As he fired, Girty fell, and perceiving this, the Indians, with a yell of despair, instantly gathered round him, while the man effected his escape. This closed the exciting contest of the cornfield--which had been witnessed throughout from the station with feelings better imagined than described--but, unfortunately for humanity, did not end the career of Girty; for the ball had taken effect in his shot pouch instead of his body; and though wounded, his case was in no wise critical; and he was soon able to take his place at the council fire, to deliberate upon what further should be done.[22] The council alluded to, lasted some two or three hours. The Indians were disheartened at their loss in the morning, and the failure of all their stratagems, even to cutting off the reinforcements of the enemy. They were sufficiently convinced they could not carry the fort by storm; and they also believed it unsafe to longer remain where they were; as the alarm of their presence had spread far and wide, and there was no telling at what moment a force equal to their own might be brought against them; therefore, they were now anxious to abandon the siege and return home. Girty, however, was by no means satisfied with the turn matters had taken. He had with great difficulty and masterly persuasion succeeded in getting them to unite and march in a body (contrary to their usual mode of warfare, which consisted in skirmishing with small parties,) against the whites; and he now felt that his reputation was in a manner staked on the issue; consequently he could illy bear to leave without the trial of one more stratagem. This he made known to the chiefs of the council, and offered, in case of failure, to retreat with them at once. As this last design of Girty was merely to deceive the whites, and frighten them into capitulation, without any further risk to themselves, the Indians agreed to it, and the council broke up. It was nearly sundown; and every one in the station had been on the alert, ready to repel another attack should the Indians renew hostilities, as was not unlikely, when a voice cried out: "Hang me to the nearest cross-bar, ef the red sons of Satan hav'nt sent out a flag of truce!" This at once drew the attention of most of the garrison to a small white flag on a temporary pole, which at no great distance was gradually nearing them, supported in an upright position by some object crawling along on the ground. At length the object gained a stump; and having mounted it, was at once recognized by Reynolds as the renegade--although Girty on this expedition had doffed the British uniform, in which we once described him, and now appeared in a costume not unlike his swarthy companions. "Halloo the garrison!" he shouted. "Halloo yourself!--what's wanted?" cried a voice back again.