A body of
them under Captain Waggoner made a dash for a fallen tree lying in the
woods, far out towards the lurking-places of the Indians, and, crouching
behind the huge trunk, opened fire; but the regulars, seeing the smoke
among the bushes, mistook their best friends for the enemy, shot at them
from behind, killed many, and forced the rest to return. A few of the
regulars also tried in their clumsy way to fight behind trees; but
Braddock beat them with his sword, and compelled them to stand with the
rest, an open mark for the Indians. The panic increased; the soldiers
crowded together, and the bullets spent themselves in a mass of human
bodies. Commands, entreaties, and threats were lost upon them. "We would
fight," some of them answered, "if we could see anybody to fight with."
Nothing was visible but puffs of smoke. Officers and men who had stood
all the afternoon under fire afterwards declared that they could not be
sure they had seen a single Indian. Braddock ordered Lieutenant-Colonel
Burton to attack the hill where the puffs of smoke were thickest, and
the bullets most deadly. With infinite difficulty that brave officer
induced a hundred men to follow him; but he was soon disabled by a
wound, and they all faced about. The artillerymen stood for some time by
their guns, which did great damage to the trees and little to the enemy.
The mob of soldiers, stupefied with terror, stood panting, their
foreheads beaded with sweat, loading and firing mechanically, sometimes
into the air, sometimes among their own comrades, many of whom they
killed.
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