ard them thudding upon human bodies, and he heard
the low cries of men as they fell, but the smoke and the odor of
gunpowder were in his nostrils, and his head was hot. Everything was red
before him, and he had a furious desire to reach the gullies and rush in
among the Indians. It was only two hundred yards across the field, but
already the smoke was gathering in dense clouds, split apart now and
then by the discharges of the cannon. Behind them the charging men left
a trail of dead and dying. Henry took a hasty look to see if his
comrades were still upon their feet. Two were on one side of him and two
on the other. There was a patch of red on Jim Hart's shoulder and
another on Tom Ross's, but they did not seem to amount to anything.

Half way across the field the column staggered for a moment under the
heavy fire which never slackened for an instant, but it recovered itself
quickly and went on. The smoke lifted and Henry saw Timmendiquas at the
edge of the nearest gully, a splendid figure stalking up and down,
obviously giving orders. He had expected to find him there. He knew that
wherever the battle was thickest Timmendiquas would be. Then the smoke
drifted down again, and his head grew hotter than ever. The firing
increased in rapidity and volume, both before them and on their left.
The crash of the second battle moved on with them. Even in those rushing
moments Henry knew that the left flank under Logan was forcing its way
forward, and his heart gave a leap of joy. If the two commands ever
united in the village they might crush everything. So eager did he
become that he began to shout: "On! On!" without knowing it.

They were nearing the gullies now and once more Henry saw Timmendiquas
who seemed to be shouting to his men. It was a fleeting glimpse but so
vivid and intense that Henry never forgot it. The great Wyandot chief
was a very war god. His eyes flamed and fiercely brandishing his great
tomahawk, he shouted to the warriors to stand.

The left flank under Logan and the larger force under Clark were now
almost in touch. The American line of battle was a mile long and
everywhere they were faced by a foe superior in numbers. Despite the
cannon, always terrifying to them, the Indians stood firm, and behind
them thousands of women and children urged them on to the conflict. They
knew, too, the greatness of the crisis. The war that they had carried so
often to the white settlements in Kentucky was now brought to