The two sentinels conversed but little. The outer war of the elements
was disturbing, and Christobal, though unfailingly optimistic in his
speech, was nevertheless a prey to dark forebodings. Once, they were
startled by the fall of an avalanche, which thundered down a mountain
side on the farther shore, and tore a great gap in the belt of trees
until it crashed into the water. It sent a four-foot wave across the
bay, and the Kansas rocked so violently that the men toiling below
raced up on deck to ascertain the cause of the disturbance.
This was the only exciting incident of a day that seemed to be
unending. Elsie, worn out by the strain of the preceding twenty-four
hours, and, notwithstanding her brief sleep in the morning, thoroughly
exhausted for want of rest, was persuaded to retire early to her cabin.
She lay down almost fully dressed. Somehow, it was impossible to think
of a state of unpreparedness for any emergency.
She was soon sound asleep. She awoke with a start, with all her nerves
a-quiver. Joey was tearing along the deck, barking furiously. She
heard two men run past her door with ominous haste. Then, after a
heart-breaking pause, there was some shooting. Some one, she thought
it was Courtenay, roared down the saloon companion: "On deck, all hands, to repel boarders!"
With a confused rush, men mounted the stairs and raced forward. She
knew that nearly all of those not on watch were sleeping with the
injured men in the saloon, and now she understood the reason. The ship
was being attacked by Indians, and not altogether unexpectedly. The
savages had stolen alongside in their canoes under the cloak of night.
Perhaps they were already on board in overwhelming numbers. Poor girl,
she murmured a prayer while she hurriedly drew on her boots and ulster.
There seemed to be no end to the evils which assailed the Kansas, and
she dreaded this new terror more than the mad fury of the seas. But,
if the men were fighting for their lives and her's, she must help, too.
That was clear. She had a weapon, a loaded revolver, which she had
picked up from beneath a boat's tarpaulin lying on the spar deck. She
opened her door and peered out. She could not see any one, and the
rattle of a hail-storm overhead effectually dulled any other noise.
But several shots fired again in the fore part of the ship were audible
above the din of the pelting hail. So she ran that way, with the fine
courage of one who fears yet goes on, and her eyes pierced the shadows
with a tense despair in them. For what could so few men do against the
unseen watchers who sent up the thirty-four smoke columns she had
counted?