his officers could scarce keep them from storming. Such was the
deadliness of their aim that scarce a shot came back, and time and again
I saw men fling themselves in front of the breastworks with a war-whoop,
wave their rifles in the air, and cry out that they would have the Ha'r
Buyer's sculp before night should fall. It could not last. Not tuned to
the nicer courtesies of warfare, the memory of Hamilton's war parties, of
blackened homes, of families dead and missing, raged unappeased. These
were not content to leave vengeance in the Lord's hands, and when a white
flag peeped timorously above the gate a great yell of derision went up
from river-bank to river-bank. Out of the postern stepped the officer
with the faded scarlet coat, and in due time went back again, haughtily,
his head high, casting contempt right and left of him. Again the postern
opened, and this time there was a cheer at sight of a man in hunting
shirt and leggings and coonskin cap. After him came a certain Major Hay,
Indian-enticer of detested memory, the lieutenant of him who
followed--the Hair Buyer himself. A murmur of hatred arose from the men
stationed there; and many would have shot him where he stood but for
Clark.

"The devil has the grit," said Cowan, though his eyes blazed.

It was the involuntary tribute. Lieutenant-Governor Hamilton stared
indifferently at the glowering backwoodsmen as he walked the few steps to
the church. Not so Major Hay. His eyes fell. There was Colonel Clark
waiting at the door through which the good Creoles had been wont to go to
worship, bowing somewhat ironically to the British General. It was a
strange meeting they had in St. Xavier's, by the light of the candles on
the altar. Hot words passed in that house of peace, the General
demanding protection for all his men, and our Colonel replying that he
would do with the Indian partisans as he chose.