Otis James
Defending the Island: A story of Bar Harbor in 1758

CHAPTER IV.
AN ATTACK

When the women and smaller children were inside the dwelling, Mark said to his companions:

"It is better to have something in the way of work on hand than remain idle, and it has come into my mind that we might improve our condition if we raised the top of the stockade so that we could stand on the platforms without being seen by those outside."

"How would you set about it?" Luke asked, with mild curiosity.

"A heavy timber might be made fast to the top of the palisade, and, by making loopholes between the upper ends of the logs, we would be hidden from view, and at the same time be able to keep watch."

"Do you count that we should go after logs, taking the chances that the enemy will make a landing right away?"

"I intend to go alone, while you and Susan stand guard. Shout if you see a single boat putting off from the harbor island, and then I can get inside the enclosure before the enemy will be able to paddle over here."

Mark did not wait to learn if his companions had any criticism to make on his proposition, but set off in search of the axe without delay, and the others had no choice but to mount guard.

When the lad went through the gate he directed that it be barred behind him, lest there might be Indians in the thicket, and a few moments later it was possible to hear the sound of his sturdy blows as he felled the trees.

In less than half an hour he returned with a heavy log that had been squared on one side, and, after having been given admittance, he laid this on the posts above the platform on which Susan was stationed. By chopping either side of the uprights, close to the top, he made V-shaped apertures of sufficient size to admit of a musket-barrel being thrust through, thus forming five or six loopholes for the sentinel.

Therefore it was one could remain on the platform without being exposed to view of the enemy directly in front, and such shelter would be of great value to the defenders while the attacking party was a short distance away.

By means of wooden pins Mark secured the log in place, although not very firmly, and the three children who were to defend the stockade believed their position had been decidedly strengthened by such a device.

Another hour was spent in felling trees, fitting the timbers, and putting them in place. Then Mark occupied himself with making a careful examination of every portion of the palisade, after which, he said, with a long-drawn sigh:

"I can think of nothing else that is likely to improve the defences, and it only remains to wait until the enemy is ready to begin operations. What has been done aboard the schooner?"

"Many of the men have gone ashore on the harbor island," Luke replied. "The sails are furled, and everything snugged down as if for a long stay."

"Have you seen the Abenakis?"

"Two or three of them yet remain aboard the schooner; but the larger number are on shore."

Then Mark clambered up on one of the platforms, straining his eyes to learn what the strangers were doing with the hope of being able to make some guess as to when another attack would be made; but in this last he was unsuccessful. The men were lounging on the vessel, or ashore, as if their only purpose was to pass the time pleasantly, and utterly heedless as to whether they were seen by those inside the stockade.

"Whoever is in command of the Frenchmen will direct the next assault," Mark said, sufficiently loud to be heard by his companions at their several posts of duty. "It is known that we count on defending ourselves, and we may expect to see the entire force before us within the coming ten or twelve hours."

"What about the powder?" Luke asked.

"We have none too much; but enough, I believe, if we are careful in making every shot count, to last us during two assaults. After that, if we're alive, there'll be a short allowance."

"A boat is putting off from the schooner, and heading this way," Susan announced, and the boys gave no further heed as to speculations regarding the future, for it seemed as if the enemy was about to begin operations.

In a very short time, however, it could be understood that there was no danger of an immediate attack, for the craft coming shoreward from the vessel was a canoe in which were but three men.

The sentinels were unable to understand the meaning of this movement. It did not seem probable the enemy counted on boldly reconnoitering the island, nor was it reasonable to suppose any attack was to be made with so small a force, and Mark said, in perplexity:

"I can't make out why they are coming; but we'll be ready for whatever turn affairs may take."

"Shall we fire on them if they get too near?" Susan asked.

"Unless they claim to be friends, which isn't likely, we'll treat them exactly as we would the Abenakis, if they were bold enough to land in broad day," Mark replied, and, as assurance of his intentions, he made certain his musket was ready for immediate use.

The strangers paddled directly toward the spot where were kept the boats of the settlers, beached the canoe, and straightway approached the stockade, as friends might have done.

The three children on guard watched the newcomers curiously, until they were within fifty or sixty paces of the gate, and then Mark hailed:

"It will be safer to halt where you are until we understand the reason for this visit," he cried, showing himself above the palisade, with musket in hand.

"Are you in command of the stockade?" one of the visitors asked, as all three came to a full stop.

"Ay, for the time being."

"How many have you in garrison?" one of the newcomers asked, as he advanced a single pace, to show that he was authorized to act as spokesman for his party.

"That is for you to find out," Mark replied, with a smile. "You must take us for simples, if it is in your mind that we will give all the information demanded."

"I did not ask to gain information, for we know exactly the number of women and children here. I desired that you yourself should state it in order to the better understand how entirely you are at our mercy," The man said, and his manner of speech told that he was French.

"I do not need to repeat it, having seen your force, and knowing my own full well."

"Then you can understand that when I offer good quarter if you surrender without resistance, it should do away with any necessity for a conflict."

"Are you ready to give the same quarter your people promised at Falmouth, when the defenceless prisoners were murdered by you Frenchmen?" Mark cried, angrily.

"I give you my word of honor as a soldier, than no one shall be harmed if you surrender this place immediately," the officer replied, sharply.

"If I have heard rightly, the Baron de Castine gave the same pledge at Falmouth, and afterward excused himself by saying that he could not restrain the Indian allies," Mark said, stoutly. "Since then it is difficult to believe that French officers have any too much honor; otherwise, perhaps, they would not fight side by side with savages."

"Do you refuse to surrender?" the visitor asked, angrily.

"Ay, that I do, and all here are of the same mind with me. It is better to die fighting than be put to the torture by your allies, whom, mayhap, you could not restrain."

"My force is so large that you will be crushed in a twinkling, and, if you resist, no mercy may be expected. I have come in the effort to save your lives."

"Why should it be necessary?" Mark asked. "What have we done that you strive to take possession of our homes?"

"That is not a question to be discussed," the officer replied, impatiently. "It is my intention to clear this island of settlers, and I hope at such time to aid you."

"It is a brave piece of business to wait until our fathers have gone away, and then come here to fight women and children!" Susan cried, sharply. "Are all French officers so valiant?"

It was impossible for the visitor to see the speaker; but he knew from the voice that the words were uttered by a girl, and his face reddened, as he bit his lip to hold back a retort.

"I offer you good quarter, and to that pledge my word, if you submit at once," he said, after a brief pause. "In case you are so foolish as to dream of holding out against us, much loss of blood must ensue."

"That is bound to come," Mark replied, gravely. "We are resolved to hold this stockade as long as there is one left alive to fire a musket, and when you succeed in the noble work of murdering women and children, there will be none left alive for the savages, your very good friends, to torture."

"And that is your last word?" the officer asked, half-turning on his heel.

"The last," Mark replied.

The Frenchman stood irresolutely while one might have counted ten, and then, wheeling about, he marched toward the shore, looking back from time to time as if believing the young defenders might repent of having given such an answer.

"We have shut off all chance of making a bargain with them," Luke said, half to himself, and Susan replied, stoutly:

"It would have shamed me had Mark treated with them! Why should they offer us quarter? We have done nothing to warrant their making an attack upon us, and it is well they should hear the truth – that it is nothing less than murder. People don't make war in such a fashion as this!"

Mark gave no heed to what his companions were saying. His eyes were fixed on the canoe, in which the three men had embarked, and it was in his mind that when they regained the schooner there would be a decided change in the position of affairs.

And in this he was not mistaken; within half an hour the boats belonging to the schooner, and the canoes of the Indians, were engaged in transporting the men to the shore of Mount Desert, half a mile or more north of the stockade.

"There's one satisfaction to be had in arousing the Frenchman's temper," Mark said, grimly, when the work of disembarkation was well under way. "We won't need to expect a night attack, and hang around in suspense waiting for it, because the assault is to be begun some time before sunset. We had best get out our supply of ammunition, and warn the others that they will soon be needed."

It was Susan who went to summon her mother and aunt, and when she returned, carrying a heavy burden of powder and bullets, it was to report:

"The children are to be kept in the house, under charge of Ellen. The others will be here in a minute or two."

"They can't come any too soon," Luke said, nervously. "The Frenchmen are already marching along the shore, with the Abenakis trailing on behind."

Susan was at her post of duty in a twinkling, and, looking out through the rough loopholes, she saw no less than twenty white men, ten of whom were armed with muskets, and the others carrying pikes, the head of which glittered in the sun, marching in soldierly array down the beach. In their rear slouched nine Indians, and it was safe to assume that the remainder of the red-skinned party had been disabled during the first assault.

It was a positive relief to Mark when he saw that the enemy was intending to march directly upon the stockade, most likely counting on carrying the place by the first assault. If the force had been divided, so that a portion might attack from the rear at the same time the others were in front, the task of holding them in check would have been well-nigh hopeless.

Even as it was, with everything in the children's favor, it did not seem possible they could defend themselves against such a force; but Mark said, as if believing the chances for success were very good:

"Remember that we can't afford to waste any bullets. If each of us could hit the target three times in succession, I warrant you those valiant Frenchmen would be eager to gain the shelter of their vessel. Both of you can strike four squirrels out of five at fifty paces, and surely you should be able to do as well when the mark is so much larger and moving slowly. Don't shoot until you are certain of hitting your man, and we'll soon see those fellow's backs."

Mistress Pemberton and Mistress Harding had come to do their share in the one-sided battle. Both the women looked pale and distressed, as was but natural under the desperate circumstances; but a single glance at their faces would have told that they believed the only course to be a stout resistance, even though it should cost the lives of all.

At the shore, directly in front of the stockade, the Indians forced a halt of the white men, by seemingly insisting that some other method of procedure be adopted, and during two or three minutes it appeared as if they would carry their point.

Mark drew a long breath of relief, however, when the officer who had demanded the surrender pushed his way past the savages with a threatening gesture, as he ordered the men forward again.

"They are coming straight on in a body," he said, in a low tone. "When you are certain of hitting the mark, shoot, and have the second musket where it can be got at quickly. If we could get in six fair shots at the start, it would be a big advantage."

Each of the children on the platforms had two muskets loaded, and the women stood ready to take every weapon as soon as it was empty. The ammunition, divided into three portions, was near the sharpshooters, and nothing remained to be done save take part in the life or death struggle so near at hand.

Steadily the French marched toward the stockade, evidently intending to begin the attack near the gate, and it was Susan who fired the first shot.

As the report of her musket rang out, one of the foremost men plunged forward to the ground, and five seconds later Mark brought another of the enemy down.

Luke fired, but failed of doing execution. He seized the second musket hurriedly, however, and crippled his foe, thus doing half as much as Mark had required.

"Three down in four shots isn't so bad!" the leader cried, encouragingly, and the words were hardly more than spoken before both he and Susan fired the second time, each of the bullets finding its billet.

Now it was that the Frenchmen halted without the word of command, and opened fire.

During three or four minutes it was as if a perfect hail-storm of lead raged around the stockade, but the stout logs afforded good protection. Never a missile found its way inside, and the spirits of the besieged rose rapidly.

Acting under Mark's orders, neither Susan nor Luke had attempted to make reply to the furious shooting, lest a bullet accidentally come through one of the loopholes, and when, because their weapons were empty, the soldiers ceased the aimless firing, the children's muskets had been recharged.

"If we can do as well as we did before, those fellows will soon show their backs!" Mark cried, cheerily, himself setting the example by wounding the officer.

Now the bullets came thick and fast during a full minute, and then the foremost of the assailants began to fall back, carrying the officer with them, and an instant later the entire party was in full and disorderly retreat.

Three children had actually beaten back twenty white men and nine Indians, without having received a scratch!

Not until the faint-hearted men were at the water's edge, beyond range of those in the stockade, was a halt made, and then it appeared as if they were holding a council of war.

The officer was laid in one of the boats, and the soldiers gathered around him, the able-bodied gesticulating furiously, and the wounded seated on the sand attending to their injuries. None had been killed outright, but the majority of those who had been hit would not be likely to take part in another attack, unless it was delayed for a considerable time.

It seemed as if the white men gave but little attention to what the Indians said during this council, for the savages were shouldered aside with scant ceremony, and after a few moments all the Abenakis, for none had been wounded, stalked gravely southward, where they were soon lost to view amid the bushes.

"We're going to have trouble from those fellows, and it won't be long coming," Mark said, as he leaped down from the platform, and ran toward that portion of the stockade immediately in the rear of the dwellings. "Keep a sharp watch over the Frenchmen, and let me know what they are doing!"

Then he began putting up a platform at that point where he could overlook the thicket, which last had been allowed to grow dangerously near the buildings, and had hardly mounted for the purpose of making a hasty survey, when a bullet imbedded itself in one of the posts against which he leaned.

"What is the matter?" Susan cried.

"The Abenakis have sneaked around here, where they can shoot while remaining under cover. Let mother come to load my muskets!"

The report of Mark's weapon followed the words, and from the thicket two or three muskets were discharged, thus showing that the entire force of Indians was lurking amid the underbrush.

Susan came running toward her cousin, carrying a weapon in each hand, and the latter asked, sharply:

"Why have you left your post? The Abenakis won't kick up much of a row until after dark."

"There is nothing to be done at the other side," Susan replied, as she set about dragging two or three lobster-pots toward the palisade. "The Frenchmen are paddling back to the schooner, not leaving one behind, and Luke is watching to see when they leave the vessel again."

Another bullet from the Thicket whistled uncomfortably near Mark's head, and he understood that the most dangerous portion of the attack was now to be met, for it was impossible to see a single foe. The swaying of the branches or the tiny curls of smoke, were the only tokens of an enemy, save when a weapon was discharged.

"Keep down under cover!" Mark cried, when Susan would have mounted the collection of lobster-pots. "They are shooting close, and if you should be disabled we would be in even worse trouble than we are now."

"But you are showing them a target."

"Some one must be here to hold them back."¹¹

"Then I have the same right as you," and the courageous girl clambered up on the shaky platform until it was possible for her to look over the palisade.

It was a most dangerous position, and, fearing lest she should be killed, Mark left his station to chop away the ends of the posts to make loopholes.

"Now you can have a view of the woods without showing yourself," he said, and would have gone back to his previous position, exposed though it was, but that she stopped him by asking:

"Will you do the same at your end of the fence as you have here?"

"There isn't so much need for me to keep under cover."

"There is ten times more reason why you should be careful than for me to skulk behind the posts. Unless you hew the timbers at your station as you have these, I shall change places with you."

Mistress Pemberton added her commands to Susan's entreaties, with the result that Mark was forced to protect himself so far as possible, but while he chopped at the posts half a dozen bullets struck close around the axe, showing that the Indians were on the alert.

When half an hour had passed neither Mark nor Susan had seen one of their enemies. Several times they fired at the places where the branches were waving as if some person was walking beneath them; but no cry of pain was heard to tell that the bullet had taken effect.

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 mass 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."