were flung aside, shirts thrown open at the neck and rolled up to the
shoulders; and we stood there, each at his post, in a fever of heat and
anxiety.
An hour passed away.
Hang them! said the captain. This is as dull as the doldrums. Gray,
whistle for a wind.
And just at that moment came the first news of the attack.
If you please, sir, said Joyce, if I see anyone, am I to fire?
I told you so! cried the captain.
Thank you, sir, returned Joyce with the same quiet civility.
Nothing followed for a time, but the remark had set us all on the alert,
straining ears and eyes--the musketeers with their pieces balanced in
their hands, the captain out in the middle of the block house with his
mouth very tight and a frown on his face.
So some seconds passed, till suddenly Joyce whipped up his musket
and fired. The report had scarcely died away ere it was repeated and
repeated from without in a scattering volley, shot behind shot, like
a string of geese, from every side of the enclosure. Several bullets
struck the log-house, but not one entered; and as the smoke cleared away
and vanished, the stockade and the woods around it looked as quiet and
empty as before. Not a bough waved, not the gleam of a musket-barrel
betrayed the presence of our foes.
Did you hit your man? asked the captain.
No, sir, replied Joyce. I believe not, sir.
Next best thing to tell the truth, muttered Captain Smollett. Load
his gun, Hawkins. How many should say there were on your side, doctor?
I know precisely, said Dr. Livesey. Three shots were fired on this
side. I saw the three flashes--two close together--one farther to the
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