them. One
of their great towns, Chillicothe, was already destroyed. Should Piqua,
the other, share the same fate? Timmendiquas, the greatest of the
leaders, the bravest of men said no, and they sought to equal his
courage. No Indian chief that day shirked anything; yet the white foe
always advanced, and the boom of the cannon sounded in their ears like
the crack of doom. Some of the balls now passed over the fields through
the strip of woods and smashed into the houses of the town. The shouting
of the women became shriller.

Nearer and nearer came the white enemy. The great barrels and wheels of
the cannon loomed terribly through the smoke. The blasts of fire from
their muzzles were like strokes of lightning. The Indians in the first
gully began to leap out and dart back. Henry saw the dusky figures
giving way and he shouted, still unconsciously,--"On! On! They're
running! They're running!" Others had seen the same movement, and a roar
of triumph passed up and down the white line, thinned now by the rifle
fire, but no longer in doubt of victory.

They rushed upon the gullies, they cleaned out the first and second and
third and all; they helped the cannon across, and now the contact
between the two forces was perfect. They bore down upon the town, but
they encountered a new obstacle. Rallied by Timmendiquas and others the
warriors filled the strip of woods between the fields and Piqua. They
lay down in the undergrowth, they hid behind every tree, and shouting
their war cries, they refused to give another step. But Clark, the
astute, would not permit any diminution in the zeal of his men, now
carried to the highest pitch by seeming victory. He knew the danger of
allowing the fire of battle to grow cold.

He ordered a rifle fire of unparalleled rapidity to be poured into the
wood, and then the cannon were loaded and discharged at the same spot as
fast as possible. Not an Indian could show his head. Boughs and twigs
rattled down upon them. Saplings cut through at the base by cannon shot
fell with a crash. Although Timmendiquas, Moluntha, Captain Pipe and
others raged up and down, the warriors began to lose spirit. It was soon
told among them that Girty and all the other renegades had ceased
fighting and had retired to the town. Girty was a white man but he was
wise; he was faithful to the Indians; he had proved it many times, and
if he gave up the battle it must be lost. Never had the Indians fought
better than they had