St. Clair and Wayne 67 



There never was a wilder rout. As soon as the 

 men began to run, and realized that in flight there 

 lay some hope of safety, they broke into a stampede 

 which soon became uncontrollable. Horses, soldiers, 

 and the few camp followers and women who had 

 accompanied the army were all mixed together. 

 Neither command nor example had the slightest 

 weight; the men were abandoned to the terrible 

 selfishness of utter fear. They threw away their 

 weapons as they ran. They thought of nothing but 

 escape, and fled in a huddle, the stronger and the few 

 who had horses trampling their way to the front 

 through the old, the weak, and the wounded; while 

 behind them raged the Indian tomahawk. Fortu- 

 nately the attraction of plundering the camp was so 

 overpowering that the savages only followed the 

 army about four miles; otherwise hardly a man 

 would have escaped. 



St. Clair was himself in much danger, for he 

 tried to stay behind and stem the torrent of fugi- 

 tives; but he failed, being swept forward by the 

 crowd, and when he attempted to ride to the front 

 to rally them, he failed again, for his horse could 

 not be pricked out of a walk. The packer, Van 

 Cleve, in his journal, gives a picture of the flight. 

 He was himself one of the few who lost neither 

 courage nor generosity in the rout. 



Among his fellow packers were his uncle and a 

 young man named Bonham, who was his close and 

 dear friend. The uncle was shot in the wrist, the 

 ball lodging near his shoulder; but he escaped. 



