"Bring your warriors up here," ordered Fred, and Golcher made a sign for the Senecas to approach.
They moved forward a few paces, but, mistrusting the purposes of the patriots, refused to come further. Golcher berated, and ordered them to advance, telling them—what they already knew—they were covered by the guns of the whites.
But they stood sullenly apart, and began moving in the direction of the river.
At this moment Dick Durkee called out:
"Lieutenant, shall we fire? We've got every wretch of 'em fast."
"Keep them covered, but don't shoot unless they raise their guns," called Fred, who was embarrassed by the unexpected turn.
"May I go with 'em?" asked Jake Golcher, in a cringing voice, beginning to back away from his dreaded master.
"Yes, go; and I pray Heaven none of us may ever look on your face again."
Fred should have been prepared for what followed, inasmuch as no one understood the treacherous nature of Tory and Indian better than he, but, as we have intimated, he was confronted by an unexpected condition of affairs, and was caught off his guard, so to speak.
He saw the warriors withdrawing, and already entering the wood on his left, while he stood in the full light of the camp-fire, calmly watching the movement.