at, and I overtook Daganoweda and the Mohawks. Their
first smoke was but that from a camp-fire, as being in strong force
they did not care who saw them, but the last, just before the sunset,
was sent up as a signal by two warriors whom we left behind for the
purpose. We thought you might take it to mean that help was coming."

"And so we did. How many warriors has Daganoweda?"

"Fifty, and that is enough. Already they push the Frenchman and his
force before them. Come, we must join them, Dagaeoga. The breath has
come back into my body and I am a strong man again!"

The two now quickly took their places in the battle in the night and
the forest, the position of the two forces being reversed. The
soldiers and the Mohawks were pushing the combat at every point, and
the agile warriors extending themselves on the flanks had already
driven in St. Luc's skirmishers. Black Rifle, uttering fierce shouts,
was leading a strong attack in the center. The firing was now rapid
and much heavier than it had been at any time before. Flashes of flame
appeared everywhere in the thicket. Above the crackle of rifles and
muskets swelled the long thrilling war cry of the Mohawks, and back in
fierce defiance came the yells of the Hurons and Abenakis.

Willet joined Robert and the two, with Tayoga, saw that the soldiers
fought well under cover. The young Philadelphians, in the excitement
of battle and of a sudden and triumphant reversal of fortune, were
likely to expose themselves rashly, and the advice of the forest
veterans was timely. Captain Colden saw that it was taken, although
two more of his men were slain as they advanced and several were
wounded. But the issue was no longer doubtful. The weight that the
Mohawks had suddenly thrown into the battle was too great. The force
of St. Luc was steadily driven northward, and Daganoweda's alert
skirmishers on the flanks kept it compressed together.

Robert knew how bitter the defeat would be to St. Luc, but the
knowledge did not keep his exultation from mounting to a high pitch.
St. Luc might strive with all his might to keep his men in the battle,
but the Frenchmen could not be numerous, and it was the custom of
Indians, once a combat seemed lost, to melt away like a mist. They
believed thoroughly that it was best to run away and fight another
day, and there was no disgrace in escaping from a stricken field.

"They run! They run! And the Frenchmen must run with them!" exclaimed
Black Rifl