ritish rear. Appearing
in this unexpected quarter they were mistaken for the foe, and as
they emerged from the wood were fired upon by their comrades-in-arms.
The red men in turn mistook the British for Americans and promptly
returned the fire, and for some time disorder and confusion reigned.
The loud remonstrances of the officers were lost in the din and
confusion of battle. Hard pressed in front and, as he imagined,
attacked in the rear, Major Muir ordered a retreat; he then reformed
his men on the crest of a hill to await the appearance of the enemy.
This position commanded a small bridge over which the American
artillery would have to pass. Here, about a quarter of a mile
distant from their former position, the British waited for a quarter
of an hour, after which, as the enemy did not reappear, Muir again
ordered a retreat. His communication with Tecumseh had been broken,
and, hearing sounds of firing from the woods to his left, he inferred
that the Americans were driving the Indians in that direction with
the object of reaching the road to cut him off from his boats. He
gained the shore of the river, however, without interference from
the enemy, found his boats intact, and pulled swiftly towards
Amherstburg.

Tecumseh and his warriors had borne the brunt of the battle and
displayed magnificent courage. After the firing of Muir's men had
ceased, they still fought stubbornly, in spite of the vast numerical
superiority of the enemy, and retreated slowly through the woods
in a westerly direction. Then, turning about, they succeeded in
regaining their canoes, and followed in the wake of the British.
The Americans were unaware of the extent of their success, and
fearing a renewed attack, they abandoned their march and retreated
to Detroit. And it was not until several days after this lively
encounter that they again attempted to reopen communications with
their army to the south.

Four uneventful days followed. The night of the 13th was calm and
cloudless. About Fort Malden sentries paced their ceaseless round.
Camp-fires glowed about the wigwams and blockhouses of Bois Blanc.
Tecumseh lay in the open, surrounded by his sleeping warriors.
Although it was past midnight, his sleepless eyes scanned the
heavens. The moon cast a shimmering path upon the water, in whose
depths myriads of stars were reflected. Even as Tecumseh gazed a
bright star sped like a golden arrow across the sky. He marked its
flight until it fell a