As soon as the sun had climbed above our girdle of trees , it fell with all its force upon the clearing and drank up the vapours at a draught . Soon the sand was baking and the resin melting in the logs of the block house . Jackets and coats were flung aside , shirts thrown open at the neck and rolled up to the shoulders ; and we stood there , each at his post , in a fever of heat and anxiety . An hour passed away . `` Hang them ! '' said the captain . `` This is as dull as the doldrums . Gray , whistle for a wind . '' And just at that moment came the first news of the attack . `` If you please , sir , '' said Joyce , `` if I see anyone , am I to fire ? '' `` I told you so ! '' cried the captain . `` Thank you , sir , '' returned Joyce with the same quiet civility . Nothing followed for a time , but the remark had set us all on the alert , straining ears and eyes -- the musketeers with their pieces balanced in their hands , the captain out in the middle of the block house with his mouth very tight and a frown on his face . So some seconds passed , till suddenly Joyce whipped up his musket and fired . The report had scarcely died away ere it was repeated and repeated from without in a scattering volley , shot behind shot , like a string of geese , from every side of the enclosure . Several bullets struck the log-house , but not one entered ; and as the smoke cleared away and vanished , the stockade and the woods around it looked as quiet and empty as before . Not a bough waved , not the gleam of a musket-barrel betrayed the presence of our foes . `` Did you hit your man ? '' asked the captain .
`` No , sir , '' replied XXXXX .
Joyce attack fire first hour musketeers presence seconds shirts vapours