the
shelter of the trees, vanquished by water where fire had
failed to overcome their rage.

The affair so far had not been unlike that of Braddock's
defeat, some twenty years before. But these were American
militia, not British regulars, frontiersmen who knew too
much of Indian fighting to stand in their ranks and be shot
down. They had long since taken to the trees, and fought the
savages in their own way. To this, perhaps, may be ascribed
the difference in result from that of the Braddock fight.

After the rain, the patriots gained better ground and
adopted new and useful tactics. Before, when the Indians
noticed a shot from behind a tree, they would rush forward
and tomahawk the unlucky provincial before he could reload.
But now two men were placed behind each tree, so that when
the whooping savage sprang forward with his tomahawk a
second bullet was ready to welcome him. The fire from the
American side now grew so destructive that the Indians began
to give way.

A body of Johnson's Greens came up to their support. These
were mostly loyalist refugees from the Mohawk Valley, to
whom the patriot militia bore the bitterest enmity.
Recognizing them, the maddened provincials leaped upon them
with tiger-like rage, and a hand-to-hand contest began, in
which knives and bayonets took the place of bullets, and the
contest grew brutally ferocious.

At this moment a firing was heard in the direction of the
fort. New hope sprung into the hearts of the patriots. Was
aid coming to them from the garrison? It seemed so, indeed,
for soon a body of men in Continental uniform came marching
briskly towards them. It was a ruse on the part of the enemy
which might have proved fatal. These men were Johnson
Green's disguised as Continentals. A chance revealed their
character. One of the patriots seeing an acquaintance among
them, ran up to shake hands with him. He was seized and
dragged into their ranks. Captain Gardenier, perceiving
this, sprang forward, spear in hand, and released his man;
but found himself in a moment engaged in a fierce combat, in
which he killed two of his antagonists and wounded another,
but was himself seriously hurt.

"For God's sake, captain," cried some of the militia, "you
are killing our own men!"

"They are not our own men, they are Tories!" yelled back
the captain. "Fire away!"

Fire they did, and with such deadly effect that numbers of
the disguised Tories fell, and nearly as many Indians. In a