Every one now eagerly awaited the signal for the combat. The advance party had reached a point about half-way over the ground, when the shrill scream of an eagle rose in the air. At the same instant, the clatter of a dozen rifles, and the fierce war-cry of the thirty Iroquois, burst upon the ear. The very trees about the unfortunate Algonquins seemed to turn into frenzied warriors, who, brandishing their tomahawks, rushed upon their foe. The canoes were thrown to the ground, and in the confusion which followed, brave deeds were done. A fierce hand-to-hand fight ensued, but the Algonquins, mowed down by that first fire, and hopelessly outclassed, were driven nearer and nearer to that perilous brink, where leapt the mighty cataract into the foaming rapids and whirlpools below.
A few bold spirits, rather than leave their scalps in the hands of their enemies, leapt into the chasm beneath, and were never seen again. Except these, not a soul escaped the vengeance of the Iroquois.
The two braves in charge of the prisoners were the first to fall, for from their first landing they had been covered by the rifles of the hunter and Jamie. The latter then drew his hunting-knife from its sheath, and rushing forward, cut the thongs that bound the two prisoners, and quickly drew them out of the mêlée into a place of safety, and left the contest to the Iroquois, for he had no doubt whatever of what the result would be, and taking scalps was not exactly to his liking.
Meanwhile, the White Eagle wielded his tomahawk with all the strength and fury of an Iroquois chief. He fought his way to where Red Wolf was heading and encouraging his braves, and hewed him down. It was quickly over, and in less than a quarter of an hour the Iroquois were masters of the field.
"Thanks, Jamie! You have saved my life, and I can never repay you. I had given up all hope of escape. So rigidly were we watched that there was not the slightest opportunity for us to gain our freedom. We were to have been tortured and put to death at sunset, at soon as we had reached the shambles of Fort Oswego, for you know the French have taken the place, after a dreadful slaughter, and now claim to be masters of both shores of the lake. Still, all that is past now, and I am thankful to be with my friends once more. Jamie, old fellow, how can I thank you for all this?"
"You've had a narrow squeak, Jack, but you must thank the hunter here, and Swift Arrow, who I believe has not taken food since you were made a prisoner. Come!" and Jamie led his old comrade towards the others.
"Let me introduce you to the 'Great Paleface Hunter' who held your trail till the White Eagle could arrive with his braves."
"What! the Grey Badger, the friend of the chief?"
"The same. He is a mighty paleface, and I have learnt to love him already. He is the most renowned hunter in all the forests south of the lakes."
So, while the Indians harvested the spoils of the enemy, the three palefaces lit a fire, and cooked a breakfast from a large salmon, speared in the river below, satisfied the pangs of hunger at a spot a little apart from the braves, near by the lower end of the portage, and then talked for an hour about all the news that had filtered through the forest relative to the great conflict, which was already raging so fiercely on both banks of the St. Lawrence.