ed the
palisade, and sent their shot into the midst of those within, who were
forced, for shelter, to dig holes in the ground four or five feet deep,
and ensconce themselves there. The situation was almost hopeless, but
their courage did not fail. They raised twelve red English blankets on
poles as battle-flags, to show that they would fight to the death, and
hung others over their palisades, calling out that they wished to see
the whole earth red, like them, with blood; that they had no fathers but
the English, and that the other tribes had better do as they did, and
turn their backs to Onontio.

The great war-chief of the Pottawattamies now mounted to the top of one
of the French scaffolds, and harangued the enemy to this effect: "Do you
think, you wretches, that you can frighten us by hanging out those red
blankets? If the earth is red with blood, it will be your own. You talk
about the English. Their bad advice will be your ruin. They are enemies
of religion, and that is why the Master of Life punishes both them and
you. They are cowards, and can only defend themselves by poisoning
people with their firewater, which kills a man the instant he drinks it.
We shall soon see what you will get for listening to them."

This Homeric dialogue between the chief combatants was stopped by
Dubuisson, who saw that it distracted the attention of the warriors, and
so enabled the besieged to run to the adjacent river for water. The
firing was resumed more fiercely than ever. Before night twelve of the
Indian allies were killed in the French fort, though the enemy suffered
a much greater loss. One house had been left standing outside the French
palisades, and the Outagamies raised a scaffold behind its bullet-proof
gable, under cover of which they fired with great effect. The French at
length brought two swivels to bear upon the gable, pierced it, knocked
down the scaffold, killed some of the marksmen, and scattered the rest
in consternation.

Famine and thirst were worse for the besieged than the bullets and
arrows of the allies. Parched, starved, and fainting, they could no
longer find heart for bravado, and they called out one evening from
behind their defences to ask Dubuisson if they might come to speak with
him. He called together the allied chiefs, and all agreed that here was
an opportunity to get out of the hands of the Outagamies the three
Ottawa women whom they held prisoners. The commandant, therefore, told
them that