St. Luc, when he saw the enemy approaching, quickly launched his own fleet, and filled it with men, although he kept it well in the lee of the land, and behind it posted a formidable row of marksmen, French, Canadians and Indians.  Rogers, who had the general command, paddled his boat a little in front of the others and examined the defense cautiously through his glasses.  Tayoga could see well enough with the naked eye.

“St. Luc is leaning on the stump of a wind-blown tree near the water,” he said, “and he holds in his hand his small sword with which he will direct the battle.  But there is a canoe almost at his feet, and if need be he will go into it.  De Courcelles is in a large boat on the right, and Tandakora is in another on the left.  On the land, standing behind St. Luc, is the Canadian, Dubois.”

“A very good arrangement to meet us,” said Willet.  “St. Luc will stay on the island, but if he finds we’re pressing him too hard, he’ll have himself paddled squarely into the center of his fleet, and do or die.  Now, it’s a lucky thing for us that our rangers are such fine marksmen, and that they have the good, long-barreled rifles.”

The boats containing the Mohawks were held back under the instructions of Rogers, despite the eagerness of Daganoweda, who, however, was compelled to yield to the knowledge that red men were never equal to the finest white sharpshooters, and it was important to use the advantage given to them by the long rifles.  Willet’s boat swung in by the side of that of Rogers, and several more boats and canoes, containing rangers, drew level with them.  Rogers measured the distance anxiously.

“Do you think you can reach them with your rifle, Dave?” he asked.

“A few yards more and a bullet will count,” replied the hunter.

“We’ll go ahead, then, and tell me as soon as you think we’re near enough.  All our best riflemen are in front, and we should singe them a bit.”

The boats glided slowly on, and, at the island, the enemy was attentive and waiting, with the advantage wholly on his side, had it not been for the rifles of great range, surpassing anything the French and Indians carried.  St. Luc did not move from his position, and he was a heroic figure magnified in the dazzling sunlight.

Willet held up his hand.

“This will do,” he said.

At a sign from Rogers the entire fleet stopped, and, at another sign from Willet, twenty rangers, picked marksmen, raised their rifles and fired.  Several of the French and Indians fell, and their comrades gave forth a great shout of rage.  Those in the canoes and boats fired, but all their bullets fell short, merely pattering in vain on the water.  Daganoweda and his warriors, when they saw the result, uttered an exultant war whoop that came back in echoes from the mountains.  Rogers himself rejoiced openly.

“That’s the way to do it, Dave!” he cried.  “Reload and give ’em another volley.  Unless they come out and attack us we can decimate ’em.”