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Dudley's first movement was to place Ellen in a state of
safety, and than to find secure shelter for himself and his
companions, whence they could repel the advance of the
enemy. All this was but the work of an instant. The
crippled vessel had continued to advance with no slight
velocity, for she had still two effective oars; but her consort
had taken the lead, and for a while had threatened to
make at least a simultaneous landing with the gondola.
But when her crew had perceived this to be impracticable,
they hastened to retire beyond rifle shot, divining with
ready sagacity the designs of the other party. They were,
however, too late to avoid the effect of one leaden messenger
from the weapon of the active sergeant; a sharp yell
and a sudden commotion in the boat proclaiming its success.
Three more shots were instantly fired, but with no observable
result. It was far, however, from being the design of
the enemy to abandon the pursuit. They felt rather like
the sportsman, who, having cornered his game, deliberates
only upon the easiest means of despatching it. At a safe
distance the vessels came together for conference, which
resulted in one of them making a detour about the island,
and taking up a position opposite to the other extremity.
This movement made it necessary for Dudley to divide his
small force; yet so minute was the territory to be
defended, that the two divisions of the garrison were not
beyond each other's call. It was now fully expected that

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the besiegers would attempt a simultaneous landing on the
opposite sides—a course which ordinary courage would
certainly have prompted; but they evidently designed
some less dangerous expedient. To and fro, like sharks
waiting for their prey, through the long, tedious hours of
the day, the canoes glided leisurely about, maintaining a
close watch upon every part of the coast. It was then,
doubtless, for the might that the attack was designed, and
it was with sad forebodings that the island prisoners
watched the sun beginning to decline from the meridian.
But they had not been idle. The moment they became
convinced that there was no immediate danger, a consultation
was again held to devise means of relief; for, as the
enemy were discernible from any part of the coast, and the
defenders could easily be summoned to the point of attack,
they were no longer confined to any one position. But
deliberation seemed of little avail. The calm and unclouded
sky foretold a still and starlight night, and one that would
render a secret embarkation and flight nearly impossible;
and although the same causes would make the landing of
the enemy somewhat hazardous, there could be no longer
any doubt that they had determined upon taking the risk.
There seemed, indeed, nothing to be done, excepting to
await the invasion and sell their lives as dearly as possible.
Although compelled to contemplate this fearful issue of all
his efforts, Dudley still strove to encourage Ellen with
hopes that he himself could no longer entertain. But new
events claimed attention. The younger Indian had long
been missing from the council, and, on search being made,
was found seated beside a pile of bark, which had been
freshly stripped from the birchen trees around him, while
a quantity of sea-weed, such as is used by the Indians for
thread or cord, was also collected at his side. It was with
no small alarm that Dudley and Rogers viewed these

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preparations, giving indications that their allies were about to
desert them. The southern shore was but about two-thirds
of a mile distant, and a very small canoe might possibly
be constructed before night, capable of transporting one or
two persons across, before they could be overtaken from
the more remote starting points of the enemy. Dudley
hastened to interrogate the Indian as to his designs.

“The Lynx is not a rat,” was the quiet reply, “to be
beaten to death in a trap.”

“The Lynx is a coward to desert his friends,” rejoined
Dudley, angrily. “What does Wongah say?”

“Wongah will stay,” was the quick reply.

The lieutenant grasped the hand of the Indian with emotion,
and by that gesture, and by a grateful look alone,
expressed his thanks. Scorning to expostulate with the
other, he was about to turn contemptuously away, when the
low, soft voice of the youth was heard. Dudley turned to
listen, but the words were addressed to Wongah, and being
in the Oneida tongue, were too rapidly uttered to admit of
his comprehending the meaning. He saw, however, that a
smile of merriment was on the face of the young Indian,
and that his whole countenance was lit up with a look of
ingenuousness and fidelity that could not be mistaken.
Wongah slowly repeated the substance of the words to Dudley
in broken English, and the latter, with extended hands,
rushed to his young ally, and having begged pardon for his
late unworthy suspicions, sat down to assist him at his
task. Wongah also lent his aid, and the work went rapidly
forward. The Lynx, like many of his race, had a spice of
humor in his composition that no danger could wholly
suppress.

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