It so happened that the two were Lambert's and Conrad's rifles. As they both at the same time came up it was not by mere chance that both took their guns with the left hand, for at the next moment their right hands clasped, and thus they stood before Catherine, who, blushing deeply, took a step back, fearing that her nearness should anew break the bond of the brothers. But the minister laid his hand on the hands of the brothers as they held each other with a firm grasp, and said: "As these two who had for a moment lost each other, and in the hour of danger have again found each other, to be and to remain, in life and in death and in eternity united, so let us all, dear brothers and sisters, thank and praise God that we here stand together so united, and that, in this solemn hour, which according to all human calculation is our last, we are fulfilling the chief commandment, and are loving one another. Since life can offer us nothing greater than this, though we should live a thousand years, let us without murmuring take our departure from this dear life. We do not give it up lightly. We have defended it as well as we could. But we are only flesh and blood, and this our fortress is wood. God, however, who made us in his own likeness and breathed his breath into us--God is a spirit and a strong tower." As the minister uttered the word, then, as though the Spirit to whom they were praying had inspired it, the sentiment it awakened passed through the little assembly and Luther's battle-hymn sounded forth as if from one mouth: A Strong tower is our God-- A good defense and armor; He keeps us free in every need Which us has yet befallen; The old and angry fiend, Earnestly he means, Great might and much craft His dreadful armor is, On earth there's nothing like him. With our own might nothing's done; We surely are quite helpless; There fights for us the very Man, Whom God himself has chosen. Ask you who is He? He's called Jesus Christ, The Lord Sabaoth, There is no other God; The field he'll not surrender. And were the world of devils full, Would they us wholly swallow, So fear we not so very much; We yet shall surely prosper. There they were, on every side, as though the creek and the prairie and the woods had spit them out at once. They came on in wild leaps, swinging axes and guns and brush-bundles. French and Indians, hunters and dogs, rushed on to battle. In a moment they flew across the narrow intervening space, down into the ditch, up the wall, in frenzied motion, digging with their nails, one on another's shoulder, up, up. Up but not over--at least not the first.