During the whole of the day the fight was maintained with great vigor. The Indians at one time made an impromptu cannon of a huge log, winding it around with chains from the blacksmith’s shop in the village, loading it with round stones, and directing it against the gate of the fort. It exploded, and killed and wounded several of the besiegers. The next morning, relief came in the shape of forty men, under M’Culloch, from Short Creek, and fourteen more from Cross Creek. The enemy burned the houses around, carried off the cattle, and, bearing their dead, moved away. During the fight, the defenders grew short of powder. There was a keg in Ebenezer Zane’s house about sixty yards away, and this was obtained by the sister of Ebenezer, a young woman, in the way described in the ballad. _BETTY ZANE._ Women are timid, cower and shrink At show of danger, some folk think; But men there are who for their lives Dare not so far asperse their wives. We let that pass—so much is clear, Though little dangers they may fear, When greater perils men environ, Then women show a front of iron; And, gentle in their manner, they Do bold things in a quiet way, And so our wondering praise obtain, As on a time did Betty Zane. A century since, out in the West, A block-house was by Girty pressed— Girty, the renegade, the dread Of all that border, fiercely led Five hundred Wyandots, to gain Plunder and scalp-locks from the slain; And in this hold—Fort Henry then, But Wheeling now—twelve boys and men Guarded with watchful ward and care Women and prattling children there, Against their rude and savage foes, And Betty Zane was one of those. There had been forty-two at first When Girty on the border burst; But most of those who meant to stay And keep the Wyandots at bay, Outside by savage wiles were lured, And ball and tomahawk endured, Till few were left the place to hold, And some were boys and some were old; But all could use the rifle well, And vainly from the Indians fell, On puncheon roof and timber wall, The fitful shower of leaden ball. Now Betty’s brothers and her sire Were with her in this ring of fire, And she was ready, in her way, To aid their labor day by day, In all a quiet maiden might. To mould the bullets for the fight, And, quick to note and so report, Watch every act outside the fort; Or, peering from the loop-holes, see Each phase of savage strategy— These were her tasks, and thus the maid The toil-worn garrison could aid.