t, here came Mad Jackson's troops to charge the barricade.

That was a terrible fight, at the breast-works. Chief Menewa
encouraged his men. The test of the Holy Ground protected by the Great
Spirit and the prophets had arrived.

The battle was to decide whether the Creek nation or the American
nation was to rule in Georgia and Alabama, and the Red Sticks made
mighty defense. While they raged, they looked for the cloud in the sky.

So close was the fighting, that musket muzzle met musket muzzle, in the
port-holes; pistol shot replied to rifle shot; and bullets from the Red
Sticks were melted upon the bayonets of the soldiers.

Major Lemuel Montgomery sprang upon the top of the barricade. Back he
toppled, shot through the head. "I have lost the flower of my army,"
mourned General Jackson, tears in his eyes.

Lieutenant Houston received an arrow in his thigh; and later, two
bullets in his shoulder.

Lieutenants Moulton and Somerville fell dead.

Again and again the white warriors were swept from the barricade by the
Red Sticks' arrows, spears, tomahawks and balls. Others took their
places, to ply bayonets and guns--stabbing, shooting. The uproar in
the rear grew greater, and many of the Red Sticks behind the
breast-works were being shot in the back; the voices of the prophets
had weakened; no cloud appeared in the sky, bearing to the whites death
from the Great Spirit.

Beset on all sides, Chief Menewa's men began to scurry back for their
timber shelters, to fight their way to the river. But no one
surrendered.

Having won the barricade, and cut off the escape of the Red Sticks in
the opposite direction, the white general halted the further attack.
He sent a flag of truce forward, toward the jungle.

"If you will stop fighting, your lives will be spared," he ordered the
interpreter to call. "Or else first remove your women and children, so
they will not be killed."

But the anxious eyes of warrior and prophet had seen the Spirit cloud
rising, at last, into the sky; high pealed their whoops and chants
again; a volley of bullets answered the truce flag.

The white soldiers re-opened with musket balls and grape-shot. The
Cherokee and Creek scouts, fighting on their side, tried to ferret out
the hiding places. Alas, the cloud proved to be only a little shower,
and then vanished. The Great Spirit had deserted the prophets.

The American bullets thickened. With torches and blazing arrows the
jungle