Thus we sailed away. Little of account marked our voyage and, at the end of the tenth day, we sighted the headland of St. Johns. In the meantime I had made no change in my plans, which were to make a feigned attack on the fort by means of the sloops, and, while it was going on, to bring my main force up and storm the rear.

Now that our journey’s end was at hand, we prepared for what was before us. The arms were removed from the chests they had been stored in. Ammunition was broken out, and all useless stuff put away below decks. In a short time we anchored in a little bay to the south of St. Johns, where the sloops might remain a day or two unobserved. From there I would lead my men for the detour. It was dusk when we had landed.

We camped that night on the shore. In the morning, when the sun shone slanting through the branches of the trees, we pressed on. Our march was through the virgin forest. Now we had to cut our way through dense underbrush, 83scaring from their nests the woodland fowl. Sometimes the sneaking figure of a wolf would be seen, protesting with a howl against the invasion of his home. Once a great bear, again a startled deer, crashed through the brush as we approached.

At night we lighted fires, to keep away the wild beasts, which we heard howling on all sides of us. And thus we pushed on until the third night when we camped in sight of the French watch-fires.

Then we ate a cold supper, nor did I permit any talk or laughter. In deep silence we made all in readiness for the attack in the morning. Guns that had been wet in fording streams were looked to, and the caked powder picked from the pans. Spare flints were placed in pouches, as were the bullets, while powder horns were freshly filled.

With the mournful hoot of the owls in my ears, I fell asleep. I awoke with the first streak of dawn. The sentinels were called in, the last word given, and we were ready for the attack. If Cory, in charge of the sloops, was on hand, all would be well. We marched to the edge of the forest, and just beyond us was the fort. It was with a heart that throbbed with some little excitement that I arranged my men in files, and gave the order:

“Forward!”

Out into the open we ran, and I called to the men to separate, that they might thereby offer a smaller mark to the enemy.

84Looking toward the stronghold of the French, I saw, in the gray dawn, the sentinels on the ramparts. They looked down on us in wonder and then they shouted a warning and fired their muskets at us. The drum inside the fort beat the long roll of the call to arms. We were not to take them all unawares.

As we ran on, stooping to gain what little natural cover there was, dodging from side to side, I heard the dull boom and the roar of the sloops’ cannon, which told me that Cory was on hand.

The fort was now but a few hundred yards away, and I saw that it was a place of considerable strength. It was two stories in height, built of solid logs. The upper story overhung the lower, so that when the enemy came beneath the projection he could be attacked from above.

Outside of the fort was a stout palisade, made of young hickory trees bound closely together, after the Indian fashion. The fort could be seen above the palisade, as the stronghold stood on a little knoll. I could see that the mouths of six cannon were thrust toward us, and they seemed like to speak no gentle message.

We were clearly about to meet more than a match for our little force, yet I believe that never a one halted or wished to turn back. If we were to die, we would die fighting.

On we rushed. Within the fort all was activity now. The roll of the drum continued, and the flashes and reports 85on the side farthest from us told me that the fire from our sloops had drawn some answer from the grim fort.

I had hoped that the force at St. Johns was a small one, and that, by reason of the attack in front, I might get near enough the rear to carry the works. But a few minutes sufficed to show how little we had counted on the French and Indian fighting abilities. For no sooner had the cannon on our sloops and in the fort begun a noisy duel than a double score of men poured out from the lower part of the blockhouse and ran down the little hill to the stockade.

We were now within good musket range, and I called to the men to halt. Then I gave the order to fire. Our band, which had, though advancing at good speed, long been in readiness for this, let fly, aiming over the top of the palisade. It was a little too great a distance to do much damage, yet a few of the bullets that had a trifle more of powder behind them than others had, found a mark. I saw two of the French fall and roll down the hill, while a third was wounded and had to turn back. An answering volley from the fort did some scath among us and three men fell, one shot through the leg, and the others through the body so badly that there was small hope for them.

Among the men that now swarmed out from the fort like bees from a hive, I discerned the half-naked and painted bodies of savage Indians. They whooped horribly, 86and sprang up and down in the air, whirling about. They brandished their tomahawks around their heads, and some foolish ones threw them over the stockade, thinking, I suppose, that the weapons might strike us.

The smoke from the muskets now hid the scene from view, but when the wind had blown it aside I saw, by the white cloud that hung over the sea, that the sloops were doing their best. Yet I knew they could hope to inflict no damage, and the French were likely to find this out shortly. That the battle would go against us now seemed probable, but I knew our only hope was to fight on, even though the odds were heavy. I urged my men to reload quickly. Powder horns poured their black contents down the musket barrels. Then followed the bullet, in its greased leather covering, and, with a clang of the rammer on top of all, the load was in. The clicking of the powder pans as they were sprung open, and hammers raised, mingled with the hissing, spluttering sound of the slow matches.

Once more we fired, but this time most of our bullets rattled harmlessly against the stockade. The volley that answered us laid low two more of our men. Clearly this was but a losing fight, and so I resolved that a charge, an attempt to storm the palisades, must be made. Could we but gain entrance there, a hand to hand conflict might carry the day for us. Otherwise we could but stand and be shot at, doing little harm in return.

87I passed the word to the men, and again they loaded their weapons. I counted to have them rush as soon as they had discharged their pieces, as then the smoke would hang over us and afford a sort of cover.

“Fire!” I cried, and the bullets flew onward.

Yells from within the stockade told that some had been hit, probably through the loops. Immediately I ordered all my men to drop flat on their faces. As I expected, the volley from the fort that replied passed harmlessly over our heads.

“Now for it!” I cried.

“Forward, in the name of the King, and for the honor of Salem!” was the answer from the men.

I was leading the advance, and in less than a minute it seemed to me, we were at the stockade. The men strove to climb over, but were fiercely beaten back by the French and Indians. Guns were used as clubs now, for there had been no time to reload on either side. Man after man of my little force was hurled backward from the top of the stockade, some suffering grievously. It was cut and slash and thrust with me, without stopping to take breath. I was on top of the hickory fence, supporting myself by a small foothold on a larger tree than some of the others. Those below me, inside the stockade, thrust at me, but I gave back as good as they sent, and my sword turned red.

A big Indian, hideous in paint, leaped to the top and struck at my head with his keen little axe. I dodged the 88blow, and the weapon buried itself to the middle in a sapling. Then, while he vainly tried to pull his tomahawk out, I raised my sword and brought it down on his naked head, shearing through his scalp lock and nigh cutting him to the chin. He fell back, ugly enough in his death agony, and his hand clutched the axe so strongly that it came out from where the wood clipped it.

Now there was a sudden rally to this part of the stockade. I had time to see that soldiers were pouring from around the front, or seaward, side of the fort, before I leaped back to the ground. This told me more plainly than a message that the sloops no longer sufficed to hold the enemy’s attention. The whole force of the fort would now engage us. I hastily retreated my men, until we had put ourselves beyond musket shot. Then we halted to take account of the damage we had received, and to plan how we might save ourselves from utter annihilation; for it would not be long ere we should have to battle against fearful and heavy odds.

Three of our men had been laid low ............