ad a good position from which to direct the battle, but
Daganoweda on the right, with all of his Mohawks, was pushing forward
steadily and would soon be able to pour a flanking fire into St. Luc's
little army. The forest resounded now with the sharp reports of the
rifles and the shouts and yells of the combatants. Bullets cut leaves
and twigs, but the rangers and the Mohawks were advancing.

"Do you know how many men we have lost, Rogers?" asked Willet.

"Three of the white men and four of the Mohawks have been slain, Dave,
but we're winning a success, and it's not too high a price to pay in
war. If Daganoweda can get far enough around on their left flank we'll
drive 'em into the lake, sure. Ah, there go the rifles of the Mohawks
and they're farther forward than ever. That Mohawk chief is a bold
fighter, crafty and full of fire."

"None better than he. I think they're well around the flank, Rogers.
Listen to their shouts. Now, we'll make a fresh rush of our own."

They sprang from the shelter of the log, and, leading their men, rushed
in a hundred yards until they dropped down behind another one. Robert
and Tayoga went with them, firing as they ran, borne on by the thrill of
combat, but Robert felt relief nevertheless when he settled again in the
shelter of the second log and for the time being was secure from
bullets.

"I think," said Willet to Rogers, "that I'll go around toward the left,
where the flanking force is composed mostly of rangers, and press in
there with all our might. If the two horns of the crescent are able to
enclose St. Luc, and you charge at the center, we should win the victory
soon."

"It's the right idea, Dave," said Rogers. "When we hear your shots and a
shout or two we'll drive our hardest."

"I'd like to take Tayoga and Robert with me."

"They're yours. They're good and brave lads, and I'll need 'em, but
you'll need 'em too. How many more of the men here will you want?"

"About ten."

"Then take them too."

Willet, with Robert, Tayoga and the ten, began a cautious circuit in the
darkness toward the western horn of the crescent, and for a few minutes
left the battle in the distance. As they crept through the bushes,
Robert heard the shouts and shots of both sides and saw the pink flashes
of flame as the rifles were fired. In the darkness it seemed confused
and vague, but he knew that it was guided by order and precision. Now
and then a spent bullet pattered upon the leaves, and one