barked, and a man's quick voice gave a
command. The sounds stung me into remembrance, and I was at the window
while the voice was yet speaking.

It was West in the street below, pointing with his sword now to the
fort, now to the palisade, and giving directions to the armed men about
him. There were many people in the street. Women hurried by to the
fort with white, scared faces, their arms filled with household gear;
children ran beside them, sturdily bearing their share of the goods, but
pressing close to their elders' skirts; men went to and fro, the most
grimly silent, but a few talking loudly. Not all of the faces in the
crowd belonged to the town: there were Kingsmell and his wife from the
main, and John Ellison from Archer's Hope, and the Italians Vincencio
and Bernardo from the Glass House. The nearer plantations, then, had
been warned, and their people had come for refuge to the city. A negro
passed, but on that morning, alone of many days, no Indian aired his
paint and feathers in the white man's village.

I could not see the palisade across the neck, but I knew that it was
there that the fight--if fight there were--would be made. Should the
Indians take the palisade, there would yet be the houses of the town,
and, last of all, the fort in which to make a stand. I believed not that
they would take it. Long since we had found out their method of warfare.
They used ambuscade, surprise, and massacre; when withstood in force and
with determination they withdrew to their stronghold the forest, there
to bide their time until, in the blackness of some night, they could
again swoop down upon a sleeping foe.

The drum beat again, and a messenger from the palisade came down the
street at a run. "They're in the woods over against us, thicker than
ants!" he cried to West as he passed. "A boat has just drifted ashore
yonder, with two men in it, dead and scalped!"

I turned to leave the room, and ran against Master Pory coming in on
tiptoe, with a red and solemn face. He started when he saw me.

"The roll of the drum brought you to your feet, then!" he cried. "You've
lain like the dead all night. I came but to see if you were breathing."

"When I have eaten, I shall be myself again," I said. "There's no attack
as yet?"

"No," he answered. "They must know that we are prepared. But they
have kindled fires along the river bank, and we can hear them yelling.
Whether they'll be mad enough to come against us remains to be