In the year 1812 the United States of America declared war against Great Britain. They were eager to conquer Canada and seemed confident of success. The Canadians were filled with dismay at the news, for their country was then in a desperate position. In the whole of Canada there were less than forty-five hundred regular troops. Great Britain was at war with Napoleon and could not lend much aid; but the brave men who responded to the call to arms were determined to repel the invaders and to save their country.

One of the most terrible battles of the war was fought in October, at Queenston Heights on the Niagara River. It resulted in a victory for the Canadians, but the victory was dearly bought. Brave General Brock was killed, and the battle-field was strewn with the bodies of volunteers who had died or been wounded in defence of their homes.

Among those who had been wounded, and lay helpless on the hillside, was Captain James Secord of Queenston. Laura Secord, his wife, had watched the battle from a distance, and hearing of his danger rushed up the hill to his aid. While she knelt at his side, three American soldiers attempted to kill him, but the slender, pale-faced woman stood in front of her wounded husband and called for help. The captain of the cowardly soldiers ordered them away, and Laura Secord, believing her husband to be dead, lifted him in her arms and carried him to their home. It was soon found that he still lived, and his wife’s tender nursing saved his life. When the summer came again, he was still an invalid and unable to walk.

The Canadians had retired from Queenston and the town was occupied by an American force. The Secords had been compelled to remain in the neighborhood on account of the captain’s health, and were frequently forced to entertain the enemy in their home.

One June day a number of officers entered the house and commanded Mrs. Secord to give them food. She pretended to be a very humble and dull person, and began at once to prepare the meal. In the meantime the officers discussed their general’s plans, and did not pay much attention to the woman who had appeared so simple. Laura Secord, however, listened to all they said, and discovered that they intended to surprise the little handful of soldiers who were defending Beaver Dam, and capture Lieutenant Fitzgibbon, the officer in charge.

When James Secord heard this news, he was in despair. The defenders of Beaver Dam should be warned of the attack, but how could he, a crippled soldier, carry the message? He was trying to think of a way out of the difficulty when his wife startled him by saying, “I shall take the message, to-morrow at daybreak. You are unable to go, and there is no one else.”

This meant that she would have to pass the American pickets, and travel in the heat, through twenty miles of bush. The woods were infested with fierce Indians belonging to both armies, and attacks from them were always to be expected. Her husband was unwilling to let her go, but seeing no other way, he finally consented.

Laura Secord arose at daybreak on the morning of the 23d of June, and began to prepare for her journey. Dressed in a short flannel skirt and cotton jacket, without shoes or stockings, her milking-stool in one hand, her pail in the other, she drove one of her cows close to the American lines and sat down to milk it. Immediately the cow kicked over the milking-pail and ran towards the bush. This happened two or three times and the soldiers laughed heartily, and chaffed at the sullen milkmaid’s clumsiness. She mumbled something about the cow being “contrary” and ran past the sentry into the bush to catch it. Her scant clothing and her evident anger at the cow deceived the man, who let her pass without asking any questions. He did not know that the cow’s antics had been caused by the pinches Mrs. Secord had given it, and that the angry milkmaid was hurrying on her way to Beaver Dam.

A mile away she hid the pail and stool under the bushes, first milking the cow to prevent her returning too soon to the clearing. Hour after hour she tramped on, going over unbeaten paths to avoid the American scouts. The underbrush in the first of the forest was tangled and dense. Soon her feet were torn and bleeding, and every step she took gave her pain. The slopes of the hills were thick with brush and hard to climb, and swamps and streams had to be crossed in the most dangerous ways. When night came, it was hard to tell which of the many blazed trails she should take, and faint with hunger and pain she fell to the ground many times.

About midnight she came to a clearing and began to hope her journey was nearly ended, when the air was filled with the war-whoop of the Red Indians. She was soon surrounded by a dozen savages who were covered with warpaint and decked with feathers. Thinking her to be a spy, one of them stepped close to her and demanded, “Woman! what does woman want?” She was terrified, but knew that everything depended upon her self-possession. She asked for the “Big Chief” and explained by signs that the “Long knives” (the Americans) were coming, and that she must reach the British. She soon discovered that the Indians were scouts of the British and that she need have no fear. With a hearty “Ugh” of understanding, one of them beckoned her to follow, and led the way through the meadows to the British lines.

She gave her message to Lieutenant Fitzgibbon, who praised her bravery and made her comfortable for the rest of the night. Her warning prepared the little garrison for the attack which took place next day, and so well were the plans made that the fifty men under Fitzgibbon compelled the American force of five hundred soldiers to surrender, almost without a struggle.

Laura Secord lived to be ninety-three years old, and when she died in 1868, she was buried beside her husband on the ground which had been the old battle-field of Lundy’s Lane. A handsome monument was erected over her grave by Canadians, who wished to do honor to the great courage of the woman who saved her countrymen from danger and defeat.—Helen Palk.