“We have induced as many as we could to seek refuge,” he said. “It hurts me as much as you to have the valley ravaged while we sit quiet here. But I know that we have no chance against so large a force, and if we fall what is to become of the hundreds whom we now protect?” But the murmur of protest grew. All the younger men were indignant. They would not seek shelter for themselves while others were suffering. A young lieutenant saw from a window two fires spring up and burn like torch lights against the sky. They were houses blazing before the Indian brand. “Look at that!” he cried, pointing with an accusing finger, “and we are here, under cover, doing nothing!” A deep angry mutter went about the room, but Colonel Butler, although the flush remained on his face, still shook his head. He glanced at Tom Ross, the oldest of the five. “You know about the Indian force,” he exclaimed. “What should we do?” The face of Tom Ross was very grave, and he spoke slowly, as was his wont. “It's a hard thing to set here,” he exclaimed, “but it will be harder to go out an' meet 'em on their own ground, an' them four or five to one.” “We must not go out,” repeated the Colonel, glad of such backing. The door was thrust open, and an officer entered. “A rumor has just arrived, saying that the entire Davidson family has been killed and scalped,” he said. A deep, angry cry went up. Colonel Butler and the few who stood with him were overborne. Such things as these could not be endured, and reluctantly the commander gave his consent. They would go out and fight. The fort and its enclosures were soon filled with the sounds of preparation, and the little army was formed rapidly. “We will fight by your side, of course,” said Henry, “but we wish to serve on the flank as an independent band. We can be of more service in that manner.” The colonel thanked them gratefully. “Act as you think best,” he said. The five stood near one of the gates, while the little force formed in ranks. Almost for the first time they were gloomy upon going into battle. They had seen the strength of that army of Indians, renegades, Tories, Canadians, and English advancing under the banner of England, and they knew the power and fanaticism of the Indian leaders. They believed that the terrible Queen Esther, tomahawk in hand, had continually chanted to them her songs of blood as they came down the river. It was now the third of July, and valley and river were beautiful in the golden sunlight. The foliage showed vivid and deep green on either line of high hills. The summer sun had never shown more kindly over the lovely valley.