his son
John, Mr. Pike and his son, were out in the field reaping wheat, their
guns close at hand. Mr. Kilburn had trained his dog to scour the woods,
and the faithful animal ever had his eyes and ears open, and was
sniffing the wind if a wolf or bear was about. On this afternoon in
August the dog came running in with his hair in a ruff, and growling.

"Indians," said Mr. Kilburn. The men and boys seized their guns, ran for
the house, and had just time to get inside and bar the door when Captain
Philip and nearly two hundred Indians made their appearance.

The Indians staid at a safe distance, and so did Captain Philip, though
he came near enough to talk.

"Come out, old John! come out, young John! I give you good quarter," he
shouted.

[Illustration: THE DEFENSE OF THE CABIN--DRAWN BY A. B. SHULTS.]

There were only the two men, the two boys, Mrs. Kilburn and her daughter
and four children, in the house, with three hundred Indians attacking
them, but John Kilburn was not in the least frightened--not he. Neither
was Mrs. Kilburn, nor her son or daughter. They had several extra guns;
Mrs. Kilburn and her daughter knew how to load them. They would rather
die than be taken prisoners. The Indians had no cannon, and their
bullets would not go through the stout timbers. Only by burning the
house would they be able to get in.

"Get you gone, you rascal, or I'll quarter you!" was the defiant answer
that John Kilburn shouted through one of the loop-holes to Captain
Philip, as the latter went back to the dark crowd of savages, who set up
the war-whoop.

"They yell like so many devils," said John Kilburn; but he was not in
the least disturbed by the howling.

Then the bullets began to come through the shingles on the roof, and
strike against the timbers.

The Indians surrounded the house, but there were loop-holes on each
side. Mr. Kilburn and Mr. Pike took two of the sides, and the two boys
the others. Bang! bang! went the guns of Mr. Kilburn and Mr. Pike. Bang!
bang! went the boys' guns. They could fire at a rest, and take
deliberate aim. The Indians could not see the muzzles of the guns, and
the moment one of the red men peeped from behind a tree his skull was in
danger.

One by one they fell, which enraged them all the more, and they crept
nearer, firing rapidly, riddling the shingles, hoping, quite likely,
that a bullet might glance down from the roof, and hit those inside.

"The roof looks like a sieve," said