carrying with
them the provincial troops, who would have stood firm and behaved as
soldiers should. I was caught in one edge of the mob, as I tried to
restrain the men about me, and flung aside against a tree with such force
that I stood for a moment dazed by the blow, and then I saw I was beneath
the tree where Washington and Braddock sat their horses, watching with
grim faces the frenzied crowd sweep past. The soldiers flung away their
guns and accoutrements, their helmets, even their coats, that they might
flee the faster, and I saw one strike down a young subaltern who tried to
stay them. They jostled and fell over one another as sheep pursued by
dogs. I saw a horseman, his head bandaged in a bloody cloth, trying to
make way toward us against this cursing torrent, and recognized Captain
Orme. But he was dashed aside even as I had been, and for a moment I
thought he had been torn from his horse and trodden underfoot. Torn from
his horse he was, indeed, but escaped the latter fate, for some moments
later he came to us on foot through the trees.

"Come, sir," he cried to the general, as he gained his side, "you must
leave the field. There is no hope of getting a guard from among these
cowards or persuading them to make a stand."

Braddock turned to answer him, but as he did so, threw up his hands and
fell forward into the arms of his aide. I sprang to Orme's assistance,
and between us we eased him down. His horse, doubtless also struck by a
ball, dashed off screaming through the wood.

"They have done for me!" he groaned, as we placed his back against a
tree. "Curse them, they have done for me."

Washington, who had left his horse the instant he saw the general fall,
knelt and rested the wounded man's head upon his knee, and wiped the
bloody foam from off his lips.

"Where are you hit?" he asked.

"Here," and the general raised his left hand and touched his side. "'Tis
a mortal hurt, and I rejoice in it. I have no wish to survive this day's
disgrace."

He cast his bloodshot eyes at the rabble of fleeing men.

"And to think that they are soldiers of the line!" he moaned, and closed
his eyes, as though to shut out the sight.

"We must get him out of this," said Orme quietly, and he turned away to
call to some of the Forty-Eighth who were rushing past. But they did not
even turn their heads. With an oath, Orme seized one by the collar.

"A purse of sixty guineas!" he cried, dangling it before his eyes, but
the