ould we do?"

The face of Tom Ross was very grave, and he spoke slowly, as was his
wont.

"It's a hard thing to set here," he exclaimed, "but it will be harder to
go out an' meet 'em on their own ground, an' them four or five to one."

"We must not go out," repeated the Colonel, glad of such backing.

The door was thrust open, and an officer entered.

"A rumor has just arrived, saying that the entire Davidson family has
been killed and scalped," he said.

A deep, angry cry went up. Colonel Butler and the few who stood with
him were overborne. Such things as these could not be endured, and
reluctantly the commander gave his consent. They would go out and
fight. The fort and its enclosures were soon filled with the sounds of
preparation, and the little army was formed rapidly.

"We will fight by your side, of course," said Henry, "but we wish to
serve on the flank as an independent band. We can be of more service in
that manner."

The colonel thanked them gratefully.

"Act as you think best," he said.

The five stood near one of the gates, while the little force formed
in ranks. Almost for the first time they were gloomy upon going into
battle. They had seen the strength of that army of Indians, renegades,
Tories, Canadians, and English advancing under the banner of England,
and they knew the power and fanaticism of the Indian leaders. They
believed that the terrible Queen Esther, tomahawk in hand, had
continually chanted to them her songs of blood as they came down the
river. It was now the third of July, and valley and river were beautiful
in the golden sunlight. The foliage showed vivid and deep green on
either line of high hills. The summer sun had never shown more kindly
over the lovely valley.

The time was now three o'clock. The gates of the fort were thrown open,
and the little army marched out, only three hundred, of whom seventy
were old men, or boys so young that in our day they would be called
children. Yet they marched bravely against the picked warriors of the
Iroquois, trained from infancy to the forest and war, and a formidable
body of white rovers who wished to destroy the little colony of
"rebels," as they called them.

Small though it might be, it was a gallant army. Young and old held
their heads high. A banner was flying, and a boy beat a steady insistent
roll upon a drum. Henry and his comrades were on the left flank, the
river was on the right. The great gates had closed behind them,