Cursing the obstinacy of the defenders as heartily as any man could do, Willimack drew off his men after bringing away such of the dead and wounded as the Dead Chief would consent to part with. Upon counting the loss and gain, after the battle, Willimack found this total: four killed outright in the charge, three desperately wounded, and left on the ground, and as many more brought off. Over a dozen wounded in various ways, though not so badly as to disable them, and they had no reason to believe that their enemies had been wounded in the least.
They had already fallen back to the fort, and were taking breath after the struggle. The Dead Chief was coolly arranging the hideous trophies he had taken time to strip from the heads of his enemies, paying no attention to the look of horror upon the face of Madge, who wondered that a man who had fought as gloriously as he had done in beating back the enemy, could think of tearing and mutilating the dead. But, he handled them as coolly as if they had been pieces of paper, shook the blood from them, and thrust them into his belt with a gratified air.
"Wah!" he said. "Why do we wait? Let us charge the enemy and take their scalps."
"Easy, chief, easy," said the Yankee. "Don't rile up so darned quick. I reckin we are safer here than we would be eout thar in the woods. Etarnal Jehosaphat, but didn't we let intew 'em? The critter don't like us a bit, I judge."
"We are able to keep this pass against them," said Will.
"Throw a couple of sticks on that fire," replied Seth. "I reckon yure right, but it looks tew me as ef this pass was going tew keep us. We ain't got pervisions enough tew last half a day."
"I never thought of that. Indeed, we could not stand a siege," replied Will.
"No, cuss the luck. Give me enuff grub, and I'll hold this place alone ag'in' the hull Wyandot nation. But, Lord, I'd give my old moccasins fer a drink of water now."
"Here is my flask. There is about pint of brandy in it."