The man was glad enough to get a chance to escape being hanged, and
his brother being held as hostage, he set out. He acted his part
well. Panting and breathless, with his coat torn in many places
by bullets, and a face twisted with fear, he dashed into the enemy
camp. There he told his eager listeners that he had barely escaped
with his life from the Americans (which was true enough) and that
they were marching towards them in vast numbers, and showed his
bullet-riddled coat as proof of his story.
"How many are they?" he was asked.
In reply the man spread his hands abroad, pointing to the leaves
of the trees and shaking his head as if in awe.
The Indians were greatly disturbed, and began to hold a council. While
they were still consulting, an Indian, friendly to the Americans,
who was in the plot, arrived. He told the same story as the spy,
pointing like him to the numberless trees of the forest when asked
how many of the enemy were coming.
Then another and still another Indian arrived. They all told the
same tale. A mysterious bird had come to warn them, they said, that
the whole valley was filled with warriors.
At length the Indians could bear no more. Already many of their best
warriors had been slain. They would no longer stay to be utterly
wiped out, and they prepared to flee.
In vain the British commander implored them to stay.
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