Henry looked again, and saw the brown files approaching.

He thrust the muzzle of the rifle through the hole and fired at a row of brown legs, and then, with only a second between, he discharged another bullet at the same target.

Cries of pain and rage arose, there was a thud as the heavy log was dropped to the ground, and Henry had time to send a third shot after the fleeing warriors as they ran for the forest.
"They won't try that again," said Henry.

"They cannot approach the door without coming within range of the loophole, and they'll rest a while now to think up some new trick." "What will be the end of it ?" asked Paul.
"Nobody can say," replied the great youth calmly.

"Indians don't stick to a thing as white men do; they may get tired and go away after a while, but not yet, and it's for you and me, Paul, to watch and fight." A certain fierce resolve showed in his tone, and Paul knew that Henry felt himself a match for anything.
"Better eat and drink a little more, Paul," said Henry.