The American commander gave the order to fire.Eager fingers were already on the trigger, and a blaze of light ran along the entire rank.The Royal Greens and Rangers, although replying with their own fire, gave back before the storm of bullets, and the Wyoming men, with a shout of triumph, sprang forward.It was always a characteristic of the border settler, despite many disasters and a knowledge of Indian craft and cunning, to rush straight at his foe whenever he saw him.His, unless a trained forest warrior himself, was a headlong bravery, and now this gallant little force asked for nothing but to come to close grips with the enemy.
The men in the center with "Indian" Butler gave back still more.
With cries of victory the Wyoming men pressed forward, firing rapidly, and continuing to drive the mongrel white force.The rifles were cracking rapidly, and smoke arose over the two lines.
The wind caught wisps of it and carried them off down the river.
"It goes better than I thought," said Paul as he reloaded his rifle.
"Not yet," said Henry, "we are fighting the white men only.
Where are all the Indians, who alone outnumber our men more than two to one?""Here they come," said Shif'less Sol, pointing to the depths of the swamp, which was supposed to protect the left flank of the Wyoming force.
The five saw in the spaces, amid the briars and vines, scores of dark figures leaping over the mud, naked to the breech cloth, armed with rifle and tomahawk, and rushing down upon the unprotected side of their foe.The swamp had been but little obstacle to them.
Henry and his comrades gave the alarm at once.As many as possible were called off immediately from the main body, but they were not numerous enough to have any effect.The Indians came through the swamp in hundreds and hundreds, and, as they uttered their triumphant yell, poured a terrible fire into the Wyoming left flank.The defenders were forced to give ground, and the English and Tories came on again.
The fire was now deadly and of great volume.The air was filled with the flashing of the rifles.The cloud of smoke grew heavier, and faces, either from heat or excitement, showed red through it.The air was filled with bullets, and the Wyoming force was being cut down fast, as the fire of more than a thousand rifles converged upon it.
The five at the fringe of the swamp loaded and fired as fast as they could at the Indian horde, but they saw that it was creeping closer and closer, and that the hail of bullets it sent in was cutting away the whole left flank of the defenders.They saw the tall figure of Timmendiquas, a very god of war, leading on the Indians, with his fearless Wyandots in a close cluster around him.Colonel John Durkee, gathering up a force of fifty or sixty, charged straight at the warriors, but he was killed by a withering volley, which drove his men back.
Now occurred a fatal thing, one of those misconceptions which often decide the fate of a battle.The company of Captain Whittlesey, on the extreme left, which was suffering most severely, was ordered to fall back.The entire little army, which was being pressed hard now, seeing the movement of Whittlesey, began to retreat.Even without the mistake it is likely they would have lost in the face of such numbers.
