"Ah, I see it now. Then they have not set their town on fire, and they are not running away. We shall have a battle." The news was quickly passed throughout the army, and eagerness began to show. The men wanted to be led on at once. It was nearly noon, and grass and foliage were dry again. There was not a cloud in the heavens, and the sun was a golden circle in a solid blue dome. "Finest day for a fight I ever saw," said Tom Ross. Paul laughed but it was a nervous laugh, coming from high tension. He was not afraid, but he knew they were going into battle. They passed into the forest and beyond in an open space they saw the houses, wigwams and tepees of Piqua scattered along Mad River. Just before them was a sort of prairie covered with weeds as high as a man's head. Henry threw himself flat upon the ground and peered in among the weeds. "Back! back!" he cried in a tremendous voice. "The warriors are here!" His sharp eyes had caught glimpses of hundreds of forms lying among the weeds. The whole army recoiled, and then a sheet of flame burst from the field, followed by the fierce war whoop of the Indians. The bullets sung in swarms like bees over his head, but knowing that all would fire at once after the Indian custom, he leaped to his feet, and ran to the shelter of the forest before they could reload and deliver the second volley. "Here's a tree, Henry," said Shif'less Sol; "a lot of officers wanted it, but I've saved it for you." But it was good-natured banter. There was not a sign of panic in the army. The men at once formed themselves into line of battle, according to their instructions, and opened a terrible fire upon the weeds in which the warriors lay concealed. Hundreds of bullets swept every part of the cover, and then the cannon sent in round shot and grape, cutting down weeds and warriors together, and driving the savage force in flight to shelter. But Timmendiquas, who had chosen the position, had reckoned well. The field was not only covered with high weeds, but the portion near the town was intersected with deep gullies. The warriors fell back in good order and sought refuge in these gullies which would hold hundreds. Here bullets, cannon balls and grape shot alike passed over their heads, and suffering but little loss, they sent back a storm of their own bullets. The army advanced to the edge of the woods, and was ready to charge across them but Colonel Clark hesitated. Before they could reach the gullies his men might be cut in pieces by a protected foe. The five, Boone, and many other of the best frontiersmen had already sought the shelter of stones or little hillocks, and were firing at every head that appeared above the edge of the gullies. Before the smoke became too dense Henry saw beyond the gullies that Piqua was a large town, larger than they had supposed. It would perhaps be impossible for the army to envelop it. In fact, it was built in the French-Canadian style and ran three miles up and down Mad River.