heavy dew had so dampened
them that they burned slowly and the destruction was not as complete as
the men wished to make it. Many of the lodges were made of skins, and
these would not burn at all.

Though the Indians were driven from their camp they were not yet
defeated. Joseph's voice, and that of his lieutenants, White Bird and
Looking Glass, were heard above the din of battle, rallying their
warriors and cheering them on to deeds of valor.

"Why are we retreating?" shouted White Bird. "Since the world was made,
brave men have fought for their women and children. Shall we run into
the mountains and let these white dogs kill our women and children
before our eyes? It is better that we should be killed fighting. Now is
our time to fight. These soldiers can not fight harder than the ones we
defeated on Salmon River and White Bird Canyon. Fight! Shoot them down!
We can shoot as well as any of these soldiers."

Looking Glass was at the other end of the camp. His voice was heard
calling out, "Wal-lit-ze! Tap-sis-il-pilp! Um-til-ilp-cown! This is a
battle! These men are not asleep as those you murdered in Idaho. These
soldiers mean battle. You tried to break my promise at Lo Lo. You
wanted to fire at the fortified place. Now is the time to show your
courage and fight. You can kill right and left. I would rather see you
killed than the rest, for you commenced the war. It was you who
murdered the settlers in Idaho. Now fight!"

Thus praised and railed at by turns, the men recovered their presence
of mind and charged back into the camp. The fighting was now muzzle to
breast. This deadly encounter lasted for some minutes more, when the
Indians again took to the river bank and delivered their fire with
great precision and deadliness on the troops in open ground. In the
hottest of the fight, Tap-sis-il-pilp was killed. Wal-lit-ze, upon
being told of his companion's death, rushed madly upon a group of
soldiers and was shot dead in his tracks. Thus did two of the three
murderers who were said to have brought on the war pay the penalty of
their crimes with their own blood. The implied wish of their chief that
they might be killed was realized.

Before these two men were killed, so says a surviving Nez Perce, an
almost hand-to-hand fight occurred between an officer and an Indian.

The Indian was killed. His sister saw him fall, and springing to his
side, wrenched the still smoking revolver from his hand, leveled it at
the offi