excited, and of course their account of
the battle was greatly exaggerated, believing as they did that they were
the only escaped survivors. Their report, to say the least, was very
startling, allowing that only the half were true; and in consequence,
Logan decided on retracing his steps to the station, until he should be
able to collect more definite news concerning the fight. Gradually one
party after another came dropping in; and by nine o'clock nearly or
quite all of the survivors were assembled in the fortress; when it was
ascertained that a little over one-third of the party, or between sixty
and seventy of those engaged in the battle, were missing. It was a sad
night of wailing, and lamentation, and dreadful excitement in the
station; for scarcely a family there, but was mourning the loss of some
friend or relation. Algernon and Isaac had returned, to the great joy of
those most interested in their welfare; but the father-in-law of the
latter came not, and there was mourning in consequence.

A consultation between Colonels Logan and Boone, resulted in the
decision to march forthwith to the battle-ground. Accordingly every
thing being got in readiness, Colonel Logan set out with his command,
at a late hour the same night, accompanied by Boone, and a few of the
survivors of the ill-fated engagement. Towards morning a halt of three
hours was ordered for rest and refreshment: when the line of march was
again taken up; and by noon of the day succeeding the battle, the forces
arrived upon the ground, where a most horribly repulsive scene met their
view.

The Indians had departed on their homeward route, bearing their killed
and wounded away from the field of carnage; but the dead and mutilated
bodies of the whites still remained where they had fallen, presenting
a spectacle the most hideous and revolting possibly to be conceived.
In the edge of the stream, on the banks, up the ridge, and along the
buffalo trace to the ravines, were lying the bloody and mangled corses
of the gallant heroes--who, the day before, full of ardor and life,
had rushed on to the battle and an untimely and inglorious death--now
swollen, putrid, and in the first stage of decomposition, from the
action of the scorching rays of an August sun--surrounded by vultures
and crows, and all species of carrion fowl; many of which, having gorged
themselves on the horrid repast, were either sweeping overhead in large
flocks, and screeching their funeral di