THE ATTACK.
White Buffalo and Natah Otann had drawn up their strategic arrangements with remarkable skill. The two Chiefs had scarce formed their camp in the clearing, ere they assembled the Sachems of the other tribes camped not far from them, in order to combine their movement, so as to attack the Americans simultaneously from all points.
Though the Redskins are excessively cunning, the Americans had succeeded in thoroughly deceiving them, in the gloom and silence that prevailed through the fort, for not a single bayonet could be seen glistening behind its parapets. Leaving their horses concealed in the forest, the Indians lay down on the ground, and, crawling through the tall grass like reptiles, began crossing the space that separated them from the ramparts.
All was still apparently gloomy and silent, and yet two thousand intrepid warriors were crawling up in the shadow to attack a fortress behind which forty resolute men only waited for the signal to be given, and commence the attack. When all the orders had been given, and the last warriors had quitted the hill, Natah Otann, whose perspicuous eye had discovered a certain hesitation of evil omen in the minds of the allied chiefs, resolved to make that final appeal to the Count to secure his co-operation. We have already seen the result. When left alone, Natah Otann gave the signal for attack; the Indians rushed like a hurricane down the sides of the hill, and ran towards the fort, brandishing their arms, and uttering their war yell. Suddenly a heavy discharge was heard, and Fort Mackenzie was begirt with smoke and dazzling flashes. The battle had commenced.
The plain was invaded, as far as eye could trace, by powerful detachments of Indian warriors, who, converging on one point, marched resolutely toward the fort, incessantly discharging their bullets at it; while new bands could be seen constantly arriving from the place where the chain of hills abuts on the Missouri. They came up at a gallop, in parties of from three to twenty men; their horses were covered with foam, which led to the presumption that they had come a long distance. The Blackfeet were in their war attire, loaded with all sorts of ornaments and arms, with bow and quiver on their backs, and musket in hand, while their heads were crowned with feathers, some of which were the magnificent black and white eagle plumes. They were seated on handsome saddle cloths of panther skin, lined with red; the upper part of the body was naked, with the exception of a long strip of wolf skin passing over the shoulder as a cross belt, while their bucklers were adorned with feathers and cloth of various colours.
These men, thus accoutred, had something imposing and majestic about them, which affected the imagination, and inspired terror.
The struggle seemed most obstinate in the environs of the fort, and on the hill. The Blackfeet, sheltered by tall palisades planted during the night, replied to the Americans' fire with an equally rapid fire, exciting each other, with wild cries, courageously to resist the attack of their implacable foes. The defence was, however, as vigorous as the assault, and the combat did not appear destined to terminate so soon. Already many corpses lay on the ground, startled horses galloped in every direction, and the shrieks of the wounded mingled at intervals with the defiant shouts of the assailants.
Natah Otann, so soon as the signal had been given, ran off to the tent where his prisoner was.
"The moment has arrived," he said to him.
"I am ready," the Count answered, "go on. I will keep constantly at your side."