est shot of
them all. I give him that credit. But they're all good. Look out!
There goes another of our men! It was Ross who did that! I tell you, be
careful! Be careful!"

It was an Onondaga who fell this time, and he lay with his head on the
window sill until another Indian pulled him inside. A minute later a
Tory, who peeped guardedly for a shot, received a bullet through his
head, and sank down on the floor. A sort of terror spread among the
others. What could they do in the face of such terrible sharpshooting?
It was uncanny, almost superhuman, and they looked stupidly at one
another. Smoke from their own firing had gathered in the room, and it
formed a ghastly veil about their faces. They heard the crash of the
rifles outside from every point, but no help came to them.

"We're bound to do something!" exclaimed Wyatt. "Here you, Jones, stick
up the edge of your cap, and when they fire at it I'll put a bullet in
the man who pulls the trigger."

Jones thrust up his cap, but they knew too much out there to be taken
in by an old trick. The cap remained unhurt, but when Jones in his
eagerness thrust it higher until he exposed his arm, his wrist was
smashed in an instant by a bullet, and he fell back with a howl of pain.
Wyatt swore and bit his lips savagely. He and all of them began to fear
that they were in another and tighter trap, one from which there was no
escape unless the Iroquois outside drove off the riflemen, and of that
they could as yet see no sign. The sharpshooters held their place behind
the embankment and the little outhouse, and so little as a finger, even,
at the windows became a sure mark for their terrible bullets. A Seneca,
seeking a new trial for a shot, received a bullet through the shoulder,
and a Tory who followed him in the effort was slain outright.

The light hitherto had been from the fires, but now the dawn was coming.
Pale gray beams fell over the town, and then deepened into red and
yellow. The beams reached the room where the beleaguered remains of
Wyatt's band fought, but, mingling with the smoke, they gave a new and
more ghastly tint to the desperate faces.

"We've got to fight!" exclaimed Wyatt. "We can't sit here and be taken
like beasts in a trap! Suppose we unbar the doors below and make a rush
for it?"

Coleman shook his head. "Every one of us would be killed within twenty
yards," he said.

"Then the Iroquois must come back," cried Wyatt. "Where is Joe Brant?
Where is Tim