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.