"Fire, boys, fire!" cried the captain; while shots rang out from the front. The boys fired, Tim directing his two charges through the ceiling, where he imagined enemies to be lying, the others firing through the loophole.

There was the customary rush overhead, the sound of falls, fierce yelling, as a pair of spears struck the house, and Norman uttered a sharp cry.

"Any one hurt?" cried the captain, excitedly. "Marian, aunt, go and see. I can't leave here."

"No: not hurt," shouted Norman. "Spear came through the loophole, pa.s.sed through my shirt and under my arm."

"Thrust or thrown?" cried Uncle Jack.

"Thrown," was the reply, as the hissing of wads driving out confined air, and the thudding of ramrods were heard.

"They know Shanter isn't here," whispered Rifle, as he finished his loading. "They've killed him, and that's what makes them so fierce."

He seemed to be right, for the defenders pa.s.sed a cruel night; but morning dawned, and the enemy had not gained a single advantage more than before.

That morning was devoted to nailing planks all over the roof, for fortunately they were plentiful. Others were nailed across the doors, back and front, just leaving room for people to creep in and out; and this being done, the captain took the gla.s.s once more to scour their surroundings; while Sam German and the boys fetched water and wood, fulfilling Shanter's duties, till an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n from the captain made them look up.

"The wretches! They have speared or driven off all the horses, boys; we must get a sheep killed for provender, or we may not have another chance. There, work and get done. You must all have some rest before night."

Norman was just going into the house as the captain spoke these words, and the boy turned away from the door to get round to the side, where he could be alone. He had been about to join his mother and the girls, but his father's words brought a despairing feeling upon him, and he dared not meet them for fear they should read his thoughts.

"What's the matter, Man?" said a voice behind him. "Ill?"

It was Rifle who spoke, and Norman turned so ghastly a face to him that the boy was shocked.

"Here, let me fetch father," he said.

"No, no; stop! I shall be better directly."

"But what was it?"

"The horses--the horses!"

"Oh, don't make a fuss about them. We've got to think of ourselves. We can get some more horses, I daresay."

"Yes, but not when we want them," said Norman, angrily. "Can't you see: they were our last chance."

Rifle stared.

"What--you mean?" he faltered.

"Of course. Father would have stayed here to the last to try to protect the home he has made, but when things came to the worst, we should have had to mount some morning and gallop off."

In spite of the peril they were in, Rifle laughed.

"Get out!" he cried. "You would never have got Aunt Georgie upon a horse."

"Can't you be serious for a minute," cried Norman, angrily. "Don't you see that our last chance has gone?"

"No," said Rifle, st.u.r.dily. "Not a bit of it. We've only been firing duck and swan shot so far. Now, I'm going to ask father if we hadn't better fire ball. Come on. Don't grump over a few horses. We don't want to ride away and be hunted for days by black fellows."

"Where are you going?"

"To get in that sheep while we can. Perhaps to-morrow they'll be driven farther away."

Norman nodded, and looked hard at his brother, for he could not help admiring his st.u.r.dy courage.

"We're going now, father," cried Rifle.

"Well, take care. Creep along by the fence, keeping it between you and the scrub there. Get round the sheep, and drive all before you till they are close in here. Then pounce upon two and hold on. We'll come and help you."

The task looked risky, for the sheep were a couple of hundred yards away, and it was felt that the blacks were in the scrub. But they had not shown themselves, and might be a sleep, or so far away that the bold dash made by the boys would be unseen. But all the same the captain and Uncle Jack covered their advance, ready with loaded guns to protect the boys should the blacks make any sign.

The arrangement seemed to be unnecessary, for the two lads, carrying their pieces at the trail, reached the fence, under whose cover they went out quite a hundred yards. Then halting and carefully scanning the nearest patch of scrub, they rose and walked fast, partly away from the sheep, so as to be well beyond them before they turned to their left, got behind, and drove them gently toward the house.

All this had to be done slowly and deliberately so as not to startle the flock, but, as Rifle said, it was ticklish work.

"Yes. I expect to see black heads starting up every moment," whispered Norman. "Now then, we're far enough. Quickly and steadily. Come along."

The boys bore round to their left so as to be between the sheep and the open country, and the outsiders of the flock began to move before them without taking alarm, stopping to munch a bit of gra.s.s now and then, and causing others to move in turn; till, as the boys walked on, they at last had their backs to the scrub and the sheep going steadily toward the house.

"Wasn't so difficult after all," said Rifle, quietly. "Couldn't we pen three or four? Why is father signalling?"

"Hi! look out!" shouted Norman, for he had seen his father waving one hand excitedly; and casting an eye back there were twenty or thirty spear-armed savages just darting out of the scrub, and running swiftly in pursuit.

The sight of the enemy made the boys start forward at once; the sheep began to trot, then increased their pace as the boys ran faster, and, dividing into two little flocks, tore past north and south of the house and enclosures, in front of which stood the captain and Uncle Jack, with Sam German running out to their support.

"Quick, boys!" shouted the captain. "Run on and get under cover."

At that moment Rifle saw Tim at the door of the house waving his hands, and to the boys' horror there was the reason: another crowd of black figures were racing up from the trees and bushes down by the river.

But they, like the other party, had a good distance to come, and the issue was never for a moment doubtful.

One incident, though, made the captain shout angrily.

Just in those exciting moments Mrs Bedford ran out of the house, and would have gone on in her dread and horror toward where her husband and sons seemed to her to be in deadly peril; but Tim flung his arms about her, and held her in spite of her struggles.

It was a matter of very few moments.

As the one part of the sheep ran by the front, and seeing the blacks advancing, galloped off to avoid them, Norman and Rifle reached the fences, turned, and stood ready to cover the captain and Uncle Jack, shouting the while to Tim to get Mrs Bedford in.

At the cry from Norman, Sam German too had turned, run back past the house door, and stood facing the blacks advancing from the other direction.

"In with you all: run!" roared the captain, as he and his brother now fell back rapidly, guarding the front as Mrs Bedford was dragged in through the narrow opening; the boys followed, and, thanks to their military training, each as he got through the partly nailed up doorway, took a place at the side with gun levelled to protect the next comer.

It was close work.

Uncle Jack was the next in; then Sam German; and four guns were protruding over his head as the captain dashed up with the rapid beat of the blacks' feet very close on either side.