For some time the noise continued, as bundle after bundle of dried
wood was thrown down by the door. The garrison were silent; for, as
Pearson said, they could see nothing, and a stray bullet might enter
at the loop-holes if they placed themselves there, and the flashes of
the guns would serve as marks for the Indians.

Presently two or three faint lights were seen approaching.

"Now," Pearson said, "pick 'em off as they come up. You and I'll take
the first man, Welch. You fire just to the right of the light, I will
fire to the left; he may be carrying the brand in either hand."

They fired together, and the brand was seen to drop to the ground.
The same thing happened as the other two sparks of light approached;
then it was again quiet. Now a score of little lights flashed through
the air.

"They're going to light the pile with their flaming arrows," Pearson
said. "War Eagle is a good leader."

Three or four of the arrows fell on the pile of dry wood. A moment
later the flames crept up and the smoke of burning wood rolled up
into the room above. A yell of triumph burst from the Indians, but
this changed into one of wrath as those above emptied the contents of
one of the great tubs of water on to the pile of wood below them. The
flames were instantly extinguished.

"What will they do next?" Mrs. Welch asked.

"It's like enough," Pearson replied, "that they'll give the job up