n the other the Tories and
Iroquois, about to lose their country, and swayed by the utmost passions
of hate and revenge.

"Spread out," whispered Henry. "Don't give them a chance to flank us.
You, Sol, take ten men and go to the right, and you, Heemskerk, take ten
and go to the left."

"It is well," whispered Heemskerk. "You have a great head, Mynheer
Henry."

Each promptly obeyed, but the larger number of the riflemen remained
in the center, where Henry knelt, with Paul and Long Jim on one side of
him, and Silent Tom on the other. When he thought that the two flanking
parties had reached the right position, he uttered a low whistle, and
back came two low whistles, signals that all was ready. Then the line
began its slow advance, creeping forward from tree to tree and from
bush to bush. Henry raised himself up a little, but he could not yet see
anything where the hostile force lay hidden. They went a little farther,
and then all lay down again to look.

Tom Ross had not spoken a word, but none was more eager than he. He was
almost flat upon the ground, and he had been pulling himself along by a
sort of muscular action of his whole body. Now he was so still that
he did not seem to breathe. Yet his eyes, uncommonly eager now, were
searching the thickets ahead. They rested at last on a spot of brown
showing through some bushes, and, raising his rifle, he fired with sure
aim. The Iroquois uttered his death cry, sprang up convulsively, and
then fell back prone. Shots were fired in return, and a dozen riflemen
replied to them. The battle was joined.

They heard Braxton Wyatt's whistle, the challenging war cry of the
Iroquois, and then they fought in silence, save for the crack of the
rifles. The riflemen continued to advance in slow, creeping fashion,
always pressing the enemy. Every time they caught sight of a hostile
face or body they sent a bullet at it, and Wyatt's men did the same. The
two lines came closer, and all along each there were many sharp little
jets of fire and smoke. Some of the riflemen were wounded, and two
were slain, dying quietly and without interrupting their comrades, who
continued to press the combat, Henry always leading in the center, and
Shif'less Sol and Heemskerk on the flanks.

This battle so strange, in which faces were seen only for a moment, and
which was now without the sound of voices, continued without a moment's
cessation in the dark forest. The fury of the combatants increased as