As yet not a man had revealed himself to Thoreau and his band.  But the dogs had scented them, and they stood watchfully in front of the long log building, barking and whining.

From where he crouched Philip could see five windows.  Through these would come the enemy’s fire.  He waited.  It was Jean who was to begin, and draw the first shots.  Suddenly the half-breed and his men broke from cover.  They were scattered, darting low among the boulders and bush, partly protected and yet visible from the windows.

Philip drew himself head and shoulders over his log as he watched.  He forgot himself in this moment when he was looking upon men running into the face of death.  In another moment came the crash of rifles muffled behind log walls.  He could hear the whine of bullets, the zip, zip, zip of them back in the spruce and cedar.

Another hundred yards beyond Jean, he saw John Adare break from his cover like a great lion, his men spreading out like a pack of wolves.  Swiftly Philip turned and looked to the left.  Kaskisoon and his braves were advancing upon the Nest with the elusiveness of foxes.  At first he could not see them.  Then, as Adare’s voice boomed over the open, they rose with the suddenness of a flight of partridges, and ran swift-footed straight in the face of the windows.  Thus far the game of the attackers had worked without flaw.  Thoreau and his men would be forced to divide their fire,

It had taken perhaps three quarters of a minute for the first forward rush of the three parties, and during this time the fire from the windows had concentrated upon Jean and his men.  Philip looked toward them again.  They were in the open.  He caught his breath, stared—­and counted eight!  Two were missing.

He turned to his own men, crouching and waiting.  Eight were ready with the log.  Two others were to follow close behind, prepared to take the place of the first who fell.  He looked again out into the open field.  There came a long clear cry from the half-breed, a shout from Adare, a screaming, animal-like response from Kaskisoon, and at those three signals the forest people fell behind rocks, bits of shrub, and upon their faces.  In that same breath the crash of rifles in the open drowned the sound of those beyond the wall of the Nest.  From thirty rifles a hail of bullets swept through the windows.  This was Philip’s cue.  He rose with a sharp cry, and behind him came the eight with the battering-ram.  It was two hundred yards from their cover to the building.  They passed the last shelter, and struck the open on a trot.  Now rose from the firing men behind rock and bush a wild and savage cheer.  Philip heard John Adare roaring his encouragement.  With each shot of the Crees came a piercing yell.