Old McKinstry said: "Don't you see, boys, why we don't advance? Because it's all nonsense and folly. We have no orders to go ahead, and Rogers knows it's nothing but murder to put us up before that wall to be shot down. We're doing the best work where we are. See me take off that officer with the white coat." He fired, and the officer fell back. "There, if you can knock over three or four of them, you've done your share." "He's right, after all, Ben. We're killing more men by picking them off than the regulars are." [Sidenote: THEY RESCUE A BRAVE MAN] I felt easier in my mind after this talk. We stood among the branches, and fired at the heads that appeared above the breastwork. These assaults were kept up all the afternoon. At five the most determined one took place, and some of the Highlanders succeeded in getting over the breastwork, only to be immediately bayoneted. Colonel Campbell was killed in the fort, and Major Campbell was badly wounded. While this attack on the right was going on, we saw a provincial who had crept close to the breastwork, and was picking off the Frenchmen. He was seen by them, and a man fired and wounded him. But he jumped up and brained the man with his hatchet. Then he fell down. It was a pity to let such a brave man lie there to be killed and scalped by the Indians. I turned to Edmund and said, "Can't we get that man out of there?" "I will do what you will." I shouted to our men to cover us as well as they could by their fire, and we ran forward. The Rangers advanced a little, and opened fire at every head that showed above the breastwork. Edmund and I got through the abattis and ran up to the wall. We joined hands. The man sat on them, put his arms around our necks, and we ran off with him. Some of the enemy fired at us, but the Highlanders were taking most of their attention, and our men were good marksmen, so that but few showed their heads above the breastwork. Still, the bullets whistled about us in a most uncomfortable manner. We found that the man we had saved was a Rhode Island provincial, named William Smith. He was boiling over with wrath against the French, swore at them like a pirate, and though badly wounded would have crept back if we had not prevented him. Amos listened to him with wonder, and said: "Your f-friend Smith, Ben, couldn't have b-been raised when there were tythingmen, or he'd have just lived in the stocks. He must have great natural g-gifts to be able to swear like that." "Here come the regulars again." [Sidenote: A PANIC] They passed through the fallen trees, marched up to the breastwork, and again made an attempt to scale it. The French raked them with grapeshot, and soon they came running back nearly frantic with fear. We let them pass and gazed at them with astonishment.