Here and there a settler found time to snatch his rifle,
or a andiron, or a heavy chair, and so to make a desperate though brief
defense; and in this way three Micmacs and one Acadian were killed.
The yells of the raiders were mingled with the shrieks of the victims,
and almost instantly the scene of horror was lighted up by the flames
of the burning ricks.
Pierre, with rather a vague idea of what he was going to do, had rushed
to the attack among the foremost, and had plunged headlong over the body
of the dead mastiff. In the fall he dropped his rifle, but clung to his
hatchet, and in a moment he found himself in the hallway of the chief
house. His perception of what took place was confused. He felt himself
carried up the stairs with a rush. A faint light was glimmering into
existence in the large room, in the middle of which he saw a man
standing rifle in hand. There was a deafening report, and everything
was wrapped in a cloud of smoke. Then a sudden glare filled the room
as a barn outside blazed to heaven; and the man, clubbing his rifle,
sprang at his assailants. Pierre did not wait to see his fate, but
darted past him into a room beyond.
This was plainly the children's bedroom. Pierre's eye fell on a small,
yellow-haired child, who was sitting up amid her bedclothes, her round
eyes wild with terror. She shrieked at the sight of Pierre's painted
visage, but the lad's heart went out to her with passionate pity as he
thought of the little folk at home.
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