It was exceedingly probable the body of
Donellan had been mistaken for his own, and that in the
anxiety of his father to prevent the Indians from carrying
it off, the cannon had been directed to open upon them.
But if this were the case, how were the reports of the
rifles, and the fierce yellings that continued, save at
intervals, to ring throughout the forest to be accounted
for? The bullets of the Indians evidently could not reach
the fort, and they were too wily, and attached too much
value to their ammunition, to risk a shot that was not
certain of carrying a wound with it. For a moment the
fact itself flashed across his mind, and he attributed
the fire of small arms to the attack and defence of a
party that had been sent out for the purpose of securing
the body, supposed to be his own; yet, if so, again how
was he to account for his not hearing the report of a
single musket? His ear was too well practised not to know
the sharp crack of the rifle from the heavy dull discharge
of the musket, and as yet the former only had been
distinguishable, amid the intervals that ensued between
each sullen booming of the cannon.
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