Besieged (and hammered)

The fighting continued with renewed though ineffectual fury, through which Moore’s sons valiantly stood by their elders, loading guns and serving drinks, since it appears from all accounts that the besieged garrison required plenty of fluid stimulants to keep up their courage. From the beginning the situation must have seemed hopeless, as the supply of water could not last more than a day or two, and realizing this, the besieged men doubtless went easy on the Adam’s ale, and heavy on the whiskey, rum, gin, anisette, cider and cherry bounce, with all of which they were well supplied. The cherry bounce was bouncing well enough to the tune of muzzle-loaders’ bullets whistling through the pines on Cherry Winche Hill. At this stage of the wild party young Joe Moore had a narrow escape. As the boy stooped to draw a glass of cherry from a barrel on the floor, a bullet crashed through the window, whizzed over his head and embedded itself in the wall beyond. It may be recorded here that none of Moore’s sons who served drinks that merry Christmas Eve, became bartenders in later life. The attackers were having poor luck in silencing the defense, and they had no Cherry Bounce to cheer them up. Of the entire Redbone clan, Simon Morrows was perhaps the most disgusted and disappointed. The “Whites” had escaped the trap at Chinquapin Gulch. Somebody had let the cat out, old Tom had been killed and things were going badly indeed. The Redbones had never gone in for guerrilla warfare en massa: it had been thrust upon them two or three times, but they proved to be poor troops, having no esprit de corps. They were lone scouts, sharp shooter, snipers and true “unknown soldiers” par excellence. Gathered into battalions, Simon’s men are poor soldiers, but one Redbone can carry on a war. And how! Openly embittered at the thought of having to yield the chance to kill his man early that morning, Simon stealthily ranged from one vantage point to another, seeking a chance to redeem himself. Finally, in desperation, apparently seeming to feel that old Tom and Matt had outdone himself, Morrows became bolder, and less cautious until, in a reckless effort to place an effective shot, he exposed himself to the quick aim of Louis Lacaze, the man Simon wanted most to get and the Redbone himself fell dead, his shot gun exploding in his hands and tearing a great hole in the ground as it fell. Another defeat to be chalked up against open warfare.

With this loss the bravest two men of the entire Redbone clan were gone and the boldness and aggressiveness of the besieging force went with them. From that time on none of the attacking party showed himself in the open, but a constant bombardment was kept up from behind the nearby trees. Even a shadow passing across a window drew a volley of shots from the alert gunmen hid in the surrounding forest. The leading spirit of this typical Indian warfare was Hiram Morrows, the blustering bravery of Marion Perkins having waned with the unexpected turn of events which had resulted in the death of his father; and the too-evident fact that the notches were not all to be cut on the Redbone’s guns. After this, the day and the siege wore on, broken by a funny incident.