Much of the way was
through dense spruce swamps, with no dry resting-place at night. At
length the party reached the River St. Francis, fifteen miles above the
town, and, hooking their arms together for mutual support, forded it
with extreme difficulty. Towards evening, Rogers climbed a tree, and
descried the town three miles distant. Accidents, fatigue, and illness
had reduced his followers to a hundred and forty-two officers and men.
He left them to rest for a time, and, taking with him Lieutenant Turner
and Ensign Avery, went to reconnoitre the place; left his two
companions, entered it disguised in an Indian dress, and saw the
unconscious savages yelling and signing in the full enjoyment of a grand
dance. At two o'clock in the morning he rejoined his party, and at three
led them to the attack, formed them in a semicircle, and burst in upon
the town half an hour before sunrise. Many of the warriors were absent,
and the rest were asleep. Some were killed in their beds, and some shot
down in trying to escape. "About seven o'clock in the morning," he says,
"the affair was completely over, in which time we had killed at least
two hundred Indians and taken twenty of their women and children
prisoners, fifteen of whom I let go their own way, and five I brought
with me, namely, two Indian boys and three Indian girls. I likewise
retook five English captives."
English scalps in hundreds were dangling from poles over the doors of
the houses.
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