The interchange of shots ahead led those in camp to believe that a general engagement was upon them, whereupon Thomas B. Reed of Eads’ company shot down in cold blood one of the three bearers of the flag of truce, an offense so dastardly as to permit of no excuse. It may be urged that the troops were frenzied by excitement or dazed with the thought that the 800 Indians were coming down upon them like an avalanche, but such was not the case; it was part of the program of “fun” which impelled it. The confusion which followed permitted the two remaining Indians of the party of three to escape and join in the massacre of the whites which followed soon after. Squads of two, three and more continued to leave camp to join the chase, presenting in the twilight a thin and irregular line, without order and without a head, until nearly four miles were covered by these stragglers. As had been adroitly arranged, no doubt, by the survivors of the party of five, the foremost of the pursuers were suddenly plunged into Black Hawk’s presence, behind a growth of chaparral at the mouth of the creek, where this wily old savage had arranged his braves, few in number, but many more than the first white arrivals, and the instant the whites appeared the Indians sent up whoops, shrieks and howls calculated to frighten even a brave man. As the savages dashed headlong into the advance column, or rather squad, of the whites, with the spirit and suddenness of an electric shock, the reckless pursuers realized their awful temerity, and the futility of fighting, even under careful protection and with the full strength of the battalions, what might be the 800 warriors known to belong to Black Hawk’s command. Stunned by the sudden and furious onslaught of Black Hawk, the troops wheeled to retreat, yelling as they fled “Injuns! Injuns!” (like the madmen they now truly became), that their approaching comrades might in turn retreat to safety. In no time at all the cry had reached camp, which became as panic-stricken as the returning troopers.[121] At the foot of the hill on which the five Indians had rested James Doty of Eads’ company was killed, and while many of the horses became mired in the mud of the creek, Gideon Munson, a Government scout, was also slain. As the troops came headlong on, Captain Adams,[122] than whom no braver man ever lived, attempted to make a stand with a handful of companions upon the brow of the hill which lies about half a mile to the south of the creek, to cover the retreat of the fugitives. Darkness was upon them and they had no reason to believe that less than the full force of 800 was upon them, yet they stood their ground to sell their lives as dearly as possible to save those who by the delay might reach points of safety. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration: STILLMAN’S BATTLEFIELD.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration: JOHN E. BRISTOL.]