BATTLE OF TOHOPEKA.

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river wrapped itself in the form of a horse-shoe, from whence it derived its name. Across the neck leading to this open plain, the Indians had erected a breastwork of logs, seven or eight feet high, and pierced it with a double row of port-holes. Behind it, the ground rose into an elevation; while still farther back, along the shore, lay the village, in which were the women and children. Early in the morning of the 25th, Jackson ordered General Coffee to take the mounted riflemen together with the friendly Indians and cross the river at a ford below, and stretch around the bend, on the opposite bank from the village, so as to prevent the fugitives from escaping. He then advanced in front, and took up his position, and opened on the breastwork with his light artillery. The cannonade was kept up for two hours without producing any effect. In the mean time, the friendly Indians attached to General Coffee's command had swam the river and loosened a large number of canoes, which they brought back. Captain Russell's company of spies immediately leaped into them, and, with the friendly Indians, crossed over and set the village on fire, and with loud shouts pressed towards the rear of the encampment. The Indians returned the shout of defiance, and, with a courage and steadiness they seldom exhibited, repelled every effort to advance.

The troops under Jackson heard the din of the

conflict within, and clamored loudly to be led to the assault. He, however, held them back, and stood and listened. Discovering, at length, by the incessant firing in a single place, that the Americans were making no progress, he ordered the drums to beat the charge. A loud and thrilling shout rolled along the American line, and, with levelled bayonets, the excited ranks precipitated themselves on the breastwork. A withering fire received them, the rifle balls sweeping like a sudden gust of sleet, in their very faces. Not an Indian flinched, and many were pierced through the port-holes; while, in several instances, the enemy's bullets were welded to the American bayonets. The swarthy warriors looked grimly through the openings, as though impervious to death.

This, however, was of short duration, and soon the breastwork was black with men, as they streamed up the sides. Major Montgomery was the first who planted his foot on the top, but he had scarcely waved his sword in triumph above his head, when he fell back upon his companions, dead. A cry of vengeance swelled up from his followers, and the next moment the troops rolled like a sudden inundation over the barrier. It then became a handto-hand fight. The Indians refused to yield, and with gleaming knives and tomahawks, and clubbed rifles and muskets, closed in a death grapple with their foes. Civilization gave the bold frontiersmen

no advantage here-it was a personal struggle with his swarthy rival for the mastery, where they both claimed the right of possession. The wild yell of the savage blended in with the stern curse of the AngloSaxon, while high and shrill over the clangor and clash of arms, arose the shouts of the prophets, as dancing frantically around their blazing dwellings, they continued their strange incantations, still crying victory.

At length one was shot in the mouth, as if to give the lie to his declarations. Pressed in front and rear, many at last turned and fled. But the unerring rifle dropped them along the shore; while those who endeavored to save themselves by swimming, sunk in mid-stream under the deadly fire of Coffee's mounted men. The greater part, however, fought and fell, face to face, with their foes. It was a long and desperate struggle; not a soul asked for quarter, but turned, with a last look of hate and defiance, on his conqueror. As the ranks grew thin, it ceased to be a fight, and became a butchery. Driven at last from the breastwork, the few surviving warriors took refuge in the brush and timber on the hill. Wishing to spare their lives, Jackson sent an interpreter to them, offering them pardon; but they proudly refused it, and fired on the messenger. He then turned his cannon on the spot, but failing to dislodge them, ordered the grass and brush to be

fired. Driven out by the flames, they ran for the river, but most of them fell before they reached the water. On every side the crack of the rifle told. how many eyes were on the fugitives. Darkness at last closed the scene, and still night, broken only by the cries of the wounded, fell on the forest and river. Nearly eight hundred of the Indians had fallen, five hundred and fifty-seven of whom lay stark and stiff around and in that encampment. The loss of the Americans, in killed and wounded, was about two hundred.*

The tired soldier slept on the field of slaughter, around the smouldering fires of the Indian dwellings. The next morning they sunk the dead bodies of their companions in the river, to save them from the scalping-knives of the savages, and then took up their backward march to Fort William.

battle, which presented in natures of Jackson. An

* An incident occurred after the striking contrast the two opposite Indian warrior, severely wounded, was brought to him, whom he placed at once in the hands of the surgeon. While under the operation, the bold, athletic warrior looked up, and asked Jackson in broken English, "Cure 'im, kill 'im again?" The latter replied, "No; on the contrary, he should be well taken care of." He recovered, and Jackson pleased with his noble bearing, sent him to his own house in Tennessee, and afterwards had him taught a trade in Nashville, where he eventually married and settled down in business. When that terrible ferocity, which took entire possession of this strange, indomitable man in battle, subsided away, the most gentle and tender emotions usurped its place. The tiger and the lamb united in his single person.

THE CREEK WAR ENDED.

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The original design of having the three armies from Tennessee, Georgia, and Mississippi, meet in the centre of the Creek nation, and thus crush it with. one united effort, had never been carried out, and Jackson now resolved alone to overrun and subdue the country. Issuing a noble address to his troops, he, on the 7th of April, set out for the Indian village of Hoithlowalle. But he met with no opposition; the battle of Tohopeka had completely prostrated the tribe, and the war was virtually at an end. He, however, scoured the country, the Indians everywhere fleeing before the terror of his name. On his march, he sent orders to Colonel Milton, who, with a strong force, was also advancing into the Creek country, to send him provisions. The latter returned a cavalier refusal. Jackson then sent a peremptory order, not only to forward provisions, but to join him at once with his troops. Colonel Milton, after reading the order, asked the bearer what sort of a man Jackson was. "One," he replied, "who intends, when he gives an order, to have it obeyed." The colonel concluded to obey, and soon effected a junction with his troops. Jackson then resumed his march along the banks of the Tallapoosa; but he had hardly set the leading column in motion, when word was brought him that Colonel Milton's brigade was unable to follow, as the wagon-horses had strayed away during the night,