The Border Watch: A Story of the Great Chief's Last Stand

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE BATTLE OF PIQUA

  The window, doubtless intended merely for letting in air, was verysmall, but Henry had a fine view of a wide open space, evidently thecentral court of the village. It was grassy and shady, with large oakand beech trees. About fifteen yards from the corncrib burned a fire,meant for light rather than heat, as the night was warm. Around it weregathered about fifty men, of whom six or seven were white, although theywere tanned by exposure almost to the darkness of Indians.

  Henry knew a number of them well. Upon a slightly raised seat satTimmendiquas, the famous White Lightning of the Wyandots. He wore onlythe waist cloth, and the great muscles of his chest and arms wererevealed by the firelight. His head was thrown back as if in defiance,and above it rose a single red feather twined in the scalp lock. Justbeyond Timmendiquas sat Moluntha, the Shawnee; Captain Pipe and CaptainWhite Eyes, the Delawares; Yellow Panther, the Miami, and Red Eagle, theShawnee. Beyond them were Simon Girty, Braxton Wyatt, Moses Blackstaffeand the other renegades. There was also a Mohawk chief at the head of asmall detachment sent by Thayendanegea. All the chiefs were in war painttattooed to the last note of Indian art.

  Henry knew from the number of chiefs present and the gravity of theirfaces that this was a council of great importance. He heard at firstonly the rumble of their voices, but when he had become used to theplace, and had listened attentively he was able to discern the words.Timmendiquas, true to his brave and fierce nature, was urging the alliedchiefs to stay and fight Clark for Chillicothe. In the East before thebattle on the Chemung, he had been in a sense a visitor, and he haddeferred to the great Iroquois, Thayendanegea, but here he was first,the natural leader, and he spoke with impassioned fervor. As Henrylooked he rose, and swinging a great tomahawk to give emphasis to hiswords, he said:

  "The one who retreats does not find favor with Manitou. It is he whostays and fights. It is true that we were defeated in the battle acrossfrom Tuentahahewaghta (the site of Cincinnati), but with great warriorsa defeat is merely the beginning of the way that leads to victory in theend. This is the greatest town of our race in all the valley ofOhezuhyeandawa (the Ohio), and shall we give it up, merely because Clarkcomes against it with a thousand men? Bowman came last year, but youbeat him off and killed many of his men. The soldiers of the king havefailed us as we feared. The promises of de Peyster and Caldwell have notbeen kept, but we can win without them!"

  He paused and swung the great war tomahawk. The firelight tinted red theglittering blade, and it made a circle of light as he whirled it abouthis head. A murmur ran around the circle, and swelled into a chorus ofapproval. These were the words that appealed to the hearts of thewarlike tribes, but Simon Girty, crafty, politic and far-seeing, arose.

  "Your words are those of a brave man and a great leader, Timmendiquas,"he said, speaking in Shawnee, "but there are many things that the chiefsmust consider. When the white men are slain, others come from the Eastto take their places; when our warriors fall their lodges stay empty andwe are always fewer than before. You were across the mountains,Timmendiquas, with the chief of the Iroquois, Thayendanegea, and so wasmy friend who sits here by my side. The Iroquois fought there on theChemung River, and brave though they were, they could not stand againstthe Yengees and their cannon. They were scattered and their country wasdestroyed. It would have been better had they fallen back, fightingwherever they could lay a good ambush.

  "Now Kentucky comes against us in great force. It is not such an army asthat which Bowman led. They are all trained, even as our own, to theforest and its ways. This army, as it marches, looks before and behind,and to right and to left. It will not stick its head in a trap, and whenits cannon thunder against your Chillicothe, smashing down your housesand your lodges, what will you do? Clark, who leads the men fromKentucky, has beaten our allies, the British, at Vincennes andKaskaskia. Hamilton, the governor at Detroit before de Peyster, wascaptured by him, and the Yengees held him a prisoner in Virginia. ThisClark is cunning like the fox, and has teeth like the wolf. He is thewinner of victories, and the men from Kentucky are ready to fight aroundhim to the last."

  Another murmur came from the circle and it also indicated approval ofGirty's words. Always greatly influenced by oratory, the opinion of thechiefs now swung to the latest speaker. Timmendiquas flashed a look ofscorn at Girty and at some of the chiefs near him.

  "I know that Girty thinks much and is wise," he said. "He is faithful tous, too, because he dare not go back to his own white people, who wouldtear him to pieces."

  Timmendiquas paused a moment for his taunt to take effect, and lookeddirectly at the renegade. Girty winced, but he had great self-control,and he replied calmly:

  "What you say is true, Timmendiquas, and no one knows it better than I.The whites would surely tear me in pieces if they could catch me,because my deeds in behalf of the Indians, whom I have chosen to be mybrethren, are known to all men."

  Girty had replied well, and the older and more cautious chiefs gave himanother murmur of approval. Timmendiquas flashed him a second glance ofcontempt and hate, but the renegade endured it firmly.

  "What, then, do you say for us to do, Girty?" asked the Wyandot chief.

  "As the enemy comes near Chillicothe fall back to Piqua. It is onlytwelve miles away, yet not all the warriors of Piqua are here ready tohelp us. But they will wait for us if we come to them, and then we shallbe in stronger force to fight Clark. And Piqua is better suited todefense than Chillicothe. The enemy cannot come upon the town withoutreceiving from us a hidden fire."

  Girty spoke on, and to the listening youth he seemed to speak plausibly.Certainly many of the chiefs thought so, as more than once they noddedand murmured their approval. Timmendiquas replied, and several of theyounger chiefs supported him, but Henry believed that the burden ofopinion was shifting the other way. The tribes were probably shaken bythe defeat at the mouth of the Licking, and the name of Clark wasdreaded most of all.

  Indians love to talk, and the debate went on for a long time, but atlast it was decided, much against the will of Timmendiquas, that if theycould not catch Clark in an ambush they would abandon Chillicothe andretreat toward Piqua. The decisive argument was the fact that they couldgather at Piqua a much larger force than at Chillicothe. The advance ofClark had been more rapid than was expected. They would not only haveall the Piqua men with them, but many more warriors from distantvillages who had not yet arrived.

  The fire was now permitted to die down, the crowd broke up and thechiefs walked away to their lodgings. Henry left the little place fromwhich he had been peeping, drew himself from the corn and prepared toopen the door. Before he had pulled it back more than an inch he stoppedand remained perfectly still. Two warriors were standing outside withinthree feet of him. They were Miamis, and they were talking in low toneswhich he could not understand. He waited patiently for them to pass on,but presently one of them glanced at the door. He may have been theowner of the crib, and he noticed that the door was shut or nearly shut,when it had been left open. He stepped forward and gave it a push,sending it against the youth who stood on the other side.

  The Miami uttered an exclamation, but Henry acted promptly. He did notwish to fire a shot and bring hundreds of warriors down upon himself andhis friends, but he sprang out of the door with such violence that hestruck the first Miami with his shoulder and knocked him senseless. Thesecond warrior, startled by this terrifying apparition, was about toutter a cry of alarm, but Henry seized him by the throat with bothhands, compressed it and threw him from him as far as he could. Then hesprang among the vines, where he was joined by his comrades, and,bending low, they rushed for the corn field and its protection.

  The second Miami was the first to recover. He sprang to his feet andopened his mouth to let forth the war cry. It did not come. Instead anacute pain shot along his throat. He did not know how powerful were thehands that had constricted him there. Nevertheless he persisted and atthe fourth trial the war cry came, sending its signal o
f alarm allthrough the village. Warriors poured out of the dark, and led by theMiamis they dashed through the garden in eager pursuit.

  The five were already in the field, running down among the corn rows.Over them waved the highest blades of the corn, still rustling dryly inthe wind.

  "We are as good runners ez they are," said Shif'less Sol. "An' theycan't see us here in the corn, but ain't that a pack o' them on ourheels. Listen to that yelp."

  The war cry came from hundreds of throats, and behind them they heardthe patter of many feet on the soft earth of the field, but they werenot in despair. Not far beyond lay the woods, and they had full faiththat they would reach their cover in time. The rows of corn guided themin a perfectly straight line, and the number of their pursuers were ofno avail. They reached the woods in a few minutes, and, although thewarriors then caught dim glimpses of them, and fired a few shots, nobullets struck near, and they were soon hidden among the trees andthickets. But they were too wise to stop merely because they were out ofsight. They continued at good speed for a long time on the returnjourney to Clark.

  Henry's comrades asked him no questions, knowing that when they stoppedhe would tell them everything, unasked. But they saw that he was in anexcellent humor, and so they inferred that he brought valuableinformation from Chillicothe.

  "I call it luck," said Shif'less Sol, "that when you have to run foryour life you can at the same time run the way you want to go."

  "Yes, it's our lucky night," said Henry.

  Stopping occasionally to listen for pursuit, they ran about four hours,and then took a long rest by the side of a cool little brook from whichthey drank deeply. Then Henry told what he had heard.

  "It's not their intention to fight at Chillicothe," he said."Timmendiquas, of course, wanted to make a stand, but Girty and theolder chiefs prevented him and decided on Piqua. It's likely, I think,that the authority of White Lightning has been weakened by their defeatat the mouth of the Licking."

  Then he related every word that he had been able to catch.

  "This is mighty important," said Paul, "and Colonel Clark will surely beglad to hear your news."

  After a rest of one hour they pushed on at great speed and they did notstop the next day until they saw Colonel Clark's vanguard. Clark himselfwas at the front and with him were Boone, Kenton and Thomas. The face ofthe Colonel became eager when he saw the five emerge from theundergrowth.

  "Anything to tell?" he asked briefly.

  When Henry related what he had heard from the window of the corncrib,the Colonel uttered short but earnest words of thanks, and put his handupon the lad's shoulder.

  "Once more we are in great debt to you, young sir," he said. "Youbrought our forces together at the Licking, and now you guide our maincampaign. This news that the savages will not defend Chillicothe willgive our men great encouragement. Already they will see the enemyfleeing before them."

  Colonel Clark was a good prophet. The men cheered when they heard thatthe Indian force was likely to abandon Chillicothe and they were anxiousto press forward at increased speed, but the leader would not permit,nor would he allow them to disarrange their marching order in theslightest. He had never been defeated by the Indians, because he hadnever given them a chance to trap and surprise him, and he did not meanto do so now.

  "Plenty of time, boys--plenty of time," he said, soothingly. "Before wefinish this campaign you'll get all the fighting you want. Don't forgetthat."

  That night, which was to be the last before reaching Chillicothe, hedoubled the guard. Except the five, who had fully earned the right tosleep, the very best of the scouts and sharpshooters were on watch.Skirmishers were thrown far out among the bushes, and no matter how darkthe night might be, no considerable Indian force could ever get nearenough for surprise. Boone, Kenton, Thomas and others heard signals, thehoots of owls and the howls of wolves, but they continued their watchundisturbed. So long as a thousand good men were there in the wildernessin a heavy square, bristling with rifles and artillery, they did notcare how many signals the savages made to one another.

  Morning came, bright and hot. It was the sixth of August, the month whenthe great heats that sometimes hang over the Ohio River Valley usuallyreach their uttermost.

  This promised to be such a day. After the bright dawn the atmospherebecame thick and heavy. Sweat stood on every face. Exertion was aneffort. Yet the men felt no abatement of zeal. In three or four hoursmore, they would reach Chillicothe unless the enemy gave battle first.Nevertheless little was said. The veteran frontiersmen knew the valor oftheir enemy, and his wonderful skill as a forest fighter. This was nofestival to which they were going. Many of them would never return toKentucky.

  They marched about three miles. It was noon now, and the sun from itsvantage point in the center of the heavens poured down a flood ofburning rays upon them. Colonel Clark, with his usual patience, made themen halt for a few minutes and take food. Their formation had never beenbroken for a moment. No matter from what side the attack came the wholearmy could face it inside of two minutes.

  The five with Boone, Kenton and Thomas were just ahead of the vanguard,and Colonel Clark who was now on horseback rode up to them.

  "How far would you say it is to Chillicothe?" he asked Henry.

  "We should be there in an hour."

  Colonel Clark looked at his watch.

  "One o'clock in the afternoon," he said. "That will give us plenty oftime for a battle, if they choose to offer it to us, but it looks as ifwe would receive no such offer. All that you have said, young sir, iscoming to pass."

  They were following the broad trail left by the Indian army on itsretreat, but not a single warrior appeared to oppose them. There were nosounds in the woods save those made by themselves. No bark of dog orsignal of savage came from the village which was now just beyond a thinveil of forest.

  Colonel Clark's iron self-control yielded a little. He allowed the mento hasten somewhat, and they came all at once into the corn field whichHenry and his friends had entered. They saw, beyond, the walls and roofsof Chillicothe. Colonel Clark instantly ordered a halt. A field ofwaving corn could hold a thousand hidden warriors, but Boone, Henry andthe others were already in the corn and announced that nobody was there.Then the army with a great shout advanced on the run, the wheels of thecannon grinding down the corn.

  In five minutes they were at Chillicothe, and then they saw flamesleaping from the highest houses. The town was on fire and all its peoplehad fled. The broad trail, littered with fragments, showed that they hadgone towards Piqua. But the army, still kept in battle order, did notfollow yet. It watched the burning of Chillicothe and helped it along.The soldiers, with the cannon in the center, were drawn up just on theoutside of the town, and, under order of the officers, many of themseized torches and lighted tepee and wigwam. The dry corn in the fieldsand everything else that would burn was set on fire. What would notburn was trampled to a pulp beneath the feet of men and horses.

  Meanwhile the flames spread to every part of the village, united andfused into one vast conflagration. The sight thrilled and awed evenHenry, Paul, and the others who had seen similar things in the Iroquoiscountry. But there were not many in that army of white men who feltpity. This was Chillicothe, the greatest of the Western Indian towns.Some of them had been held prisoners there. Others had seen theirfriends tortured to death at this very place. The wives and children ofmany had been taken away to Chillicothe and no one had ever seen orheard of them again. Here the great Indian forays started and the veryname of Chillicothe was hateful to the white men who had come frombeyond the Ohio to destroy it and the warriors who lived there. Theywere glad to see it burning. They rejoiced when wigwams and CouncilHouse crashed down in blazing timbers. It pleased them to see the cornand beans and all the Indian stores destroyed, because then the warriorsmust hunt in the forest for food, and would have no time to hunt in theKentucky woods for white scalps.

  The five stayed on the side of the town somewhat away from theconflagration.
The heat was tremendous. It was a big town and the flamesrose in an enormous red tower waving under the wind, and roaring as theyate into fresh food. Light tepees were licked up in an instant. Sparksflew in myriads and red coals were carried by the wind. Orchards andfields were swept away with the rest by the fiery blast. A great pall ofashes began to settle over the country surrounding the town.

  "I've never seen anything before on the same scale," said Paul, "and itwill certainly be a terrible blow to the Indians."

  "But it will not break either their spirit or their power," said Henry."To do that we've got to beat them in battle, and they'll be waiting forus at Piqua."

  The fire burned all the afternoon, but when the twilight came the townwas wholly consumed. Not a house or tepee was left standing. Over a widearea there was nothing but a mass of burning coals, which glowed andcast a bright light against the coming dark. Clouds of smoke gathered,but the wind blew them off to the eastward and the site of Chillicothewas yet almost as light as day. On the outward edges of this mass ofcoals the men cooked their suppers.

  The night advanced. Again it was very hot and close, with but littlewind stirring. All about them it was still as light as day. For morethan a mile the embers, yet red and glowing, lay, and in the orchardstree trunks smoldered casting out alternate flame and smoke. Save forthose melancholy ruins everything was swept bare. At the edge of thewoods an Indian dog poked his nose at the sky and howled dismally. Itaffected the nerves of Henry and Paul, who walked across the corn fieldsand chased him away with stones.

  "I'm sorry," said Paul, looking back at the wide range of ruin, "thatthese things have to be done, even in war."

  "So am I, Paul," said Henry, "but think how many bands have gone forthfrom this place to do destruction upon our people. We have to fight sucha foe with the weapons that we can use."

  They did not stay long at the edge of the woods, knowing that Indiansharpshooters might be lurking there, but went back to their friends andthe army. The men having eaten amply and having looked upon thedestruction of Chillicothe were in joyous mood, but their leader did notpermit them to relax caution a particle. Too often the borderers,thinking victory won, permitted themselves to fall into disorder, whentheir victory was turned into defeat by the shrewd foe. Now the menspread their blankets far enough away from the woods to be safe fromsharpshooters hidden there. The guard was made of unusual strength, andgunners were always at the cannon in case of a night attack.

  The five were not on duty that night, in view of what they had donealready, and they spread their blankets near the edge of the corn field,across which they had run at such good speed. The coals still glowed.Far off they heard the howling of wolves.

  "Is there any danger of a night attack?" asked Paul.

  "I don't think so," replied Henry. "Of course the Indians have spies inthe woods and they will report that it is impossible to surprise us."

  It was a long time before Henry could go to sleep. The great eventsthrough which he had been crowded upon his mind. He had seen theIroquois win and then he had seen them destroyed. The western tribes hadwon victories too and now a great commander was striking at their veryheart. Their capital lay in ruins, and, unless Timmendiquas could defeatthe white men in battle, when they marched on Piqua, then the westerntribes also would receive a blow from which they could never recover.Despite himself, he was sorry for Timmendiquas. Nevertheless he wasloyal in every fiber to his own people.

  The howling of the wolves came nearer. They would find little for theirteeth among these ruins, but they knew somehow that destruction had beendone, and instinct called them to the place. It was an unpleasant soundand it made Henry shiver a little. It made him think of what was to comefor the Indians. Even savages, in the fierce winters of the North, wouldsuffer for lost Chillicothe. Wooden houses and lodges could not bereplaced in a day. While the great beds of coals were still glowing hefell asleep, but he was up with the others at dawn.

  It was one of the most somber days that Henry had ever seen. The heat,close, heavy and thick, like a mist, endured, but the sun did not shine.The whole circle of the sky was covered with gray clouds. Everything wassullen and ugly. Some timbers in the vast ruin of Chillicothe yet burnedand showed red edges, but it would be impossible to conceive of a moredesolate heap. Piles of ashes and dead coals were everywhere. The firesthat were soon lighted served the double purpose of cooking and ofmaking cheer. But while they ate, the skies grew perceptibly darker. Noray of the sun broke anywhere through the steel-colored atmosphere.

  Colonel Clark became anxious. He had intended to start early for Piqua,but storms in the woods must be reckoned with, as one reckons with anenemy. He delayed and sent forward a scouting party of fifteen men underBoone, who, of course, included the five in the fifteen. Boone, owing tohis captivity among the Indians, knew something about the country, andhe led them straight toward Piqua. As Piqua and Chillicothe, two largeIndian towns, were only twelve miles apart, there was an Indian road orbroad trail between them, and they followed it for some distance.

  The road showed the haste with which the inhabitants of Chillicothe hadfled. Here and there were feathers which had fallen from the scalp locksof the men or the braids of the women. Now they came to a gourd, or arude iron skillet bought at a British post.

  After four or five miles Boone deemed it wiser to turn into the thickwoods. The Indians with such a formidable force only twelve miles awaywould certainly have out sentries and skirmishers, and his cautiousmovement was just in time, as less than three hundred yards further onthey were fired upon from the bushes. They replied with a few shots, butit was not Boone's intention to precipitate a real skirmish. He merelywished to know if the Indians were on guard, and, in a few minutes, hedrew off his men and retired.

  They were followed by derisive yells which said plainly enough that, inthe opinion of the Indians, they were afraid. Some of the younger menwanted to go back, but Boone remained firm in purpose and tranquil inmind.

  "Let 'em yell at us all they want to," he said in his peculiarly gentlevoice. "We can stand it, and we'll see how they can stand the battleto-day or to-morrow when the army comes up."

  They were back at the camp about two hours after noon, and reported thatthe Indians had sentinels and skirmishers on the way to Piqua. But Clarkthought they could be brushed aside, and as the clouds had lightenedsomewhat, they started at four o'clock. Good humor was restored at onceto the men. They were moving now and in a few hours they might bring thecampaign to a head, if the Indians only stood. Some believed that theywould not stand even at Piqua.

  The order of march that had been preserved all the way from the mouth ofthe Licking remained unbroken. Colonel Clark led, Colonel Logancommanded the rear guard, the soldiers were in four lines, ready towheel in any direction, and the cannon were in the center. They followedthe Indian road, but ahead of all were Henry and his comrades, alwayssearching the woods for a sight of some flitting Indian figure. Henrydid not believe there would be any skirmishes before they reached Piqua,but he was not among those who did not think the Indians would make astand there. He knew Timmendiquas too well. The Wyandot leader hadyielded, when the majority of the chiefs favored Piqua instead ofChillicothe, but now he would certainly hold them to the agreement. Thetrail led on unceasingly, but the brightening of the skies wasdeceptive. The clouds soon closed in again, heavier and blacker thanever. Although it was only mid-afternoon it became almost as dark asnight. Then the lightning began to play in swift flashes, so bright thatthe men were dazzled, and the thunder cracked and roared in tremendousvolume.

  "If I live through the campaign," said Paul, "I shall certainly rememberit by this storm, if by nothing else."

  The thunder was so great that he was compelled fairly to shriek out hiswords. Save when the lightning flashed he could see only the head of thearmy. Presently both thunder and lightning ceased, the wind set up avast moaning and then the rain came. Colonel Clark and his officers werealready at work, instructing the men to put up as many tents
aspossible, and, under any circumstances to keep their arms and powderdry. Here again discipline and experience told, as the orders wereobeyed to the last detail.

  The five sheltered themselves as well as they could under the trees andthey felt that Paul's words about the storm were true. Certainly theycould never forget it. The bottom had dropped out of the clouds, and allthe rain, stowed for months, was pouring down in a few hours. They soonabandoned any attempt to protect themselves, and devoted all their careto their ammunition.

  For more than two hours the rain fell in seemingly solid sheets. Then itceased abruptly, and the late afternoon sun broke out, tingeing theforest with gold. Yet every bush and tree still ran water. Pools andoften little lakes stood in the valleys. The earth was soaked deep. Theprecious ammunition and most of the stores were dry, but every manwhether in a tent or not was wet to the skin.

  It was obvious that they could not go on and attack Piqua at once, asthey would arrive far in the night, and the most skilled of theborderers were ordered to try their cunning at lighting fires. Patienceand persistence had their reward. The bark was stripped from fallentrees, and dry splinters were cut from it. When these were lighted withflint and steel the problem was solved. Heat triumphed over wet, andsoon twenty glorious fires were blazing in the forest. The men wereallowed to dry their clothes in relays, each relay baring itself andholding its clothes before the fire until the last touch of damp wasgone.

  All the time a vigilant watch was kept in the woods. Indians mightattack when their enemy was depressed by storm and wet, but nothing todisturb the peace of the drying army occurred. Wolves howled again faraway but they were still prowling among the ruins of Chillicothe,seeking unburned portions of venison or other meat. After the storm theclose oppressive heat disappeared. A fresh and cool wind blew. Out camethe moon and stars and they shone in a silky blue. The leaves and grassbegan to dry. The five lay down within range of the fires. Shif'less Solmade himself very comfortable on his blanket.

  "I don't want anybody to bother me now," he said, "'cause I'm goin' tosleep all through the night. No Injuns will be roun' here disturbin' me,an' I don't want no white man to try it either."

  The shiftless one knew what he was talking about, as there was no alarmin the night and early the next morning the army began its march again.But Henry was sure there would be a fierce fight at Piqua.

  They still followed the Indian road, and now went a little faster,although never breaking their old formation for a single instant. Yetevery heart throbbed. They would soon be at Piqua, face to face with theallied forces led by their best chiefs. It was likely that their firewould burst from their undergrowth at any moment. But the scouts stillreported nothing. Most of the morning was gone and they came to a broadbut shallow stream. It was Mad River, and Piqua was not more than a mileup its stream.

  "Surely they will fight us here," was the thought of Clark. He haltedhis army and the scouts crossed the stream at many points. They beat upthe woods and found no enemy, although Piqua was so near. Then the orderto march was given again, and the whole army plunged into the stream.The heavy wheels of the cannon grated on the bottom, but they were stillkept in the very center of the force. Clark never abated his resolve toprotect these guns at all hazards from capture. But the cannon passedsafely, and then came Logan with the rear guard. It, too, crossed andthe commander drew a mighty breath of relief.

  "How far away is Piqua now?" he asked of a man who had once been aprisoner there.

  "Not more than a mile," he replied. "Soon you can see the smoke from itrising above the trees."

  "Ah, I see it now. Then they have not set their town on fire, and theyare not running away. We shall have a battle."

  The news was quickly passed throughout the army, and eagerness began toshow. The men wanted to be led on at once. It was nearly noon, and grassand foliage were dry again. There was not a cloud in the heavens, andthe sun was a golden circle in a solid blue dome.

  "Finest day for a fight I ever saw," said Tom Ross.

  Paul laughed but it was a nervous laugh, coming from high tension. Hewas not afraid, but he knew they were going into battle. They passedinto the forest and beyond in an open space they saw the houses, wigwamsand tepees of Piqua scattered along Mad River. Just before them was asort of prairie covered with weeds as high as a man's head. Henry threwhimself flat upon the ground and peered in among the weeds.

  "Back! back!" he cried in a tremendous voice. "The warriors are here!"

  His sharp eyes had caught glimpses of hundreds of forms lying among theweeds. The whole army recoiled, and then a sheet of flame burst from thefield, followed by the fierce war whoop of the Indians. The bullets sungin swarms like bees over his head, but knowing that all would fire atonce after the Indian custom, he leaped to his feet, and ran to theshelter of the forest before they could reload and deliver the secondvolley.

  "Here's a tree, Henry," said Shif'less Sol; "a lot of officers wantedit, but I've saved it for you."

  But it was good-natured banter. There was not a sign of panic in thearmy. The men at once formed themselves into line of battle, accordingto their instructions, and opened a terrible fire upon the weeds inwhich the warriors lay concealed. Hundreds of bullets swept every partof the cover, and then the cannon sent in round shot and grape, cuttingdown weeds and warriors together, and driving the savage force in flightto shelter.

  But Timmendiquas, who had chosen the position, had reckoned well. Thefield was not only covered with high weeds, but the portion near thetown was intersected with deep gullies. The warriors fell back in goodorder and sought refuge in these gullies which would hold hundreds. Herebullets, cannon balls and grape shot alike passed over their heads, andsuffering but little loss, they sent back a storm of their own bullets.

  The army advanced to the edge of the woods, and was ready to chargeacross them but Colonel Clark hesitated. Before they could reach thegullies his men might be cut in pieces by a protected foe. The five,Boone, and many other of the best frontiersmen had already sought theshelter of stones or little hillocks, and were firing at every head thatappeared above the edge of the gullies. Before the smoke became toodense Henry saw beyond the gullies that Piqua was a large town, largerthan they had supposed. It would perhaps be impossible for the army toenvelop it. In fact, it was built in the French-Canadian style and ranthree miles up and down Mad River.

  Henry heard the fierce war whoop rising again and again above the firingwhich was now an unbroken crash. He also heard another and shrillernote, and he knew it was the shouting that came from the vast swarm ofsquaws and children in Piqua. The yell of the Indians also took on atriumphant tone. It seemed that the beginning of the battle was in theirfront, and the ambushed warriors in the gullies were strengthened byother forces on their right and left that crept forward and opened aheavy fire from cover. Along a range of more than a mile there was asteady flash of firing, and it seemed impossible for any force toadvance into it and live.

  Fortunate, again fortunate, and thrice fortunate were the frontiersmenwho were veterans, also! The cannon were sheltered in the wood and themen were made to lie down. The great guns still thundered across thefield, but the riflemen held their fire, while the Indian shout oftriumph swelled higher and higher. In this terrible moment when manyanother commander would have lost his head, the staunch heart of Clarknever faltered. He hastily called his leading officers and scouts, andwhile the battle flamed before them, he gave his orders behind a screenof bushes. He bade Colonel Logan, assisted by Colonel Floyd and ColonelHarrod, to take four hundred men, circle to the east of the town asquickly as he could, and attack with all his might. After giving alittle time for the circuit, Clark, with the artillery, would marchstraight across the field in the face of the main Indian force. He gaveHenry and his comrades their choice as to which body with which theywould march.

  "We go with you and the artillery across the field," replied Henry atonce.

  "I thought so," said Clark with a smile.

  The five la
y down at the edge of the forest. Full of experience, theyknew that it was not worth while now to be sending bullets toward thegullies. They knew, also, that the charge in which they were about totake part would offer as much danger as anything they had ever met. Itis likely that every one of them thought of Wareville, and their kin,but they said nothing.

  A few men in front maintained the fire in order to keep the Indiansacross the field busy, but the great majority, lying quiet, waited tohear the rifles of Logan and the four hundred. Meanwhile this flankingforce emerged from the woods, and having now become the left wing of theAmerican army, sought to rush the town. It was immediately assailed by apowerful Indian force, and a furious battle followed. One side of it wasexposed to another field from which Indians sent in bullets in showers.Nevertheless the men, encouraged by Logan, Floyd, and Harrod, drovestraight toward Piqua. The Indians in front of them were led by Girty,Braxton Wyatt, Blackstaffe and Moluntha, the Shawnee, and they foughtalike from open and covert, offering the most desperate resistance. Thefour hundred were compelled now and then to yield a few yards, butalways they gained it back, and more. Slowly the town came nearer, andnow Logan's men heard to their right a welcome crash that told themClark was advancing.

  As soon as Clark heard the sound of Logan's battle, he gave the signalto his men to attack. In front of them, much of the smoke had lifted,and they could see the field now, with most of its weeds cut away.Beyond was a strip of woods, and on the other side of the woods butalready visible through the bushes, lay the long town.

  "Now for it!" cried Henry to his comrades who were close about him.

  "Forward!" shouted Clark, and with a tremendous shout the men chargedinto the field, the artillery drawn as always in the center and blazingthe way. From the gullies came the answering fire in shower after showerof bullets. Henry heard them thudding upon human bodies, and he heardthe low cries of men as they fell, but the smoke and the odor ofgunpowder were in his nostrils, and his head was hot. Everything was redbefore him, and he had a furious desire to reach the gullies and rush inamong the Indians. It was only two hundred yards across the field, butalready the smoke was gathering in dense clouds, split apart now andthen by the discharges of the cannon. Behind them the charging men lefta trail of dead and dying. Henry took a hasty look to see if hiscomrades were still upon their feet. Two were on one side of him and twoon the other. There was a patch of red on Jim Hart's shoulder andanother on Tom Ross's, but they did not seem to amount to anything.

  Half way across the field the column staggered for a moment under theheavy fire which never slackened for an instant, but it recovered itselfquickly and went on. The smoke lifted and Henry saw Timmendiquas at theedge of the nearest gully, a splendid figure stalking up and down,obviously giving orders. He had expected to find him there. He knew thatwherever the battle was thickest Timmendiquas would be. Then the smokedrifted down again, and his head grew hotter than ever. The firingincreased in rapidity and volume, both before them and on their left.The crash of the second battle moved on with them. Even in those rushingmoments Henry knew that the left flank under Logan was forcing its wayforward, and his heart gave a leap of joy. If the two commands everunited in the village they might crush everything. So eager did hebecome that he began to shout: "On! On!" without knowing it.

  They were nearing the gullies now and once more Henry saw Timmendiquaswho seemed to be shouting to his men. It was a fleeting glimpse but sovivid and intense that Henry never forgot it. The great Wyandot chiefwas a very war god. His eyes flamed and fiercely brandishing his greattomahawk, he shouted to the warriors to stand.

  The left flank under Logan and the larger force under Clark were nowalmost in touch. The American line of battle was a mile long andeverywhere they were faced by a foe superior in numbers. Despite thecannon, always terrifying to them, the Indians stood firm, and behindthem thousands of women and children urged them on to the conflict. Theyknew, too, the greatness of the crisis. The war that they had carried sooften to the white settlements in Kentucky was now brought to them. Oneof their great towns, Chillicothe, was already destroyed. Should Piqua,the other, share the same fate? Timmendiquas, the greatest of theleaders, the bravest of men said no, and they sought to equal hiscourage. No Indian chief that day shirked anything; yet the white foealways advanced, and the boom of the cannon sounded in their ears likethe crack of doom. Some of the balls now passed over the fields throughthe strip of woods and smashed into the houses of the town. The shoutingof the women became shriller.

  Nearer and nearer came the white enemy. The great barrels and wheels ofthe cannon loomed terribly through the smoke. The blasts of fire fromtheir muzzles were like strokes of lightning. The Indians in the firstgully began to leap out and dart back. Henry saw the dusky figuresgiving way and he shouted, still unconsciously,--"On! On! They'rerunning! They're running!" Others had seen the same movement, and a roarof triumph passed up and down the white line, thinned now by the riflefire, but no longer in doubt of victory.

  They rushed upon the gullies, they cleaned out the first and second andthird and all; they helped the cannon across, and now the contactbetween the two forces was perfect. They bore down upon the town, butthey encountered a new obstacle. Rallied by Timmendiquas and others thewarriors filled the strip of woods between the fields and Piqua. Theylay down in the undergrowth, they hid behind every tree, and shoutingtheir war cries, they refused to give another step. But Clark, theastute, would not permit any diminution in the zeal of his men, nowcarried to the highest pitch by seeming victory. He knew the danger ofallowing the fire of battle to grow cold.

  He ordered a rifle fire of unparalleled rapidity to be poured into thewood, and then the cannon were loaded and discharged at the same spot asfast as possible. Not an Indian could show his head. Boughs and twigsrattled down upon them. Saplings cut through at the base by cannon shotfell with a crash. Although Timmendiquas, Moluntha, Captain Pipe andothers raged up and down, the warriors began to lose spirit. It was soontold among them that Girty and all the other renegades had ceasedfighting and had retired to the town. Girty was a white man but he waswise; he was faithful to the Indians; he had proved it many times, andif he gave up the battle it must be lost. Never had the Indians foughtbetter than they had fought that day but it seemed to them that the faceof Manitou was turned from them.

  While they doubted, while the moment of gloom was present, Clark withhis whole united force rushed into the wood, drove every warrior beforehim, followed them into Piqua, and the Indian host was beaten.