“Had you not better attack?” whispered one of his men. “The Shawnees will soon be awake and will discover our whereabouts.”
“Let us wait another hour or two,” answered the courageous leader. “I believe that the advance of Bowman’s column will soon be here.”
Logan’s men were secreted in ambush. Here they remained until an Indian dog began to bark, arousing his master, who came out of his tepee in order to see what was the matter. An imprudent trapper had exposed his head above the underbrush, and the keen eyes of the redskin quickly discerned an enemy. He raised a loud war-whoop.
As he did this, a gun went off on Bowman’s side of the village, and, seeing that further concealment was useless, Colonel Logan cried out to his men:
“Charge into the village, my boys. You must drive the redskins through the town, for Colonel Bowman will surely support you.”
His buckskin-clad rangers defiled quickly into the village, and, advancing from cabin to cabin, soon had reached a large building in the centre. The Indians fled swiftly before them, but later, recovering from their surprise, endeavored to turn the right flank of the Kentuckians, whom they perceived to be in small numbers. Where was Colonel Bowman?
The Shawnees had now seized their own rifles and were pouring in a hot fire upon the advancing frontiersmen, who tore the heavy doors from the Indian cabins, formed a breastwork, and protected themselves from the whizzing balls. They were holding their own and were making progress towards the Indian citadel, where most of the braves had collected, when an order came from Colonel Bowman to retreat. His ranking officer had spoken, so there was nothing for Logan to do but to obey.
As soon as the men were told that they must go to the rear, a tumultuous scene commenced. Dispirited and disheartened by the order to turn their backs upon the enemy, they rushed away from the tomahawks and balls of the savages, as best they were able. The Indians were astonished and jubilant over the turn which matters had taken and pursued the rangers with wild and exultant yelping. The frontiersmen scattered in every direction, dodging and twisting in order to avoid the balls which whistled around them, and ran from cabin to cabin, in confusion. Suddenly they collided with Bowman’s soldiers, who, because of some panic of their commander, had stood stock still near the spot where Logan had left them the night before. The redskins soon surrounded them on all sides, and kept up a hot fire.
What was the matter with Bowman? He sat upon his horse like a pillar of stone; gave no orders; and was in an apparently helpless mental condition. His men paid no attention to him, but swarmed to the protection of trees and stumps, took aim at the yelping red men, and soon held them at a safe distance. When they seemed to be quieted, the frontiersmen resumed their march. The Indians, however, came back to the attack, but were beaten off. They followed, and made an assault every half mile, or so. Their tenacity was due to the fact that they expected reinforcements and hoped to annihilate the whites.