The herders, woodsmen, and guards who had escaped from their camp in the morning, had reached the fort at last with the news of Powell’s imminent danger. Major Smith, with one hundred men and a howitzer, was at once despatched to his support. No one dreamed that the force of Indians was so great, or perhaps more men would have been sent, although the number at the fort was still insufficient to permit of the detachment of a very large party. It was now three o’clock in the afternoon. The Indians, disheartened and dismayed by their fearful repulse, sullenly retreated before the advance of the charging soldiers. There was a splendid opportunity presented to them to wipe out Smith’s command with their overwhelming force, for they could have attacked him in the open; but they had had enough for that day, and the opportunity was not embraced. Major Smith realized instantly that the proper thing for him to do, in the face of such great odds, was to get Powell’s men and return with all speed. Carrying the bodies of the dead and wounded, the little band of defenders joined the rescuers and returned to the fort, leaving the barren honors of the field to the Indians, Awho occupied it on the heels of the retiring soldiers.[22] IV. After the Battle. The Scout’s Story Powell modestly estimated he had killed sixty-seven Indians and wounded one hundred and twenty. Most of his men declared the Indian loss to have been between three and four hundred, but it was not until a year after the battle that the real facts were ascertained from the Indians themselves. The loss in killed and wounded in the engagement, on the part of the Indians, was _one thousand one hundred and thirty-seven_. In other words, each of the defenders had accounted for at least thirty-six of the Indians. Amply, indeed, had the little band avenged the death of their comrades under Fetterman. As Colonel Dodge justly says, the account reads like a story of Cortes.[23] At first sight it appears to be incredible. In explanation of it, the following account, which Colonel Dodge has preserved of a subsequent conversation between the frontiersman to whom the eight guns were allotted and the department commander is of deep interest:— “How many Indians were in the attack?” asked the General. “Wall, Gin’r’ll, I can’t say fer sartin, but I think thar wur nigh onto three thousand uv ’em.” “How many were killed and wounded?” “Wall, Gin’r’ll, I can’t say fer sartin, but I think thar wur nigh onto a thousand uv ’em hit.” “How many did you kill?” “Wall, Gin’r’ll, I can’t say; but gi’me a dead rest, I kin hit a dollar at fifty yards every time, and I fired with a dead rest at more’n fifty of them varmints inside of fifty yards.” “For Heaven’s sake, how many times did you fire?” exclaimed the astonished General. “Wall, Gin’r’ll, I can’t say, but I kept eight guns pretty well het up for more’n three hours.”