e last called piteously for
water, and gazed with longing eyes at the limitless expanse of the
lake, so near at hand and yet so hopelessly remote. By sunset the
well-diggers were in moist earth, before nine o'clock the wounded were
eagerly quaffing a muddy liquid that gave them new life, and by
midnight two feet of water stood in the well.
During the night, although the enemy's fire was slackened, it never
entirely ceased. Balls of blazing pitch were discharged at frequent
intervals, and no moment of rest was allowed the weary garrison. At
daybreak, exulting cries from the rear, and a ruddy glow, announced
some new cause for anxiety. In a few minutes the worst was known. The
underground approach had been advanced as far as Christie's quarters,
which were immediately set on fire. Only a narrow space separated this
building from the blockhouse, and with the fierce blaze of its pine
logs the stifling heat in the latter became almost unsupportable. It
seemed to the men that the time to yield had come; but their commander
was not yet ready to acknowledge the situation as hopeless. Even when
the scorched and smoking walls of their prison house burst into flame,
he only bade them work the harder, and inspired them by his own
heroism. Thanks to the new well, they succeeded in holding the flames
in check until the blazing building that had threatened them finally
sank into a mass of glowing embers, and their little fortress still
stood intact.
With the reaction following this supreme effort, many of the men again
gave way to despair. All were sickened by the great heat, the stifling
smoke, and the exhaustion of twenty-four hours of continuous fighting.
Donald held to his strength better than any, because from his perilous
position on the roof he could at least breathe pure air; while
Christie, who fought beside his men, was so upheld by his indomitable
will that he would not acknowledge fatigue.
So the defence was maintained, until the second day of incessant toil,
fighting, and hoping against hope for relief, dragged out its weary
length, and darkness once more brooded over Presque Isle. From behind
the breastworks rifles flashed incessantly until midnight, when the
firing ceased, and from out of the darkness a voice hailed the fort in
English.
"What is wanted?" demanded Christie.
"You are called upon to surrender," answered the voice, "since further
resistance is useless."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then y
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