watching, he saw the enemy suddenly hurry forward. In an instant he was
dashing down to join his brothers, Sainte-Helene, Longueil, and Perrot;
and at the head of a body of men they pushed on to get over the ford and
hold it, while Frontenac, leading three battalions of troops, got away
more slowly. There were but a few hundred men with Iberville, arrayed
against Gering's many hundreds; but the French were bush-fighters and the
New Englanders were only stout sailors and ploughmen. Yet Gering had no
reason to be ashamed of his men that day; they charged bravely, but their
enemies were hid to deadly advantage behind trees and thickets, the best
sharpshooters of the province.

Perrot had had his orders from Iberville: Iberville himself was, if
possible, to engage Gering in a hand-to-hand fight; Perrot, on the other
hand, was to cut Gering off from his men and bring him in a prisoner.
More than once both had Gering within range of their muskets, but they
held their hands, nor indeed did Gering himself, who once also had a
chance of bringing Iberville down, act on his opportunity. Gering's men
were badly exposed, and he sent them hard at the thickets, clearing the
outposts at some heavy loss. His men were now scattered, and he shifted
his position so as to bring him nearer the spot where Sainte-Helene and
Longueil were pushing forward fresh outposts. He saw the activity of the
two brothers, but did not recognise them, and sent a handful of men to
dislodge them. Both Sainte-Helene and Longueil exposed themselves for a
moment, as they made for an advantageous thicket. Gering saw his
opportunity, took a musket from a soldier, and fired. Sainte-Helene fell
mortally wounded. Longueil sprang forward with a cry of rage, but a
spent ball struck him.

Iberville, at a distance, saw the affair. With a smothered oath he
snatched a musket from Maurice Joval, took steady aim and fired. The