whom he conversed for some time eagerly--occasionally replying, as it
appeared, to objections, and offering explanations as the other seemed to
require them. The colloquy lasted half an hour--and although the veteran
sergeant seemed difficult of conviction, it ended by his saying, as he
left the room,

"Well, sir, as you say, it can only come to hard knocks at worst. Here
goes--I'll send off the scout party to make the fires and choose the men
for the out picquets, for no time is to be lost."

In about an hour's time from the scene I have mentioned, a number of
militia officers, of different grades, were seated round a bivouac fire,
upon the bank of the Niagara river. The conversation seemed of an angry
nature, for the voices of the speakers were loud and irrascible, and
their gestures evidenced a state of high excitement.

"I see," said one, who seemed the superior of the party--"I see well
where this will end. We shall have another Queenston affair, as we had
last fall with the Delawares."

"I only say," replied another, "that if you wish our men to stand fire
to-morrow morning, the less you remind them of the Delawares the better.
What is that noise? Is not that a drum beating?"

The party at these words sprung to their legs, and stood in an attitude
of listening for some seconds.

"Who goes there?" sung out a sentinel from his post; and then, after a
moment's delay, added--"Pass flag of truce to Major Brown's quarters."