stationed
around the camp-fires. The night was cold, and rain fell at intervals,
although at times the moon shone brightly through the flying clouds.

The Governor was well aware of the proneness of the Indians to early
morning attacks, so that about four o'clock on the 7th of November he
rose to call the men to parade. He had barely pulled on his boots when
the forest stillness was broken by the crack of a rifle at the farthest
angle of the camp, and instantly the Indian yell, followed by a
fusillade, told that a general attack had begun. Before the militiamen
could emerge in force from their tents, the sentinel line was broken
and the red warriors were pouring into the enclosure. Desperate fighting
ensued, and when time for reloading failed, it was rifle butt and
bayonet against tomahawk and scalping knife in hand-to-hand combat. For
two hours the battle raged in the darkness, and only when daylight came
were the troops able to charge the redskins, dislodge them from behind
the trees, and drive them to a safe distance in the neighboring swamp.
Sixty-one of Harrison's officers and men were killed or mortally
wounded; one hundred and twenty-seven others suffered serious injury.
The Governor himself probably owed his life to the circumstance that in
the confusion he mounted a bay horse instead of his own white stallion,
whose rider was shot early in the contest.

The Indian losses were small, and for twenty-four hours Harrison's
forces kept their places, hourly expecting another assault. "Night,"
wrote one of the men subsequently, "found every man mounting guard,
without food, fire, or light and in a drizzling rain. The Indian dogs,
during the dark hours, produced frequent alarms by prowling in search
of carrion about the sentinels." There being no further sign of
hostilities, early on the 8th of November a body of mounted riflemen set
out for the Prophet's village, which they found deserted. The place had
evidently been abandoned in haste, for nothing--not even a fresh stock
of English guns and powder--had been destroyed or carried off. After
confiscating much-needed provisions and other valuables, Harrison
ordered the village to be burned. Then, abandoning camp furniture and
private baggage to make room in the wagons for the wounded, he set out
on the return trip to Vincennes. A company was left at Fort Harrison,
and the main force reached the capital on the 18th of November.

Throughout the western country the news