could batter down the dike, and let the tide right in on them."

"Aye! aye!" assented the old sergeant, "they're a brave foe, and
I would we could have a brush with them. They're landing now without
firing a shot!"

At this moment the irregular firing from the breastwork grew more rapid
and sustained, and our three adventurers hurried on to the knoll, eager
for a better view. They found the post already occupied by half a dozen
interested villagers, who paid no attention to the new arrivals.

By this time the English boats had reached the water's edge. On this
occasion Major Lawrence had nearly eight hundred men at his command,
and was resolved to carry his enterprise to a successful issue.
The troops did not wait to form, under the now galling fire from the
breastwork, but swarmed up the red slope in loose skirmishing order,
pouring in a hot dropping fire as they ran. As they reached the dike
a ringing cheer broke out, and they dashed at the awkward and slippery
steep.

A few reached the top, and for a moment the English colors crowned the
embankment. But at the same time the painted defenders rose with a yell,
and beat back their assailants with gunstock and hatchet. The red flag
was seized by a tall savage, and Pierre gave a little cry of excitement
as he thought the enemies' colors were captured. But his enthusiasm was
premature. The stripling who carried the colors, finding no chance
to use his sword, grasped the Indian about the waist and dragged him
off the dike, when he was promptly made captive.

Now the English withdrew a few paces, held back with difficulty by