The men gathered outside on the broad plain to watch the contestants, and soon caught their ardor. They saw the ball roll back and forth, chased by the shouting players, and they joined in the cheers over the skill shown by them. More than three hundred brawny warriors were in the sport running to and fro, striking strong, quick blows with their bats, tumbling over one another, and acting for all the world like so many football players. For that which followed we are indebted to a trader named Alexander Henry, who was at Mackinaw at the time. In the midst of the exciting scene, some one struck the ball a hard blow. It rose high in air, and circling over, dropped inside the pickets of the fort. It was the most natural thing in the world for the players to dash headlong after it, and the officers and soldiers who were looking on suspected nothing when they saw the panting horde swarm through the gates and inside the stockades. The knocking of the ball over the pickets was not an accident, but had been agreed upon beforehand. It was the trick by which the Indians gained a fatal advantage without rousing the distrust of their victims. In a twinkling the players turned from the ball, and drawing their hidden weapons, attacked the garrison. They cut down and scalped the Englishmen, who were taken so by surprise that no defence could be offered. It was a heartrending massacre. Henry was not among those who were watching the game, but was in a room in one of the houses, writing letters to send to Montreal by a trader who was about to leave the post in his canoe. Hearing the unusual racket outside, he rose from his chair and looked out of the window. A horrifying sight met his gaze. He saw his countrymen falling on every hand, the Indians slaying and scalping them without mercy. On the outskirts of the slayers and victims, stood a number of Canadian villagers calmly looking on, as if they felt no special interest in the awful tragedy. Henry saw his own peril, and the thought came to him that the only place of possible safety was in one of the houses of the Canadians. It would not do to stay where he was, for the Indians had already begun searching the dwellings of the English for more victims. Bounding down stairs, he dashed out of the rear, and climbed a low fence which divided his yard from that of his next door neighbor, who was a Canadian. Plunging into the rear of the house, he saw the Canadian and members of his family gathered at the front and watching the fearful deeds from the windows. Henry appealed to the man to give him shelter until the outburst had spent itself. If he would hide him for the time, the trader would be safe, for the Indians did not offer any harm to the Canadians. The neighbor looked at Henry for a moment, and then coolly saying he could do nothing for him, shrugged his shoulders and turned back to view the dreadful scenes in front of his dwelling. [Illustration: THE SETTLERS' DEFENCE]