e of Indians and their
white allies, Sir John Johnson's Royal Greens and Butler's Rangers
in the center, bearing the flag of England. The warriors, of whom the
Senecas were most numerous, were gathered in greatest numbers on their
right flank, facing the left flank of the Americans. Sangerachte and
Hiokatoo, who had taken two English prisoners at Braddock's defeat, and
who had afterwards burned them both alive with his own hand, were the
principal leaders of the Senecas. Henry caught a glimpse of "Indian"
Butler in the center, with a great blood-red handkerchief tied around
his head, and, despite the forest, he noticed with a great sinking of
the heart how far the hostile line extended. It could wrap itself like a
python around the defense.

"It's a tale that will soon be told," said Paul.

They went back swiftly, and warned Colonel Butler that the enemy was
at band. Even as they spoke they heard the loud wailing chant of Queen
Esther, and then came the war whoop, pouring from a thousand throats,
swelling defiant and fierce like the cry of a wounded beast. The
farmers, the boys, and the old men, most of whom had never been in
battle, might well tremble at this ominous sound, so great in volume
and extending so far into the forest. But they stood firm, drawing
themselves into a somewhat more compact body, and still advancing with
their banners flying, and the boy beating out that steady roll on the
drum.

The enemy now came into full sight, and Colonel Butler deployed his
force in line of battle, his right resting on the high bank of the river
and his left against the swamp. Forward pressed the motley army of the
other Butler, he of sanguinary and cruel fame, and the bulk of his
force came into view, the sun shining down on the green uniforms of the
English and the naked brown bodies of the Iroquois.

The American commander gave the order to fire. Eager fingers were
already on the trigger, and a blaze of light ran along the entire rank.
The Royal Greens and Rangers, although replying with their own fire,
gave back before the storm of bullets, and the Wyoming men, with a shout
of triumph, sprang forward. It was always a characteristic of the border
settler, despite many disasters and a knowledge of Indian craft and
cunning, to rush straight at his foe whenever he saw him. His, unless
a trained forest warrior himself, was a headlong bravery, and now this
gallant little force asked for nothing but to come to close grips