The remaining three hundred and fifty—under command of Colonel Boswell—after repeated trials and failures, finally effected a landing upon the right bank, at a point near the western end of the fortification. General Harrison sent a sortie to their aid; and the combined force repulsed the Indians and Canadian militia, and marched in triumph to the fort. A short time afterward the commander sent another sortie against the batteries southeast of the garrison. A stubborn engagement took place. The sturdy Americans, though greatly outnumbered, drove the British from their position, spiked several of their cannon, and, taking a number of prisoners, made a safe retreat. Fighting had commenced on all sides of the beleaguered fortification. A ring of flame had encircled the place; the Stars and Stripes had received a fresh baptism of blood. Now the smoke of battle lifted; and the brave men within the walls turned their attention to their brethren on the opposite side of the river. General Harrison, glass in hand, was anxiously scanning the distant shore. Suddenly, he dropped his hand to his side and groaned: “My God! They are lost—lost! They’ve captured the batteries, but are allowing themselves to be lured into an ambuscade. Their impetuosity will be their undoing!” Let us follow Colonel Dudley. Without difficulty, he landed upon the northern bank of the river, a mile above the British batteries. Gallantly his men charged the English artillerists and drove them from their guns. Had they been content with spiking the cannon and returning to their boats, all would have been well. But the Indians in the adjacent woods were pouring a galling fire into the American ranks. This the dare-devil Kentuckians could not stand. With lusty cheers, they charged the savages and drove them pell-mell into the depths of the forest. Colonel Dudley feared an ambuscade, and sought to restrain the ardor of his troops, but in vain. The reckless militiamen continued the chase, pushing farther and farther into the tangled woodland. Presently the wily redmen rallied and essayed to outflank their pursuers. A pitched battle took place. The rattle of firearms became a deafening roar; the dense smoke obscured friend and foe. Colonel Dudley ordered a charge along the whole line. It availed nothing; the Indians could not be dislodged. Next came the order to retreat to the boats. This the Kentuckians were ready to do. They had suffered severely—they realized their mistake. Foot by foot, they began a retreat toward the shore, fighting every step of the way.