in making the attempt.

Even in this exciting moment, the Texan could not help asking himself
the question which he had asked many times before: why did not the
redskins set fire to the side of the house, where they were involved in
no such peril as now? They might have gathered several armfuls of
combustibles, and, heaping them against the wooden walls, fire them at
their leisure, but, for some reason, they preferred to climb upon the
roof, and run the risk of colliding with the courageous Dinah or her
fearless master.

In doing as they did, the Comanches were shrewder than would be
supposed. It is true that the narrow windows commanded only one side of
the cabin, and that the attempt spoken of brought little if any danger
to themselves. In fact, as afterward was learned, they did their best to
set fire to the rear, and at the end, but the timber was so damp that
the flames failed to communicate. The long continued drought affected
the walls to a far less degree than the roof, where the sun had free
play day after day. Had there been a driving storm, the top would have
been less favorable than the walls, but from the causes named it lost
its moisture much more readily.

Besides, the flames on the roof could not be reached as readily nor with
so much safety by the defenders as at the sides. They naturally believed
there was plenty of water at command. The moment the fire should begin
to show through the crevices in the timbers, this could be dashed
against the other side and brought into play.

It was different on the roof, which could not be reached so well. There
may have been other motives influencing the Comanches in the first
instance, such as supposing that the whites, having once repulsed the
attempt, would not look for its repetition, since the Indians must
expose themselves to the greatest possible peril.

However, without speculating as to their reasons, the fact remained that
a second Indian was rising like an apparition above the eaves, with the
evident intention of trying to repair the failure of his companion a
short time before.

Captain Shirril felt that it would have been better had he stayed where
he was; for, with his head just above the level of the scuttle, he could
have picked off the wretch the very moment he became aware of his
presence.

But now, while creeping so guardedly along the roof, he had held his
rifle by the barrel, with most of the weapon behind him. Had it been
discharged,