On the night of June 15th the troops were snugly ensconced in the various buildings, after sentinels had been picketed about eighty yards out, at different points of the compass around the camp. The night was cloudy and dark, though intermittently illuminated with flashes of lightning, rendering possible a sight of the surroundings during those periods. Near midnight the presence of the enemy was detected by a sentinel, who in the instantaneous period allowed him, attempted to run the Indian he discovered through with his bayonet, so close had he crawled; but the flash of light was so brief that the sentinel missed his mark and only rubbed the Indian’s arm. Dropping his gun, the sentinel clinched with his adversary and by reason of superior strength was rapidly mastering him and would soon have had him a prisoner, but for another flash which discovered two other Indians within twenty feet, making for the rescue as rapidly as the inpenetrable darkness would permit. Quickly releasing his antagonist, the sentinel ran to camp, shouting: “Indians, Indians,” while the Indians pursued him as far as they dared. With a shot into the darkness they turned and fled, leaving the men in camp to lie upon their arms after that until morning. From the fact that one horse was stolen during the night, color was given to the theory that plunder was the sole aim of the enemy’s presence, but events of the following day exploded it. Early in the morning Captain Snyder took a detachment of his men and pursued the enemy’s trail in a southwesterly direction, hoping to overtake and punish him before escape was possible. For twenty miles it was followed in vain, but Captain Snyder would not permit it to be abandoned, and wise indeed was his decision, for after a few rods more of travel the detachment came upon four of the Indians preparing a meal in a deep ravine just ahead. Flight by them in a circuitous, back-track manner was instantly taken, which nearly baffled the troops, but after another weary but exciting chase the Indians were again discovered half a mile ahead climbing a high hill within three miles of camp at Kellogg’s Grove. The troops were delayed in their pursuit by a deep and muddy creek, but on finally crossing it discovered the Indians firmly intrenched in a deep gulch, where, in a sharp hand to hand encounter, all four were killed, with loss to the whites of one man, private William B. Mecomson (or Mekemson), who received two balls in the abdomen, inflicting a mortal wound. While the engagement lasted it was as fierce and wicked a frontier fight as has ever been recorded, and in the many shots exchanged by the Indians the marvel is that the loss to the whites was no greater; but poor Mecomson received the only effective ones.