THE FIGHT IN THE CABIN
there was a sharp barking of guns, the cabin filling with powder smoke. What followed was all confusion, only here and there a distinct impression remaining on my memory. I was at the door with one leap, staring out revolver in hand. Men were running toward us on foot, yelling and firing as they came. Amid the smoke clouds I could distinguish their forms, but not their faces, yet directly in front, were a number bunched together, and bearing, slung between them, a huge timber. Their purpose was evident: here was the battering-ram to break down the door; one blow from this would render further defence impossible.
"Those fellows with the log!" I cried. "Drop them! never mind the others."
We poured a volley directly into the bunch, and three fell, the front end of the timber striking the ground. From every side the fire aimed at the cabin converged to the opening where we stood. Bullets crashed into the lower half of the door, and whistled past us to find lodgment in the further wall. O'Brien swore, and went stumbling backward; Daniels's youngest had a livid mark across his forehead and sank to the floor, his face in his hands. Maria grabbed his gun and let drive beside me. I could hear the deep barks of the older lad's rifle through the crack in the window. To attempt resisting the force attacking us was madness; but, back beyond the halted rammers, I caught a glimpse of Dunn, urging the men forward. The sight of the fellow robbed me of all judgment, left me reckless and desperate. He was beyond range of my revolver, but I emptied it into the
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