defensive into the offensive, but the leaders restrained them.

"No use to waste life in any such foolish fashion," said shrewd Adam
Colfax. "While we stay under the cannon they won't rush us, but if we
follow them into the bushes they'll have an overwhelming advantage."

It began to lighten a little, but the wind blew stronger and very cold for
the time of the year. The red line was withdrawn further into the forest,
but it continued an intermittent fire, and now and then uttered a
challenging war whoop. The cannon every ten minutes sent a shot among
them, but whether it did any damage the Americans could not tell. The
defenders saved their bullets, firing only when there seemed to be a
chance for a hit, and thus the hours dragged their leaden weight slowly
by.

A score of the Americans had been wounded by the rifle fire, but in most
cases the wounds were slight. Six were dead and they were taken to the
boats, where stones were tied to them and they were dropped into the
Mississippi to disappear forever. Rovers, adventurers, masterless men,
they had been, but they died in a good cause, and they were not without
mourners, as their bodies slid into the brown waters.

Adam Colfax had coffee made on several of the boats provided with a
cooking apparatus, and it was served in the darkness to those who fought
on shore. One man had the tin cup shot from his hand as he was raising it
to his lips, but he calmly called for another, and when he had drunk it,
went on with his part of the battle.

The hot coffee heartened them wonderfully, and the ten minute cannon shots
were good company. They grew to look for them, and so strong is habit,