Summary

Under Wolfe's Flag; or, The Fight for the Canadas

Then the golden orb of day unbarred his eastern shutters, tinged the far horizon with saffron and yellow, and flooded the landscape of forest, and river, and lake, with gold, but still the youth slept on. Would he never awake?
At length, when the sun was high above the tree-tops, Jamie stretched himself, then opened his eyes. As he did so his first gaze fell upon a man, somewhat past middle-age, but still strong and sturdy. He was in the garb of a hunter, for he wore a hair-fringed hunting-shirt, moccasins, and Indian leggings, while on his head was a beaver cap.
Source: Gutenberg

Under Wolfe's Flag; or, The Fight for the Canadas

They could ill-spare him, yet the memory of him would always be with them, to spur them on to brave and manly deeds, for he had died like an English gentleman, and a brave son of Empire, fighting to the last for the flag that he loved, as many a man still would do, before that great land out there, beyond the ship's bow--the Canadas--would pass from the hands of the French, to become, as the ages unfolded, the greatest jewel in the British Crown.
Source: Gutenberg

Under Wolfe's Flag; or, The Fight for the Canadas

What a night that was for the two young paleface warriors! The war fever of the Iroquois had in a measure entered into their blood, for they saw in the Algonquins the allies of France and the enemies of England, so they prepared to defend themselves in the morning.
Day dawned at last, and White Eagle and his braves pressed forward to battle; not shoulder to shoulder, nor in unresisting phalanx, as the soldiers of the palefaces fought, but in true Indian fashion the dark-skinned warriors leapt from tree to tree, and cover to cover.
Source: Gutenberg

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