A slim, short officer, dressed in blue and white uniform, and minus his hat, which had been shot from his head, stood erect for an instant, waving his sword and the pistol he carried in his other hand. Then, turning to face the wall from which the stinging hail of bullets had come so suddenly, he leaped at it, and in a little while was desperately striving to clamber over it.
"Men on the extreme right reload muskets," sang out Steve. "The others use clubbed muskets or tomahawks."
There was no time for more, for the remainder of the attackers had now joined their leader and were already within a few paces of the wall. As Steve leaped to his feet and swung his ponderous musket butt over his shoulder twenty of the enemy were within a couple of yards of him, and in an instant the pistol of the leader was pointing at his head, there was the flash of powder in the pan, a sharp report, and a strange feeling under his cap. The cap rose of a sudden, spun round, and fell at his feet, while Steve grabbed for one brief instant at his scalp and at the locks of hair which had been so neatly shorn from it. Up went his butt, he swung it over his head and brought it down with a crash which broke the Frenchman's guard, wrenched his sword out of his hand, and sent him rolling backwards doubled up like a ball.
"On to 'em, boys. See the Cap'n. Drive 'em back same as he did."
It was Pete's voice which burst in on the babel of shouts which had broken from attackers and defenders, while the burly backwoodsman himself leaped over the wall, his musket swinging over his head and the butt swaying this way and that, clearing a path on every side.
"Up and over the wall," shouted Steve. "Now, send them back."
It was all over in less than a minute, even before the men told off to load their muskets had accomplished that task. One desperate onslaught of the backwoodsmen had sent the Frenchmen rolling, sliding, and tumbling down the steep slope till they were out of sight behind the falling bank of snow. Only their voices could be heard, the cries and moans of the wounded, that and the deep voice of the two cannon which had ceased their fire for one instant as the combatants came to hand grips, and which opened again now, the gunners having learned that the attack had been beaten off.
Thud! One ball struck the rock a foot above Steve's head and covered him with splintered rock and snow. Then came the second. They could hear the whirr of the ball as it rushed through the air, the sound rising to that high-pitched shriek which has made many a recruit, ay, and many an old soldier too, bend his knees and his head and look uncomfortable. Crash! It hit that face of the hollow which had been filled in with branches, thudded against the rocky wall beyond, and then——