No Indians appeared on that day or the next. Early on Saturday (August 23) the smoke of scattered fires was seen off to the eastward beyond the Minnesota. Had Little Crow captured the fort, and were his warriors burning the farmsteads? To ascertain, Colonel Flandrau sent over a detachment of seventy-five men, which soon encountered a fire from its left front and was obliged to retreat to the eastward to meet reinforcements expected from that quarter. Crow’s real attack came from the northwest, over the terraced plain stretching along the river above the town. Flandrau had left some three hundred and fifty men, ill-armed and undisciplined. When aware of the approach of the Indians, he moved them out and posted them upon the slope of one of the terraces, with a line of skirmishers to the front. At eight o’clock Crow’s warriors in a long line with flanks curved forward moved on in silence till within about a half mile of the line of defenders. Then raising such a shout as only savages can, they broke into a run, firing as they ran. The skirmishers fell back in alarm, and the whole line, spite of the exhortations, polite and other, of Flandrau and his officers, retreated to the barricades. The Sioux did not follow in, but stopped and sought cover in the emptied outer buildings of the town. The fire returned from the barricades discouraged the Sioux from attempting an assault. Late in the afternoon a demonstration was made below the town by a party, some of which wore white men’s clothes. Thus misled, the brave Captain Dodd, second in command, unduly exposed himself and was shot to death. Other weak attempts were made by the persistent Indian leader, which came to naught. Ten of the defenders were killed and fifty wounded. Flandrau estimated the attacking force to be six hundred and fifty in number. Expecting a renewal of the fight on the following morning, Colonel Flandrau ordered the destruction of all buildings outside his fortification. Including those burned by the Indians, one hundred and ninety were destroyed. Indians rarely fight by night; and on Sunday morning they sent in a few long range shots, and the “Battle of New Ulm” was over. Nearly two thousand people had been confined in the narrow fortified space. The women and children had been huddled in the cellars. Food was failing and sickness breaking out. Their homes destroyed, it was resolved to move the whole population to Mankato, thirty miles distant. On Monday morning they took the road; the women, children, and wounded on wheels, the men and boys on foot, escorted by the extemporized army. The column reached its destination late at night, and the refugees met with a generous reception. The next day, August 26, Colonel Flandrau’s force dissolved.