And the scream of a panther told us it was Cousin. He had worked across from the left column, and we were soon beholding his bright jacket in a tangle of logs and stumps.
The men advanced more rapidly, but did not break their line; and it was evident the savages were giving ground in earnest. Our men renewed their cheering and their lusty shouts were answered by the column on the river-bank, still in advance of us.
As it seemed we were about to rush the enemy into a panic we received our second heavy loss of the day. Colonel Field was shot dead. He was standing behind a big tree, reserving his fire for an Indian who had been shouting filthy abuse at him. Poor colonel! It was but a ruse to hold his attention while savages up the slope and behind fallen timber drew a bead on him. Captain Evan Shelby assumed command and ordered the men to keep up the advance.
The Indians gave ground, but with no signs of confusion. Observing our left column was in advance of the right, Cornstalk was attempting to straighten his line by pulling in his left. As we pressed on we discovered the savages were scalping their own dead to prevent their hair falling into our hands. From the rear of the red men came the sound of many tomahawks. Cousin, who for a moment found himself at my side, exulted:
“Curse ’em! Their squaws an’ boys are cuttin’ saplin’s for to carry off their wounded! They’ll need a heap o’ stretchers afore this day is over!”
The sun was now noon-high and the heat was beastly. The battle was at its climax. The left column was near a little pond and about fifty yards from the river, or a fourth of a mile beyond the spot where Lewis was shot. We had evened up this lead, and the battle-line extended from the river and pond to Crooked Creek and half-way down the creek, running from west to east and then southwest.
Cornstalk’s plan was to coop us up in the Point and drive us into the Kanawha and Ohio. There were times when our whole line gave ground, but only to surge ahead again. Thus we seesawed back and forth along a mile and a quarter of battle-line, with the firing equal in intensity from wing to wing. Nor had the Indians lost any of their high spirits. Their retreat was merely a maneuver. They kept shouting:
“We’ll show you how to shoot!”
“Why don’t you come along?”
“Why don’t you whistle now?”