The Indians fought with their accustomed bravery.

But one after another their warriors fell killed or disabled.
As the gloom of a winter's night settled down over this awful scene of war, the savages retired in good order, across the ice of an arm of the Yellowstone, to an island in the middle of the river.

They had adopted the precaution, unusual with them, of erecting here quite a strong fortress, to which they could retreat in case of disaster.

Thus situated, both parties, wearied with the long conflict of the day, sought such repose as night could give to men sleeping upon their arms.
The trappers knew not what scenes were transpiring in the Indian camp on the island.

As for themselves, they could only venture, with the utmost caution, to kindle small fires to cook their supper.