The Indians tried every way to escape; but they were by this time completely surrounded, and, finding it impossible to break through the lines, they quietly retired with their wives and children to the blazing huts, and whole families submitted to the flames rather than die by the sword. They would not even gratify their enemies by the least sound that might betray anything like pain or terror; although more than five hundred Indians, many of whom were women and children, miserably perished on that awful night ; not one was heard to cry or scream.

The Dutch victory was complete. Large fires were built, for the air was intensely cold; the wounded were dressed, sentinels were posted, and the weary troops bivouacked on the battle ground for the remainder of the night.

How terrible the change that a few hours had brought upon the Indian village, which, at the setting of the sun, lay so peacefully in that mountain gorge, surrounded by the pure, untrodden snow !

The village now a smouldering ruin -- the snow trampled and scattered by many a desperate struggle -- crimsoned, too, with blood, and holding in its cold embrace hundreds of ghastly forms -- what more desolate picture could Revenge itself have desired to behold than the ruined homes, the broken weapons, the gory scalps, and the grim faces of the dead, which the full moon disclosed as her silvery rays streamed upon the mountain slope and floated down the valley !*

O'Callaghon thus details the action in his history of the N. H. : " On his return from Heemstede, Capt. Underhill was ordered to Stamford, to obtain particulars of the whereabouts of the savages. He brought word back, that they were encamped some five hundred strong in that direction, and that the old guide urged the forwarding a body of troops immediately thither, as he was desirous, on the one hand, to prove that the former ill-success of the Dutch was not his fault; on the other hand anxious for protection, as his life was in constant danger.