During their short and hurried walk, Captain
Dunwoodie, however, threw several friendly glances at the old man, who
moved over the ground with astonishing energy for his years, for the
heart of the youth was warmed by an eulogium on a mother that he adored.
In a short time they joined the regiment to which the officers belonged,
when the captain, squeezing the stranger's hand, earnestly begged that
he would make inquiries after him on the following morning, and that he
might see him in his own tent. Here they separated.
Everything in the American camp announced an approaching struggle. At a
distance of a few miles, the sound of cannon and musketry was heard
above the roar of the cataract. The troops were soon in motion, and a
movement made to support the division of the army which was already
engaged. Night had set in before the reserve and irregulars reached the
foot of Lundy's Lane, a road that diverged from the river and crossed a
conical eminence, at no great distance from the Niagara highway. The
summit of this hill was crowned with the cannon of the British, and in
the flat beneath was the remnant of Scott's gallant brigade, which for a
long time had held an unequal contest with distinguished bravery. A new
line was interposed, and one column of the Americans directed to charge
up the hill, parallel to the road.
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