Wandering Indians, hearing the firing,
came to Wyatt's relief, but, despite their aid, he was compelled
to give ground. His were the most desperate and hardened men,
red and white, in all the allied forces, but they were faced by
sharpshooters better than themselves. Many of them were already
killed, others were wounded, and, although Wyatt and Coleman
raged and strove to hold them, they began to give back, and so
hard pressed were they that the Iroquois could not perform the
sacred duty of carrying off their dead. No one sought to carry
away the Tories, who lay with the rain, that had now begun to
fall, beating upon them.
So much had the riflemen advanced that they came to the point
where bodies of their enemies lay. Again that fierce joy surged
up in Henry's heart. His friends and he were winning. But he
wished to do more than win. This band, if left alone, would
merely flee from the Seneca Castle before the advance of the
army, and would still exist to ravage and slay elsewhere.
"Keep on, Tom! Keep on!" he cried to Ross and the others.
"Never let them rest!"
"We won't! We ain't dreamin' o' doin' sech a thing," replied the
redoubtable one as he loaded and fired.
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