CHAPTER XI--THE DEFENSE OF THE ARK

Sergeant Dick knew that the old squatter had the keys of the cabin doors upon him; that there would be no necessity for them to force an entrance.

“Right you are, sergeant!” Arnold answered; and, as the side of the ark bumped heavily against the verandah, the old man and his two sons vaulted hurriedly aboard, and dashed at the door near them.

Even as the key rattled in the lock, and Old Alf pushed the door in, Sergeant Dick sprang round the corner of the “house” or cabin. Nevertheless, inside he was within an ace of being shut out--purposely or accidentally--by Abner Arnold, who was slamming the door in his face, when he flung himself bodily against it, and, by main force, thrust it open sufficiently to slip inside.

“Did you want to shut me out?” he demanded, in fierce suspicion of the young squatter. Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and helped to shoot home the bolts and put up the heavy wooden bars which stood ready for the purpose.

Old Alf and Amos were rushing through into the second cabin, to make sure of the door and broken window there.

The rattling of musketry continued unabatedly outside, and bullets thudded against the door and the stout log-walls of the cabin like hail. As soon as the door was secure, Sergeant Dick sprang to the first loop on the south, or offside, of the craft, and looked forth.

He saw the plumed heads of several savage warriors ranged along the bulwark of the scow. They were in the very act of clambering aboard!

As in the attack on the “castle,” he instantly decided to use his automatic instead of his rifle, which, however, he had carried hung upon his right shoulder, ready for instant use. While hurrying along the footboard at the side of the cabin, he had seen to his pistol--made sure that it was reloaded to its utmost capacity.

With ten lives in the deadly little weapon, he thrust its short barrel out through the loophole, and opened a merciless fusillade upon the Indians clambering aboard.

At every bark of the weapon there was an agonized scream outside. Four of the redmen either lay head downwards over the bulwarks or had fallen back into the lake, in less than as many seconds. The others, with screams of dismay, whipped down again out of sight--all, that is, in front of his loop.

But in the scow’s waist, and at her far end John Dick could hear the triumphant yells of the Indians mingled with the crackle of his fellow defenders’ revolvers.

Abner Arnold had remained at the door by which they had got in, and was firing out through a loophole he had uncovered in it. A steel slide was fitted into grooves over a horizontal slit, about two inches wide, and six or eight long. Through this aperture the young squatter had his revolver thrust, and was potting fiercely at the Indians trying to climb over that end of the scow.

“You can hold your own, Abner?” the sergeant asked.

“Yes, curse you, yes!” was the fierce reply.

“Right. Then I’ll go along to the next cabin and see if your father and brother need me.”

The cabin he was in was fitted up, in rather primitive style, as a dining-compartment, or “saloon” and kitchen in one. A table-top was hooked up within a couple of inches of the slightly rounded, coach-like roof, and might be lowered by cords passing through rings to the level of an ordinary table.

On either side of the cabin ran a banked seat, which could be converted into two beds or berths--that is four in all--while there were hooks for hammocks if there were any call for additional sleeping accommodation.

Under the banked seats were lockers and drawers, most neatly made, and on the four walls--over the doors and flanking these, as well as on the two side walls--were little cupboards and all manner of cooking utensils and other domestic equipage.

In one corner of the apartment stood a small American iron stove, the pipe of which passed out through a hole in the eaves of the roof.

Pursuant to his expressed intention, Sergeant Dick passed hurriedly through the inner door into the other cabin, which was much better furnished, and evidently reserved for the womenfolk. There was no table hooked up, nor any stove, but there were banked seats for four beds, as well as hooks for hammocks, a couple of looking-glasses--the worse for frequent use--on the walls, a couple of lift-up dressing ledges, etc., and four wardrobe cupboards, one in each corner, for storage purposes, in addition to more lockers and little cupboards.

John Dick took in only the faintest idea of the apartment, of course. Naturally his thoughts were elsewhere at that moment than with the structure of Old Alf Arnold’s strange houseboat.

He saw the old man firing out sideways, with a revolver, through a loophole nearer him than the window with the broken shutter, and Amos kneeling at the end-door, shooting through the lower loophole in it. The younger man was casting anxious glances, ’tween whiles, at the broken window, which gaped open--a square foot and more--for any redskin foe to shoot in at.

As a matter of fact, several bullets whizzed in through it and buried themselves with loud thuds in the opposite wall.

It was to prevent any of the Indians reaching the window that his father was firing sideways, chiefly through the adjacent loops. Amos had clearly run past the open window on hands and knees.

Neither he nor his father, Sergeant Dick saw, could be spared from their posts to try to cover the broken window. Both men had their hands full, for the time being at any rate, keeping the assailants from getting aboard.

On the other hand it would not do for the sergeant himself to leave Abner Arnold too long alone to hold the other cabin. Some of the foe would be bound to return to the quarter left undefended, and if not checked would smash in the two loops or shuttered windows at the point.

With his usual promptitude and decision, the young sergeant of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police at once acted. He rushed forward to where, by the light from without, he saw the dislodged shutter lying upon the cabin floor, caught it up, and, stooping so as not to let his head show above the sill of the opening, dashed up under this and clapped the shutter, still fairly serviceable and intact, save for its lack of fastenings, over the aperture.

As he thus closed this several bullets rattled on the outside of the shutter, almost knocking it out of his hands. But he kept it pressed tightly over the opening with one hand, and turned and shouted to Old Alf:

“You run and help Abner in the other cabin, Mr. Arnold. I can manage here.”

He knocked up the hook which held the slide over the loop or slit in the shutter, with his pistol muzzle, while he kept the shutter pressed over the open window with his left hand. Then he pushed aside the slide and thrust the weapon out, peering forth at the same time.

There came a loud shout of alarm from Abner, and Old Man Arnold, wheeling, rushed back to the other cabin.

“They’ve cut us loose, father--Amos!” Abner bawled.

A redskin’s knife or tomahawk had slashed through the solitary mooring-rope holding his end of the scow to the “castle” verandah, and the craft began to drift on the current towards the southern side of the “dock,” or palisaded enclosure.

It was no easy task Sergeant Dick had set himself--to hold up the heavy steel shutter over the window, and at the same time fire out through the loophole in it.

All the windows aboard the ark were constructed alike. They were merely square casements, and in the ordinary way they would be left open for light or air. The shutters--solid plates of steel an inch or more in thickness--were fitted in grooves, which rose above them, and could be dropped down easily over them on the inside and hooked into position thus.

Howling Wolf had, of course, beaten the steel plate bodily out of its grooves, and burst the hook away--no light achievement in the circumstances.

Old Man Arnold had kept that quarter of the scow free of boarders, but now, on the closing of the open window, which all the Indians in the canoes opposite had been making their target, several redskins, swimming alongside, attempted again to board.

The two canoes within the “dock” at the same time closed up and ranged alongside on that same quarter, and every warrior in them at once stood up and gripped the side of the scow, making to draw himself up and over into it.

But in this intention the majority of them were frustrated by the sudden and by them, as well as by the defenders, the unexpected release of the scow. This, borne upon by the current as it was, ceased merely turning or veering round as if pivoted at its bow, and instead began to move away sidelong, bodily.

How it happened the occupants of the canoes themselves hardly had time to comprehend, but their dangling feet helped no doubt in the catastrophe which followed. For coming in contact with the offside gunwales of their frail craft, they helped to kick these under water as the inside gunwales rose up with the scow pressing hard upon them.

In an instant both canoes had filled and sunk, leaving half their late occupants clinging to the scow, and the other half struggling in the water, into which they had dropped either from fright or for lack of a secure hold on the bulwark over them.