Few words were spoken.
The children were secured where they would be out of the way of flying bullets.

They were huddled together silent and frightened; pale-faced but resolute women passed up and down the length of the block-house; some carried buckets of water and baskets of food; others were tearing bandages; grim-faced men peered from the portholes; all were listening for the war-cry.
They had not long to wait.

Before noon the well-known whoop came from the wooded shore of the river, and it was soon followed by the appearance of hundreds of Indians.

The river, which was low, at once became a scene of great animation.

From a placid, smoothly flowing stream it was turned into a muddy, splashing, turbulent torrent.