between the river and the swamp;
but Johnson was to lead another in person across the
swamp against the Indians. The order to charge was given,
and the American horsemen swept towards the British
position. A loud musketry volley rang out along the first
scarlet line, and the cavalry advance was checked for
the moment. Horses reared and plunged, and many of the
riders were thrown from their saddles. The British
delivered a second volley before the Americans recovered
from their confusion. But then, through the white, whirling
smoke, sounded the thunder of trampling hoofs. With
resistless force the American horsemen dashed against
the opposing ranks and fired their pistols with telling
effect. The first line of the British scattered in headlong
flight, seeking shelter behind the reserves. The second
line stood firm and delivered a steady fire; but the men
of the first line were thrown into such disorder by the
sudden attack that they could not be rallied. The Americans
followed up their first charge and pressed hard upon the
exhausted British, for whom there was now no alternative
but to surrender. Those not killed were taken prisoners,
with the exception of about fifty who effected their
escape through the woods. Procter and his staff had taken
flight at the first sight of the enemy.

Behind the swamp, where the Indians were posted, the
battle went no more favourably. Tecumseh and his warriors
had lain silent in their covert until Johnson's cavalry
had advanced well within range. Then the leader's loud
war-cry rang out as the signal for battle. The enemy
shouted a derisive challenge, and the Indians replied
with a well-directed volley. So destructive was the fire
of the Indians that the front line of the Americans was
annihilated. The horses were struggling in the swamp,
and Johnson, himself wounded, ordered some of the horsemen
to dismount, hoping to draw their foe out of cover, while
he and a few of the boldest soldiers led the attack.
Tecumseh's keen eye singled out the American leader. He
rushed through his warriors to strike him down. Johnson
levelled his pistol. Like lightning Tecumseh's tomahawk
gleamed above his head. But before it could whirl on its
deadly flight, there was a flash and a report. Johnson,
weakened by the wound he had already received, but still
clutching the smoking weapon, reeled from his saddle.
Tecumseh's tomahawk dropped harmless to the earth, and
the noblest of red patriots, the grea