d seventy-six (the
number of whites,) sixty-one were killed, and eight taken prisoners.
Cols. Todd and Trigg,--Majors Harland and Bulger,--Capts. Gordon,
McBride, and a son of Daniel Boone, were among those who fell. The
loss of the savages was never known;--they [261] were left in
possession of the battle ground, and at leisure to conceal or carry
off their dead, and when it was next visited by the whites, none
were found.[11]

A most noble and generous act, performed by one of the whites,
deserves to be forever remembered. While they were flying before the
closely pursuing savages, Reynolds (who at Bryant's station had so
cavalierly replied to Girty's demand of its surrender) seeing Col.
Robert Patterson, unhorsed and considerably disabled by his wounds,
painfully struggling to reach the river, sprang from his saddle, and
assisting him to occupy the relinquished seat, enabled that veteran
officer to escape, and fell himself into the hands of the savages. He
was not long however, detained a prisoner by them. He was taken by a
party of only three Indians; and two whites passing hurriedly on
towards the river, just after, two of his captors hastened in pursuit
of them, and he was left guarded by only one. Reynolds was cool and
collected, and only awaited the semblance of an opportunity, to
attempt an escape. Presently the savage in whose custody he was,
stooped to tie his moccason. Suddenly he sprang to one side, and being
fleet of foot, got safely off.

The battle of the Blue Licks was fought on the 19th of August. On the
next day Col. Logan, with three hundred men, met the remnant of the
troops retreating to Bryant's station; and learning the fatal result
of the contest, hurried on to the scene of action to bury the dead,
and avenge their fall--if the enemy should be found yet hovering near.
On his arrival not a savage was to be seen. Flushed with victory, and
exulting in their revenge, they had retired to their towns, to feast
the eyes of their brethren, with the scalps of the slain. The field of
battle presented a miserable spectacle. All was stillness, where so
lately had arisen the shout of the impetuous, but intrepid whites, and
the whoop and yell of the savages, as they closed in deadly conflict;
not a sound was to be heard but the hoarse cry of the vulture,
flapping her wings and mounting into the air, alarmed at the intrusion
of man. Those countenances, which had so lately beamed with daring and
defiance, we