The soldiers began to exult, but Robert bade them reload as fast as possible, and keep well under cover.  The warriors from new points would fire at every exposed head, and they could not afford to relax their caution for an instant.

But it was a difficult task for the youthful veterans of the forest to keep the older but inexperienced men from the city under cover.  They had an almost overpowering desire to see the Indians who were shooting at them, and against whom they were sending their bullets.  In spite of every command and entreaty a man would raise his head now and then, and one, as he did so, received a bullet between the eyes, falling back quietly, dead before he touched the ground.

“A brave lad has been lost,” whispered Tayoga to Robert, “but he has been an involuntary example to the rest.”

The Onondaga spoke in his precise school English, but he knew what he was saying, as the soldiers now became much more cautious, and controlled their impulse to raise up for a look, after every shot.  Another man was wounded, but the hurt was not serious and he went on with his firing.  Robert, seeing that the line on the flank could be held without great difficulty, left Tayoga in command, and crept back to the main force, where the bullets were coming much faster.

Two of the soldiers in the center had been slain, and three had been wounded, but Captain Colden had not given ground.  He was sitting behind a rocky outcrop and at the suggestion of Willet was giving orders to his men.  Oppressed at first by the ambush and weight of responsibility he was exulting now in their ability to check the savage onset.  Robert was quite willing to play a little to his pride and he said in the formal military manner: 

“I wish to report, sir, that all is going well on the southern flank.  One of our men has been killed, but we have made it impossible for the enemy to advance there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lennox,” said the young captain with dignity.  “We have also had some success here, due chiefly to the good advice of Mr. Willet, and the prowess and sharpshooting of the extraordinary man whom you call Black Rifle.  See him now!”

He indicated a dark figure a little distance ahead, behind a clump of bushes, and, as Robert looked, a jet of fire leaped from the muzzle of the man’s rifle, followed almost immediately by a cry in the forest.

“I think he has slain more of our enemies than the rest of us combined,” said Captain Colden.

Robert shuddered a little, but those who lived on the border became used to strange things.  The constant struggle for existence hardened the nerves, and terrible scenes did not dwell long in the mind.  He bent forward for a better look, and a bullet cut the hair upon his forehead.  He started back, feeling as if he had been seared by lightning and Willet looked at him anxiously.

“The lead burned as it passed,” the lad said, “but the skin is not broken.  I was guilty of the same rashness, for which I have been lecturing the men on the flank.”