one side as Estill’s party descended the other, of two approaching hills of moderate elevation.  The water-course which lay between, had produced an opening in the timber and brush, conducing to mutual discovery, while both hills were well set with trees, interspersed with saplings and bushes.  Instantly after discovering the Indians, some of Captain Estill’s men fired at them; at first they seemed alarmed, and made a movement like flight; but their chief, although wounded, gave them orders to stand and fight—­on which they promptly prepared for battle by each man taking a tree and facing his enemy, as nearly in a line as practicable.  In this position they returned the fire and entered into the battle, which they considered as inevitable, with all the fortitude and animation of individual and concerted bravery, so remarkable in this particular tribe.

In the mean time, Captain Estill, with due attention to what was passing on the opposite side, checked the progress of his men at about sixty yards distance from the foe, and gave orders to extend their lines in front of the Indians, to cover themselves by means of the trees, and to fire as the object should be seen—­with a sure aim.  This order, perfectly adapted to the occasion, was executed with alacrity, as far as circumstances would admit, and the desultory mode of Indian fighting was thought to require.  So that both sides were preparing and ready at the same time for the bloody conflict which ensued, and which proved to be singularly obstinate.

The numbers were equal; some have said, exactly twenty-five on each side.  Others have mentioned that Captain Estill, upon seeing the Indians form for battle, dispatched one or two of his men upon the back trail to hasten forward a small reinforcement, which he supposed was following him; and if so, it gave the Indians the superiority of numbers without producing the desired assistance, for the reinforcement never arrived.

Now were the hostile lines within rifle-shot, and the action became warm and general to their extent.  Never was battle more like single combat since the use of fire-arms; each man sought his man, and fired only when he saw his mark; wounds and death were inflicted on either side—­neither advancing nor retreating.  The firing was deliberate; with caution they looked, but look they would, for the foe, although life itself was often the forfeit.  And thus both sides firmly stood, or bravely fell, for more than an hour; upward of one-fourth of the combatants had fallen, never more to rise, on either side, and several others were wounded.  Never, probably, was the native bravery or collected fortitude of men put to a test more severe.  In the clangor of an ardent battle, when death is forgotten, it is nothing for the brave to die—­when even cowards die like brave men—­but in the cool and lingering expectation of death, none but the man of the true courage can stand.  Such were those engaged in this conflict.  Never was