In two minutes more an aide is to awake the drummer and have him ready by the fire to beat the reveille, when all at once the attack begins. A sentinel, standing on the bank of Burnet's Creek near the northwestern angle of the camp, sees an object crawling on the ground. He fires and runs toward the line--the next moment he is shot down. With demon yells the savages burst upon the ranks of Captain Barton's company and Geiger's riflemen. In an instant the camp is alive and the men spring to arms, but there is no disorder or confusion. In Barton's company a sergeant and two privates are up renewing the fires, and immediately give the alarm. Two savages penetrate the camps but are killed within twenty yards of the line. A corporal in Barton's company is shot as he steps to the door of his tent. Another corporal and a private are killed and a sergeant wounded as the lines are forming, but immediately afterwards a heavy fire is opened and the charging red skins are driven back. The attack on the Kentuckians is particularly ferocious. A hand to hand fight ensues. One of Geiger's men loses his gun and the captain runs to his tent to get him another. He finds some savages there "ransacking its contents, and prodding their knives into everything." One of them attempts to kill the captain with a tomahawk, but is immediately slain. At the first alarm the Governor calls for his white horse, but the shots and yells terrify that animal and he breaks his tether. Harrison now mounts a bay and rides to the first point of attack, Colonel Abraham Owen at his side. Owen is killed, a lock of the Governor's hair is cut away by a bullet, but he brings up Wentworth's company under Lieutenant George P. Peters, and Captain Joel Cook's from the rear line, and forms them across the angle in support of Barton and Geiger. Nothing like this fury has ever been witnessed before. The rattling of dried deer hoofs and the shrieks of the warriors resound on every hand. In a few moments the fire extends along the whole front, both flanks, and a part of the rear line. The fierce Winnebagoes, with tall eagle feathers in their scalp locks, rush upon the bayonets, attempt to push them aside, and cut down the men. It avails them nothing. The iron discipline of the regulars holds them firm. On every hand the soldiers kick out the fires, re-load their guns and settle down to the fight.