Hastening out, he gave his orders in quick succession, and with surprising alacrity for a volunteer force, the men fell in. Two companies were soon complete. “Now, Captain Bruyére, if your men do as well as you will yourself all will be well; and for you, Captain Daly, I know by long experience what a loyal Irishman is. Hold your ground until I get up to you with the other companies.” The men quietly descended the bank and plunged into the river, which took them nearly to the middle, for owing to the recent rains it was deep. Gaining the opposite bank, they were swallowed up in the woods. Gazing over the tree-tops, which looked peaceful in the calm of a dull, moist, autumnal day, Maggie wondered what was going on beneath their cover--wished she could see the advancing Americans and the men who had just gone to meet them. There was an interval of suspense. Then, suddenly, there was a sharp volley and the quiet air became filled with shouts, and yells, and cries of frightened men. All at once there burst from the bush on to the river bank, a good way up, a string of habitants, flying in terror, their blue tuques streaming behind them, and few of them having muskets, for they had thrown them away to aid their flight. “The cowardly loons,” muttered Macdonell, “it would serve them right to give them a taste of shot.” On reaching the ford, they tumultuously dashed in. As the foremost came up the bank the Colonel demanded an explanation. They had been surprised by the unexpected appearance of a great host of Americans and ran to save themselves. Attention, however, was now attracted from the fugitives by the recommencement of the firing, which was sharp and continuous, relieved by the yells and whoops of the Indians. “Hasten!” shouted Macdonell to the troops who were lining up, “do you not hear the firing? Our comrades need us.”