he galloped among the troops, trying
to rally and lead them forward. Washington's horse was pierced by a
ball and, staggering, fell. James leaped from his horse and gave it to
the colonel, and then, seeing that there was nothing for him to do,
withdrew a short distance from the crowd of soldiers, and crouched down
between the trunks of two great trees growing close to each other; one
of which protected him, for the most part, from the fire of the
Indians, and the other from the not less dangerous fire of the English.
Presently, seeing a soldier fall at a short distance from him, he ran
out and picked up his musket and cartridge box, and began to fire at
the bushes where the puffs of smoke showed that men were in hiding.

After three hours' passive endurance of this terrible fire, Braddock,
seeing that all was lost, commanded a retreat, and he and such officers
as were left strove to draw off the soldiers in some semblance of
order; but at this moment a bullet struck him, and, passing through his
arm, penetrated his lungs, and he fell from his horse. He demanded to
be left where he lay, but Captain Stewart of the Virginians, and one of
his men, bore him between them to the rear.

The soldiers had now spent all their ammunition, and, no longer kept in
their places by their general, broke away in a wild panic. Washington's
second horse had now been shot, and as, trying to check the men, he
passed the trees where James had taken up his position, the latter
joined him.

In vain Washington and his other officers tried to rally the men at the
ford. They dashed across it, wild with fear, leaving their wounded
comrades, cannon, baggage, and military chest a prey to the Indians.

Fortunately, only about fifty of the Indians followed as far as the
ford, the rest being occupied in killing the wounded and scalping the
dead. Dumas, who had now but twenty Frenchmen left, fell back to the
fort, and the remnants of Braddock's force continued the flight
unmolested.

Chapter 10: The Fight At Lake George.

Fortunate was it, for the remnant of Braddock's force, that the Indians
were too much occupied in gathering the abundant harvest of scalps, too
anxious to return to the fort to exhibit these trophies of their
bravery, to press on in pursuit; for, had they done so, few indeed of
the panic-stricken fugitives would ever have lived to tell the tale.
All night these continued their flight, expecting every moment to hear
the dread