st watch-tower, the occupants of which had been
better protected than those at the stockade, but for all that I found
one poor fellow dead and another badly wounded. Such a true and steady
fire had been poured at the loopholes, I was told, that it was as much
as the men's lives were worth to expose themselves sufficiently to take
aim. I looked out for a moment, but though I could see vaguely through
the driving snow to the dark line of the forest, not an Indian was in
sight.

"They have not retreated?" I asked.

"Not them, sir," a grizzled voyageur remarked, with emphasis. "Every
clump of bushes, every stump and snow heap, has a lurking redskin behind
it. And the woods yonder are full of 'em, too."

He had hardly spoken when there was a flash and a report off to the
left, followed quickly by one from the right. Both shots were aimed at
the stockade loopholes, but they seemed to strike harmlessly, and drew
no reply from our men.

"Consarn the devils!" growled the voyageur as he peered into the night.
"They don't show as much as a feather tip."

"They ain't lying so long in the snow for nothing," added another man.
"They'll be at us again with a rush presently."

"I am afraid they will," I assented. "Keep a sharp lookout and give us
timely warning."

With that I left the tower and walked along the north side of the fort.
I was glad to observe that the men were in confident and even cheerful
spirits. Some were loading muskets, while others were bringing bullets
and canisters of powder, and, what was more urgently needed at present,
pannikins of steaming hot coffee. The latter, I ascertained, came from
the factor's house, and I had no doubt that it was due to the womanly
forethought of Flora and Mrs. Menzies.

I could not find Father Cleary, and on making inquiries I learned that
he was with the wounded, who had all been taken to the hastily
improvised hospital in the men's quarters. I was told that he had stuck
to his post through the fighting, and had done as good and valorous
service as any man in the fort.

Mr. Christopher Burley I came upon seated astride of an empty cask, with
his musket across his knees. His cap was gone, and his hair was awry; he
was scarcely recognizable for a mask of perspiration and powder grime.

"I congratulate you," I said, "on keeping a sound skin."

"The same to you," he replied. "It was indeed a severe and bloody fight.
I bore your advice in mind Mr. Carew, and I have fired six