The bullets of the savages had gone so wild and the darkness was so deep that their shelter appeared to him truly as a fortress which no numbers of besiegers could storm.
"Do you think they'll try floating down the stream on trees or logs again, Tayoga ?" he asked.
"No, the danger is too great," replied the Onondaga.

"They know now that we're watching." An hour passed without any further sign from the foe.

The rain decreased somewhat in violence, but, as the wind rose, its rush and sweep made as much sound as ever.

Then the waiting was broken by scattering shots, accompanied by detached war whoops, as if different bands were near.
From their shelter they watched the red dots that marked the discharges from the rifles, but only one bullet came near them, and after chipping a piece of stone over their heads it dropped harmlessly to the floor.
"That was the one chance out of a hundred," said Willet, "and now we're safe from the next ninety-nine bullets." "I trust the rule will work," said Robert.
"I wish you'd hold my left hand in a firm grip," said Willet.
"I will, but why ?" returned the youth.
"If I get a chance I'm going to drag up some of that dead and floating wood and lay it along the edge of the shelf.

In the dark the savages can't pick us off, but we'll need a barrier in the morning." "You're right, Dave, of course.