ed by a foe of treble their number;
who, on their first terrible fire being expended, rushed forth from
their covert, with horrible yells, tomahawk in hand, and, gradually
extending their lines down the buffalo trace, on either side, so as to
cut off the retreat of the whites, closed in upon them in overwhelming
numbers, and the slaughter became immense. Major McGary rushed his
horse to and fro among the enemy, and shouted and fought with all the
desperate impetuosity of his nature. Major Todd did his best to press on
the rear, and Colonel Boone still urged his men to the fight with all
the backwoods eloquence in his power. But, alas! of what avail was
coolness, impetuosity, or desperation now? The Indians were closing in
thicker and thicker. Officers and privates, horsemen and footmen, were
falling before the destructive fire of their rifles, or sinking beneath
their bloody tomahawks, amid yells and screeches the most diabolical.
Cries, groans, and curses, resounded on every hand, from the living, the
wounded, and dying. But few now remained in command. Colonels Todd and
Trigg, Majors Harlan and McBride, Captains Bulger and Gordon, with a
host of other gallant officers, were now no more. Already had the
Indians enclosed them as in a net, hemmed them in on all sides, and they
were falling as grass before the scythe of the mower. Retreat was almost
cut off--in a few minutes it would be entirely. They could hope for
nothing against such odds, but a certain and bloody death. There was a
possibility of escape. A few minutes and it would be too late. They
hesitated--they wavered--they turned and fled; and now it was that a
horrible sight presented itself.

The space between the head of the ravines and the ford of the river a
distance of more than a mile, suddenly became the scene of a hard and
bloody race. As the whites fled, the Indians sprung after them, with
whoops and yells that more resembled those of infuriated demons than
human beings; and whenever an unfortunate Kentuckian was overtaken, he
instantly fell a victim to the tomahawk and scalping knife. Those who
were mounted generally escaped; but the foot suffered dreadfully; and
the whole distance presented an appalling sight of bloody, mangled
corses, strewing the ground in every direction. Girty, the renegade, was
now at the height of his hellish enjoyment. With oaths and curses, and
horrid laughter, his hands and weapons reeking with blood of the slain,
he rushed o