But this victory was attended by the loss of three of his men—Nicholas Duval, a servant at the fort, killed by the Indians, and two others who, unaccustomed to the management of their canoe, had been drowned in the engagement. Dollard seized the spoils, left behind by the Iroquois, and, moreover, a canoe which served him in good stead later in the expedition. Meanwhile the party made their way back sadly to Ville Marie with the dead body, without doubt to assist at the burial of Nicholas Duval on April 20th, for the parish registers give this date. The other bodies had not as yet been discovered.
They were joined by one of the young men who had failed in his oath and penitently sought to redeem himself. Thus the seventeen was now complete.
As men, who might never see their friends again, they bade a general adieu to Ville Marie, and again embarked on the fateful journey whence no one returned to tell the tale. Though bold of heart, many of them were not expert at handling their canoes, so that they were delayed eight days at a rapid (Ste. Anne's) at the end of the Island of Montreal. But their indomitable courage surpassed their inexperience, and they reached, on May 1st, the end of the tumultuous rapids of the Long Leap, or the "Long Sault," at the foot of the Chaudières Fall, on the Ottawa River, at a distance of about eight or ten leagues above Montreal.
There Dollard found a dilapidated war camp abandoned by the Iroquois, the previous autumn. It was not flanked, but defended only by a wretched palisading. It was dangerously overlooked too by a neighbouring wooden slope. Within this feeble fortress, for want of better protection, he cantoned his men and there awaited the canoes of the enemy who must come down the Sault in single file on their return from the chase.
Soon, to their surprise, a body of forty Hurons and four Algonquins came with credentials from the governor of Montreal, requesting Dollard to admit them to a share in their glorious enterprise. These were led by the chief, Anontaha, the Huron, and Mitiwemeg, the Algonquin. Anontaha had descended from Quebec with his Hurons, the relics of a once powerful nation, to waylay Iroquois returning from hunting, and at Three Rivers he had met Mitiwemeg with his Algonquins on a like quest. Having challenged each other's valour, they determined to push to Montreal, where likely there would be an opportunity with the Iroquois to test each other's courage in the fight. Arrived at Montreal the French, "whose fault, it is," says Dollier de Casson, "to talk too much," told them of the whereabouts of Dollard's expedition. Amazed at the daring of so slight a force, and jealous of having been forestalled in the work of falling upon the Iroquois, they sought permission to join them; there the vaunting chiefs could show their valour. Accordingly they arrived with de Maisonneuve's letter which warned Dollard not to put his trust in their bravery, but to act as if he had his Frenchmen alone to help him.
Dollard received their parties to his future sorrow. Thus reinforced the anxious warriors bivouacked around the redoubt, near the hoarse-sounding waters of the leaping rapids. At last, those on scout duty reported the coming of the advance guard of 300 Iroquois down the stream. These were on their way to join the 400 more at the Richelieu Islands to attack Three Rivers, Quebec and then Montreal.
Down to the place where they would likely land, Dollard led his men and ensconced them in ambush, till two canoes filled with Iroquois arrived, and no sooner had these put foot on land than the land force fired into their midst, but so precipitously that some escaped, and running across the woods to meet their party on the shore above, cried out: "We have been defeated at the little fort, which is quite near here. There is a party of French and Indians there."
Their approach found the party in prayer from which they arose hurriedly, seeking the shelter of the palisading and leaving in the confusion their kettles slung over the camp fires preparing for their meal.
The Iroquois quickly advanced towards the redoubt, thinking to reduce it easily, but they were frequently repulsed, with much loss and confusion. Driven back, and refused a parley, by which they sought to entice the Frenchmen from the fort, the enemy began to construct a retrenchment facing the redoubt, determined to begin the siege. Meanwhile, during this delay, the brave defenders strengthened their outworks (it would seem an obvious duty too long delayed) by building a second palisading within and filling in the space between, with stones and earth to a man's height, in such way, however, that they were loopholes large enough to put three gunmen at each. When the enemy began next to approach, they poured their scrap iron and lead into them with deadly effect. To add to their rage and humiliation the Iroquois saw the heads of their comrades placed on the tops of the stockade palisades. They now broke up the French and Huron canoes, and putting them into a blaze sought to fire the stockade with them. But finding themselves unable, even with their numbers, to capture the fort, they sent a canoe to warn the 500 at the Richelieu Islands to come to their assistance. While delaying for their reinforcement they blockaded the fort, thinking at least to force it to capitulate, through thirst. For a week the enemy's fire could not be of avail. Thirst, consequent on the dearth of water in the interior of the fort, might yet effect their surrender. Water was so scarce that the defenders could hardly swallow their hominy (rough Indian corn). Their efforts at digging were rewarded only by a little trickling stream of muddy water, altogether insufficient to quench their thirst. Thus they were forced to make sudden sallies to the river, 200 feet away, under shelter of the guns from the fort, to fill their small pots of water, since they had already lost their kettles and tin pans.