The Onondaga was a peerless runner, he had been gone long now, and what would he find at the base of the smoke?
If it had been the fire of an enemy then he would be back in the middle of the afternoon, and they would be in no worse case than before.

They might try to escape in the night down the cliff, but it was not likely that vigilant foes would permit men, clumsy in the woods like the soldiers, to steal away in such a manner.
The earlier hours of the afternoon were passed by the sharpshooters on either side trying to stalk one another.

Although Robert had no part in it, it was a savage play that alternately fascinated and repelled him.

He had no way to tell exactly, but he believed that two more of the Indians had fallen, while a soldier received a wound.

A bullet grazed Black Rifle's head, but instead of daunting him it seemed to give him a kind of fierce joy, and to inspire in him a greater desire to slay.
These efforts, since they achieved no positive results, soon died down, and both sides lay silent in their coverts.