p of the Indians they would have been routed.

The flanking party of red men kept up a galling fire on the right, and
the patriots dropped fast. The Indians on the Tory left were divided
into six bands who kept up a continuous yelling which did much to
inspirit each other, while the deadly aim told sadly upon the Americans.

The most powerful body of Indians was in a swamp on the left of the
patriots, and by and by they outflanked them. The Americans tried to
manoeuvre so as to face the new danger, but some of them mistook the
order for one to retreat. Everything was thrown into confusion.

Colonel Zebulon Butler, seeing how things were going, galloped up
and down between the opposing lines, calling out--"Don't leave me, my
children. Stand by me and the victory is ours!"

But it was too late. The patriots could not be rallied. They were far
outnumbered, and once thrown into a panic, with the captain of every
company slain, the day was lost.

You cannot picture the distress of the women, children, and feeble old
men waiting at Forty Fort the issue of the battle.

The sorrowful groups on the bank of the river listened to the sounds of
conflict, and read the meaning as they came to their ears.

The steady, regular firing raised their hopes at first. They knew their
sons and friends were fighting well, despite the shouts of the Indians
borne down the valley on the sultry afternoon.

By and by the firing grew more scattering, and instead of being so far
up the river as at first, it was coming closer.

This could mean but one thing; the patriots were retreating before the
Tories and Indians.

One old man, nearly four score years of age, who pleaded to go into the
battle, but was too feeble, could not restrain his feelings. He walked
back and forth, inspired with new strength and full of hope, until the
scattered firing and its approach left no doubt of its meaning.

He paused in his nervous, hobbling pace, and said to the white faced
women standing breathlessly near--"Our boys are retreating: they have
been beaten--all hope is gone!"

The next moment two horsemen galloped into sight. "Colonel Butler and
Colonel Denison!" said the old man, recognizing them; "they bring sad
news."

It was true. They rode their horses on a dead run, and reining up at the
fort, where the people crowded around them, they leaped to the ground,
and Colonel Butler said--"Our boys have been driven from the field, and
the Tories and Indi