I had no idea as to the flight of time, and could not have told whether we had spent ten minutes or sixty in that struggle for life, when, without warning, the floodgates of heaven were opened. The rain came down literally in torrents; it seemed as if the water descended in solid sheets rather than drops, and, no matter how bloodthirsty a man might have been, he could no more have continued the battle than if he had been neck-deep in the river.
Savages as well as white men were forced to cease their efforts to kill, and for a time we crouched beneath such poor shelter as the trees afforded, but drenched to the skin in a twinkling.
General Herkimer was in no better plight than those who were the most exposed. The fire in his pipe was drowned out; but he continued to hold it between his teeth as he said, in a low tone, to Sergeant Corney:
"Pass the word quietly for our people to close in where it will be possible to hear what I say. Thus far I've noted that the savages have watched until a rifle has been discharged, when they rush up and use their hatchets. We can put an end to that kind of butchery."
The old soldier did as he had been bidden, moving to and fro without fear of exposing himself, for the downpour was so great that no man could have loaded a musket with dry powder, and even while the storm continued the circle was contracted until the commander was enclosed by a living hedge.
Then it was that orders were given for the men to take their stations in couples, and, when one had discharged his rifle, the other was to wait until the Indians came up to kill the supposedly defenceless soldier, when a second bullet would be ready for them.
Much to my surprise, I heard General Herkimer say that a full hour had elapsed from the time the first volley had been fired, and it stiffened the courage of all to learn that we had been able to hold the foe in check so long.
Immediately the summer storm had so far sub-sided that the weapons could be loaded, the battle was continued, raging with even more fury than before, as the enemy tried to overwhelm us by a sudden rush, and in a very few seconds the painted fiends came to understand that it was no longer an easy matter to tomahawk a man immediately after he had fired a shot.
When the savages found that their tactics were guarded against, it seemed as if they lost courage, and gradually fell back a little, having had quite as much of Whig marksmanship as was pleasing.
Because we could no longer see as many targets before us, the fire was slackened considerably, and then some one on the outer lines of our defensive circle shouted: