"I wish an army of six thousand men was really coming this way," said Henry, when he heard of the story told to the Indians.
"That was made up, just to scare those fellows," answered his uncle.
"I know it. But some sort of an army may be coming."
"Well, it can't get here any too quick, Henry. To me matters look exceedingly black," returned the trader.
Day after day passed and still no attack was made upon the fort. The vigilance of the garrison was not lessened, however, and every man present had to do guard duty. This was not so bad in good weather, but Henry found it far from comfortable to stand guard during the wet and dreary nights. Yet he was used to the life of a soldier and did not complain.
"It puts me in mind of the time I spent on Lake Ontario and along the St. Lawrence," he said.
"Your experience as a soldier is now standing you in good stead," said James Morris. "If an attack should come, the captain will expect every man here to do a full soldier's duty."
One day Henry was on guard duty near the lower end of the fort when he saw two white men coming across the river in a canoe. Just as they reached the middle of the stream, the leading man in the craft threw up his arms and pitched headlong into the water, an arrow having pierced his side. The other man at once fell down into the canoe, and several arrows flew over his head.
Henry lost no time in sounding the alarm, and soon a dozen soldiers and backwoodsmen went to the rescue of the man in the canoe. A rifle bullet pierced the craft and it began to sink. Then the man set up a shout for help, in French.
"He says he can't swim," said one of the backwoodsmen.