This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
82
MARCHING ON NIAGARA

meantime the work of strengthening the defense went on steadily, a laborer only quitting when he found it necessary to lie down for a few hours' sleep.

The Indians had gone out, the thorn-brush had been piled high in the gateway, and for the time being there seemed nothing for the pioneers to do but to sit down and await developments. Several campfires were burning and over these a morning meal was cooked, to which all but one or two invalids did ample justice. The assemblage divided itself into half a dozen groups, each talking in a low tone of the prospects.

The Morrises were chiefly concerned over the fate of Henry. When she thought of her boy perhaps murdered and scalped the bitter tears of anguish rolled down Mrs. Morris's cheeks, and the little the others could do to cheer her up was of no avail.

"From what Dave says there must have been a fierce fight," she moaned. "And more than likely our poor dear Henry got the worst of it. We'll never see the brave boy again!" And her tears burst forth afresh.

"I would go on a hunt for him, only I know it would be next to useless," returned her husband. "Besides, at such a time as this I feel my place is at your side, and with Nell, Rodney, and Dave." And she had to admit that this was true.