d having long hair
hanging down the sides.

The decoy was barely in place before he was on the floor while a volley of
lead and a flight of arrows rained against the roof.

"I 'low that they're still there," he said.

"They'll wait till dark and then rush us."

"They'll use fire-arrers first," he corrected. "The Hoof has a poor
stomick for losin' more warriors. He'll need lots o' sculps an' prisoners
to make up for the men he's lost. He'll take no more chances. When it gits
dark they'll start a blaze on the roof. They'll creep mighty close without
our seein' 'em. The minute we show ourselves they'll be ready to jump us.
The chief is reckonin' to take us alive. The towns on the Scioto will need
more'n one stake-fire to make 'em forgit what this trip to Virginia has
cost 'em."

The business of waiting was most dreary. There was no water in the cabin,
and the sweat from our hands would spoil a priming unless care was taken.
At the end of this misery was almost certain captivity, ended by torture.
Cousin had the same thought for he spoke up and said:

"I'll live s'long's there's any show to even up the score, but I ain't
goin' to be kept alive no three days over a slow fire just to make some
fun for them damn beggars."

I watched the bar of sunlight slowly move over the rough puncheon floor.
The time passed infernally slowly for men waiting to test a hopeless
hazard. By all logic the minutes should have been very precious and should
have fairly flashed into eternity. The best we could reasonably wish for
was death in combat, or self-inflicted. Yet we cursed the heat, the
buzzing flies, the choking fumes of powder, the lack of water, and wished
the time away.

I wanted to open the door a bit for a breath of outside air. Cousin
objected, saying:

"We could do it, an' there ain't no Injuns near 'nough to play us any
tricks. But they'd see the door was open, even if only a crack, and they'd
know we was gittin' desperate, or sufferin' a heap, an' that would tickle
'em. I'm ag'in' givin' 'em even that bit of enjoyment. If we can make a
break when it gits dark afore the fire-arrers begin lightin' things up
we'll try for the Bluestone. If we could git clear o' this damn bottle
we'd stand a chance o' makin' our hosses."

I glanced down at the floor, and my heart tightened a bit. The bar of
sunlight had vanished.

"We've just 'bout come to it," gravely remarked Cousin. "I ain't no
talkin' cuss, but I'll say right here t