Even our Iroquois are glad to be under a roof."Henry still gazed in at the crack with eyes that were lighted up by an angry fire.So here was more talk of destruction and slaughter! His gaze alighted upon an Indian who sat in a corner engaged upon a task.Henry looked more closely, and saw that he was stretching a blonde-haired scalp over a small hoop.Ashudder shook his whole frame.Only those who lived amid such scenes could understand the intensity of his feelings.He felt, too, a bitter sense of injustice.The doers of these deeds were here in warmth and comfort, while the innocent were dead or fugitives.He turned away from the window, stepping gently upon the snowshoes.He inferred that the remainder of Wyatt's band were quartered in the other house from which he had seen the smoke rising.It was about twenty rods away, but he did not examine it, because a great idea had been born suddenly in his brain.The attempt to fulfill the idea would be accompanied by extreme danger, but he did not hesitate a moment.He stole gently to one of the half-fallen outhouses and went inside.Here he found what he wanted, a large pine shelf that had been sheltered from rain and that was perfectly dry.He scraped off a large quantity of the dry pine until it formed almost a dust, and he did not cease until he had filled his cap with it.Then he cut off large splinters, until he had accumulated a great number, and after that he gathered smaller pieces of half-burned pine.
He was fully two hours doing this work, and the night advanced far, but he never faltered.His head was bare, but he was protected from the wind by a fragment of the outhouse wall.
Every two or three minutes he stopped and listened for the sound of a creaking, sliding footstep on the snow, but, never hearing any, he always resumed his work with the same concentration.All the while the wind rose and moaned through the ruins of the little village.When Henry chanced to raise his head above the sheltering wall, it was like the slash of a knife across his cheek.
Finally he took half of the pine dust in his cap and a lot of the splinters under his arm, and stole back to the house from which the light had shone.He looked again through the crevice at the window.The light had died down much more, and both Wyatt and Coleman were asleep on the floor.But several of the Iroquois were awake, although they sat as silent and motionless as stones against the wall.
Henry moved from the window and selected a sheltered spot beside the plank wall.There he put the pine dust in a little heap on the snow and covered it over with pine splinters, on top of which he put larger pieces of pine.Then he went back for the remainder of the pine dust, and built a similar pyramid against a sheltered side of the second house.
The most delicate part of his task had now come, one that good fortune only could aid him in achieving, but the brave youth, his heart aflame with righteous anger against those inside, still pursued the work.His heart throbbed, but hand and eye were steady.
Now came the kindly stroke of fortune for which he had hoped.
The wind rose much higher and roared harder against the house.
It would prevent the Iroquois within, keen of ear as they were, from hearing a light sound without.Then he drew forth his flint and steel and struck them together with a hand so strong and swift that sparks quickly leaped forth and set fire to the pine tinder.Henry paused only long enough to see the flame spread to the splinters, and then he ran rapidly to the other house, where the task was repeated-he intended that his job should be thorough.
Pursuing this resolve to make his task complete, he came back to the first house and looked at his fire.It had already spread to the larger pieces of pine, and it could not go out now.The sound made by the flames blended exactly with the roaring of the wind, and another minute or two might pass before the Iroquois detected it.
Now his heart throbbed again, and exultation was mingled with his anger.By the time the Iroquois were aroused to the danger the flames would be so high that the wind would reach them.Then no one could put them out.
It might have been safer for him to flee deep into the forest at once, but that lingering desire to make his task complete and, also, the wish to see the result kept him from doing it.He merely walked across the open space and stood behind a tree at the edge of the forest.
Braxton Wyatt and his Tories and Iroquois were very warm, very snug, in the shelter of the old house with the great bed of coals before them.They may even have been dreaming peaceful and beautiful dreams, when suddenly an Iroquois sprang to his feet and uttered a cry that awoke all the rest.
"I smell smoke!" he exclaimed in his tongue, "and there is fire, too! I hear it crackle outside!"Braxton Wyatt ran to the window and jerked it open.Flame and smoke blew in his face.He uttered an angry cry, and snatched at the pistol in his belt.
"The whole side of the house is on fire!" he exclaimed."Whose neglect has done this?"Coleman, shrewd and observing, was at his elbow.
"The fire was set on the outside," he said."It was no carelessness of our men.Some enemy has done this!""It is true!" exclaimed Wyatt furiously."Out, everybody! The house burns fast!"There was a rush for the door.Already ashes and cinders were falling about their heads.Flames leaped high, were caught by the roaring winds, and roared with them.The shell of the house would soon be gone, and when Tories and Iroquois were outside they saw the remainder of their band pouring forth from the other house, which was also in flames.
No means of theirs could stop so great a fire, and they stood in a sort of stupefaction, watching it as it was fanned to greatest heights by the wind.
All the remaining outbuildings caught, also, and in a few moments nothing whatever would be left of the tiny village.Braxton Wyatt and his band must lie in the icy wilderness, and they could never use this place as a basis for attack upon settlements.
"How under the sun could it have happened?" exclaimed Wyatt.
"It didn't happen.It was done," said Coleman."Somebody set these houses on fire while we slept within.Hark to that!"An Iroquois some distance from the houses was bending over the snow where it was not yet melted by the heat.He saw there the track of snowshoes, and suddenly, looking toward the forest, whither they led, he saw a dark figure flit away among the trees.
