“The main camp was pitched in a level wood by a small stream which was one of the branches of the Wabash River; on higher ground about a quarter of a mile across this stream, the militia and a company of rangers had been on duty through the latter part of the night and were prepared for an attack by Indians whom we knew to be in front of us. We supposed them to be a mere scouting party sent out to gather information about our movements. We did not think that they planned anything more serious than to pick off some of our number and to get a few scalps if they could do so without serious risk. Certain it is, we were not prepared for what took place. “In the gray of the morning, before objects had become distinct at any considerable distance, I was standing near one of the fires conversing with a comrade. Suddenly I saw twenty or thirty painted savages dodging around among the trees in front of us, as if they planned to attack by surprise. Supposing the ones I saw to be the entire party, and thinking it a good chance to bring down one of them and at the same time to alarm the camp, I instantly raised my rifle to my eye, took a quick aim, and dropped the nearest Indian. The smoke had not cleared away from my rifle when a terrific volley was poured in upon us. It was accompanied by appalling yells from a thousand throats. At the same instant I saw Indians springing from behind their covers and rushing down upon us in overwhelming numbers. Instantly, I turned to fly and stumbled over the dead body of the comrade with whom I had been conversing. He had been shot through the temples, and he was the first dead man I saw on that fatal day. “As we fell back, the militiamen behind us discharged their pieces at the approaching savages; then they turned and fled in the wildest alarm through the little hollow back toward the main camp. Many of them never reached it, for by this time the Indians were firing rapidly from all sides and were following up the advantage with their murderous tomahawks and scalping knives. All the while, they were screeching with such appalling effect that I believe some of our men, who might otherwise have escaped, became bewildered, stupefied, and lost. “As for myself, I had some very narrow escapes. Although I was a pretty good runner, I had been singled out by an ambitious young warrior, who, in a race of about two hundred yards, had almost caught up with me. With a good reach of his arm, he might have sunk his tomahawk in the back of my head. A glance over my shoulder showed him about to strike, and instinctively I threw myself down to avoid the blow. As fortune would have it, he struck his foot against one of mine and pitched headlong over me. His weapon flew from his grasp. Before he could recover himself, I was upon him, driving my hunting knife through his throat and severing his jugular vein.