As they trudged forward, along the Indian trail which led along the bluff on the east side of the Niagara River, the youths related their various adventures. Barringford was astonished to learn how Dave had been nearly drowned and starved and how Henry and others had come up just in the nick of time.
"It's the work of an all-wise an' all-powerful Providence, thet's what it is, lads," he said, reverently. "When we can't help ourselves it does seem jest like an arm reached down out o' the clouds to give us a lift."
On and still on went the soldiers, some keeping to the trail and others skirting the river and the thick forest beyond. To those who had been on guard duty during the day it was a tiresome tramp, but the life of the soldier, as I have had occasion to say before, is not all glory, but is usually a mixture of one-tenth glory and nine-tenths work and duty-doing.
At last came the welcome command to halt. The soldiers were now less than a mile away from the falls and in the stillness of the early morning the great body of falling waters could be distinctly heard—a muffled roar which keeps on day and night now just as it did in those days and just as it has done probably for centuries upon centuries.
The rangers to which our friends belonged came to a halt in a little grove of trees and both Dave and Henry were glad that they were not called upon to do picket duty. They sank down to rest, and despite the undertone of excitement observable on every hand, fell into a light slumber, from which Barringford did not arouse them until it was absolutely necessary.
When they awoke there was a fierce yelling in the distance, followed by a number of scattering shots. The fight had opened between the Mohawks on one side and the Iroquois on the other. Soon the French traders leaped into the fray, and then the soldiers on both sides followed.
The French and their allies had come around the falls by the portage trail and the battle began at some little distance below the falls. The Indians fought like so many demons, both sides taking as many scalps as possible. Soon the forest and the open space were filled with gun-smoke.
"Forward!" came the cry. "Forward! We must drive them back! They must never reach the fort!" And forward went our friends, and in a moment more Dave, Henry, and Barringford found themselves in the very thickest of the fray.
Dirty looking traders confronted them, several Dave had seen before, on the Kinotah, and some of these tried their best to bring down the son of the English trader they so hated. But Dave was un-touched, although one bullet did pierce his jacket. The rush of the English rangers was successful and soon the Frenchmen scattered to the right and the left.
But now a body of French soldiery was coming forward on the double-quick. The rangers had no time to reload their weapons, and so leaped forward for a hand-to-hand contest, such as soldiers of to-day know little or nothing about, where bayonet met clubbed musket and sword the long and equally dangerous hunting knife of the pioneer, and where many a contest was settled in short order with the naked fist, if no better weapon was handy. It was a time to bring out "real grit" in the best meaning of that term.