barrelled gun, and plenty of ball cartridge; and being so provided, our proposed order of battle was soon determined upon. It was very simple, namely, to reserve one barrel, and to stand by each other to the last.
I may here remark, that unlike the natives of the Australian Continent generally, many of the blacks of the Western coast are queer fellows to deal with, and that a steady hand and ready eye, are necessary on every occasion when mischief is contemplated.
After a time we became entangled in some scrub and swampy ground, and just as we had cleared them, and ascended a rise in the forest, we came suddenly upon a strong body of blacks, who, probably, had heard our cooeying. The leading man was directly in front of me. He immediately poised his spear in his throwing-stick, threw one leg forward, and made ready for the hurl at about twenty paces distance. At the same instant, I came to the present, with both barrels cocked, taking a sure and certain aim at the debateable ground between his ferocious-looking eyes;—it was a good aim, for he seemed to me to be looking down both muzzles—my friend Clelland remaining calmly at the recover.
I had passed twice down the rapids of the Long Sault, (once by moonlight,) the most dangerous part of the magnificent Saint Lawrence—I had heard the night war shrieks of hostile Indians, and been in more skirmishes and fights than I think proper to enumerate, but I confess, neither of these had queered me so much, as did the savage then in front of me; however, I am proud to recollect, that I was able, and without shrinking, to watch his eye as carefully in this game for life or death, as a Somersetshire wrestler would for the first throw. At length, in about a minute I suppose, up rose the shout, "Go it ye cripples," "Go it ye cripples," from a native who was rising the ridge, and who, fortunately, had recognised me as a friend of Preston's. In another second, up went the double-barrel, down went the spear, and "Go it ye cripples" was the order of the day.
