Baffled, Beaujeu withdrew while the redskinned allies of the French frittered away the hours in debate--and the spies brought word that Braddock was encamped in Long Run valley. The indomitable Beaujeu, however, went and examined the ground at the ford of the Monongahela, which Braddock would pass on the next day. On the ninth, however, the Indians brought word that they would not join in the unequal contest. But even as they spoke an Indian scout came running down the narrow trail toward the fort. He brought the news of Braddock's advance on the Monongahela fords. Beaujeu, cunning actor, played his last card desperately and well: "I am determined," he cried, "to go out against the enemy; I am certain of victory. What! will you suffer your father to depart alone?" The reproach stung the savage breasts. In a moment hundreds of hoarse voices were drowning the long roll of the drums. A mad scene followed; wild with enthusiasm, casks of bullets and flints and powder were rolled to fort gates and their heads knocked out. About these the savages, even while painting themselves for the fray, came in crowds, each one free to help himself as he needed. Then came the race for the ford of the Monongahela. Down the narrow trail burst the horde of warriors, led by the daring Beaujeu dressed in savage costume, an Indian gorget swinging from his neck for good fortune. Behind him poured Delawares, Ojibways, Pottawattamies, Abenakis, Caughnawagas, Iroquois, Ottawas, led by their young King Pontiac; Shawanese, Wyandots, Hurons, led by Athanasius from the mission of Lorette, who gloried in a name "torn from the most famous page of Christian history." With the six hundred savages ran two hundred Canadians and four score French regulars. This rabble could not have left Fort Duquesne before high noon; no wonder Beaujeu ran--fearing Braddock had passed the battle-ground he had chosen last night. In that case he despaired of delaying the advance even a single day; yet in one day the expected reinforcements might arrive from the north!