The body of Mrs. Arnold was borne to the cellar by the sorrowing
husband, accompanied by the weeping children. The firing became
desultory and without apparent effect. Ball and arrow could not pierce
the thick walls of the log-house; only through the loop-holes could a
missile enter, and by rare good-fortune none of the defenders, after
the first casualty, chanced to be in line when one did.
The family again assembled in defence of their home and lives, the
grave necessity of keeping off the impending danger banishing, in a
measure, the thoughts of their bereavement. An ominous silence on the
part of the Indians was broken at last by the swish of a blazing arrow
to the roof. Mr. Arnold rushed to the garret, and with the butt of his
rifle broke a hole in the covering and flung the little torch to the
ground.
But another and another burning arrow followed, and in spite of
desperate and vigilant action the pine shingles burst into flames in
several places. At this juncture Henry, whose station was on the south
side of the house, approached Mr.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244