march could not be changed, or the post of honor given up to undisciplined provincials.

July 9th the army turned out at break of day, in full uniform. Though now on the same side of the river as Duquesne, the hills here crowded down upon the stream so closely as to make a defile, difficult to force if the enemy should be met there. The other bank was more

open. It was, therefore, decided to turn these hills by crossing the

river twice, and again striking the

trail at Fraser's house,"

only a short eight miles from the fort.

It turned out to be a very unfortunate

decision, involving a fatal loss of time, as the march was considerably lengthened thereby.

Braddock seems to have thought that if the savages were lying in ambush for him, his advance-guard would put them up like partridges from their covert. His advance was now led by Colonel Gage, who had with him some two hundred and fifty men, besides a few guides or scouts. Some accounts give him three hundred. As soon as it was light, Gage passed both fords without seeing an enemy. Behind him came a working party, of

the same strength as his own, which fell to work sloping off the banks, before the main body should come up with the guns. By the time this was done, the head of the rear division was seen marching up to the crossing.

my had not disputed the crossing, it was not likely he would make a stand between it and the fort.

As if to show his contempt for prudent counsels Braddock had decided to make all the noise he could that morning. It was going to be an out-and-out field-day

with him. Strange sounds now broke the stillness of those forest wilds. At the order to march all the fifes and drums struck up their liveliest tunes, standards were unfurled to the breeze, bayonets flashed brightly in the sun, as to the martial strains the troops moved briskly off in close order, reaching the second ford at about noon. Finding this in Gage's hands, Braddock halted to let the men eat their dinners here, and at one they began crossing.

As soon as the army was well closed up, Gage moved off on the trail to the fort, which here struck off from the river across a broad strip of bottom, grown up with grass to the knees, and, after reaching higher ground, again ran with the river. Gage was looking sharply out for the enemy, while, with pick and shovel, the working party cleared the way behind him for the passage of the main body, seven to eight hundred strong.

This rising ground, of fatal celebrity, merits a brief description. It was an open wood, grown up with bushes or rank grass, in which the path in which the path was soon lost. All was silent, save the drowsy hum of bees among the wild bloom, or the tapping of a stray woodpecker on some decaying, but still stately, monarch of the forest. These familiar sounds could hardly prefigure, even to a soldier's ears, the whizzing of bullets or the strokes of a tomahawk.

The French, at Duquesne, had been put in a pretty fright ever since they knew what force was approaching them. Their counsels were divided. Some were for sticking by the fort, some for leaving it, some of the bolder sort for making a sally. Among those who urged this course, not with any hope of victory indeed, but to strike one good blow for it, was a dashing young soldier called Beaujeu, who finally prevailed upon the command

ant to let him go. Beaujeu, therefore, instantly led out a mixed force of French regulars, Canadians, and savages, nine hundred in all, meaning to ambuscade the ford, and

if possible stop the English there. But before he could reach it Gage was met, drawn up across the road.

Each party saw the other at the same instant. Euro

pean against savage tactics were now put to decisive trial. Beaujeu waved his hat for his men to run to cover, while Gage, thinking he was going to be overwhelmed by a rush, first ordered his grenadiers to fix bayonets, and then, quickly undeceived by the bullets now coming thick and fast, to return the fire, which they did with a will.

Almost at this first volley, Beaujeu fell dead, and those nearest him were scattered in confusion, but others were constantly coming up to take their places, so that the enemy were soon giving Gage two shots for his one.

Gage's men stood this well for a time, cheering and firing away at what they could see, or whenever a puff of smoke revealed an enemy. Above the rattle of musketry there rose such unearthly and discordant yells as shook even the stoutest nerves. This standing up to be picked off like pigeons on a roost, was more than flesh and blood could bear. At last Gage himself was hit. The men began to fall back, then to run, sweeping up the working party as they went, and carrying it along with them down upon the main body, like the debris of some furious tor

rent.

Close at their heels, like wolves made furious by the taste of blood, came the yelling and whooping enemy.

The fugitives threw the advancing column into a confusion from which it was never allowed to rally. As Braddock rode up from the rear, all fire and wrath at this check, he found the officers vainly trying to form a front against the fire now pelting them from all sides at once. In vain he himself stormed at the men. If they had been armed with clubs and spears they could not have been more helpless against an enemy felt, but not seen. There they stood, huddled together like sheep, wholly incapable of striking one good blow in their own defence.