description. Every bit
of cover--bush, tree, or boulder--held its man. With
dogged valour the savages stood their ground, till driven
back by the very impetus of the onset. The enemy were
massed deep in front and but little impression could be
made on their compact ranks. More distressing still, the
Americans had brought their heavy artillery into play,
and it began to thunder against the defences. On this
day Brant was an inspiring figure to his thin line of
warriors. His resolute countenance gave them hope; his
resonant voice rang out strong and clear amid the clamour
and spurred them to resist. Wherever the fight was fiercest
he made his way, issuing his orders with care, speaking
words of cheer, and, in the face of death, striving to
stem the current of certain defeat.

Meanwhile General Sullivan had caught sight of the troops
that infested the rising ground. A detachment was
immediately told off under Major Poor with orders to
storm the slopes and drive the defenders from their
position. The War Chief grasped the situation in an
instant. In a last attempt to save the day, he rallied
his warriors and, with the aid of a battalion of Rangers,
threw himself with renewed energy into the struggle. But
though Brant hurried from place to place with the utmost
energy, it soon became evident that the day was lost.
The Americans climbed the ascent and, in the teeth of a
brave opposition, turned the loyalists' flank. The troops
of the enemy began to fold about the garrison.

'Oonah! Oonah!' The savages' doleful cry of retreat
vibrated upon the air. Moving towards the stream, redskins
and white men crossed it together in headlong flight. It
was an Indian custom to carry the dead from the field of
battle, but on this occasion so precipitate was their
retreat that eleven corpses were left to lie where they
had fallen in the struggle. Sullivan and his army had
undisputed possession of the field. To Brant and to the
men of the Six Nations this was a day of grief and
disaster. The gates of their country were thrown open;
their villages were left undefended; there was nothing
to prevent the ravager from treading down and plundering
the fair land of their fathers, the pride of a noble
race, the gift of the centuries. But in the light of
their conduct at the affair in Cherry Valley it must be
said that their fate was not undeserved.

As General Sullivan advanced, burning and devastating,
he came at length into the valley of