"Better there than in our ribs. But you are right. Stand back for a moment and let me have that loop—I shall waste no shot. Ha! I see—there is one—I see his arm and the edge of his hatchet—it rests upon his shoulder, I reckon, but that is concealed by the brush. He moves—he comes out, and slaps his hands against his thigh. The red devil, but he shall have it. Get ready now, each at his loop, for if I hurt him they will rush out in fury."
The sharp click of the cock followed the words of Grayson, who was an able shot, and the next moment the full report came burdened with a dozen echoes from the crowding woods around. A cry of pain—then a shout of fury and the reiterated whoop followed; and as one of their leaders reeled and sank under the unerring bullet, the band in that station, as had been predicted by Grayson, rushed forth to where he stood, brandishing their weapons with ineffectual fury and lifting their wounded comrade, as is their general custom, to bear him to a place of concealment and preserve him from being scalped, by secret burial in the event of his being dead. They paid for their temerity. Following the direction of their leader, whose decision necessarily commanded their obedience, the Carolinians took quite as much advantage of the exposure of their enemies as the number of the loopholes in that quarter of the building would admit. Five muskets told among the group, and a reiterated shout of fury indicated the good service which the discharge had done and taught the savages a lesson of prudence which, in the present instance, they had been too ready to disregard. They sank back into cover, taking care however to remove their hurt companions, so that, save by the peculiar cry which marks a loss among them, the garrison were unable to determine what had been the success of their discharges. Having driven them back into the brush, however, without loss to themselves, the latter were now sanguine, where, only
