The Indians were ready for battle, although I had often heard it said they would never stand up in a fair fight, and there came into my mind the fear that Paul and I might have seen only a portion of their force--that possibly we were confronting a large body led by British officers. CHAPTER VII. THE CAPTIVE SCOUT. To you who have read of, and perhaps taken part in, battles between two armies, this encounter on the banks of the Ohio may seem trifling, and devoid of interest, because there is no thrilling account of this gallant charge, or that stubborn holding of a position. Since the day when thirty men under command of Major Clarke confronted an unknown number of Indians on the banks of the Ohio, driving them back in such fashion that there was no longer spirit enough left in them to carry out the murderous plan which they had formed for attacking the defenseless ones on Corn Island--since that day, I say, this country has seen much of warfare, and what was to Paul Sampson and myself like a veritable battle has, even while I write, passed into history as something too insignificant to be worthy of any extended mention. To us lads, however, who stood there in the long, scattered line, knowing that our lives depended upon our own exertions; knowing that the least incautious movement--a single instant wasted when the trigger of a rifle should have been pressed, might mean death, it was an engagement as heavy and important as any that has been waged since the world began, and with good reason, because our own safety hung in the balance. In this world one is prone to give importance to, or detract from, an event in such measure as it concerns himself alone, and, therefore, Paul and I may well be excused for holding high in our memory this conflict which meant everything to those people who on Corn Island awaited our movements before they should begin to build that settlement which has since become known as Louisville. Of it I can tell no more than that which I saw, and I dare venture to say that my experience was the same as that of every other in the line, for no man could give attention save to what lay directly before him. It was in fact nothing more, this battle, than standing behind gum or pine tree, as the case might be, peering intently ahead and on either side for a distance of twenty or thirty paces, hoping to catch a glimpse of a tuft of feathers which would tell where a bullet might be sent with deadly effect, or cowering back whenever a movement of the foliage told that a rifle barrel was being thrust out so that the holder might take deadly aim. Commonplace enough it sounds when set down in words; but if he who chances to read can imagine himself in such a position, his only effort being to save his own life or take that of another, some little idea may be had of the thrilling excitement which overcame me like unto a fever.