Though in number the combatants were nearly equal, the savages had all the advantage of a superior force fighting under cover. Bouquet's army, like Braddock's, was in the open. With furious cries accompanied by a heavy fire, the Indians attempted to break the iron circle. And they fought with sly cunning. Not waiting to receive the answering attacks, they leaped behind the nearest trees, only to come back to the attack with increased ferocity from another quarter. The English suffered severely while the active Indians, under cover, were almost untouched. Nothing but implicit confidence in Bouquet could have inspired this little army with the steadiness it displayed. No one lost composure. Each man knew they could not retreat or advance--fight they must and fight they surely did. Night came, and under cover of the darkness the wearied soldiers cared for the wounded. Placed in the cleared center of the circle, a rude wall of sacks of flour was built around them. Here, enduring agonies of thirst, for not a drop of water could be obtained, they lay listening to the fiendish yells of the enemy--a poor cure for wounds and burning thirst. When the necessary arrangements for the night had been completed and provision made against a night attack, Bouquet, doubtful of surviving the morrow's battle, wrote to Sir Jeffrey Amherst a brief and concise account of the day's fight. His report ends with these words: "... As, in case of another engagement, I fear insurmountable, difficulties in protecting and transporting our provisions, being already so much weakened by the losses of this day, in men and horses, besides the additional necessity of carrying the wounded, whose situation is truly deplorable." Even before morning light, the beastly, impatient cries of the Indians began to be heard on every side, soon accompanied by a deadly fire. As on the preceding day the return fire had little effect, for the savages silently vanished at the gleam of leveled bayonets. But at ten o'clock the ring remained unbroken though the troops were already fatigued and were now crazed by torments of thirst, "more intolerable than the enemy's fire." The horses, often struck and completely terrified, now broke away by scores and madly galloped up and down the neighboring hills. The ranks were constantly thinning. It was plain to all that a decisive and immediate bold stroke must be made.