several lights could be seen. The river itself
was in shadow. Most of the people at the fort, exhausted by their long
labors and watches, were asleep, but Henry and his five comrades
gathered near the spring, carrying with them three little iron pots,
carefully covered with tin tops.

"It's a pity we haven't two or three hand grenades," said Major
Braithwaite. "These are rather cumbrous things."

"I've heard Paul say that they used pots like these in ancient times,"
said Henry, "and I guess that if they did so, we can, too. What do you
say, Seth?"

"I'm thinkin' that we kin," said Seth confidently. "Leastways, I'm
thinkin' that we're ready to try."

"That is surely the right spirit," said Major Braithwaite, with a little
tremor in his voice. "You lads are about to embark upon a desperate
undertaking. I would not say that the chances are against you, if you
did not know it already, but there is nothing truer than the fact that
fortune favors those who dare much. I pray that all of you may come
back."

He shook hands with them all, and stood by the palisade as, one by one,
they climbed over it and dropped into the dark.

Henry and his five comrades on the outside of the palisade remained for
a little space crouched against the wooden wall. All six searched the
thickets on the slope with eye and ear, but they could neither see nor
hear anything that betokened the presence of an enemy. It was not likely
that Indian scouts would be lying in such a place, practically hanging
to the side of the cliff between the palisade and the river, but Henry
was not willing to neglect any precaution. The slightest mischance would
ruin all. He gave silent but devout thanks that this night of all nights
should prove to be so dark.

It was a singular file that made its way down the cliff through the
thick brush, six dusky figures carrying rifles, and three of them, in
addition, gingerly bearing small iron pots. When nearly to the bottom of
the cliff their singularity increased. They stopped in a little alcove
of the rocks, hid their rifles and ammunition among the bushes, took off
every particle of clothing, all of which they hid, also, except their
belts.

They buckled the belts tightly around their bare waists, but every belt
carried in it a tomahawk and hunting knife. They still bore the three
little iron pots which they handled so gingerly.

Six white figures slipped through the remaining bushes, six white
figures reached the