anied the army were all mixed
together. Neither command nor example had the slightest weight; the men
were abandoned to the terrible selfishness of utter fear. They threw
away their weapons as they ran. They thought of nothing but escape, and
fled in a huddle, the stronger and the few who had horses trampling
their way to the front through the old, the weak, and the wounded; while
behind them raged the Indian tomahawk. Fortunately the attraction of
plundering the camp was so overpowering that the savages only followed
the army about four miles; otherwise hardly a man would have escaped.

Story of Van Cleve the Packer.

St. Clair was himself in much danger, for he tried to stay behind and
stem the torrent of fugitives; but he failed, being swept forward by the
crowd, and when he attempted to ride to the front to rally them, he
failed again, for his horse could not be pricked out of a walk. The
packer, Van Cleve, in his journal, gives a picture of the flight. He was
himself one of the few who lost neither courage nor generosity in the
rout.

Among his fellow packers were his uncle and a young man named Bonham,
who was his close and dear friend. The uncle was shot in the wrist, the
ball lodging near his shoulder; but he escaped. Bonham, just before the
retreat began, was shot through both hips, so that he could not walk.
Young Van Cleve got him a horse, on which he was with difficulty
mounted; then, as the flight began, Bonham bade Van Cleve look to his
safety, as he was on foot, and the two separated. Bonham rode until the
pursuit had almost ceased; then, weak and crippled, he was thrown off
his horse and slain. Meanwhile Van Cleve ran steadily on foot. By the
time he had gone two miles most of the mounted men had passed him. A
boy, on the point of falling from exhaustion, now begged his help; and
the kind-hearted backwoodsman seized the lad and pulled him along nearly
two miles farther, when he himself became so worn-out that he nearly
fell. There were still two horses in the rear, one carrying three men,
and one two; and behind the latter Van Cleve, summoning his strength,
threw the boy, who escaped. Nor did Van Cleve's pity for his fellows
cease with this; for he stopped to tie his handkerchief around the knee
of a wounded man. His violent exertions gave him a cramp in both thighs,
so that he could barely walk; and in consequence the strong and active
passed him until he was within a hundred yards of the rear, wh