st to retreat?

John Stark's blood is up.

"Retreat! No; that will be certain destruction. We can beat them here.
I'll shoot the first man that attempts to retreat."

It was bold language for him to use to his commander, but he knew that
Rogers had been stunned by the bullet that had glanced from his skull,
and was not quite himself.

The fight goes on, the Rangers taking sure aim, the French firing more
wildly, but still one by one the Rangers drop. Captain Spikeman and Mr.
Baker are killed. A bullet strikes the lock of Stark's gun, and renders
it useless. He sees a Frenchman fall at the instant, springs forward,
seizes his gun, returns to his tree, and renews the fight.

A bullet tears through Rogers's wrist, and the blood spurts out in a
stream. It must be stopped, or he will bleed to death. Rogers wears his
back hair braided in a queue.

[Illustration: CUTTING OFF A QUEUE TO BIND A WOUND.]

"Take your knife and cut off my queue," he says to one of the Rangers,
who whips out his hunting-knife, cuts off the queue, and Rogers sticks
it into the wound to stop the flowing of the blood.

All through the dreary afternoon the fight goes on. The snow is
crimsoned with blood. The killed and mortally wounded lie where they
fall. For the Rangers there is no escape; they must conquer or die.

The shades of night steal on; the fire of the French and Indians has
been growing less; the war-whoop dies away; the last gun is fired. The
enemy, picking up their wounded, retire to Ticonderoga, leaving the
Rangers victors. What a dear-bought victory!--one-half of them killed or
wounded. Of the enemy one hundred and sixteen have fallen!

The Rangers were only four miles from Ticonderoga, and might expect to
be attacked again in the morning. They were forty miles from Fort
William Henry. They were weary and worn, but they must move on. They
made litters for the wounded, and started, marching all night, but
making only a few miles.

The snow had ceased, the air was chill. They must have help. John Stark,
leaving them, started for Fort William Henry, reaching it at sunset.
Soldiers with horses and sleds started at once, and John Stark with
them, stopping not a moment to rest his weary limbs. At sunrise he was
back to the Rangers with the re-enforcements and supplies. The French
had not followed them, and they made their way safely back to Fort
William Henry, having fought one of the most obstinate, unequal, yet
victorious battles