rose soon after, to shine down warm and bright upon as dejected,
weary-looking, and besmirched a body of men as could have been seen.
For they were all blackened with powder and smoke; some were scorched,
and in every face I could read the same misery, dejection, and despair.
But the General, Colonel Preston, and several of the leading gentlemen
soon sent a different spirit through the camp. A few orders were given,
the sentries changed, three parts being withdrawn; the women, who looked
one half-hour haggard, pale, and scared, wore quite a changed aspect, as
they hurriedly prepared food for their defenders; and in a very short
time cries and shouts from the children helped to make some of us think
that matters were not quite so desperate after all.

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

It is astonishing what can be done in the most painful times when there
are good leaders, and a spirit of discipline reigns. I remember how I
noted it here that noontide; when, after food and rest, the fresher men
relieved sentries, and strove to listen to the General as he pointed out
that though the block-house was gone and our retreat cut off, we were in
nearly as good a position of defence as ever, for our barriers were
firm, and it was not certain, even in the most fierce of assaults, that
the enemy could win. In addition, he pointed out that at any hour a
British ship might appear in the river, whose presence alone would
startle the Indians; while if the worst came to the worst, there would
be a place for us to find safety.

"There, Morgan," I said, feeling quite inspirited, as I noted the change
which seemed to have come over the men. "You see how mad all that was
last night."

He smiled as he laid his hand on my arm. "Look you, Master George," he
said, "you always forget that I only talked of that as being something
to be done if it came to the worst."

"And it has not come to the worst," I said.

"And I hope it never may," he replied.

I hurried to my father's side to tell him what had gone on; and I found
him in a great deal of pain, but apparently quite cheerful and grateful
to the big black, who now declared himself well enough to attend to "de
massa," and forgetful of his own injuries, which were serious enough,
the cuts on his arms being still bad, while he had been a good deal
scorched by the fire.

"I can never be grateful enough to you, Hannibal," said my father again.
"You saved my life."

"Massa sabe Hannibal li