Two hundred and fifty men were now placed on each flank of the camp, the main body stood behind the waggons or lay flat behind the logs and boats, the Massachusetts men on the right, the Connecticut men on the left.
"Now, my lads," Johnson shouted, in his cheery voice, "you have got to fight.

Remember, if they get inside not one of you will ever go back to your families to tell the tale, while if you fight bravely you will beat them back sure enough." In a few minutes, ranks of white-coated soldiers could be seen moving down the roads, with their bayonets showing between the boughs.

At the same time, Indian war whoops rose loud in the forest, and then dark forms could be seen, bounding down the slope through the trees towards the camp in a throng.
There was a movement of uneasiness among the young rustics, few of whom ever heard a shot fired in anger before that morning; but the officers, standing pistol in hand, threatened to shoot any man who moved from his position.
Could Dieskau have launched his whole force at once upon the camp at that moment, he would probably have carried it, but this he was powerless to do.

His regular troops were well in hand; but the mob of Canadians and Indians were scattered through the forest, shouting, yelling, and firing from behind trees.
He thought, however, that if he led the regulars to the attack, the others would come forward, and he therefore gave the word for the advance.

The French soldiers advanced steadily, until the trees grew thinner.