"If you were only upon the river in yonder flat boat," said Captain
Stephens, "you might drop quietly down to Battleford. The
reinforcement would come quite opportunely to Morrison."
"I do not care to leave here without giving the rebels a little of
our lead," the Inspector replied. "But even though I desired to do
so, now, the thing as you see is impossible."
Night fell, and when it came there was not a star in the sky. A
heavy mass of indigo-coloured cloud had risen before the set of sun,
in the south east, and crept slowly over the whole heavens, widening
its dark arms as it came. So when night fell there was not a point of
light to be seen anywhere in the heavens.
"It would seem," murmured one, "as if God were going to aid the
savages with His darkness."
Shortly after dark the wind began to wail like a tortured spirit
along the plain; and in the lull between the blasts the cry of
strange night-birds could be heard coining from each little thicket
of white oak or cottonwood.
Louder and louder grew the screaming of the tempest, and it shrieked
through the ribs of the stockade, like a Titan blowing through the
teeth of a giant comb.
Inspector Dicken, with Captain Stephens at his side, was standing at
the edge of the stockade. Not a sound came from the plateau, and not
a glimmer of light appeared in the darkness. Then the great, wide,
black night suddenly opened its jaws and launched forth an avalanche
of blinding, white light. The two men bounded in their places; then
came a roll of mighty thunder, as if it were moving on tremendous
wheels and destroying all the heavens.
No enemy yet!
But the besieged had hardly breathed their breath of relief, before
there arose upon the dark air, a din of sound so diabolical that you
might believe the gates of hell had suddenly been thrown open. From
every point around the fort went up a chorus of murderous yells, and
then came the irregular flash and crack from rifles.
The Inspector ran hastily back among his men: "Don't waste your ammunition," he said, "in the dark. Part of their
plan is to burn the fort. Wait till they fire the torches, and then
blaze at them in their own light."
Every man clenched his rifle, and the eyes of the brave band
glimmered in the dark.
Crack! crack! crack! went the rifles of the savages, and now and
again a sound, half like a snarl, and half like a sigh, went trailing
over the fort. It was from the Indians' bullets.
"Keep close, my men," shouted the Inspector; "down upon your faces."
Drawn off their guard by the silence of the besieged, the enemy
became more reckless, and lighting flambeaux of birch-bark, they
began to wave them above their heads. The spluttering glare showed
scores of savages, busy loading and discharging their rifles.