became evident that the ardor of the men was considerably cooled.

On the eleventh day of their march, they reached the spot where the town of Sandusky had formerly stood, but from which the Indians had lately removed, to a spot about eighteen miles below. Here the detachment halted, and here the insubordinate spirit of the army first displayed itself. They insisted upon returning home, alledging the tired condition of their horses, and the fact that their provisions were likely to be soon exhausted. The officers, yielding to the wishes of their constituents, (for the troops had elected their own officers,) determined in council, that they would continue their march one day longer, and if no Indians appeared, they would then return home! What other results than these which we are now about to record, could have been anticipated from such officers and such men? Just as the council broke up, a single light-horseman, belonging to the advanced guard, rode in at a gallop, announcing that a large body of Indians were formed in an open wood, a few miles in advance, and seemed determined to arrest the further progress of the invaders. Instant preparations were made for battle. The troops, notwithstanding their previous murmurs, advanced with alacrity, and soon came up with the light-horsemen, who were slowly retiring, within view of the enemy. The country was generally open, and well adapted to the operations of cavalry. Here and there a thin copse of woodland appeared, free from undergrowth and giving to each party a full view of their enemy's movements. The Indians had partially obtained possession of one of these copses, although their full force had not yet come up.

The importance of seizing the wood was instantly seen, and Crawford hastily ordered his men to dismount, tie their horses, and force the enemy from their position before their reinforcements could arrive. This judicious order was promptly and

effectually obeyed. Both flanks of the Indian position were immediately turned, and a rapid and threatening movement upon their front, quickly compelled them to give way. Crawford now took possession of the wood, but scarcely had he done so, when the main body of the enemy hurried up to the assistance of their van, and, out-flanking Crawford, in turn opened a heavy and galling fire upon his men, from which they found it very difficult to obtain shelter.

The action now became sharp and serious; Crawford maintaining his ground, and the enemy, (who were hourly increasing in number,) making the most strenuous efforts to regain the wood. From four in the evening until dusk, the firing was very heavy, and the loss considerable. During the whole of this time scarcely an Indian was visible, unless for a moment when shifting his position. Their number could only be ascertained from the many wreaths of smoke which arose from every bush, tree, or tuft of grass within view. At night the enemy drew off, and Crawford's party slept upon their arms upon the field of battle. On the next day the attack was renewed, but at more respectful distance. The Indians had apparently sustained some loss on the close firing of the preceding evening, and seemed now determined to await the arrival of additional reinforcements. Occasional shots were fired through the day, on both sides, but without much injury. to either. As soon as it was dark, the field officers assembled in council; and, as the numbers of the enemy were evidently increasing every moment, it was unanimously determined to retreat by night, as rapidly as was consistent with order and preservation of the wounded. The resolution was quickly announced to the troops, and the necessary dispositions made for carrying it into effect. The out-posts were silently withdrawn from the vicinity of the enemy, and as fast as they came in, the troops were formed in three parallel lines, with the

wounded borne upon biers in the centre. By nine o'clock at night, all necessary arrangements had been made, and the retreat began in good order.

Unfortunately, they had scarcely moved a hundred paces, when the report of several rifles were heard in the rear, in the direction of the Indian encampment. The troops soon became very unsteady. At length, a solitary voice, in the front rank, called out that their design was discovered and that the Indians would soon be upon them. Nothing more was necessary. The cavalry were instantly broken; and, as usual, each man endeavored to save himself as best he could. A prodigious uproar ensued, which quickly communicated to the enemy that the white men had routed themselves and that they had nothing to do but pick up stragglers. The miserable wounded, notwithstanding the piercing cries with which they supplicated to be taken with them, were abandoned to the mercy of the enemy, and soon put out of pain.

Dr. Knight, the surgeon of the detachment, was in the rear when the fight commenced, but seeing the necessity of dispatch, he put spurs to his horse and galloped through the woods as fast as the darkness of the night would permit. He had not advanced three hundred yards, when he heard the voice of Colonel Crawford, a short distance in front, calling aloud for his son, John Crawford, his son-in-law, Major Harrison, and his two nephews, Major Rose and William Crawford. Dr. Knight replied, in the same loud tone, that he believed the young men were in front. "Is that you, Doctor?" asked Crawford, eagerly; for no features could be recognized in the darkness. "Yes, Colonel; I am the hindmost man, I believe." "No, no!" replied Crawford, anxiously; "my son is in the rear yet: I have not been able to hear of him in front! Do not leave me, Doctor; my horse has almost given out; I can.

not keep up with the troops, and I wish a few of my best friends to stay with me!"

Knight assured him that he might rely upon his support in any extremity, and drew up his horse by his side. Colonel Crawford still remained upon the same spot, calling loudly for his son, until the last straggler had passed. He then, in strong language, reprobated the conduct of the militia, in breaking their ranks and abandoning the wounded, but quickly returned to the subject of his son, and appeared deeply agitated at the uncertainty of his fate. Perceiving, however, that further delay must terminate in death or captivity, the party set spurs to their horses and followed the route of the troops. Presently an old man and a lad joined them. Crawford eagerly asked if they had seen his son or nephews? They assured him that they had not; upon which he sighed deeply, but made no reply.

At this instant, a heavy fire was heard at the distance of a mile in front, accompanied by yells, screams, and all the usual attendants of battle. Not a doubt was entertained but that the Indians had intercepted the retreat of the main body, and were now engaged with them. Having lost all confidence in his men, Crawford did not choose to unite his fortune to theirs, and changed his course to the northward, in such a manner as to leave the combatants upon the right. He continued in this direction for nearly an hour, until he supposed himself out of the immediate line of the enemy's operations, when he again changed his course to the eastward, moving as rapidly as possible, with an interval of twenty paces between them, and steadily regulating their route by the north star. The boy who accompanied them was brisk and active, but the old man constantly lagged behind, and as constantly shouted aloud for them to wait for him.. They often remonstrated with him upon the impropriety of making so much noise, at a time when all

their lives depended upon secrecy and celerity; and he repeatedly promised to do so no more.

At length, upon crossing Sandusky creek, the old man found himself once more considerably in the rear, and once more shouted aloud for them to wait, until he could come up. Before they could reply, a halloo was heard in the rear of their left, and apparently not more than one hundred paces from the spot where the old man stood. Supposing it to be the cry of an Indian, they remained still and silent for several minutes, looking keenly around them in the expectation of beholding an enemy. Every thing, however, remained silent. The old man was heard no more, and whether he escaped, or was killed, could never be ascertained. The party continued their flight until day-break, when Colonel Crawford's horse and that of the boy, sunk under their riders and were abandoned.

Continuing their journey on foot, they quickly fell in with Captain Biggs, an expert woodman and gallant officer, who, in the universal scattering, had generously brought off a wounded officer, Lieutenant Ashley, upon his own horse, and was now composedly walking by his side, with a rifle in his hand and a knapsack upon his shoulders. This casual meeting was gratifying to both parties, and they continued their journey with renewed spirits. At three o'clock in the afternoon, a heavy fall of rain compelled them to encamp. A temporary shelter was quickly formed by barking several trees, after the manner of the Indians, and spreading the bark over poles so as to form a roof. A fire was then kindled, and the rain continued to pour down in torrents. They remained here through the night without any accident.

Continuing their route on the following morning, at the distance of three miles from the camp, they found a deer, which had recently been killed and skinned. The meat was neatly sliced and bundled up in the skin, and a tomahawk lay near