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.

Nevertheless, the Colonials and the Mohawks had rallied, order was restored, and while they were giving ground they were retreating in good formation, and with the rapid fire of their rifles were making the foe pay dearly for his advance.

Grosvenor had snatched up a rifle and ammunition from a fallen man, and was pulling trigger as fast as he could reload.  His face was covered with smoke, perspiration and the stains of burned gunpowder, the whole forming a kind of brown mask, through which his eyes, nevertheless, gleamed with a dauntless light.

“It won’t be Duquesne over again!  It won’t be!  It won’t be!” he repeated to all the world.

“But if you’re not more careful you’ll never know anything about it!” exclaimed Robert, as he grasped him suddenly by the coat and pulled him down behind a log, a half dozen musket balls whistling the next moment where his body had been.  Grosvenor, in the moment of turmoil and excitement, did not forget to be grateful.

“Thanks, my dear fellow,” he said to Robert.  “I’ll do as much for you some time.”

Robert was about to reply, but a joyous shout from the rear stopped him.  Over a hill behind them a strong body of provincials appeared coming to help.  Waraiyageh in his camp had received news of ambush and battle, and knowing that his men must be in desperate case had hurried forward relief.  Never was a force more welcome.  Along the retreating line ran a welcoming shout, and all facing about as if by a single order, they gave the pursuing French and Indians a tremendous volley.

Robert saw regulars, Canadians and Indians drop as if smitten by a thunderbolt, and the whole pursuing army, reeling back, stopped.  Then he heard the French trumpets again, and waiting behind the log, he saw that the hostile array was no longer advancing.  The trumpets of Dieskau were sounding the recall, for the time, at least.  Robert did not know until afterward that the Indian allies of the French had suffered so much that they were wavering, and not even the eloquence and example of St. Luc could persuade them, for the time being, to continue such a dangerous pursuit.

A few minutes of precious rest were allowed to the harried vanguard of Johnson, and now, holding their fire for a time when it would be needed more, the men continued to fall back toward the main camp, from which they had so recently come.  The crash of rifles and muskets sank, but both sides were merely preparing for a new battle.  Robert examined himself carefully, but found no trace of a wound.