The English chief--either informed of this ambuscade, or mistrusting the facility with which the dangerous navigation had been before accomplished--took the only precaution his difficult position permitted. To scour the neighborhood of the rapid stream with light troops would have been impossible, owing to the thick underwood every where arresting the human foot; and yet, from each dark clump of cedars, or from behind each projecting crag on the rugged banks, he might at any moment expect to see the deadly flash of the Canadian musket, and to hear the war-whoop of the savage. Bradstreet therefore determined on the precaution of proceeding in three divisions of canoes, within easy distances of each other; that thus, if any one were attacked, his stout boatmen might land from the others, and on equal terms encounter the assailants on the shore. He entered the first canoe; his gallant men followed with somewhat tumultuous good will. The day of their departure was the 3d of July; in that burning season the stream was low and difficult of navigation, and the stately trees and luxuriant underwood, rich in leafy honors, afforded complete concealment to the dangerous enemy. For nine miles the party forced their way up the Onondaga, laboriously but without interruption; at length they reached a spot where the waters flow in shallow rapids past a small island, and the dense woods throw their shade over the very margin of the stream. Suddenly, from the north shore, a loud volley, and a louder yell, broke through the silence of the wilderness. This first fire fell with deadly effect upon the leading division; but Bradstreet, with six of the survivors, forced their canoes quickly across the eddying current toward the island. Twenty of the enemy had at the same time plunged into the river, and, taking advantage of the ford, arrived before him; nevertheless, Bradstreet threw himself on shore, and with desperate courage faced the foe. After a sharp struggle, he even dislodged them from the island, and drove them back upon the main land. When the remaining canoes of the advanced division joined, his little force amounted to no more than twenty men. The French, enraged at their first repulse, vigorously renewed the attack with doubled numbers, but they were again beaten, and, leaving many of their foremost dead in the stream, returned to the shelter of the shore. A third time, however, the assailants, brave even in defeat, pushed across the ford with seventy men, and threw themselves upon the little knot of English. For nearly an hour, with fiery courage on the one side and stubborn resolution on the other, they fought among the rocks and trees, till the secluded spot, where perhaps human foot had never before trodden, was red with human blood. At length the French gave way, and, scattered and depressed, fell back upon the main body of their countrymen.