Before Murphy could rise, LeNoir sprang over him and lit upon Macdonald like a cat, but Macdonald shook himself free and sprang back to the Glengarry line at the wall. “Mac an' Diabboil,” he roared, “Glengarry forever!” “Glengarry!” yelled the four Highlanders beside him, wild with the delight of battle. It was a plain necessity, and they went into it with free consciences and happy hearts. “Let me at him,” cried Murphy, struggling past LeNoir towards Macdonald. “Non! He is to me!” yelled LeNoir, dancing in front of Macdonald. “Here, Murphy,” called out Yankee, obligingly, “help yourself this way.” Murphy dashed at him, but Yankee's long arm shot out to meet him, and Murphy again found the floor. “Come on, boys,” cried Pat Murphy, Dan's brother, and followed by half a dozen others, he flung himself at Yankee and the line of men standing up against the wall. But Yankee's arms flashed out once, twice, thrice, and Pat Murphy fell back over his brother; two others staggered across and checked the oncoming rush, while Dannie Ross and big Mack Cameron had each beaten back their man, and the Glengarry line stood unbroken. Man for man they were far more than a match for their opponents, and standing shoulder to shoulder, with their backs to the wall, they taunted Murphy and his gang with all the wealth of gibes and oaths at their command. “Where's the rest of your outfit, Murphy?” drawled Yankee. “Don't seem's if you'd counted right.” “It is a cold day for the parley voos,” laughed Big Mack Cameron. “Come up, lads, and take a taste of something hot.” Then the Murphy men, clearing away the fallen, rushed again. They strove to bring the Highlanders to a clinch, but Yankee's voice was high and clear in command. “Keep the line, boys! Don't let 'em draw you!” And the Glengarry men waited till they could strike, and when they struck men went down and were pulled back by their friends. “Intil them, bhoys!” yelled Dan Murphy, keeping out of range himself. “Intil the divils!” And again and again his men crowded down upon the line against the wall, but again and again they were beaten down or hurled back bruised and bleeding. Meantime LeNoir was devoting himself to Black Hugh at one end of the line, dancing in upon him and away again, but without much result. Black Hugh refused to be drawn out, and fought warily on defense, knowing the odds were great and waiting his chance to deliver one good blow, which was all he asked. The Glengarry men were enjoying themselves hugely, and when not shouting their battle-cry, “Glengarry forever!” or taunting their foes, they were joking each other on the fortunes of war. Big Mack Cameron, who held the center, drew most of the sallies. He was easy-tempered and good-natured, and took his knocks with the utmost good humor.