Their plumes and eagle feathers waved proudly in the morning breeze.

Now and then the long, peculiarly broken yell of the Shawnees rang out clear and strong.

The soldiers were drawn off to one side and well out of range of the settlers' guns.

Their red coats and flashing bayonets were new to most of the little band of men in the block-house.
"Ho, the Fort!" It was a strong, authoritative voice and came from a man mounted on a black horse.
"Well, Girty, what is it ?" shouted Silas Zane.
"We demand unconditional surrender," was the answer.
"You will never get it," replied Silas.
"Take more time to think it over.

You see we have a force here large enough to take the Fort in an hour." "That remains to be seen," shouted some one through porthole.
An hour passed.