For that the French would march against us in force was well-nigh certain, once they learned of Jumonville's defeat, of which the Indians would soon inform them, and that we should be outnumbered three or four to one seemed inevitable. But no one thought of retreat, our commander, I am sure, least of all. He seemed everywhere at once, heartening the men, inspecting equipment, overseeing the preparations for defense. The only hostile element in the camp was the company of regulars under Captain Mackay, who refused to assist in any of the work, asserting that they were employed only to fight. Captain Mackay, too, holding his commission from the king, claimed to outrank Colonel Washington, and yielded him but a reluctant and sullen obedience.

Christopher Gist, who had just come from Will's Creek with tidings of Colonel Fry's death, was of the opinion that a much more effective resistance might be made at his plantation, twelve miles further on, where there were some strong log buildings and a ground, so he claimed, admirably suited for intrenchment. Accordingly, we set out for there, arriving after a fatiguing journey. The horses were in worse case than ever, and only two miserable teams and a few tottering pack-horses remained capable of working. Finally, on the twenty-ninth of June, the Half King, who had been our faithful friend throughout, brought us word that seven hundred French and three or four hundred Indians had marched from Fort Duquesne against us. As the news spread through the camp, the officers left the intrenchments upon which they had been at work, and gathered to discuss the news. There a message from Colonel Washington summoned us to a conference at Gist's cabin.

"Gentlemen," he said, when we had all assembled, "I need not tell you that the situation is most critical. We can scarce hope to successfully oppose an enemy who outnumbers us three to one, and yet 't is impossible to retreat without abandoning all our baggage and munitions, since we have no means of transport."

He fell silent for a moment, and no one spoke. I saw that the worry of the last few weeks had left its mark upon him, for there was a line between his eyes which I had never seen before, but which never left him afterward.

"What I propose," he said at last, "is to fall back to Great Meadows. I believe it to be better fitted for defense than this place, which is commanded by half a dozen hills, and where we could not hope to hold out against artillery fire. At Great Meadows we can strengthen our intrenchment in the middle of the plain, and the French will hardly dare attempt to carry it by assault, since they must advance without cover for two hundred yards or more. It is a charming field for an encounter. Has any one a better plan?"

Mackay was the first to speak.

"'Tis better to lose our baggage than to lose both it and our lives," he said. "The French may not care to risk an assault, but they have only to sit down about the work for a day or two to starve us out."

"That is true," answered Washington, and his face was very grave; "yet reinforcements cannot be far distant. Two independent companies from New York reached Annapolis a fortnight since, and are doubtless being hurried forward. Other companies have arrived in the colony, and must be near at hand. Besides," he added, in a firmer tone, "I cannot consent to return to Virginia without striking at least one blow at the French, else this expedition might just as well have never been begun."

"That is the point!" cried Stephen. "Let us not run away until we see something to run from. Your plan is the best possible under the circumstances, Colonel Washington."

We all of us echoed this opinion, and after thanking us warmly, our commander bade us make ready at once for the return to Great Meadows. The baggage was done into packs as large as a man could carry; a force was told off to drag the swivels; the officers added their horses to the train, and prepared to carry packs just as the men did. Colonel Washington left half of his personal baggage behind, paying some soldiers four pistoles to carry the remainder. So at daybreak we set out, the sufferings of our men being greatly aggravated by the conduct of the regulars, who refused to carry a pound of baggage or place a hand upon the ropes by which we dragged our guns after us.