numbered 450 men. Rumor in the Fenian camp had swelled the Canadian force to about 4000 men and three regiments of cavalry. Although the poor fellows believed this, and believed, also, that the Canadians had artillery, they were not disheartened. They were older and steadier soldiers than the men who had been engaged at Richards's farm, and they were eager for a fight and sanguine of results, even against superior numbers. They were in uniform, and armed with the breech loader. In passings, we may remark that this weapon is, perhaps, as good a service rifle as any in the world, and the cartridge supplied was of the best material.
About nine o'clock, a.m., the advance commenced. A strong skirmish line was thrown out, and the men acted in a steady, soldierly manner. The Canadian troops were posted strongly on elevated ground, with good shelter, and their skirmishers well advanced. There were fears among the Fenian ranks of the much talked of American guns, but, if they were there, they were silent. The skirmishers had not passed the line twenty rods when the Volunteers opened fire, which was steadily answered by the Fenians for a short time. Their main body had not reached the line when the Canadian troops were seen advancing. The Fenian skirmish line fell back in first-rate order. The Canadians then fired some heavy volleys, and made so rapid an advance that it was thought they meant to cross the line. This, however, they did not do. They followed the retiring Fenians to the line, sent some triumphant bullets whizzing after them, took three prisoners, wounded two men slightly, and fell back, to indulge in mutual admiration on account of their victory.
Your reporter is sorry to have to write it, but this is what the Fenian officers (not the men) call "the fight at Trout River."
As soon as the direful strife was over, "Generals" Starr, O'Leary, and several other generals (we use the word general as a mean—there might have been a colonel, and there probably was a field-marshal) ordered their carriages, which, like prudent soldiers, they had kept in readiness, in case of failure, and left the men to look after themselves, they starting for Malone. There they held a council of war—a favorite occupation of Fenian officers, it would seem. A great Bashaw of their organization, and, of course, a general, named Gleason, was here, holding a court at the Ferguson House. He vociferously expressed his "disgust" with affairs in general, and interlarded said expression with Munchausen assertions of what could be done, were things after his way of thinking, and especially of what he himself could do.
Along the road from Malone to Trout River the poor, disheartened fellows came straggling. Unlike the men at Richards's farm, they kept their rifles and equipments, and, notwithstanding the intense heat of the day, great numbers of them still carried their knapsacks and great
