le of _pob_
(or tarred yarn), and a small cask of petroleum oil. They issued from the
side of the camp farthest from the wood, and, crawling on their faces,
took advantage of every tussock of grass, waving thistle, or hemlock bush
in their way. Meanwhile a persistent fire was kept up from behind the
breastwork, which, from the screams and yells proceeding from the savages,
must have been doing execution.

Presently, close behind the bush and near the ground, Moncrieff could see
Dugald's signal, the waving of a white handkerchief, and firing
immediately ceased.

Almost immediately afterwards smoke and flames ran all along the wood and
increased every moment. There was a smart volley of revolver firing, and
in a minute more Dugald and his Gauchos were safe again within the fort.

'Stand by now, lads, to defend the ramparts!' cried Moncrieff; 'the worst
is yet to come.'

The worst was indeed to come. For under cover of the smoke the Indians now
made ready for their final assault. In the few minutes of silence that
elapsed before the attack, the voice of a Gaucho malo was heard haranguing
his men in language that could not but inflame their blood and passions.
He spoke of the riches, the wealth of the camp, of the revenge they were
going to have on the hated white man who had stolen their hunting fields,
and driven them to the barren plains and mountains to seek for food with
the puma and the snake, and finally began to talk of the pale-face
prisoners that would become their possession.

'Give them another volley, men,' said Moncrieff, grimly. 'Fire low through
the smoke.'

It would have been better, probably, had our leader waited.

Little need to precipitate an onslaught that could have but one
ending--unless indeed assistance arrived from the fort.

* * * * *

The long, long hour of waiting came to an end at last, and the commander
and myself left the frontier fort at the head of the men.

How terribly tedious the march back seemed! The officer would keep talking
as cheerfully as if going to a concert or evening party. I hardly
answered, I hardly heard him. I felt ashamed of my anxiety, but still I
could not help it. I was but a young soldier.

At last we are within sight, ay, and hearing, of the camp, and the events
of the next hour float before my memory now as I write, like the shadowy
pantomime of some terrible dream.

First we see smoke and fire, but hear no s