Thus we sailed away. Little of account marked our voyage and, at the end of the tenth day, we sighted the headland of St. Johns. In the meantime I had made no change in my plans, which were to make a feigned attack on the fort by means of the sloops, and, while it was going on, to bring my main force up and storm the rear.
Now that our journey’s end was at hand, we prepared for what was before us. The arms were removed from the chests they had been stored in. Ammunition was broken out, and all useless stuff put away below decks. In a short time we anchored in a little bay to the south of St. Johns, where the sloops might remain a day or two unobserved. From there I would lead my men for the detour. It was dusk when we had landed.
We camped that night on the shore. In the morning, when the sun shone slanting through the branches of the trees, we pressed on. Our march was through the virgin forest. Now we had to cut our way through dense underbrush, scaring from their nests the woodland fowl. Sometimes the sneaking figure of a wolf would be seen, protesting with a howl against the invasion of his home. Once a great bear, again a startled deer, crashed through the brush as we approached.
At night we lighted fires, to keep away the wild beasts, which we heard howling on all sides of us. And thus we pushed on until the third night when we camped in sight of the French watch-fires.
Then we ate a cold supper, nor did I permit any talk or laughter. In deep silence we made all in readiness for the attack in the morning. Guns that had been wet in fording streams were looked to, and the caked powder picked from the pans. Spare flints were placed in pouches, as were the bullets, while powder horns were freshly filled.
With the mournful hoot of the owls in my ears, I fell asleep. I awoke with the first streak of dawn. The sentinels were called in, the last word given, and we were ready for the attack. If Cory, in charge of the sloops, was on hand, all would be well. We marched to the edge of the forest, and just beyond us was the fort. It was with a heart that throbbed with some little excitement that I arranged my men in files, and gave the order:
“Forward!”
Out into the open we ran, and I called to the men to separate, that they might thereby offer a smaller mark to the enemy.
Looking toward the stronghold of the French, I saw, in the gray dawn, the sentinels on the ramparts. They looked down on us in wonder and then they shouted a warning and fired their muskets at us. The drum inside the fort beat the long roll of the call to arms. We were not to take them all unawares.
As we ran on, stooping to gain what little natural cover there was, dodging from side to side, I heard the dull boom and the roar of the sloops’ cannon, which told me that Cory was on hand.