their inmates swarmed out like bees, while the French in the fort shot off muskets and cannon to honor the occasion.  The unfortunate boy, the object of this obstreperous rejoicing, presently saw a multitude of savages, naked, hideously bedaubed with red, blue, black, and brown, and armed with sticks or clubs, ranging themselves in two long parallel lines, between which he was told that he must run, the faster the better, as they would beat him all the way.  He ran with his best speed, under a shower of blows, and had nearly reached the end of the course, when he was knocked down.  He tried to rise, but was blinded by a handful of sand thrown into his face; and then they beat him till he swooned.  On coming to his senses he found himself in the fort, with the surgeon opening a vein in his arm and a crowd of French and Indians looking on.  In a few days he was able to walk with the help of a stick; and, coming out from his quarters one morning, he saw a memorable scene.[216]

[Footnote 215:  See Appendix D.]

[Footnote 216:  Account of Remarkable Occurrences in the Life of Colonel James Smith, written by himself.  Perhaps the best of all the numerous narratives of captives among the Indians.]

Three days before, an Indian had brought the report that the English were approaching; and the Chevalier de la Perade was sent out to reconnoitre.[217] He returned on the next day, the seventh, with news that they were not far distant.  On the eighth the brothers Normanville went out, and found that they were within six leagues of the fort.  The French were in great excitement and alarm; but Contrecoeur at length took a resolution, which seems to have been inspired by Beaujeu.[218] It was determined to meet the enemy on the march, and ambuscade them if possible at the crossing of the Monongahela, or some other favorable spot.  Beaujeu proposed the plan to the Indians, and offered them the war-hatchet; but they would not take it.  “Do you want to die, my father, and sacrifice us besides?” That night they held a council, and in the morning again refused to go.  Beaujeu did not despair.  “I am determined,” he exclaimed, “to meet the English.  What! will you let your father go alone?"[219] The greater part caught fire at his words, promised to follow him and put on their war-paint.  Beaujeu received the communion, then dressed himself like a savage, and joined the clamorous throng.  Open barrels of gunpowder and bullets were set before the gate of the fort, and James Smith, painfully climbing the rampart with the help of his stick, looked down on the warrior rabble as, huddling together, wild with excitement, they scooped up the contents to fill their powder-horns and pouches.  Then, band after band, they filed off along the forest track that led to the ford of the Monongahela.  They numbered six hundred and thirty-seven; and with them went thirty-six French officers and cadets, seventy-two regular soldiers, and a hundred and forty-six Canadians, or about nine hundred in all.[220] At eight o’clock the tumult was over.  The broad clearing lay lonely and still, and Contrecoeur, with what was left of his garrison, waited in suspense for the issue.