The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1917-02-01

With the flies shrill music III their
ears, the Yellow Jackets held their
ground, though MacMahan. who took
Spencer's place, fell dead, and Berry,
his second lieutenant, fell also; held
| it for two hours in the face of the
| frenzied attack of the Indians.
The men with the filters were very
| busy: not only here but back at the
northwest angle, where the first attack
| had been made. At the opposite angle
10 Daviess was still chatting with i'm
patience. From behind a log, sew
enty yards away, dozen Indian
! Sharpshooters were pouring a wicked
fire into the mass of tethered horses
| of the three squadrons of dragons
Parke's, Funk's and Beggs' companies.
Twice Daviess had sent to Harrison
| for permission to charge and dislodge
| them. The stripping Croghan carried
his third request. Presently Croghan
came back on the run. He was wild
with delight.
"Tell Major Daviess," Harrison had
| said, "that he has heard my opinion
twice; he may now use his own dis
cretion."
Sod be praised" calculated Da-
viess. Hastily he called for twenty
volunteers. Quickly they threw them
selves in the saddle. David saw them
dash across the little space between
the line and the log where the Indians
were hidden and saw the spurts OF
red flame run along the top of the log.
For every flash Of fire a trooper reeled
| in his saddle; at the front rode Da-
viess, the idol of the backwoodSmen.
AS the red warriors began to break
and scatter from behind the log, the
| last of their rifles rang out together,
and the Kentuckian rose in his STIR
rups, clutched at his breast, and
pitched headlOng.
AS he saw Daviess fall, David drew
deep breath and began to run across
| the wet and slippery grass that lay
between the camp and the ambuscad-
ing woods beyond. The bullets ripped
viciously through the dripping weeds
and tore into the frozen ground at
his feet. He heard shouts of warn
ing, like voices in a dream, behind
him !; but he paid no heed and reached
| the Kentuckian's side unhurt. He
| placed his hand under DavieSs' Shout
derS and the dead weight sickened
him. Three men from ParkeS COM
pany ran out and joined him as he
strOve to lift the body; with a des-
perate heave they raised up the dying
man and staggered back toward the
| line of riflemen.
The men of Parke's and Beggs' dra-
goons began to cheer as the four men
laid their unconscious burden down in
safety, and the exultant yellS spread
| like fire from end to end of the little
plateau; for DaviesS had been struck
at the very moment when the attack
of the savages had ceased, and from
group to group of powder-grimed and
bloodstained riflemen ran the shouts
| of victory.
The sky had scarcely lightened. The
trees still dripped with rain. They
had been fighting less than four hours /;
| and the batfled Prophet. his incanta-
tons futile, his power shattered, was
| flying through the woods. A hundred
of his braves lay upon the sodden
| field; the rest had faded away like the
mist that drifted through the forest.
All day the men rested, caring for
the wounded, burying the dead, repair
ing their rifles. All day Daviess lay
| hn frAn ~
placed him, his life slowly ebbing out (;
and when at last his eyes closed, they
buried him by the side of Thomas
Randolph, the Virginian, his friend.
| The battle was won; and, although
they did not know it then, this hand
empire. Men threw themselves on the
ground, the dreadful tension relaxed /;
young John Upton scrawled in his
daily journal; but David could not
rest.
In the night that followed he wrest-
ell in agony with his fear for Toinette.
At dawn they were to attack the
Prophets village. Would she be
found there, living or dead? He could
not shut from his eyes the picture of
what dreadful signs might be found
in the tents-a torn robe, tress of
bloOd-stained hair, even her body-he
shuddered and the cold sweat stood
upon his forehead. At last dawn came
and the men were once more I'M
leashed.