A few moments later we came in view of the enemy, drawn up in a line which extended from the river just above Wintermoot’s to the swamp at the foot of the hills, and then we were halted that some of our officers might advance to select a position for the battle. We were within musket-shot of the enemy, yet they did not molest us while we were making preparations for a fight, and again Master Morley had an explanation ready: “John Butler is well content to await our movements since it will thus be possible for him to see in what force we have come, and, later, he can make his arrangements accordingly.” Ten minutes afterward we were brought up to where the officers who had selected the battleground were standing, and, when each company had wheeled into line, Colonel Zebulon said, gravely: “Men, yonder is the enemy. We have come out here to fight, not only for liberty, but for life itself, and, what is dearer, to preserve our homes from conflagration, our women and children from the tomahawk. Stand firm at the first shock, and the Indians will give way. Every man to his duty!” John Butler, stripped of his feathers and other trappings, with a handkerchief tied around his head, stood with his so-called Rangers near the river bank; the Indians and Tories were in line to his right as far as the swamp. Johnson’s Greens were just behind the Tories, as if to keep them from running away, while here and there along the entire front were Indians with rifles, who would probably have called themselves sharpshooters. In a low tone our officers ordered us to advance a single pace each time we emptied our muskets, and to take careful aim instead of firing at random. Then we awaited the word, which seemed to me a long time coming, for it was mighty hard on one’s nerves to stand there facing those who had come to ravage the valley, knowing that within a few seconds we would be engaged in what must necessarily be a life or death struggle. “When the battle is over, unless by some queer chance we should have the best of it, if you lads are yet alive, retreat toward the north until you are half a mile or more up-stream, and then make the effort to cross,” Master Morley said, in a whisper. “If possible, I shall follow close at your heels; but, in case I cannot, and either of you live to see my dear ones, tell them that I could do no less than die when our neighbors demanded the sacrifice.” It was well for me that we got the word to open fire just then, for my knees were beginning to tremble beneath me, and in another moment it might have been possible for my comrades to see that I was not holding myself any too bravely. It was as if John Butler had instructed his men to take the word of command from Colonel Zebulon, for both armies fired at the same moment, and each advanced one pace.