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<SPAN name="chap59"></SPAN> <h3>Chapter Fifty Nine.</h3> <h4>The Assault.</h4> <p>With the prospect of such fatal issue—so proximate as to seem already present—no wonder that our hearts were dismayed at sight of the waggon moving towards us. As the inhabitants of a leaguered city behold with fear the advance of the screened catapult or mighty “ram,” so regarded we the approach of that familiar vehicle—now a very monster in our eyes. We were not permitted to view the spectacle in perfect security. As the waggon moved forward, those who carried the muskets drew still nearer under cover of their horses, and once more played upon us their uncertain but dangerous shower. With the bullets hissing above and around us, we were forced to lie low—only at intervals raising our heads to note the progress of the party proceeding to storm.</p> <p>Slowly but surely the machine moved on—its wheels turning under the impulse of brawny arms—and impelled forward by pressure from behind. To fire upon it would have been of no avail: our bullets would have been thrown away. As easily might they have pierced through a stockade of tree-trunks. Oh! for a howitzer! but one discharge of iron grape to have crashed through those planks of oak and ash—to have scattered in death, that human machinery that was giving them motion! Slowly and steadily it moved on—stopping only as some large pebble opposed itself to the wheel—then on again as the obstacle was surmounted—on till the intervening space was passed over, and the triumphant cheer of our savage foemen announced the attainment of their object.</p> <p>Risking the straggling shots, we looked over. The waggon had reached the base of the butte; its tongue was forced up among the trees—its body stood side by side with the granite prisms. The storming party no longer required it as a shield: they would be sufficiently sheltered by the great boulders; and to these they now betook themselves—passing from one to the other, until they had completely surrounded the butte. We observed this movement, but could not prevent it. We saw the Indians flitting from rock to rock, like red spectres, and with the rapidity of lightning flashes! In vain we attempted to take aim; before a barrel could be brought to bear upon them, they were gone out of sight. We ourselves, galled by the leaden hail, were forced to withdraw behind our ramparts.</p> <p>A moment of suspense followed. We knew not how to act: we were puzzled by their movements, as well as by the silence in which they were making them. Did they intend to climb up the butte, and openly attack us? What else should be their design? What other object could they have in surrounding it? Only about a dozen had approached under cover of the waggon. Was it likely that so few of them would assail us boldly and openly? No. Beyond a doubt, they had some other design! Ha! what means that blue column slowly curling upward? It is smoke! See! Another and another—a dozen of them! From all sides they shoot upward, encircling the mound! Hark to those sounds! the “swish” of burning grass—the crackle of kindling sticks? They are making fires around us! The columns are at first filmy, but soon grow thicker and more dense. They spread out and join each other—they become attracted towards the rocky mass—they fall against its sides, and wreathing upward, wrap its summit in their ramifications. The platform is enveloped in the cloud! We see the savages upon the plain—dimly, as if through a crape. Those with the guns in their hands still continue to fire; the others are dismounting. The latter abandon their horses, and appear to be advancing on foot. Their forms through the magnifying mist loom spectral and gigantic! They are visible only for a moment. The smoke rolls its thick volume around the summit, and shrouds them from our sight. We no longer see our enemy or the earth. The sky is obscured—even the rock on which we stand is no longer visible, nor one of us to the other!</p> <p>Throughout all continues the firing from the plain; the bullets hurtle around our heads, and the clamour of our foemen reaches our ears with fierce thrilling import. We hear the crackling of faggots, and the spurting hissing noise of many fires; but perceive no blaze—only the thick smoke rising in continuous waves, and every moment growing denser around us. We can bear it no longer; we are half-suffocated. Any form of death before this! Is it too late to reach our horses? Doubtless, they are already snatched away? No matter: we cannot remain where we are. In five minutes, we must yield to the fearful asphyxia.</p> <p>“No! never! let us die as we had determined, with arms in our hands!” Voices husky and hoarse make answer in the affirmative.</p> <p>We spring to our feet, and come together—so that we can touch each other. We grasp our guns, and get ready our knives and pistols. We make to the edge of the rock, and, sliding down, assure ourselves of the path. We grope our way downward, guided by the granite walls on each side. We go not with caution, but in the very recklessness of a desperate need. We are met by the masses of smoke still rolling upwards. Further down, we feel the hot caloric as we come nearer to the crackling fires. We heed them not, but rush madly forward—till we have cleared both the cloud and the flames, and stand upon the level plain!</p> <p>It is but escaping from the fires of hell to rush into the midst of its demons. On all sides they surround us with poised spears and brandished clubs. Amidst their wild yells, we scarcely hear the cracking of our guns and pistols; and those who fall to our shots are soon lost to our sight, behind the bodies of others who crowd forward to encompass us. For a short while we keep together, and fight, back to back, facing our foes. But we are soon separated; and each struggles with a dozen assailants around him!</p> <p>The struggle was not protracted. So far as I was concerned, it ended, almost on the instant of my being separated from my comrades. A blow from behind, as of a club striking me upon the skull, deprived me of consciousness: leaving me only the one last thought—<i>that it was death</i>!</p> <hr /></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

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