"That was cool," remarked Higgins.

"Bravely cool," added old Harmar.

"Oh, it was necessary to be cool and brave in those times," said Morton.
"But to go on with my story; the respite was very short. The tories and
Indians were exasperated at the successful resistance of the garrison,
and rushed up to the block-house. Five of them thrust the muzzles of
their pieces through the loop-holes; but Mrs. Shell seized an axe, and,
with well-directed blows, ruined every musket by bending the barrels. At
the same time, Shell and his sons kept up a brisk fire, and drove the
enemy off. About twilight, the old man went up stairs, and called out in
a loud voice to his wife, that Captain Small was approaching from Fort
Dayton, with succor. In a few minutes, he exclaimed, 'Captain Small,
march your company round on this side of the house. Captain Getman, you
had better wheel your men off to the left, and come up on that side.'
This, you see, was a stratagem. The enemy were deceived, took to their
heels, and fled through the woods, leaving eleven men killed and six
wounded. M'Donald was taken to Fort Dayton the next day, where his leg
was amputated; but the blood flowed so freely that he died in a few
hours. On his person was found a silver-mounted tomahawk, which had
thirty-two scalp notches on the handle, to show how he had imitated the
savages."

"But what became of the two sons who were captured by the tories and
Indians?" inquired young Harmar.

"They were carried to Canada," replied Morton. "They afterwards asserted
that nine of the wounded tories died on the way. But some of the Indians