There was no time to say more, for the shooting had now started up once more. It came from three sides. The enemy remained hidden behind the trees and it was only occasionally that the English could get a shot in return.
"Will they make a general attack, do you think?" asked Henry, of Gangley.
"That depends on how strong they are," was the reply.
It was a fearfully hot day and those behind the improvised fortification suffered much both from heat and thirst. It was only occasionally that a French soldier or an Indian showed himself and often he was picked off before he could again find shelter.
Presently, about two in the afternoon, came a fierce yelling of Indians to the west of the fort, and the redskins could be seen moving through the forest, although they took care not to expose themselves too much to an attack.
"They are coming!" was the cry.
But Haldimand was not to be caught by any trick, and he divided his force, one half to meet the expected attack of the redmen and the others to guard the side upon which the French were still located.
But the attack did not come off. Not over a score of redmen ran out into the open, and when three of these were stretched lifeless by the rangers, or the Royal Americans, as they were officially designated, the remainder ran back with all possible speed.
After this came another lull, and Henry ran to where Barringford had been placed. He found the old frontiersman propped up against some brushwood, over which a pair of blankets had been spread. He tried to smile at the youth.
"Got it putty bad," said Barringford, in a low voice. "In—the—neck—can't talk."