maneuvering more necessary or less practicable.  Captain Estill had not a man to spare from his line, and deemed unsafe any movement in front with a view to force the enemy from their ground, because in such a movement he must expose his men, and some of them would inevitably fall before they could reach the adversary.  This would increase the relative superiority of the enemy, while they would receive the survivors with tomahawk in hand, in the use of which they were practiced and expert.  He clearly perceived that no advantage was to be gained over the Indians while the action was continued in their own mode of warfare.  For although his men were probably the best shooters, the Indians were undoubtedly the most expert hiders; that victory itself, could it have been purchased with the loss of his last man, would afford but a melancholy consolation for the loss of friends and comrades; but even of victory, without some maneuvre, he could not assure himself.  His situation was critical; his fate seemed suspended upon the events of the minute; the most prompt expedient was demanded.  He cast his eyes over the scene; the creek was before him, and seemed to oppose a charge on the enemy—­retreat he could not.  On the one hand he observed a valley running from the creek toward the rear of the enemy’s line, and immediately combining this circumstance with the urgency of his situation, rendered the more apparently hazardous by an attempt of the Indians to extend their line and take his in flank, he determined to detach six of his men by this valley to gain the flank or rear of the enemy; while himself, with the residue, maintained his position in front.

The detachment was accordingly made under the command of Lieutenant Miller, to whom the route was shown and the order given, conformably to the above-mentioned determination; unfortunately, however, it was not executed.  The lieutenant, either mistaking his way or intentionally betraying his duty, his honor, and his captain, did not proceed with the requisite dispatch; and the Indians, attentive to occurrences, finding out the weakened condition of their adversaries, rushed upon them and compelled a retreat, after Captain Estill and eight of his men were killed.  Four others were badly wounded, who, notwithstanding, made their escape; so that only nine fell into the bands of the savages, who scalped and stripped them, of course.

It was believed by the survivors of this action that one half of the Indians were killed; and this idea was corroborated by reports from their towns.

There is also a tradition that Miller, with his detachment, crossed the creek, fell in with the enemy, lost one or two of his men, and had a third or fourth wounded before he retreated.

The battle lasted two hours, and the Indian chief was himself killed immediately after he had slain Captain Estill; at least it is so stated in one account we have seen.  This action had a very depressing effect upon the spirits of the Kentuckians.  Yet its results to the victors were enough to make them say, with Pyrrhus, “A few more such victories, and we shall be undone.”  It is very certain that the Indians would not have been willing to gain many such victories, even to accomplish their darling object—­the expulsion of the whites from Kentucky.