n, and this had not escaped the watchful eye of
Brant. He was an adept in the tactics of Indian warfare,
and now used his knowledge to good effect. Herkimer had
not gone far along the narrow trail before he found
himself in difficulties. The road slanted down into a
boggy hollow some six or seven miles below Fort Stanwix.
This hollow had a winding course in the form of a crescent,
and across its march a causeway of heavy logs had been
built. Between the ends of the encircling ravine there
was an elevated position, thickly wooded and dry. Upon
this Brant had laid his ambush, having posted his men
with only a slight opening in their ranks towards the
incline of the road.

Down into the gully came the colonials, their wagons and
a small guard bringing up the rear. As they toiled up
the opposing ascent, the gap was closed upon them, and
they were surrounded on every side. The rear-guard were
left behind with the wagons and fled in a tumult, with
a throng of Indians in close pursuit. From the sheltering
trees a deadly fusillade swept the hapless files of those
who were hemmed about on the rising ground. Darting from
their cover, the Indians sprang upon such as lay wounded
and dispatched them with knife and tomahawk.

The first onslaught had resulted in a carnival of blood.
Now the colonials, owing to their numbers, were able to
get together and to place themselves on the defensive.
The fight soon became hand to hand and there ensued one
of the most gruesome melees of the whole War of the
Revolution. The men were able to look into one another's
faces; they fought at quarters too close for bullets,
and relied upon gun-stock, knife-blade, and bayonet.
There was slashing and cutting, clubbing and throttling,
and often in their frenzy they grappled tight and died
in one another's fast embrace. In the midst of it all
Herkimer proved himself no craven. With his leg ripped
by a bullet he propped himself against a tree, lit his
pipe, and directed the order of the battle. Above the
din rang out clear the wild cries of the red men, their
painted bodies flashing bright among the trees. In the
forefront was Brant, fighting vehemently, his towering
form set firmly, his deep voice echoing loud.

While the battle was at its height, rolling clouds had
gathered and a drenching storm checked the combatants in
their work of slaughter. The colonials were still fighting
desperately, but for them the day was lost. After the
few moments'