The savage mass, wholly triumphant a minute ago,
gave back, and the panic among the Mohawks and Colonials was stopped.
When St. Pierre fell Robert saw a gallant figure appear in his place, a
figure taller and younger, none other than St. Luc himself, the
Chevalier, arriving in time to help his own, just as Daganoweda, Willet
and the others had come in time to aid theirs. The Chevalier was unhurt,
and while one dauntless leader had fallen, another as brave and perhaps
more skillful had taken his place. Robert saw him raise a whistle to his
lips, and at its clear, piercing call, heard clearly above the crash of
the battle, the Indians, turning, attacked anew and with yet greater
impetuosity.
The smoke from so much firing was growing very thick, but through it the
regulars of the regiments, Languedoc and La Reine, in their white
uniforms, could be seen advancing, with the dark mass of the Canadians
on one flank and the naked and painted Indians on the other, confident
now that their check had been but momentary, and that the victory would
yet be utter and complete.
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