One hundred and fifty outlaws, under the orders of Tête de Plume, had been secretly sent into the fort by George Clinton. He had then, with Charbonneau, gone and concealed himself near Lagrenay's hut. Camotte had been sent to the village of the Huron Bisons to Numank-Charake, and Bright-eye, to ask for the assistance of all the warriors of the tribe who could be spared. On the other hand, Tom Mitchell, at the head of his most daring companions, had placed himself in a position to be at hand at anytime. But if the defence had been well arranged, the attack was most fierce and desperate; the redskins fought like demons; brave, well armed, and counting on the vast superiority of their numbers, the Indians rushed to the charge against the intrenchments with a ferocity quite unusual. These intrenchments had been hastily thrown up, and could not long resist such an attack. Tubash-Shah, at the head of a picked band of warriors, did wonders. He was a host in himself. The struggle became at one time so desperate that Tom Mitchell himself began to despair; then it was that he dashed off to the hut of Lagrenay, and called to arms all who were collected together in deliberation. Then he started again at the head of the reinforcement, like a storm cloud on the wing. Again the combat seemed desperate. The war cry of the American Indians and the hurrahs of the whites were mixed with the fusillade. Then a rush of horse was heard, an awful war whoop, and three hundred warriors, led by Numank-Charake, Bright-eye, and Camotte, appeared on the scene. Tom Mitchell gave a cry of joy. He divided his terrible cavaliers into three detachments, one commanded by Numank and Bright-eye, gave half his outlaws to Oliver, and took the rest under his own immediate orders. Then at a given signal, the three troops rushed, with horrible yells and cries, upon the astonished assailants. Though taken aback, the brave redskins fronted both ways, and made a most terrible defence. Samuel Dickson and his brother meantime contrived to enter the settlement, amid joyous acclamations. It was time; the palisades and intrenchments were giving way, and the Indians were rushing in. The combat became now gigantic in its proportions. The redskins, led by Tubash-Shah, fought with desperate valour. He kept the _élite_ of his men together, and worked his way towards the interior of the settlement. Presently he drew forth his human thighbone whistle and darted for the house. He had seen Diana. The young girl, seeing the demon covered by blood and powder, brandishing his hatchet, and forcing, with a hideous cry, his horse towards the women, gave a desperate shriek of agonised terror. "Ah, ah!" cried Tubash-Shah, in triumph; "The paleface girl. At last she is mine." He urged forward his horse, which reared with abject terror, and threw his master heavily. Dardar, the faithful dog, always in attendance on Diana, had seized the warhorse by the nostrils.