A warrior had seized his rein; but Stedman had
struck him down and galloped free for Fort Schlosser. A
drummer-boy, in terror of his life, had leapt over the
cliff. By good fortune his drum-strap caught on the branch
of a dense tree; here he remained suspended until the
Indians left the spot, when he extricated himself. One
of the teamsters also escaped. He was wounded, but managed
to roll into the bushes, and found concealment in the
thick undergrowth. The terrific musketry fire was heard
at the lower landing, where a body of troops of the 60th
and 80th regiments were encamped. The soldiers hastily
armed themselves and in great disorder rushed to the aid
of the convoy. But the Indians were not now at the Devil's
Hole. The murderous work completed there, they had taken
up a position in a thick wood half a mile farther down,
where they silently waited. They had chosen well their
place of concealment; and the soldiers in their excitement
walked into the trap set for them. Suddenly the ominous
war-cries broke out, and before the troops could turn to
face the foe a storm of bullets had swept their left
flank. Then the warriors dashed from their ambush,
tomahawking the living and scalping both dead and dying.
In a few minutes five officers and seventy-six of the
rank and file were killed and eight wounded, and out of
a force of over one hundred men only twenty escaped
unhurt.
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