All that Slough and Oldham suspected was true and more. All night long the Indians crept around the army, ready for an attack at sunrise. The army began stirring at an early hour; some there were, it is sure, who anxiously awaited the dawn. The troops paraded under arms, as usual, before sunrise. Ranks had just been broken when a scattering fire was heard in the militia camp, and soon the Indian yell. The militia stood a moment and then fell back to the river, crossed it, and were upon Major Butler's and Clark's battalions, throwing the latter into a confusion that was never remedied despite the energy of those officers. The Indians were upon the heels of the militia, but were repulsed by the fire of the first line. With well-timed accuracy the Indians charged the opposite side of the square, where, too, they were at first repulsed. The American army was now practically surrounded--the savages lying hidden in the brush, forests, and high grass on the low ground which surrounded the promontory on three sides and in front. The artillery was placed at the center of the two sides of the square and here the battle raged most fiercely. For some time, it would seem, the honors of the conflict were evenly divided. But from the position of the two armies it can readily be seen that the American fire was not so effective as that of the savages whose firmness and audacity was unparalleled. From their concealed position it required little marksmanship to pick men off rapidly on the high ground just beyond and hidden only by a low-lying cloud of smoke from their own guns. The officers, hurrying back and forth, offered conspicuous targets. From St. Clair (who had to be assisted to mount his horse) down, the officers were brave and efficient. As St. Clair passed down one line, Butler passed up the other. They never met, though St. Clair frequently asked for Butler as the battle wore away.