to Fort Jefferson, thirty miles in the rear of the action. The enemy pursued five miles.

The following is a copy of a return of the officers killed and wounded in the engagement:

Killed.-1 major general, 1 lieutenant colonel, 4 majors, 11 captains, 10 lieutenants, 9 ensigns, 1 surgeon; total, 37. Wounded.-2 lieutenant colonels, 1 major, 11 captains, 6 lieutenants, 6 ensigns, 1 surgeon; total, 27.

Beside the above there were about five hundred and fifty privates killed, and many more wounded. Few officers of distinction escaped except General St. Clair, who had many narrow escapes; eight balls passed through his clothes. The attack was conducted with astonishing intrepidity on the part of the Indians. In a few moments the general's tent was surrounded: however, he was rescued by a party of regular soldiers, who repelled the enemy with fixed bayonets. There was a party of the Chickasaw nation on their way to join General St. Clair, but did not arrive in season. There was but one fellow only of that nation in the action, who killed and scalped eleven of the enemy with his own hands, and engaging with the twelfth he fell, greatly lamented by the Americans.

Major General Butler was wounded and carried to a convenient place to have his wounds dressed; but an Indian, having discovered the place to which he was conveyed, broke through the troops who attended him, and tomahawked and scalped the former before he was killed by the troops.

Agreeably to the statement of the Indians, they killed six hundred and fifty of the American troops, and took seven pieces of cannon, two hundred oxen, and a great number of horses, but no prisoners; and that their loss was only fiftysix warriors killed. They stated that they were four thousand strong, and were commanded by one of the Missasago In

dians, who had been in the British service in the late war; that he planned and conducted the attack, which was even contrary to the opinion of a majority of the chiefs; and that, after the Americans began their retreat, he told the Indians they had killed enough, and that it was proper to give over the pursuit, and return and enjoy the booty they had taken. He was six feet in height, about forty-five years of age, of a very sour and morose countenance, and apparently very crafty and subtle. His dress was Indian hose and moccasons, a blue petticoat that came half way down his thighs, a European waistcoat and surtout: his head was bound with an Indian cap, that hung half way down his back, and was almost entirely filled with plated silver broaches to the number of more than two hundred. He had two earrings to each ear; the upper part of each was formed of three silver medals about the size of a dollar; the lower part was formed of quarter dollars, and fell more than twelve inches from his ear; one from each ear over his breast, the other over his back. He had three very large nose jewels of silver that were curiously painted.

The party of friendly Chickasaws, who were on their way to join the American troops, arrived at Fort Jefferson two days after the bloody action. They were commanded by Piomingo, or the Mountain Leader. On their way they discovered that the troops had been defeated, but saw but one of the enemy, who, mistaking Piomingo's party for some of his own comrades, made up to them. He perceived his mistake, but too late to retreat. He was accosted by Piomingo with "Rascal, you have been killing white men." He endeavored to exculpate himself; but Piomingo ordered two of his warriors to expand his arms, and a third, an old man, ("for," says Piomingo, "none of my young men shall disgrace themselves so much as to kill a wretch like thee,”) to shoot him through the heart, which was accordingly executed: they afterwards took off his scalp.

During St. Clair's bloody engagement Adjutant Burgess received two wounds, the second of which proved mortal. After the receipt of the first he continued to fight with distinguished gallantry; the second unfortunately stopped his progress. Faint with the loss of blood, he fell a woman, who attended him and was particularly attached to him, raised him up, and, while supporting him in her arms, received a ball in her breast, which put an immediate end to her existence.

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DEPREDATIONS OF THE INDIANS ON THE

FRONTIERS IN 1791, 1792, AND 1793.

ON the 10th of December, 1791, as two men and three boys were fishing on Floyd's fork of Salt River, they were suddenly attacked by a party of Indians, who killed the two men and made prisoners of the boys. Soon after they liberated one of the lads, first presenting him with a tomahawk, which they desired him to carry to his friends and inform them what had become of his companions.

About the 20th a party of Indians attacked the house of a Mr. Chenoweth, situated near the mouth of the Wabash: they killed and scalped two of his children, and tomahawked and scalped his wife, whom they left for dead. Mr. C., who had his arm broken by the fire of the savages, with the remainder of the family made his escape. A sick daughter, who was confined to her chamber, and who, during the bloody affray, had been forgotten by her father, remained ignorant of the horrid massacre until the succeeding day; when, no one of the family coming to her assistance, she succeeded in crawling down stairs, where she was inexpressibly shocked at the sight of a beloved parent stretched upon the floor, almost lifeless, and beside of whom lay the mangled bodies of her dear brothers. Fortunately her unhappy father returned the succeeding day to the house, and conveyed the two surviving members of his family to the house of a friend, where they finally recovered.

On the 24th a party of Indians attacked the dwelling house of a Mr. John Merril, in Nelson county, Kentucky. Mr.

Merril, who was first alarmed by the barking of his dog, hastened to the door to discover the cause, on opening of which he received the fire of the Indians, which broke his right leg and arm. The Indians now attempted to enter the house, but were prevented by the doors being immediately closed and secured by Mrs. Merril and her daughter. The Indians succeeded in hewing away a part of the door, through which passage one of them attempted to enter; but the heroic mother, in the midst of her screaming children and groaning husband, seized an axe and gave the ruffian a fatal blow; after which she hauled him through the passage into the house. The others, unconscious of the fate of their companion, supposing that they had now nearly succeeded in their object, rushed forward, four of whom Mrs. Merril in like manner despatched before the others discovered their mistake. The remaining Indians, after retiring for a few moments, returned and renewed their efforts to enter the house. Despairing of succeeding at the door, they got on the top of the house and attempted to descend the chimney; to prevent which Mr. Merril directed his little son to empty upon the fire the contents of a feather bed, which had the desired effect, as the smoke and heat caused thereby soon brought down rather unexpectedly two of the enemy. Mr. Merril, exerting every faculty at this critical moment, seized a billet of wood, with which he soon despatched the two half-smothered Indians; while in the mean time his heroic wife was busily engaged in defending the door against the efforts of the only remaining one, whom she so severely wounded with an axe that he was soon glad to retire.

A prisoner, who escaped from the enemy soon after the transaction, informed that the wounded savage above mentioned was the only one that escaped of the party, which consisted of eight; that on his return, being asked by the prisoner, "What news?" he answered, "Bad news for poor Indian; me lose a son, me lose a brother: the squaws have taken the breach clout, and fight worse than the Long Knives."