as if to prevent the escape of a single word, while she walked rapidly toward the gate to take her station as sentinel.

Mary begged to stand guard an hour or two longer; but Susan insisted that she was needed in the house, and reluctantly the girl descended from the platform.

Then Mark relieved Luke from duty, instructing him to first get his supper, and then, if the Indians remained inactive, to set about cleaning out the spring.

By this time the night had fully come, and Mark noted with apprehension that clouds were gathering in the sky. While the moon shone brightly it was as easy to guard against surprise as at noonday; but once that light was obscured, the enemy might creep up at a dozen places on the palisade without being detected.

"Two hours of blackness, and we are done for," Mark said to himself, with a sigh, and then, remembering what he had told Susan, he added, "We've got to take whatever comes, and the only manly way is to make the best of it. In case it is very dark to-night, Mary and Ellen must both stand watch with the rest of us."

The report of a musket interrupted his train of gloomy thoughts, and involuntarily he ducked his head when a bullet came singing over the fence so near that he felt the "wind" of it.