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Portrait of Rev. John A. M’Clung, D.D ............ ..Frontispiece.
Boone and Findley’s First View of Kentucky ....... .. Page 46
Capture of Boone and Cal1away’s Daughters. .....  “ 53
Patterson’s Escape from the Battle of the Blue Licks... “ 78
Simon Kenton saving the Life of Daniel Boone ....... .. “ 86
John Slover hiding in the Grass from Indians “ 147
A Bear assists Downing to Escape from an Indian...... “ 189
Mrs. Merri1’s Defense against a Midnight Attack  “ 197
‘v'M'e‘ssliawa rescues two Boys from Chickatommo .. ....  “ 226
A -indian Woman revealing the Conspiracy of Pontiac..... “ 328
368

Fearful Leap of Major Samuel McCo11och .............. .. “

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. , , , _ Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
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"‘l(I

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
rival of reinforcements, had taken measures to meet
them.
  To the left of the long and narrow lane, where the
Maysville and Lexington road now runs, there were
more than one hundred acres of green standing corn.
The usual road from Lexington to Bryant's ran parallel
to the fence of this field, and only a few feet distant from
it. On the opposite side of the road was a thick wood.
Here more than three hundred Indians lay in ambush,
within pistol shot of the road, awaiting the approach of
the party. The horsemen came in view at a time when
the firing had ceased and every thing was quiet. Seeing no enemy, and hearing no noise, they entered the
lane at a gallop, and were instantly saluted with a
shower of rifle balls from each side, at the distance of
ten paces.
  At the first shot the whole party set spurs to their
horses, and rode at full speed through a rolling fire from
either side, which continued for several hundred yards,
but, owing partly to the furious rate at which they rode,
partly to the clouds of dust raised by the horses' feet,
they all entered the fort unhurt. The men on foot were
less fortunate. They were advancing through the cornfield, and might have reached the fort in safety but for
their eagerness to succor their friends. Without reflecting that, from the weight and extent of the fire, the
enemy must have been ten times their number, they ran
up, with inconsiderate courage, to the spot where the
firing was heard, and there found themselves cut off
from the fort and within pistol shot of more than three
hundred savages.
  Fortunately, the Indian guns had just been discharged, and they had not yet had leisure to reload.
At the sight of this brave body of footmen, however,
they raised a hideous yell, and rushed upon them, tomahawk in hand. Nothing but the high corn and their
loaded rifles could have saved them from destruction.
The Indians were cautious in rushing upon a loaded rifle
with only a tomahawk, and, when they halted to load
their pieces, the Kentuckians ran with great rapidity,
turning and dodging through the corn in every direc70
DANIEL BOONE.
tion. Some entered the wood and escaped through the
thickets of cane, some were shot down in the corn-field,
others maintained a running fight, halting occasionally
behind trees and keeping the enemy at bay with their
rifles; for, of all men, the Indians are generally the
most cautious in exposing themselves to danger. A
stout, active young fellow, was so hard pressed by Girty
and several savages, that lie was compelled to discharge
his rifle (however unwilling, having no time to reload
it), and Girty fell.
  It happened, however, that a piece of thick soleleather was in his shot-pouch at the time, which received
the ball and preserved his life, although the force of the
blow felled him to the ground. The savages halted
upon his fall, and the young man escaped. Although
the skirmish and the race laAted for more than an hour,
during which the corn-field presented a scene of turmoil
and bustle which can scarcely be conceived, yet very
few lives were lost. Only six of the white men were
killed and wounded, and probably still fewer of the
enemy, as the whites never fired until absolutely necessary, but reserved their loads as a check upon the
enemy. Had the Indians pursued them to Lexington,
they might have possessed themselves of it without resistance, as there was no force there to oppose them; but,
after following the fugitives for a few hundred yards,
they returned to the hopeless siege of the fort.
  It was now near sunset, and the fire on both sides had
slackened.  The Indians had become discouraged.
Their loss in the morning had been heavy, and the
country was evidently arming and would soon be upon
them. They had made no impression upon the fort, and
without artillery could hope to make none. The chiefs
spoke of raising the siege and decamping, but Girty determined, since his arms had been unavailing, to try the
efficacy of negotiation. Near one of the bastions there
was a large stump, to which he crept on his hands and
knees, and from which he hailed the garrison.
  He highly commended their courage, but assured
them that further resistance would be madness, as he
had six hundred warriors with him, and was in hourly
         8
71
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
expectation of reinforcements with artillery, which would
instantly blow their cabins into the air; that if the fort
was taken by storm, as it certainly would be when their
cannon arrived, it would be impossible for him to save
their lives, but, if they surrendered at once, he gave
them his honor that not a hair of their heads should be
injured. He told them    his name, inquired whether
they knew him, and assured them that they might
safely trust to his honor.
  The garrison listened in silence to his speech, and
many of them looked very blank at the mention of the
artillery, as the Indians had, on one occasion, brought
cannon with them and destroyed two stations. But a
young man by the name of Reynolds, highly distinguished for courage, energy, and a frolicsome gayety of
temper, perceiving the effect of Girty's speech, took upon
himself to reply to it.
  To Girty's inquiry, "Whether the garrison knew
him? " Reynolds replied, " That he was very well known;
that he himself had a worthless dog, to which he had
given the name of'Simon Girty,' in consequence of
his striking resemblance to the man of that name;
that if he had either artillery or reinforcements, he
might bring them up and be d-       d; that if either
himself, or any of the naked rascals with him, found
their way into the fort, they would disdain to use their
guns against them, but would drive them out again
with switcihes, of which they had collected a great
number for that purpose alone; and finally, he declared, that they also expected reinforcements; that
the whole country was marching to their assistance;
and that if Girty and his gang of murderers remained
twenty-four hours longer before the fort, their scalps
would be found drying in the sun upon the roofs of
their cabins."
   Girty took great offense at the tone and language of
the young Kentuckian, and retired with an expression
of sorrow for the inevitable destruction which awaited
them on the following morning. He quickly rejoined
the chiefs; and instant preparations were. made for
raising the siege. The night passed away in uninter72
DANIEL BOONE.
rupted tranquillity, and at daylight in the morning
the Indian camp was found deserted. Fires were still
burning brightly, and several pieces of meat were left
upon their roasting sticks, from which it was inferred
that they had retreated a short time before daylight.
  Early in the day, reinforcements began to drop in,
and by noon, one hundred and sixty-seven men were
assembled at Bryant's Station. Colonel Daniel Boone,
accompanied by his youngest son, head(d a strong
party from   Boonesborough; Trigg brought up the
force from  the neighborhood of Harrodsburgh, and
Todd   commanded    the militia  around  Lexington.
Nearly a third of the whole number assembled, was
composed of commissioned officers, who hurried from a
distance to the scene of hostilities, and for the time
took their station in the ranks. Of those under the
rank of colonel, the most conspicuous were Majors
Harland, McBride, McGary, and Levi Todd, and
Captains Bulger and Gordon. Of the six last-named
officers, all fell in the subsequent battle, except Todd
and MeGary. Todd and Tri-g, as senior colonels,
took the command, although their authority seems to
have been in a great measure nominal. That, however,
was of less consequence, as a sense of common danger
is often more binding than the strictest discipline.
  A tumultuous consultation, in which every one seems
to have had a voice, terminated in a unanimous resolution to pursue the enemy without delay. It was
well known that General Logan had collected a strong
force in Lincoln, and would join them at farthest in
twenty-four hours. It was distinctly understood that
the enemy was at least double, and, according to Girty's
account, more than treble their own numbers. It was
seen that their trail was broad and obvious, and that
even some indications of a tardiness and willingness to
be pursued, had been observed by their scouts, who
had been sent out to reconnoiter, and from which it
might reasonably be inferred that they would halt on
the way, at least march so leisurely as to permit them
to wait for the aid of Logan. Yet so keen was the
ardor of officer and soldier, that all these obvious rea73
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
sons were overlookeId, and in the afternoon of the
eighteenth of August, the line of march was taken up,
and the pursuit urged with that precipitate courage
which has so often been fatal to Kentuckians. Most
of the offi-ers and many of the privates were mounted.
  The Indians had followed the buffalo trace, and as
if to rend(er their trail still more evident, they had
ch)l)pe,l many of the trees on each side of the road
with their hatchets. These strong indications of tardiness made some impression upon the cool and calculatin(, mind of Boone; but it was too late to advise
retreat. They encamped that night in the woods, and
on the following day reached the fatal boundary of
their pursuit. At the Lower Blue Licks, for the first
time since the pursuit commenced, they came within
view of an enemy. As the miscellaneous crowd of
horse and foot reached the southern bank of the Licking, they saw a number of Indians ascending the
rocky ridge on the other side.
  They halted upon the appearance of the Kentuckians, gazed at thein for a f.w moments in silence, and
then calmly and leisurely disappeared over the top of
the hill. A halt immediately ensued. A dozen or
twenty offi-!ers met in front of the ranks, and entered
into c,nsultation. Th<; wild and lonely aspect of the
country around them, their distance from any point of
support, with the certainty of their being in the presence of a superior enemy, seems to have inspired a
portion of seriousness, bordering upon awe. All eyes
were now turned upon Boone, and Colonel Todd asked
his opinion as to what should be done. The veteran
woodsmnan, with his usual unmoved gravity, replied:
   "That their situation was critical and delicate; that
the force opposed to them was undoubtedly numerous
andl ready for battle, as might readily be seen from the
leisurely retreat of the few Indians who had appeared
upon the crest of the hill; that he was well acquainted
with the ground in the neighborhood of the Lick, and
was apprehensive that an ambuscade was formed at
the distance of a mile in advance, where two ravines,
one upon each side of the ridge, ran in such a manner
74
DANIEL BOONE.
that a concealed enemy might assail them at once both
in front and flank, before they were apprised of the
danger.
  "It would be proper, therefore, to do one of two
things. Either to await the arrival of Logan, who
was now undoubtedly on his march to join them, or if
it was determined to attack without delay, that onehalf of their number should march up the river, which
there bends in an elliptical form, cross at the rapids and
fall upon the rear of the enemy, while the other division attacked in front. At any rate, he strongly urged
the necessity of reconnoitering the ground carefully before the main body crossed the river."
  Such was the counsel of*Boone. And, although no
measure could have been much more disastrous than
that which \was adopted, yet it may be doubted if any
thing short of an immediate retreat upon Logan, could
have saved this gallant body of men from the ifate which
they'encountered. If they divided their force, the enemy, as in Estill's case, might have overwhelmed them
in detail; if they remained where they were, without
advancing, the enemy would - certainly have attacked
them, probably in the night, and with a certainty of
success. They had committed a great error at first, in
not waiting for Logan, and nothing short of a retreat,
which would have been considered disgraceful, could
now repair it.
  Boone was heard in silence and with deep attention.
Some wished to adopt the first plan; others preferred
the second; and the discussion threatened to be drawn
out to some length, when the boiling ardor of MeGary,
who could never endure the presence of an enemy without instant battle, stimulated him to an act, which had
nearly proved destructive to his country. He suddenly
interrupted the consultation with a loud whoop, resembling the war-cry of the Indians, spurred his horse into
the stream, waved his hat over his head, and shouted
aloud: "Let all who are not cowards follow me!"
The words and the action together, produced an electrical effect. The mounted men dashed tumultuously
into the river, each striving to be foremost. The foot75
7VESITERN AD VENT URE.
men were mingled with them in one rolling and irregular mass.
  No order was given and none observed. They struggled through a deep ford as well as they could, McGary
still leading the van, closely followed by Majors Harland and McBride. With the same rapidity they ascended the ridge, which, by the trampling of buffalo
foragers, had been strip)ped bare of all vegetation, with
the exception of a few dwarfish cedars, and which was
rendered still more desolate in appearance by the multitude of rocks, blackened by the sun, which were
spread over its surface.  Upon reaching the top of
the ridge, they followed the buffalo trace with the same
precipitate ardor; Todd and Trigg in the rear; McGary, Harland, McBride, and Boone in front.      No
scouts were sent in advance, none explored either flank;
officers and soldiers seemed alike demented by the contagious example of a single man, and all struggled forward, horse and foot, as if to outstrip each other in the
advance.
  Suddenly, the van halted.   They had reached the
spot mentioned by Boone, where the two ravines head,
on each side of the ridge. Here a body of Indians presented themselves, and attacked the van. McGary's
party instantly returned the fire, but under great disadvantage. They were upon a bare and open ridge;
the Indians in a bushy ravine. The center and rear,
ignorant of the ground, hurried up to the assistance of
the van, but were soon stopped by a terrible fire from
the ravine which flanked them. They found themselves
inclosed as if in the wings of a net, destitute of proper
shelter, while the enemy were in a great measure covered from their fire. Still, however, they maintained
their ground. The action became warm and bloody.
The parties gradually closed, the Indians emerged from
the ravine, and the fire became mutually destructive.
The officers suffered dreadfully. Todd and Trigg, in
the rear; Harland, McBride, and young Boone, in
front, were already killed.
  The Indians gradually extended their line, to turn
the right of the Kentuckians, and cut off their retreat.
76
DANIEL BOONE.
This was quickly perceived by the weight of the fire
from that quarter, and the rear instantly fell back in
disorder, and attempted to rush through their only opening to the river. The motion quickly communicated
itself to the van, and a hurried retreat became general.
The Indians instantly sprung forward in pursuit, and
falling upon them with their tomahawks, made a cruel
slaughter.  From the battle-ground to the river, the
spectacle was terrible. The horsemen generally escaped,
but the foot, particularly the van, which had advanced
farthest within the wings of the net, were almost totally
destroyed. Colonel Boone, after witnessing the death
of his son and many of his dearest friends, found himself almost entirely surrounded at the very commencement of the retreat.
  Several hundred Indians were between him and the
ford, to which the great mass of the fugitives were bending their flight, and to which the attention of the savages was principally directed. Being intimately acquainted with the ground, he, together with a few friends,
dashed into the ravine which the Indians had occupied,
but which most of them had now left to join in the pursuit. After sustaining one or two heavy fires, and baffling one or two small parties, who pursued him for a
short distance, he crossed the river below the ford, by
swimming, and entering the wood at a point where
there was no pursuit, returned by a circuitous route to
Bryant's Station. In the meantime, the great mass of the
victors and vanquished crowded the bank of the ford.
  The slaughter was great in the river. The ford was
crowded with horsemen and foot and Indians, all mingled together. Some were compelled to seek a passage
above by swimming; some, who could not swim, were
overtaken and killed at the edge of the water. A man
by the name of Netherland, who had formerly been
strongly suspected of cowardice, here displayed a coolness and presence of mind, equally noble and unexpected. Being finely mounted, he had outstripped the
great mass of fugitives, and crossed the river in safety.
A dozen or twenty horsemen accompanied him, and
having placed the river between them and the enemy,
77
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
showed a disposition to continue their flight, without
regard to the safety of their friends who were on foot,
and still struggling with the current.
   Netherland instantly checked his horse, and in a loud
 voice called upon his companions to halt, fire upon the
 Indians, and save those who were still in the stream.
 The party instantly obeyed; and facing about, poured
 a close and fatal discharge of rifles upon the foremost
 of the pursu,rs. The enemy instantly fell back from
 the opposite bank, and gave time for the hara.sed and
 miserable f)otnmen to cross in safety. The check, how ever, was but momentary. Indians were seen crossing
 in great numbers above and below, and the flight again
 became general. Most of the foot left the gieat butfhlo
 track, and plunging into the thickets, escaped by a cir cuit,)us route to Brvant's Station.
   But little loss was sustained after crossing the river,
 although the pursuit was urged keenly for twenty miles.
 From the battle-ground to the ford, the loss was very
 heavy; and at that stage of the retreat, there occurred
 a rare and striking instance of magnanimity, which it
 would be criminal to omit. The reader coull not have
 forgotten Aaron Reynolds, who replied with such rough
 but ready humor to the pomp,ous summons of Girty, at
 the siege.of Bryant's. This young man, after hearing
 his share in the action with distinguished gallantry, was
 galloping with several other lih,rse!uen in order to reach
 the ford. The great body of fugitives had pieceded
 them, and their situation was in the highest degree crit ical and dangerous.
   About half way between the battle-ground and the
 river, the party overtook Captain Patterson, on foot,
 exhausted by the rapidity of the flight, and, in conse quence of former wounds received from the Indians, so
 infirm as to be unable to keep up with the main body
 of the men on foot. The Indians were close behind
.him, and his flate seemed inevitable. Reynolds, upon
coming up with this brave officer, instantly sprung from
his horse, aided Patterson to mount into the saddle, and
continued his own flight on foot.   Being remarkably
active and vigorous, he contrived to elude his pursuers,
78
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PREFACE.

IN these “latter days,” when a rage for book making per-
vades all ages, sexes, and conditions, it is scarcely necessary to
offer the usual hackneyed apology, for what is modestly called
“a trespass upon the patience of the public!” Should the book
prove entertaining, and in some degree useful, no apology will
be necessary-—.it' otherwise, none will be received. I shall con-
tent myselt with referring distinctly~to the sources from which
the materials for this work have been derived, in order to give
an opportunity of ascertaining its authenticity.

For the correctness with which the adventures of BOONE,
SMITH, and JOHNSTON are detailed, I refer the reader to the
printed narratives of each of those gentlemen. In the life of
Boone are many particulars relating to the siege of Bryant’s
Station and the battle of the Blue Licks which are not to be
found in Boone’s narrative. For some of these I am indebted
to Mr. Marshall; but most of them have been taken from a
series of “N.»tes,” which appeared, about 1830, in the Kentucky
Gazette, and which were carefully taken down from the verbal
communications of individuals who were actively engaged in
those scenes.

For the striking incidents attending the expedition of CRAW-
FORD, I am indebted to the printed narrative of KNIGHT and
SLOVER, published immediately after their return to Virginia,
when the affair was fresh in the recollection of hundreds, and
any misstatement would instantly have been corrected. KEN-
'r0N’s adventures a.re taken from a manuscript account dictated
by the pioneer himself, and now in the possession of Mr. John
D. Taylor, of Washington, Ky. The adventures ofJoHONNE'1‘
are from a printed account by himself, which appeared in 1791,
immediately after the defeat of St. Ulair; and those of KEN-
NAN, from his own account——which the author, in common with
many others, has heard repeatedly from his own lips. For the
rest I refer the reader generally to Metcalf’s collection, Mr.
Withers’ “ Border Wars,” and the “Notes on Kentucky,” already
mentioned.

A small portion of the minor details have been gathered from
personal conversation with the individuals concerned. I might
have given a host of anecdotes, partaking strongly of the mar-
velous, and some of them really worth _v of being inserted, could
I have been satisfied of their truth! But I have chosen to con-
fine myself to those given upon unquestionable authority; and
can conscientiously affirm, that I have admitted nothing which
I myself, at the time, did not believe to be true.

J. A. MCC.
(iii)

DANIEL BOONE.
and turning off from the main road, plunged into the
river near the spot where Boone had crossed, and swam
in safety to the opposite side. Unfortunately, he wore
a pair of buckskin breeches, which had become so heavy
and full of water as to prevent his exerting himself with
his usual activity; and while sitting down for the purpose of pulling.them off, he was overtaken. by a party
of Indians, and made prisoner.
  A prisoner is rarely put to death by the Indians, unless wounded or infirm, until they return to their own
country; and then his fate is decided in solemn council.
Young Reynolds, therefore, was treated kindly, and
compelled to accompany his captors in the pursuit. A
smal'?arty of Kentuckians soon attracted their attention;
ar, e was left in charge of three Indians, who, eager in
pursuit, in turn committed him to the charge of one of
their number while they followed their companions. Reynolds and his guard jogged along very leisurely; the
former totally unarmed; the latter, with a tomahawk and
rifle in his hands. At length the Indian stopped to tie his
moccasin, when Reynolds instantly sprung upon him,
knocked him down with his fist, and quickly disappeared in the thicket which surrounded them. For this
act of generosity, Captain Patterson afterward made
him a present of two hundred acres of first-rate land.
  Late in the evening of the same day, most of the
survivors arrived at Bryant's Station. The melancholy
intelligence spread rapidly throughout the country, and
the whole land was covered with mourning. Sixty men
had been killed in the battle and flight, and seven had
been taken prisoners, part of whom were afterward put
to death by the Indians, as was said, to make their loss
even. This account, however, appears very improbable.  It is almost incredible that the Indians should
have suffered an equal loss. Their superiority of numbers, their advantage of position (being in a great measure sheltered, while the Kentuckians, particularly the
horsemen, were much exposed), the extreme brevity of
the battle, and the acknowledged bloodiness of the
pursuit, all tend to contradict the report that the Indian
loss exceeded ours.
          9
79
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
  We have no doubt that some of the prisoners were
murdered after arriving at their towns, but can not believe that the reason assigned for so ordinary a piece
of barbarity was the true one. Still, the execution done
by the Kentuckians, while the battle lasted, seems to
have been considerable, although far inferior to the loss
which they themselves sustained. Todd and Trigg were
a severe loss to their families, and to the country generally. They were men of a rank in life superior to the
ordinary class of settlers, and generally esteemed Ibr
courage, probity, and intelligence. The death of Major
Harland was deeply and universally regretted. A keen
courage, united to a temper the most amiable, and an
integrity the most incorruptible, had rendered him extremely popular in the country.
  Together with his friend, McBride, he accompanied
McGary in the van, and both fell in the commencement
of the action. McGary, notwithstanding the extreme
exposure of his station, as leader of the van, and consequently most deeply involved in the ranks of the enemy, escaped without the slightest injury. This gentlemen will ever be remembered, as associated with the
disaster of which he was the immediate, although not
the original cause. He has always been represented as
a man of fiery and daring courage, strongly tinctured
with ferocity, and unsoftened by any of the humane and
gentle qualities which awaken affection. In the hour
of battle, his presence was invaluable; but in civil life,
the ferocity of his temper rendered him an unpleasant
companion.
   Several years after the battle of the Blue Licks, a
gentleman of Kentucky, since dead, fell in company
with McGary at one of the circuit courts, and the conversation soon turned upon the battle. McGary frankly
acknowledged that he, himself, was the immediate cause
of the loss of blood on that day, and, with great heat
and energy, assigned his reasons for urging on the battle.
He said that, in the hurried council which was held at
Bryant's on the eighteenth, he had strenuously urged
Todd and Trigg to halt for twenty-four hours, assuring
them, that with the aid of Logan they would be able
80
DANIEL BOONE.
to follow them even to Chillicothe, if necessary, and
that their numbers, then, were too weak to encounter
them alone. He offered, he said, to pledge his head,
that the Indians would not return with such precipitation as was supposed, but would affbrd ample time to
collect more iorce, and give them battle with a prospect
of success.
  He added, that Colonel Todd scouted his arguments,
and declared "that if a single day was lost, the Indians would never be overtaken, but would cross the
Ohio and disperse; that now was the time to strike
them, while they were in a body; that to talk of their
numbers was nowsense-the more the merrier; that for
his part he was determined to pursue without a moment's delay, and did not doubt that there were brave
men enough on the ground, to enable him to attack
them with effect."  McGary declared "that he felt
somewhat nettled at the manner in which his advice
had been received. That he thought Todd and Trigg
jealous of Logan, who, as senior colonel, would be entitled to the command upon his arrival; and that, in
their eagerness to have the honor of the victory to
themselves, they were rashly throwing themselves into
a condition, which would endanger the safety of the
country."
  " However, sir," continued he, with an air of unamiable triumph, " when I saw the gentlemen so keen
for a fight, I gave way, and joined in the pursuit as
willingly as any; but when we came in sight of the
enemy, and the gentlemen began to talk of'numbers,'
'poaition,''Logan,' and'waiting,' I burst into a passion, d-  d them for a set of cowards, who could not
be wise, until they were scared into it, and swore that
since they had come so far for a fight, they should fight,
or I would disgrace them forever! That when I spoke
of waiting for Logan on the day before, they had
scouted the idea, and hinted something about'courage'-that now it would be shown who had courage,
or who were d-    d cowards, that could talk big when
the enemy was at a distance, but turned pale when
danger was near. I then dashed into the river, and
81
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
called upon all who were not cowards to follow!" The
gentleman upon whose authority this is given, added
that, even then, McGary spoke with bitterness of the
deceased colonels, and swore that they had received just
what they deserved, and that he for one was glad of it.
  That the charge of McGary, in its full extent, was
unjust, there can be no doubt; at the same time, it is
in accordance with the known principles of human nature, to suppose that the natural ardor of the officers,
both young men, should be stimulated by the hope of
gaining a victory, the honor of which would be given
them as commanders. The number of the Indians was
not distinctly known, and if their retreat had been ordinarily precipitate, they would certainly have crossed
the Ohio before Logan could have joined. But, leaving all the facts to speak for themselves, we will proceed with our narrative.
  On the very day in which this rash and unfortunate
battle was fought, Colonel Logan arrived at Bryant's
Station, at the head of no less than four hundred and
fifty men. He here learned that the little army had
marched on the preceding day, without waiting for so
strong, and necessary a reinforcement.   Fearful of
some such disaster as had actually occurred, he urged
his march with the utmost diligence, still hoping to
overtake them before they could cross the Ohio; but,
within a few miles of the fort, he encountered the foremost of the fugitives, whose jaded horses, and harassed
looks, announced but too plainly the event of the battle.
  As usual with men after a defeat, they magnified the
number of' the enemy and the slaughter of their comrades. None knew the actual extent of their loss.
They could only be certain of their own escape, and
could give no account of their companions. Fresh
stragglers constantly came up, with the same mournful
intelligence; so that Logan, after some hesitation, determined to return to Bryant's until all the survivors
should come up. In the course of the evening, both
horse and foot were re-assembled at Bryant's, and the
loss was distinctly ascertained. Although sufficiently
severe, it was less than Logan had at first apprehended,
82
DANIEL BOONE.
and having obtained all the information which could be
collected, as to the strength and probable destination
of the enemy, he determined to continue his march to
the battle-ground, with the hope that success would
embolden the enemy, and induce them to remain until
his arrival.
  On the second day he reached the field. The enemy
were gone, but the bodies of the Kentuckians still lay
unburied, on the spot where they had fallen. Immense
flocks of buzzards were soaring over the battle-ground,
and the bodies of the dead had become so much swollen and disfigured, that it was impossible to recognize
the features of the most particular friends. Many
corpses were floating near the shore of the northern
bank, already putrid from the action of the sun, and
partially eaten by fishes. The whole were carefully
collected by order of Colonel Logan, and interred as
decently as the nature of the soil would permit. Being
satisfied that the Indians were by this time far beyond
his reach, he then retraced his steps to Bryant's Station
and dismissed his men.
  As soon as intelligence of the battle of the Blue
Licks reached Colonel George Rogers Clark, who then
resided at the Falls of Ohio, he determined to set on
foot an expedition against the Indian towns for the
purpose both of avenging the loss of the battle, and
rousing the spirit of the country, which had begun to
sink into the deepest dejection. He proposed that one
thousand men should be raised from all parts of Kentucky, and should rendezvous at Cincinnati, under
the command of their respective officers, where he engaged to meet them at the head of a part of the Illinois
regiment, then under his command, together with one
brass field-piece, which was regarded by the Indians
with superstitious terror. The offer was embraced with
great alacrity; and instant measures were taken for the
collection of a sufficient number of volunteers.
  The whole force of the interior was assembled under
the command of Colonel Logan, and descending the
Licking in boats, prepared for the purpose, arrived
safely at the designated point of union, where they
83
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
were joined by Clark with the volunteers and regular
detachment from below. No provision was made for
the subsistence of the troops, and the sudden concentration of one thousand men and horses upon a single
point, rendered it extremely difficult to procure the
necessary supplies. The woods abounded in game; but
the rapidity and secrecy of their march, which was
absolutely essential to the success of the expedition,
did not allow them to disperse in search of it. They
suffered greatly, therefore, from hunger as well as fatigue; but all being accustomed to privations of every
kind, they prosecuted their march with unabated rapidity, and appeared within a mile of one of their largest
villages, without encountering a single Indian.
  Here, unfortunately, a straggler fell in with them,
and instantly fled to the village, uttering the alarm
whoop repeatedly in the shrillest and most startling
tones. The troops pressed forward with great dispatch, and entering their town, found it totally deserted. The houses had evidently been abandoned only
a few minutes before their arrival. Fires were burning, meat was upon the roasting-sticks, and corn was
still boiling in their kettles. The provisions were a
most acceptable treat to the Kentuckians, who were
well-nigh famished, but the escape of their enemies excited deep and universal chagrin.
  After refreshing themselves, they engaged in the
serious business of destrjying the property of the
tribes with unrelenting severity. Their villages were
burnt, their corn cut up, and their whole country
laid waste. During the whole of this severe, but necessary occupation, scarcely an Indian was to be seen.
The alarm had spread universally, and every village
was found de-erted. Occasionally, a solitary Indian
would crawl up within gunshot, and deliver his fire;
and once a small party mounted upon superb horses,
rode up with great audacity, within musket-shot, and
took a leisurely survey of the whole army, but upon
seeing a detachment preparing to attack them, they
galloped off with a rapidity which baffled pursuit.
  Boone accompanied this expedition, but, as usual,
DANIEL BOONE.
has omitted every thing which relates to himself.
Here the brief memoir of Boone closes. It does not
appear that he was afterward engaged in any public
expedition,- or solitary adventure. He continued a
highly respectable citizen of Kentucky for several
years, until the country became too thickly settled for
his taste. As refinement of manners advanced, and
the general standard of intelligence became elevated
by the constant arrival of families of rank and influence, the rough old woodsman found himself entirely
out of his element. He could neither read nor write;
the all-engaging subject of politics, which soon began
to agitate the country with great violence, was to him
as a sealed book, or an unknown language; and for
several years he wandered among the living group,
which thronged the court-yard or the churches, like a
venerable relic of other days. He was among them,
but not of them! He pined in secret for the wild and
lonely forests of the west-for the immense prairie,
trodden only by the buffalo or the elk; and became
eager to exchange the listless languor and security of
a village for the healthful exercises of the chase, or the
more thrilling excitement of savage warfare.
  In 1792, he dictated his brief and rather dry memoirs
to some young gentleman who could write, and who has
garnished it with a few flourishes of rhetoric, which
passed off upon the old woodsman as a precious morsel
of eloquence. He was never more gratified than when
he could sit and hear it read to him by some one, who
was willing, at so small an expense, to gratify the harmless vanity of the kind-hearted old pioneer. He would
listen with great earnestness, and occasionally rub his
hands, smile, and ejaculate, "All true! every word
true!-not a lie in it!"  He shortly afterward left
Kentucky and removed to Missouri.       Hunting was
his daily amusement, and almost his only occupation.
  Until the day of his death (and he lived to an unusually advanced age), he was in the habit of remaining for days at a time in the fbrest, at a distance from
the abodes of men, armed with a rifle, hatchet, knife,
and having flints and steel to enable him to kindle a
85
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
fire and broil the wild game upon which he depended
for subsistence. When too old to walk through the
woods, as was his custom when young, he would ride
to a lick, and there lay in ambush all day for the sake
of getting a shot at the herds of deer that were accustomed to visit the spot for the sake of the salt. We
have heard, that he died in the woods while laying in
ambush near a lick, but have not at present the means
of ascertaining, with certainty, the manner of his death.
  He has left behind him a name strongly written in
the annals of Kentucky; and a reputation for calm courage, softened by humanity, conducted by prudence, and
embellished by a singular modesty of deportment. His
person was rough, robust, and indicating strength rather
than activity; his manner was cold, grave, and taciturn;
his countenance, homely but kind; his conversation,
unadorned, unobtrusive, and touching only upon the
" needful." He never spoke of himself, unless particularly questioned; but the written account of his life
was the Delilah of his imagination. The idea of " seeing his name in print," completely overcame the cold
philosophy of his general manner, and he seemed to
think it a masterpiece of composition.
  The following incident is gathered from " Collins' Kentucky,"
page 385:
  One morning, in 1777, several men in the fields near Boonesborough were attacked by Indians, and ran toward the fort.
One was overtaken and toniahawked within seventy yards of
the fort, and while being scalped, Simon Kenton shot the warrior dead. Daniel Boone, with thirteen men, hastened to help
his friends, but they were intercepted by a large body of Indians,
who got between them and the fort. At the first fire from the
Indians, seven whites were wounded, among them the gallant
Boone. An Indian sprang upon him with uplifted tomahawk;
but Kenton, quick as a tiger, sprang toward the Indian, discharged his gun into his breast, snatched up the body of his
noble leader and bore it safely into the fort. When the gate
was closed securely against the Indians, Boone sent for Kenton:
"Well, Simon," said the grateful old pioneer, "you have behaved yourself like a man to-day-indeed, you are a fine fellow." Boone was a remarkably silent man, and this was great
praise from him.
Simon Kenton saving the life of Daniel Boone. [See page 86.j
PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1872.

The foregoing is the material portion of the Author’s Pre-
face to the original edition of these “Sketches of Western Ad-
venture”-—-first published in 1832, by our father, Judge LEWIS
COLLINS, then editor of the Maysville (Ky.) Eagle; at whose
instance the Sketches were written by the most gifted friend of
his boyhood. Daniel Boone had been a resident of Maysville
only a few years before Mr. C. settled there, and his relatives
still lived there. Simon Kenton, William Kennan, James
Ward, Charles Ward, Maj. Hugh McGrary, Thomas Marshall,
and a few other heroes of the within “Adventures,” were ac-
quaintances or personal friends of both the Author and the
Publisher——some of them as early as 1806—l3. They had every
facility that existed, at that day, to verify, and were thoroughly
assured of, the accuracy of these sketches.

Inquiries in the neighborhood where the brothers lived, de-
veloped that it was Andrew, and not Adam Poe, who had the
terrible adventure with Big Foot. We have changed the name
accordingly. Recent examination of documents and corres-
pondenceof which the Author had no knowledge, has satisfied
the present Publishers of several slight inaccuracies, and of one
error in criticism of public conduct; and these have been cor-
rected. The work is more than ever deserving the rank it took
in 183? as authentic history. Many editions, and many thou-
sand copies, were subsequently published, but none since 1860-].

The subjoined biographical sketch of the Author, Rev. JOHN
A. MCCLUNG, D.D., is from the pen of his life-long friend,
HENRY WALLER, Esq., one of the ablest members of the Chi-
cago bar for seventeen years past, and, for nearly twenty years
prior, of the Maysville bar, an honored representative of Mason
county in the Kentucky Legislature, a president of the Mays-
ville and Lexington Railroad, etc. It is a beautiful, rich, and
thrilling tribute——as just as it is elegant—to one of the noblest
and most gifted of Kentuckians—who was, in succession, min-
ister, author, lawyer, statesman, and again minister of the Gos-
pel; a model in them ‘all, and always the highest type of a
Christian gentleman.

The “Additional Sketches,” beginning with page 385, we have
compiled from the most authentic sources. They are of the
same thrilling character as those which gave the work a stand-
ard reputation forty years ago.

RICHARD H. COLLINS,

VAL. P. COLLINS.
Oovington, Ky.. January 1, 1872.

i (iv)

SIMON KENTON.
                CHAPTER III.
SIMON KENTON was born in Fauquier County,
    Virginia, on the fifteenth of May, 1755, the evermemorable year of Braddock's defeat. Of his early years
nothing is known. His parents were poor, and, until
the age of sixteen, his days seem to have passed away
in the obscure and laborious drudgery of a farm. He
was never taught to read or write; and to this early
negligence, or inability on the part of his parents, is
the poverty and desolation of his old age in a great
measure to be attributed. At the age of sixteen, by
an unfortunate adventure, he was launched into life
-with no other fortune than a stout heart and a robust
set of limbs. It seems that, young as he was, his heart
had become entangled in the snares of a young coquette
in the neighborhood, who was grievously perplexed by
the necessity of choosing one husband out of many
lovers.
  Young Kenton and a robust farmer by the name of
Leitchman seem to have been the most favored suitors,
and the young lady not being able to decide upon their
respective merits, they took the matter into their own
hands; and, in consequence of foul play on the part
of Leitchman's friends, young Kenton was beaten with
great severity. He submitted to his fate for the time
in silence, but internally vowed that, as soon as he had
obtained his full growth he would take ample vengeance
upon his rival for the disgrace which he had sustained
at his hands. He waited patiently until the following
spring, when, finding himself six feet high, and full of
health and action, he determined to delay the hour of
retribution no longer.
  He accordingly walked over to Leitchman's house one
87
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
morning, and finding him busily engaged in carrying
shingles from the woods to his own house, he stopped
him, t,,ld him his object, and desired him to adjourn to
a spot more convenient for the purpose. Leitchman,
confident in his superior age and strength, was not
backward in testifying his willingness to in(lulge him in
so amiable a pastime, and, having reached a solitary
spot in the woods, they both stripped and prepared for
the encounter. The battle was fought with all the fury
which mutual hate, jealousy, and herculean power on
both sides could supply; and after a severe round, in
which considerable damage was done and received,
Kenton was brought to the ground.
  Leitchman (as usual in Virginia) sprung upon him
without the least scruple, and added the most bitter
taunts to the kicks with which he saluted him from his
head to his heels, reminding him of his former defeat,
and rubbing salt into the raw wounds of jealousy by
triumphant allusions to his own superiority both in love
and war. During these active operations on the part
of Leitchman, Kenton lay perfectly still, eyeing attentively a small bush which grew near them. It instantly
occurred to him that it he could wind Leitchmian's hair
(which was remarkably long) around this bush, he
would be able to return those kicks which were now
bestowed upon him in such profusion. The difficulty
was, to get his antagonist near enough.
  This he at length effected in the good old Virginia
style, viz: by biting him en arriere, and compelling him,
by short springs, to approach the bush, much as a bullock is goaded on to approach the fatal ring, where all
his struggles are useless. When near enough, Kenton
suddenly exerted himself violently, and succeeded in
wrapping the long hair of his rival around the sapling.
He then sprung to his feet and inflicted a terrible
revenge for all his past injuries. In a few seconds,
Leitchman was gasping apparently in the agonies of
death. Kenton instantly fled, without even returning
for an additional supply of clothing, and directed his
steps westward.
  During the first day of his journey he traveled in
88
0IMON-V KENTON.
much agitation. He supposed that Leitchman was
dead, and that the hue and cry would instantly be
raised after himself as the murderer. The constant
apprehension of a gallows lent wings to his flight, and
he scarcely allowed himself a moment for refreshment
until he had reached the neighborhood of the Warm
Springs, where the settlements were thin, and the immediate danger of pursuit was over. Here he fortunately fell in with an exile from the State of New
Jersey, of the name of Johnson, who was traveling
westward on foot, and driving a single pack-horse,
laden with a few necessaries, before him. They soon
became acquainted, related their adventures to each
other, and agreed to travel together.
  They plunged boldly into the wilderness of the
Alleghany Mountains, and subsisting upon wild game
and a small quantity of flour which Johnson had
brought with him, they made no halt until they arrived
at a small settlement on Cheat River, one of the prongs
of the Monongahela. Here the two friends separated,
and Kenton (who had assumed the name of Butler),
attached himself to a small company, headed by John
Mahon and Jacob Greathouse, who had united ftr the
purpose of exploring the country. They quickly built
a large canoe, and descended the river as far as the
Province's settlement.  There Kenton  became acquainted with two young adventurers, Yager and
Strader, the former of whom had been taken by the
Indians when a child, and had spent many years in
their village.
  He informed Kenton that there was a country below,
which the Indians called Kan-tuck-ee, which was a
perfect Elysium; that the ground was not only the
richest, and the vegetation the most luxuriant in the
world, but that the immense herds of buffhlo and
elk, which ranged at large through its forests, would
appear incredible to one who had never witnessed such
a spectacle. He added, that it was entirely uninhabited, and was open to all who chose to hunt there;
that he himself had often accompanied the Indians in
their grand hunting parties through the country, and
89
90WESTERN AD VENTURE.
was confident that he could conduct him to the same
ground, if he was willing to venture.
  Kenton eagerly closed with the proposal, and announced his readiness to accompany him immediately.
A  canoe was speedily procured, and the three young
men committed themselves to the waters of the Ohio,
in search of the enchanted hunting-ground, which
Yager had visited in his youth, while a captive among
the Indians. Yager had no idea of its exact distance
from Province's settlement. He recollected only that
he had crossed the Ohio in order to reach it, and declared that, by sailing down the river for a few days,
they would come to the spot where the Indians were
accustomed to cross, and assured Kenton that there
would be no difficulty in recognizing it, that its appearance was different from all the rest of the world, etc.
  Fired by Yager's glowing description of its beauty,
and eager to reach this new El Dorado of the West,
the young men rowed hard for several days, confidently expecting that every bend of the river would
usher them into the land of promise. No such country, however, appeared; and at length Kenton and
Strader became rather skeptical as to its existence at
all. They rallied Yager freely upon the subject, who
still declared positively that they would soon witness
the confirmation of all that he had said. After descending, however, as low as the spot where Manchester now stands, and seeing nothing which resembled
Yager's country, they held a council, in which it was
determined to return, and survey the country more
carefully; Yager still insisting that they must have
passel it in the night. They accordingly retraced thecir
steps, and successively explored the land about Salt
Lick, Little and Big Sandy, and Guyandotte. At
length, being totally wearied out in searching for what
had no existence, they turned their attention entirely
to hunting and trapping, and spent nearly two years
upon the Great Kenawha, in this a,4reeable and profitable occupation. They obtained clothing in exchange
for their furs from the traders of Fort Pitt, and the
forest supplied them abundantly with wild game for food.
90
Ip
SIAIONV KENTON.
  In March, 1773, while reposing in their tent, after
the labors of the day, they were suddenly attacked by
a party of Indians. Strader was killed at the first
fire, and Kenton and Yager with difficulty effected
their escape; being compelled to abandon their guns,
blankets, and provisions, and commit themselves to
the wilderness, without the means of sheltering themselves from the cold, procuring a morsel of food, or
even kindling a fire. They were far removed from
any white settlement, and had no other prospect than
that of perishing by famine, or falling a sacrifice to the
fury of such Indians as might chance to meet them.
Reflecting, however, that it was never too late fbr
men to be utterly lost, they determined to strike
through the woods for the Ohio River, and take such
fortune as it should please heaven to bestow.
  Directing their route by the barks of trees, they
pressed forward in a straight direction for the Ohio,
and during the two first days allayed the piercing pangs
of hunger by chewing such roots as they could find on
their way. On the third day their strength began to
fail, and the keen appetite which, at first, had constantly tortured them, was succeeded by a nausea, acconmpanied with dizzine-s and a sinking of the heart,
bordering on despair. On the fourth day, they often
threw themselves upon the ground, determined to await
the approach of death; and as often were stimulated
by the instinctive love of life to arise and resume their
journey. On the fifth, they were completely exhausted,
and were able only to crawl at intervals. In this manner they traveled about a mile during the day, and
succeeded, by sunset, in reaching the banks of the
Ohio. Here, to their inexpressible joy, they encountered a party of traders, from whom they obtained a
comfortable supply of provisions.
  The traders were so much startled at the idea of
being exposed to perils, such as those which Kenton
and Yager had just escaped, that they lost no time in
removing from such a dangerous vicinity, and instantly
returned to the mouth of the Little Kenawha, where
they met with Dr. Briscoe at the head of another
91
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
exploring party. From him, Kenton obtained a rifle
and some ammunition, with which he again plunged
alone into the forest, and hunted with success until the
summer of 1773 was far advanced. Returning, then,
to the Little Kenawha, he found a party of fourteen
men under the direction of Dr. Wood and Hancock
Lee, who were descending the Ohio with the view of
joining Captain Bullitt, who was supposed to be at the
mouth of the Scioto, with a large party.
  Kenton instantly joined them, and descended the
river in canoes as far as the Three Islands, landing
frequently and examining the country on each side of
the river. At the Three Islands they were alarmed by
the approach of a large party of Indians, by whom
they were compelled to abandon their canoes and strike
diagonally through the wilderness for Greenbriar
County, Va. They suffered much during this journey
from fatigue and famine, and were compelled at one time
(notwithstanding the danger of their situation) to halt
for fourteen days and wait upon Dr. Wood, who had
unfortunately been bitten by a copperhead snake, and
rendered incapable of moving for that length of time.
Upon reaching the settlements the party separated.
  Kenton, not wishing to venture to Virginia (having
heard nothing of Leitchman's recovery), built a canoe
on the banks of the Monongahela, and returning to the
mouth of the Great Kenawha, hunted with success
until the spring of 1774, when a war broke out
between the Indian tribes and the colonies, occasioned,
in a great measure, by the murder of the celebrated
chief Logan's family, by Captain Cresap.  Kenton
was not in the great battle near the mouth of the Kenawha, but acted as a spy throughout the whole of the
campaign, in the course of which he traversed the
country around Fort Pitt, and a large portion of the
present State of Ohio.
   When Dunmore's forces were disbanded, Kenton, in
company with two others, determined on making a
second effort to discover the rich lands bordering on the
Ohio, of which Yager had spoken. Having built a
canoe, and provided themselves abundantly with am92
SIMON KENTON.
munition, they descended the river as far as the mouth
of Big Bone Creek, upon which the celebrated Lick
of that name is situated. They there disembarked,
and explored the country for several days; but not
finding the land equal to their expectations, they reascended the river as far as the mouth of Cabin Creek,
a few miles above Maysville.
  From this point, they set out with a determination
to examine the country carefully, until they could find
land answering, in some degree, to Yager's description.
In a short time, they reached the neighborhood of
May's Lick, and for the first time were struck with
the uncommon beauty of the country and fertility of
the soil. Here they fell in with the great buffalo
trace, which, in a few hours, brought them to the
Lower Blue Lick.     The flats upon each side of the
river were crowded with immense herds of buffalo,
that had come down firom the interior for the sake of
the salt; and a number of elk were seen upon the bare
ridges which surrounded the springs.    Their great
object was now   achieved.  They had discovered a
country far more rich than any which they had yet
beheld, and where the game seemed as abundant as
the grass of the plain.
  After remaining a few days at the Lick, and killing
an immense number of deer and buffalo, they crossed
the Licking, and passed through the present counties
of Scott, Fayette, Woodford, Clarke, Montgomery,
and  Bath; when, falling in with another buffalo
trace, it conducted them to the Upper Blue Lick,
where they again beheld elk and buffalo in immense
numbers.   Highly gratified at the success of their
expedition, they quickly returned to their canoe, and
ascended the river as far as Green Bottom, where
they had left their skins, some ammunition, and a few
hoes, which they had procured at Kenawha with the
view of cultivating the rich ground which they expected to find.
  Returning as quickly as possible, they built a cabin
on the spot where the town of Washington now stands,
and having cleared an acre of ground in the center of
93
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
a large canebrake, they planted it with Indian corn.
Strolling about the country in various directions, they
one day fell in with two white men near the Lower Blue
Lick, who had lost their guns, blankets, and ammunition, and were much distressed for provisions and the
means of extricating themselves from the wilderness.
They informed them that their names were Fitzpatrick
and Hendricks; that, in descending the Ohio, their
canoe had been overset by a sudden squall, and that
they were compelled to swim ashore, without being able
to save any thing from the wreck; that they had wandered thus far through the woods, in the effort to penetrate through the country to the settlements above, but
must infallibly perish unless they could be furnished
with guns and ammunition.
  Kenton informed them of the small settlement which
he had opened at Washington, and invited them to join
him and share such fortune as Providence might bestow.
Hendricks consented to remain; but Fitzpatrick, being
heartily sick of the woods, insisted upon returning to
the Monongahela.    Kenton and his two friends accompanied Fitzpatrick to "the point," as it was then
called, being the spot where Maysville now stands, and,
having given him a gun, etc., assisted him in crossing
the river, and took leave of him on the other side.
  In the meantime, Hendricks had been left at the Blue
Lick, without a gun, but with a good supply of provisions, until the party could return from the river. As
soon as Fitzpatrick had gone, Kenton and his two friends
hastened to return to the Lick, not doubting for a moment that they would find Hendricks in camp as they
had left him. Upon arriving at the point where the
tent had stood, however, they were alarmed at finding
it deserted, with evident marks of violence around it.
Several bullet-holes were to be seen in the poles of
which it was constructed, and various articles belonging to Hendricks were tossed about in too negligent a
manner to warrant the belief that it had been done by
him.
  At a little distance from the camp, in a low ravine,
they observed a thick smoke, as if from a fire just be94
SIMON KEXVTON.               9
ginning to burn. They did not doubt for a moment
that Hendricks had fallen into the hands of the Indians,
and, believing that a party of them were then assembled
around the fire which was about to be kindled, they betook themselves to their heels, and fled faster and farther
than true chivalry, perhaps, would justify. They remained at a distance until the evening of the next day,
when they ventured cautiously to return to camp. The
fire was still burning, although faintly; and, after carefully reconnoitering the adjacent ground, they ventured
at length to approach the spot, and there beheld the
skull and bones of their unfortunate friend!
  He had evidently been roasted to death by a party of
Indians, and must have been alive at the time when
Kenton and his companions approached on the preceding day. It was a subject of deep regret to the party
that they had not reconnoitered the spot more closely, as
it was probable that their friend might have been rescued. The number of Indians might have been small,
and a brisk and unexpected attack might have dispersed
them. Regret, however, was now unavailing; and they
sadly retraced their steps to their camp at Washington,
pondering upon the uncertainty of their own condition
and upon the danger to which they were hourly exposed from the numerous bands of hostile Indians who
were prowling around them in every direction.
  They remained at Washington, entirely undisturbed,
until the month of September; when, again visiting the
Lick, they saw a white man, who informed them that
the interior of the country was already occupied by the
whites, and that there was a thriving settlement at Boonesborough. Highly gratified at this intelligence, and anxious once more to enjoy the society of men, they broke
up their encampment at Washington and visited the
different stations which had been formed in the country.
Kenton sustained two sieges in Boonesborough, and
served as a spy, with equal diligence and success, until
the summer of 1778, when Boone, returning from captivity, as has already been mentioned, concerted an expedition against the small Indian town on Paint Creek.
  Kenton acted as a spy on this expedition; and, after
         10
95
BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR. .

JOHN ALEXANDER MCCLUNG was born near the town of Wash- ~

ington, in the county of Mason, State of Kentucky, on the 25th
day of September, 1804. His father, Judge VVilliam McClung, a
native of Virginia, of Scotch extraction, was distinguished in the
early history of his adopted State for his legal ability and judi-
cial purity and firmness. On the 25th of May, 1793, he had mar-
ried Miss Susan Marshall, a daughter of Col. Thomas Marshall,
and sister of Chief Justice Marshall, of Virginia. She was a lady
of rare intellectual powers, brilliancy of conversation, sweetness
of disposition and elevated piety.

Judge Mc-Clung died when John was a little boy, and he was
thus left to the care a.nd training of a gifted and devoted mother.
During their lives they were rarely separated; and for many
years and to the close of her life she resided in the family of her
son, who was most tenderly attached to her. She reached the
great age of 84 years, and died in Maysville, Ky., on the 5th of
November, 1858. ‘

In early boyhood, John exhibited unusual eagerness for knowl-
edge and a passionate fondness for books. He not only acquired
easily and rapidly, but digested and retained what he read to a
remarkable extent. So soon as he was sufficiently advanced, his
mother sent him to the celebrated Academy at Buck Pond, in
Woodford County, Ky., under the supervision of his uncle, Dr.
‘Louis Marshall. There he had the advantage of being instructed
by Mr. William R. Thompson, a Scotch gentleman of the highest
attainments in classical learning, who was not only a most crit-
ical scholar, of pure and pious character, but a rigid disciplin-
arian, with a rare faculty of imparting his knowledge, and of
winning the attachment of his pupils. The great mind of Dr.
Marshall produced, also, a powerful impression upon the stu-
dents, by opening up wide fields of knowledge, acquainting
them with new modes of analysis and thought, and stimulat-

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
crossing the Ohio, being some distance in advance of
the rest, he was suddenly startled by hearing a loud
laugh from an adjoining thicket, which he was just
about to enter. Instantly halting, he took his station
behind a tree, and waited anxiously for a repetition of
the noise. In a few minutes, two Indians approached
the spot where he lay, both mounted upon a small
pony, and chatting and laughing in high good humor.
Having permitted them to approach within good rifle
distance, he raised his gun, and, aiming at the breast
of the foremost, pulled the trigger. Both Indians fellone shot dead, the other severely wounded.
  Their frightened pony galloped back into the cane,
giving the alarm to the rest of the party, who were
some distance in the rear. Kenton instantly ran up to
scalp the dead man and to tomahawk his wounded companion, according to the usual rule of western warfarle;
but, when about to put an end to the struggles of the
wounded Indian, who did not seem disposed to submit
very quietly to the operation, his attention was attracted
by a rustling of the cane on his right, and, turning
rapidly in that direction, he beheld two Indians within
twenty steps of him, very deliberately taking aim at his
person. A quick spring to one side, on his part, was
instantly followed by the flash and report of their rifles;
the balls whistled close to his ears, causing him involuntarily to duck his head, but doing him no injury.
  Not liking so hot a neighborhood, and being ignorant of the number which might yet be behind, he lost
no time in regaining the shelter of the wood, leaving
the dead Indian unscalped and the wounded man to the
care of his friends. Scarcely had he treed, when a
dozen Indians appeared on the edge of the canebrake,
and seemed disposed to press upon him with more vigor
than was consistent with the safety of his present position.
His fears, however, were instantly relieved by the appearance of Boone and his party, who came running
up as rapidly as a due regard to the shelter of their persoils would permit, and, opening a brisk fire upon the
Indians, quickly compelled them to regain the shelter
of the canebrake, with the loss of several wounded, who,
96
SDION K"ENTON 7l
as usual, were carried off. The dead Indian, in the
hurry of the retreat, was abandoned, and Kenton at
last had the gratification of taking his scalp.
  Boone, as has already been mentioned, instantly retraced his steps to Boonesborough; but Kenton and
his friend Montgomery determined to proceed alone to
the Indian town, and at least obtain some recompense
for the trouble of their journey. Approaching the village with the cautious and stealthy pace of the cat or
panther, they took their stations upon the edge of the
cornfield, supposing that the Indians would enter it as
usual to gather roasting-ears. They remained here patiently all day; but did not see a single Indian, and
heard only the voices of some children, who were playing near them. Being disappointed in the hope of getting a shot, they entered the Indian town in the night,
and, stealing four good horses, made a rapid night's
march for the Ohio, which they crossed in safety, and,
on the second day afterward, reached Logan's Fort with
their booty.
  Scarcely had he returned, when Colonel Bowman ordered him to take his friend Montgomery, and another
young man named Clark, and go on a secret expedition
to an Indian town on the Little Miami, against which
the colonel meditated an expedition, and of the exact
condition of which he wished to have certain information. They instantly set out, in obedience to their orders, and reached the neighborhood of the town without
being discovered.  They examined it attentively, and
walked around the houses during the night with perfect
impunity. Thus far all had gone well; and had they
been contented to return after the due execution of their
orders, they would have avoided the heavy calamity
which awaited them.
  But, unfortunately, during their nightly promenade,
they stumbled upon a pound in which were a number
of Indian horses. The temptation was not to be resisted. They each mounted a horse; but, not satisfied
with that, they could not find it in their hearts to leave
a single animal behind them, and, as some of the horses
seemed indisposed to change masters, the affair was at97
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
tended with so much fracas that at last they were discovered. The cry ran through the village at once that
the Long Knives were stealing their horses right before
the doors of their wigwams; and old and young, squaws,
boys, and warriors, all sallied out with loud screams
to save their property from these greedy spoilers. Kenton and his friends quickly discovered that they had
overshot the mark, and that they must ride for their
lives; but, even in this extremity, they could not bring
themselves to give up a single horse which they had
haltered, and while two of them rode in front and led,
I know not how many horses, the other brought up the
rear, and, plying his whip from right to left, did not permit a single animal to lag behind.
  In this manner they dashed through the woods at a
furious rate, with the hue and - cry after them, until
their course was suddenly stopped by an impenetrable
swamp. Here, from necessity, they paused for a few
moments and listened attentively. Hearing no sounds
of pursuit, they resumed their course; and, skirting
the swamp for some distance in the vain hope of crossing it, they bent their course in a straight direction
toward the Ohio. They rode during the whole night
without resting a moment; and, halting for a few minutes at daylight, they continued their journey throughout the day, and the whole of the following night, and
by this uncommon expedition, on the morning of the
second day, they reached the northern bank of the Ohio
River.
  Crossing the river would now insure their safety;
but this was likely to prove a difficult undertaking, and
the close pursuit which they had reason to expect rendered it necessary to lose as little time as possible. The
wind was high and the river rough and boisterous. It
was determined that Kenton should cross with the
horses, while Clark and Montgomery should construct
a raft in order to transport their guns, baggage, and
ammunition to the opposite shore. The necessary preparations were soon made, and Kenton, after forcing his
horses into the river, plunged in himself and swam
by their side. In a very few minutes the high waves
SIMON KENTON.
completely overwhelmed him and forced him considerably below the horses, that stemmed the current much
more vigorously than himself.
   The horses, being thus left to themselves, turned
 about and swam again to the Ohio shore, where Ken ton was compelled to follow them. Again he forced
 them into the water; and again they returned to the
 same spot-until Kenton became so exhausted by re peated efforts as to be unable to swim. A council was
 then held and the question proposed, "What was to be
 done?" That the Indians would pursue them, was cer tain; that the horses would not, and could not be made
 to cross the river in its present state, was equally cer tain. Should they abandon their horses and cross on
 the raft, or remain with their horses and take such
 fortune as heaven should send them? The latter al ternative was unanimously adopted. Death or captivity
 might be tolerated, but the loss of so beautiful a lot
 of horses, after having worked so hard for them, was
 not to be thought of for a moment.
   As soon as it was determined that themselves and
 horses were to share the same fate, it again became
 necessary to fix upon some probable plan of saving
 them. Should they move up or down the river, or
 remain where they were?      The latter course was
 adopted. It was supposed that the wind would fall at
 sunset, and the river become sufficiently calm to admit
 of their passage;. and, as it was supposed probable that
"the Indians might be upon them before night, it was
determined to conceal the horses in a neighboring ravine, while they should take their stations in the adjoining wood. A more miserable plan could not have
been adopted. If they could not consent to sacrifice
their horses in order to save their own lives, they
should have moved either up or down the river, and
thus have preserved the distance from the Indians
which their rapidity of movement had gained.
   The Indians would have followed their trail, and be ing twenty-four hours' march behind them, could never
 have overtaken them.    But neglecting this obvious
 consideration, they stupidly sat down until sunset, ex99
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
pecting that the river would become more calm. The
day passed away in tranquillity, but at night the wind
blew harder than ever, and the water became so rough,
that even their raft would have been scarcely able to
cross. Not an instant more should have been lost, in
moving from so dangerous a post; but as if totally
infatuated, they remained where they were until morning; thus wasting twenty-four hours of most precious
time in total idleness.   In the morning, the wind
abated and the river became calm-but it was now
too late. Their horses, recollecting the difficulty of
the passage on the preceding day, had become as obstinate and heedless as their masters, and positively and
repeatedly refused to take the water.
   Finding every effort to compel them entirely unavailing, their masters at length determined to do what
ought to have been done at first. Each resolved to
mount a horse, and make the best of his way down
the river to Louisville.   Had even this resolution,
however tardily adopted, been executed with decision,
the party would probably have been saved, but after
they were mounted, instead of leaving the ground instantly, they went back upon their own trail, in the
vain effort to regain possession of the rest of their
horses, which had broken from them in the last effort
to drive them into the water. They wearied out their
good genius, and literally fell victims to their love for
horse-flesh.
   They had scarcely ridden one hundred yards (Kenton
in the center, the others upon the flanks, with an interval of two hundred yards between them), when Kenton
heard a loud halloo, apparently coming from the spot
which they had just left. Instead of getting out of
the way as fast as possible, and trusting to the speed of
his horse, and the thickness of the wood for safety, he
put the last capping-stone to his imprudence, and dismounting, walked leisurely back to meet his pursuers,
and thus give them as little trouble as possible. He
quickly beheld three Indians, and one white man, all
well mounted. Wishing to give the alarm to his companions, he raised his rifle to his shoulder, took a
100
SIMON KENTO_                   10
steady aim at the breast of the foremost Indian, and
drew the trigger. His gun had become wet on the raft,
and flashed.
  The enemy were instantly alarmed, and dashed at
him. Now, at last, when flight could be of no service,
Kenton betook himself' to his heels, and was pursued
by four horsemen at full speed. He instantly directed
his steps to the thickest part of the wood, where there
was much fallen timber and a rank growth of underwood, and had succeeded, as he thought, in baffling his
pursuers, when, just as he wag leaving the fallen timber and entering the open wood, an Indian on horseback galloped round the corner of the wood, and approached him so rapidly as to render flight useless.
The horseman rode up, holding out his hand and calling out, " Brother! brother!" in a tone of great affection. Kenton observes that if his gun would have
made fire, he would have " brothered " him to his heart's
content, but being totally unarmed, he called out that
he would surrender if they would give him quarter and
good treatment.
  Promises were cheap with the Indian, and he
showered them out by the dozen, continuing all the
while to advance with extended hands and a writhing
grin upon his countenance, which was intended for a
smile of courtesy. Seizing Kenton's hand, he grasped
it with violence. Kenton, not liking the manner of
his captor, raised his gun to knock him down, when
an Indian who had followed him closely through the
brushwood, instantly sprung upon his back, and pinioned his arms to his side. The one who had just approached him, then seized him by the hair and shook
him until his teeth rattled, while the rest of the party
coming up, they all fell upon Kenton with their
tongues and ramrods, until he thought they would
scold or beat him to death. They were the owners of
the horses which he had carried off, and now took ample revenge for the loss of their property. At every
stroke of their ramrods over his head (and they were
neither few nor far between), they would repeat, in a
tone of strong indignation, "Steal Indian hoss! hey!"
101
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
  Their attention, however, was soon directed to AMontgomery, who, having heard the noise attending Kenton's capture, very gallantly hastened up to his assistance; while Clark very prudently consulted his own
safety in betaking himself to his heels, leaving his unfortunate companions to shift for themselves. Montgomery halted within gunshot, and appeared busy with
the pan of his gun, as if preparing to fire. Two Indians instantly sprung off in pursuit of him, while the
rest attended to Kenton. In a few minutes Kenton
heard the crack of two rifles in quick succession, followed by a hallo,, which announced the fate of his
friend.  The Indians quickly returned, waving the
bloody scalp of Montgomery, and with countenances and
gestufes which menaced him with a similar fate.
  They then proceeded to secure their prisoner. They
first compelled him to lie upon his back, and stretched
out his arms to their full length. They then passed a
stout stick at right angles across his breast, to each extremity of which his wrists were fastened by thongs
made of Buffalo's hide. Stakes were then driven into
the earth near his feet, to which they were fastened in
a similar manner. A halter was then tied around his
neck and fastened to a sapling which grew near; and,
finally, a strong rope was passed under his belly, lashed
strongly to the pole which lay transversely upon his
breast, and finally wrapped around his arms at the elbows in such a manner as to pinion them to the pole
with a painf'ul violence, and render him literally incapable of moving hand, foot, or head in the slightest
manner.
   During the whole of this severe operation, neither
their tongues nor hands were by any means idle. They
cuffed him from time to time with great heartiness,
until his ears rang again; and abused him for a "tie'!
a hoss steal! a rascal! " and finally, for a "d-  d
white man! " I may here observe that all the western
Indians had picked up a good many English words,
particularly our oaths, which, from the frequency with
which they were used by our hunters and traders, they
probably looked upon as the very root and foundation
rIMON KENTON.
of the English language. Kenton remained in this
painful attitude throughout the night, looking forward
to certain death, and most probably torture, as soon as
he should reach their towns. Their rage against him
seemed to increase, rather than abate from indulgence,
and in the morning it displayed itself in a form at once
ludicrous and cruel.
  Among the horses which Kenton had taken, and
which their original owners had now recovered, was a
fine but wild young colt, totally unbroken, and with all
his honors of mane and tail undocked. Upon him Kenton was mounted, without saddle or bridle, with his
hands tied behind him and his feet fastened under the
horse's belly. The country was rough and bushy, and
Kenton had no means of protecting his face from the
brambles through which it was expected that the colt
would dash. As soon as the rider was firmly fastened to
his back, the colt was turned loose, with a sudden lash;
but, after executing a few curvets and caprioles, to the
great distress of his rider, but to the infinite amusement
of the Indians, he appeared to take compassion on his
rider, and, falling into a line with the other horses,
avoided the brambles entirely, and went on very well.
In this manner he rode through the day. At night he
was taken from the horse and confined as before.
  On the third day they came within a few miles of
Chillicothe. Here the party halted and dispatched a
messenger to inform the village of their arrival, in order, I suppose, to give them time to prepare for his reception. In a short time, Blackfish, one of their chiefs,
arrived, and, regarding Kenton with a stern countenance,
thundered out, in very good English, " You have been
stealing horses?"  "Yes, sir."  "Did Captain Boone
tell you to steal our horses? " " No, sir; I did it of my
own accord." This frank confession was too irritating
to be borne. Blackfish made no reply; but, brandishing a hickory switch which he held in his hand, he applied it so briskly to Kenton's naked back and shoulders
as to bring the blood freely and occasion acute pain.
   Thus, alternately beaten and scolded, he marched on
to the village. At the distance of a mile from Chilli         11
103
0 I4WESTERN AD VENTUR E.
cothe, he saw every inhabitant of the town, men, women,
and children, running out to feast their eyes with a
view of the prisoner. Every individual, down to the
smallest child, appeared in a paroxysm of rage. They
whooped, they yelled, they hooted, they clapped their
hands, and poured upon him a flood of abuse to which
all that he had yet received was gentleness and civility.
With loud cries they demanded that their prisoner
should be tied to the stake. The hint was instantly
complied with.
  A stake was quickly fastened into the ground. The
remnant of Kenton's shirt and breeches were torn from
his person (the squaws officiating with great dexterity
in both operations); and his hands, being tied together
and raised above his head, were fastened to the top of
the stake. The whole party then danced around him
until midnight, yelling and screaming in their usual
frantic manner, striking him with switches, and slapping him with the palms of their hands. He expected
every moment to undergo the torture of fire; but that
was reserved for another time. They wished to prolong the pleasure of tormenting him as much as possible, and, after having caused him to anticipate the bitterness of death until a late hour of the night, they released him from the stake and conveyed him to the
village.
  Early in the morning he beheld the scalp of Montgomery, stretched upon a hoop and drying in the air,
before the door of one of their principal houses. He was
quickly led out and ordered to run the gauntlet. A
row of boys, women, and men extended to the distance
of a quarter of a mile. At the starting-place stood two
grim-looking warriors, with butcher-knives in their
hands; at the extremity of the line was an Indian, beating a drum; and a few paces beyond the drum was the
door of the council-house. Clubs, switches, hoe-handles,
and tomahawks were brandished along the whole line,
causing the sweat involuntarily to stream from his
pores at the idea of the discipline which his naked skin
was to receive during the race.
  The moment for starting arrived; the great drum at
104
SIMON KENTON.
the door of the council-house was struck, and Kenton
sprung forward in the race. A scene, precisely resembling a splendid picture in the " Last of the Mohicans,"
now took place. Kenton avoided the row of his enemies, and, turning to the east, drew the whole party in
pursuit of him. He doubled several times with great
activity, and at length, observing an opening, he darted
through it, and pressed forward to the council-house
with a rapidity which left his pursuers far behind. One
or two of the Indians succeeded in throwing themselves
between him and the goal, and from these alone he received a few blows, but was much less injured than he
could at first have supposed possible.
  As soon as the race was over, a council was held, in
order to determine whether he should be burnt to death
on the spot or carried round to the other villages and
exhibited to every tribe. The arbiters of his fate sat in
a circle on the floor of the council-house, while the unhappy prisoner, naked and bound, was committed to the
care of a guard in the open air. The deliberation commenced. Each warrior sat in silence, while a large warclub was passed round the circle. Those who were oFpposed to burning the prisoner on the spot were to pass
the club in silence to the next warrior; those in favor
of burning were to strike the earth violently with the
club before passing it.
  A teller was appointed to count the votes. This dignitary quickly reported that the opposition had prevailed; that his execution was suspended for the present, and that it was determined to take him to an Indian town on Mad River, called Waughcotomoco. His
fate was quickly announced to him by a renegade white
man, who aWted as interpreter. Kenton felt rejoiced at
the issue; but naturally became anxious to know what
was in reserve for him at Waughcotomoco. Hle accordingly asked the white man, " What the Indians intended
to do with him upon reaching the appointed place?"
"Burn you, G-      d d-    n you! " was the ferocious
reply. He asked no further question, and the scowling
interpreter walked away.
  Instantly preparations were made for his departure,
105
vi BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTH'OR.

ing to a generous emulation. And there was a larger number
of highly-gifted and ambitious youths in the Academy, at that
period, than at any other similar institution in the VVest, as has
been abundantly shown by their distinguished records in after
life.

It‘was in the midst of such influences, that young McClung
may be said to have commenced his career as a student. He
was retiring in his nature, quiet, unobtrusive, meditative in his
habits, and select in his companionships; and noted, even at
that early day, for his long, solitary walks. His application to
his studies was close and indefatigable; and he soon was re-
garded as one of the most thorough and accurate scholars in that
bright circle of young intellects.

In the spring of 1820, a revival of religion occurred at the
Pisgah Presbyterian meeting—house,which brought within its
influence some of the most promising boys in the Acaden1y—
young MeClung in the number. Shortly after, a malignant fe-
ver prevailed amongst the students, resulting fatally in many
cases. He suffered a severe attack, but after a long, hard strug-
gle, his strong constitution triumphed, and he was partially re-
stored to health. But he never recovered from the fearful effects
of heavy doses of calomel which were administered to him, ac-
cording to the medical practice of that day. Thus, when he left
the school, his mind was already richly furnished for one so
young, his constitution was permanently impaired, and he had
dedicated his life to his Savior.

In his 18th year, he was enrolled as a student in the Theolog-
ical Seminary at Princeton. His application to his studies was
so intense, that his frail health yielded to the strain, and he was
forced to return to Kentucky in 1824. There, as his health re-
vived, he continued his Theological studies.

He was married, on the 25th of November, 1825, to Miss Eliza
Johnston, of Washington, Ky., a daughter of Dr. John Johnston,
formerly of Connecticut, and a sister of Hon. Josiah Stoddard
Johnston, afterward Senator from Louisiana, and of Gen. Albert
Sidney Johnston. She was one of the gentlest, purest, most
unselfish of women, refined and elevated by a deep and fervent
piety.

In 1828, he was licensed by the Ebenezer Presbytery to preach
the Gospel. At this period of his life his reputation for scholar-
ship was very high. His reading, independent of his Theolog-
ical studies, had been very extensive in all the great departments

WESTERN AD VENT URE.
and, to his great joy as well as astonishment, his clothes
were restored to him and he was permitted to remain
unbound. Thanks to the ferocious intimation of the
interpreter, he was aware of the fate in reserve for him,
and secretly determined that he would never reach
Waughcotomoco alive if it was possible to avoid it.
Their route lay through an unpruned forest, abounding
in thickets and undergrowth. Unbound as he was, it
would not be impossible to escape from the hands of
his conductors; and if he could once enter the thickets,
he thought that he might be enabled to baffle his pursuers. At the worst, he could only be retaken; and
the fire would burn no hotter after an attempt to escape than before. During the whole of their march
he remained abstracted and silent, often meditating an
effort for liberty and as often shrinking from the peril
of the attempt.
  At length he was aroused from his reverie by the
Indians firing off their guns, and raising the shrill
scalp halloo. The signal was soon answered, and the
deep roll of a drum was heard far in front, announcing
to the unhappy prisoner that they were approaching
an Indian town, where the gauntlet certainly, and perhaps the stake, awaited him. The idea of a repetition
of the dreadful scenes which he had already encountered, completely banished the indecision which had
hitherto withheld him, and, with a sudden and startling cry, he sprung into the bushes, and fled with the
speed of a wild deer. The pursuit was instant and
keen; some on foot, some on horseback. But he was
flying for his life; the stake and the hot iron, and the
burning splinters were before his eyes, and he soon distanced the swiftest hunter that pursued him.
  But fate was against him at every turn. Thinking
only of the enemy behind, he forgot that there might
also be enemies before; and, before he was aware of
what he had done, he found that he had plunged into
the center of a fresh party of horsemen, who had sallied
from the town at the firing of the guns, and happened,
unfortunately, to stumble upon the poor prisoner, now
making a last effort for freedom. His heart sunk at
SIMON KENTON.
once from the ardor of hope to the very pit of despair,
and he was again haltered and driven before them to
town like an ox to the slaughter-house.
  Upon reaching the village (Pickaway), he was fastened to a stake, near the door of the council-house,
and the warriors again assembled in debate. In a short
time they issued from the council-house, and, surrounding him, they danced, yelled, etc., for several hours, giving him once more a foretaste of the bitterness of death.
On the following morning their journey Was continued,
but the Indians had now become watchful, and gave
him no opportunity of even attempting an escape. On
the second day he arrived at Waughcotomoco. Here he
was again compelled to run the gauntlet, in which he
was severely hurt; and, immediately after this ceremony, he was taken to the council-house, and all the
warriors once more assembled to determine his fate.
  He sat silent and dejected upon the floor of the cabin,
awaiting the moment which was to deliver him to the
stake, when the door of the council-house opened, and
Simon Girty, James Girty, John Ward, and an Indian
came in with a woman (Mrs. Mary Kennedy) as a
prisoner, together with seven children and seven scalps.
Kenton was instantly removed from the council-house,
and the deliberations of the assembly were protracted
to a very late hour, in consequence of the arrival of
the last-named party with a fresh drove of prisoners.
  At length he was again summoned to attend the
council-house, being informed that his fate was decided.
Regarding the mandate as a mere prelude to the stake
and fire, which he knew was intended for him, he
obeyed it with the calm despair which had now succeeded the burning anxiety of the last few days. Upon
entering the council-house, he was greeted with a savage scowl, which, if he had still cherished a spark of
hope, would have completely extinguished it. Simon
Girty threw a blanket upon the floor, and harshly
ordered him to take a seat upon it. The order was
not immediately complied with, and Girty, impatiently
seizing his arm, jerked him roughly upon the blanket,
and pulled him down upon it.
107
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
  In the same rough and menacing tone, Girtv then
interrogated him  as to the condition of Kentucky.
"How many men are there in Kentucky?"         "It is
impossible for me to answer that question," replied
Kenton, "but I can tell you the number of officers,
and their respective ranks; you can then judge for
yourself." "Do you know William Stewart?" " Perfectly well; he is an old and intimate acquaintance."
" What is your own name?" " Simon Butler!" replied
Kenton. Never did the annunciation of a name produce a more powerful effect. Girty and Kenton (then
bearing the name of Butler) had served as spies, together, in Dunmore's expedition. The former had not
then abandoned the society of the whites for that of
the savages, and had become warmly attached to Kenton dtring the short period of their services together.
As soon as he heard the name, he became strongly
agitated; and, springing from his seat, he threw his
arms around Kenton's neck, and embraced him with
much emotion.
  Then turning to the assembled warriors, who remained astonished spectators of this extraordinary
scene, he addressed them in a short speech, which the
deep earnestness of his tone, and. the energy of his
gesture, rendered eloquent. He informed them that
the prisoner, whom  they had just condemned to the
stake, was his ancient comrade and bosomn friend: that
they had traveled the same war-path, slept upon the
same blanket, and dwelt in the same wigwam. He entreated them to have compassion upon his feelings; to
spare him the agony of witnessing the torture of an old
friend by the hands of his adopted brothers; and not
to refuse so trifling a favor, as the life of a white man,
to the earnest intercession of one who had proved, by
three years' faithful service, that he was sincerely and
zealously devoted to the cause of the Indians.
  The speech was listened to in unbroken silence. As
soon as he had finished, several chiefs expressed their
approbation by a deep guttural interjection, while
others were equally as forward in making known their
objections to the proposal. They urged that his fate
108
SIMON KENTON.
had already been determined in a large and solemn
council, and that they would be acting like squaws to
change their mind every hour. They insisted upon the
flagrant misdemeanors of Kenton; that he had not
only stolen their horses, but had flashed his gun at one
of their young men; that it was in vain to suppose
that so bad a man could ever become an Indian at
heart, like their brother Girty; that the Kentuckians
were all alike, very bad people, and ought to be killed
as fast as they were taken; and finally, they observed,
that many of their people had come from a distance
solely to assist at the torture of the prisoner, and
pathetically painted the disappointment and chagrin
with which they would hear that all their trouble had
been for nothing.
  Girty listened, with obvious impatience, to the young
warriors who had so ably argued against a reprieve,
and starting to his feet as soon as the others had concluded, he urged his former request with great earnestness. He briefly but strongly recapitulated his own
services, and the many and weighty instances of attachment which he had given. He asked if lie could be
suspected of partiality to the whites? When had he
ever before interceded for any of that hated race?
Had he not brought seven scalps home with him from
the last expedition? And had he not submitted seven
white prisoners that very evening to their discretion?
Had he expressed a wish that a single one of the captives should be saved? This was his first and should
be his last request: for if they refused to him what
was never refused to the intercession of one of their
natural chiefs, he would look upon himself as disgraced
in their eyes, and considered as unworthy of confidence.
Which of their own natural warriors had been more
zealous than himself? From what expedition had he
ever shrunk? What white man had ever seen his
back? Whose tomahawk had been bloodier than his?
He would say no more. He asked it as a first and last
favor-as an evidence that they approved of his zeal
and fidelity-that the life of his bosom friend might be
spared. Fresh speakers arose upon each side, and the
109
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
debate was carried on, for an hour and a half, with
great heat and energy.
  During the whole of this time, Kenton's feelings may
readily be imagined. He could not understand a syllable of what was said. He saw that Girty spoke with
deep earnestness, and that the eyes of the assembly were
often turned upon himself, with various expressions. He
felt satisfied that his friend was pleading for his life,
and that he was violently opposed by a large part of
the council.   At length the war-club was produced,
and the final vote taken. Kenton watched its progress
with thrilling emotion, which yielded to the most rapturous delight as he perceived that those who struck
the floor of the council-house were decidedly inferior
in number to those who passed it in silence. Having
thus succeeded in his benevolent purpose, Girty lost no
time in attending to the comfort of his friend. He led
him into his own wigwam, and from his own store gave
him a pair of moccasins and leggins, a breech-cloth, a
hat, a coat, a handkerchief for his neck, and another
for his head.
  The whole of this remarkable scene is in the highest
degree honorable to Girty, and is in striking contrast
to most of his conduct after his union with the Indians.
No man can be completely hardened, and no character
is at all times the same. Girty had been deeply offended
with the whites; and knowing that his desertion to the
Indians had been universally and severely reprobated,
and that he himself was regarded with detestation by
his former countrymen, he seems to have raged against
them, from these causes, with a fury which resembled
rather the paroxysm of a maniac than the deliberate
cruelty of a naturally ferocious temper. Fierce censure
never reclaims, but rather drives to still greater extremities; and this is the reason that renegadoes are so
much fiercer than natural foes-and when females fall,
they fall irretrievably.
   For the space of three weeks, Kenton lived in perfect
tranquillity. Girty's kindness was uniform and indefatigable. He introduced Kenton to his own family,
and accompanied him to the wigwams of the principal
SIMON KENTON.
chiefs, who seemed all at once to have turned from the
extremity of rage to the utmost kindness and cordiality.
Fortune, however, seemed to have selected him for her
football, and to have snatched him from the frying-pan
only to throw him into the fire. About twenty days
after his most providential deliverance from the stake,
he was walking in company with Girty and an Indian
named Redpole, when another Indian came from the
village toward them, uttering repeatedly a whoop of
peculiar intonation. Girty instantly told Kenton that
it was the distress halloo, and that they must all go instantly to the council-house. Kenton's heart involuntarily fluttered at the intelligence, for he dreaded all
whoops, and hated all council-houses, firmly believing
that neither boded him any good. Nothing, however,
could be done to avoid whatever fate awaited him, and
he sadly accompanied Girty and Redpole back to the
village.
  Upon approaching the Indian who had hallooed, Girty
and Redpole shook hands with him. Kenton likewise
offered his hand, but the Indian refused to take it, at
the same time scowling upon him ominously. This
took place within a few paces of the door of the councilhouse. Upon entering, they saw that the house was
unusually full. Many chiefs and warriors from the
distant towns were present; and their countenances
were grave, severe, and forbidding. Girty, Redpole,
and Kenton, walked around, offering their hands successively to each warrior. The hands of the two first
were cordially received; but when poor Kenton anxiously offered his hand to the first warrior, it was
rejected with the same scowling eye as before. He
passed on to the second, but was still rejected; he persevered, however, until his hand had been refused by
the first six; when, sinking into despondence, he turned
off and stood apart from the rest.
  The debate quickly commenced.       Kenton looked
eagerly toward Gifty, as his last and only hope. His
friend looked anxious and distressed. The chiefs from
a distance arose one after another, and spoke in a firm
and indignant tone, often looking at Kenton with an
111
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
eye of death. Girty did not desert him, but his eloquence appeared wasted upon the distant chiefs. After
a warm debate, he turned to Kenton and said, " Well,
my friend, you must die! " One of the stranger chiefs
instantly seized him by the collar, and the others surrounding him, he was strongly pinioned, committed to
a guard, and instantly marched off.
  His guard were on horseback, while the prisoner was
driven before them on foot, with a long rope round his
neck, the other end of which was held by one of the
guard. In this mauner they had marched about two
and a half miles, when Girty passed them on horseback,
informing Kenton that he had friends at the next
village, with whose aid he hoped to be able to do
something for him. Girty passed on to the town, but
finding that nothing could be done, he would not see
his friend again, but returned to Waughcotomoco by
a different route.
  They passed through the village without halting, and,
at the distance of two and a half miles beyond it, Kenton had again an opportunity of witnessing the fierce
hate with which these children of nature regard an enemy. At the distance of a few paces from the road a
squaw was busily engaged in chopping wood, while her
lord and master was sitting on a log, smoking his pipe
and directing her labors with the indolent indifference
common to the natives when not under the influence of
some exciting passion. The sight of Kenton, however,
roused him to fury. He hastily sprang up, with a sudden yell, snatched the ax from the squaw, and, rushing
upon the prisoner so rapidly as to give him no opportunity of escape, dealt him a blow with the ax which
cut through his shoulder, breaking the bone and almost
severing the arm from his body. He would instantly
have repeated the blow, had not Kenton's conductors
interfered and protected him, severely reprimanding the
Indian for attempting to rob them of the amusement of
torturing the prisoner at -
  They soon reached a large village upon the head-waters of Scioto, where Kenton, for the first time, beheld
the celebrated Mingo chief, Logan, so honorably menSIMON KENTON.
tioned in.Mr. Jefferson's "Notes on Virginia." Logan
walked gravely up to the place where Kenton stood, and
the following short conversation ensued: " Well, young
man, these young men seem very mad at you!" " Yes,
sir, they certainly are." " Well, do n't be disheartened,
I am a great chief. You are to go to Sandusky; they
speak of burning you there, but I will send two runners
to-morrow to speak good for you." Logan's form was
striking and manly, his countenance calm and noble,
and he spoke the English language with fluency and
correctness. Kenton's spirits instantly rose at the
address of the benevolent chief, and he once more
looked upon himself as providentially rescued from the
stake.
  On the following morning two runners were despatched to Sandusky, as the chief had promised, and
until their return Kenton was kindly treated, being permitted to spend much of his time with Logan, who conversed with him freely and in the most friendly manner.
In the evening the two runners returned, and were
closeted with Logan. Kenton felt the most burning
anxiety to know what was the result of their mission,
but Logan did not visit him again until the next morning.   He then walked up to him, accompanied by
Kenton's guards, and, giving him a piece of bread, told
him that he was instantly to be carried to Sandusky;
and, without uttering another word, turned upon his
heel and left him.
  Again Kenton's spirits sank. From Logan's manner
he supposed that his intercession had been unavailing,
and that Sandusky was destined to be the scene of his
final suffering. This appears to have been the truth.
But fortune, who, to use Lord Lovat's expression, had
been playing at cat and mouse with him for the last
month, had selected Sandusky for the display of her
strange and capricious power. He was driven into the
town as usual, and was to have been burnt on the following morning, when an Indian agent, named Drewyer,
interposed, and once more rescued him from the stake.
He was anxious to obtain intelligence for the British
commandant at Detroit, and so earnestly insisted upon
113
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
Kenton's being delivered up to him, that the Indians
at length consented, upon the express condition that,
after the required information had been obtained, he
should again be placed at their discretion. To this
Drewyer consented, and without further difficulty Kenton was transferred to his hands. Drewyer lost no rime
in removing him to Detroit.
  On the road he informed Kenton of the condition
upon which he had obtained possession of his person,
assuring him, however, that no consideration should induce him to abandon a prisoner to the mercy of such
wretches. Having dwelt at some length upon the generosity of his own disposition, and having sufficiently
magnified the service which he had just rendered him,
he began, at length, to cross-question Kenton as to the
force and condition of Kentucky, and particularly as to
the number of men at Fort McIntosh. Kenton very
candidly declared his inability to aliswer either question,
observing that he was merely a private, and by no
means acquainted with matters of an enlarged and general import; that his great business had heretofore been
to endeavor to take care of himself, which he had found
a work of no small difficulty. Drewyer replied that he
believed him, and from that time Kenton was troubled
with no more questions.
  His condition at Detroit was not unpleasant. He was
compelled to report himself every morning to an English officer, and was restricted to certain boundaries
through the day, but in other respects he scarcely felt
that he was a prisoner. His battered body and broken
arm were quickly repaired, and his emaciated limbs
were again clothed, with a proper proportion of flesh.
He remained in this state of easy restraint from October,
1777, until June, 1778, when he meditated an escape.
There was no difficulty in leaving Detroit, but he would
be compelled to traverse a wild,rness of more than two
hundred miles, abounding with hostile Indians, and affording no means of subsistence beyond the wild game,
which could not be killed without a gun. In addition
to this, he would certainly be pursued, and, if retaken
by the Indians, he might expect a repetition of all that
SIMON KENTON.
he had undergone before, without the prospect of a second interposition on the part of the English.
  These considerations deterred him for some time from
the attempt, but at length his impatience became uncontrollable, and he determined to escape, or perish in the
attempt. He took his measures with equal secrecy and
foresight. He cautiously sounded two young Kentuckians then at Detroit, who had been taken with Boone at
the Blue Licks, and had been purchased by the British.
He found them as impatient as himself of captivity, and
resolute to accompany him. Charging them not to
breathe a syllable of their design to any other prisoners,
he busied himself for several days in making the necessary preparations. It was absolutely necessary that
they should be provided with arms, both for the sake of
repelling attack and procuring the means of subsistence; and, at the same time, it was very difficult to obtain them without the knowledge of the British commandant.
  By patiently waiting their oppoitunity, however, all
these preliminary difficulties were overcome. Kenton
formed a close friendship with two Indian hunters, deluged them with rum, and bought their guns for a mere
trifle. After carefully hiding them in the woods, he returned to Detroit, and managed to procure another rifle,
together with powder and balls, from a Mr. and Mrs.
Edgar, citizens of the town. They then appointed a
night for the attempt, and agreed upon a place of rendezvous. All things turned out prosperously. They
met at the time and place appointed without discovery, and, taking a circuitous route, avoided pursuit;
and, traveling only during the night, they at length
arrived safely at Louisville, after a march of thirty
days.
  Thus terminated one of the most remarkable adventures in the whole range of Western history. A fatalist
would recognize the hand of destiny in every stage of
its progress. In the infatuation with which Kenton refused to adopt proper measures for his safety while such
were practicable; in the persevering obstinacy with
which he remained upon the Ohio shore until flight be115
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR. vii

of classical and modern thought. He was a critical scholar in _

Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and could quote largely and with
fluency from the originals of the leading authors. So it was in
history, philosophy, poetry, and belles-lettres generally. The
most gifted and eloquent of all his fellow-students stated, in
conversation, years afterward, that McClung was superior to all
whom he had ever known, in the exactness and scope of his
studies, and the clearness and power with which he grasped and
held all that he read; that every page was, as it were, printed on
his brain, as he could not only state substantially the contents
of a book, but quote the language by page and line.

The first efforts of the young preacher produced a great sensa-
tion in Kentucky. His thought was original, his diction ornate,
his manner dignified and impressive; he was bold, logical, elo-
quent, enthusiastic, and promised soon to rank with the most
brilliant and powerful orators of the pulpit. During the brief
period of two or three years, he preached in various sections of
the State, and crowded assemblies greeted him wherever he
Went. But on the very threshold of this opening future of high
promise and wide usefulness, in the midst of popular commenda-
tions and rapidly-rising reputation, he paused; his faith wavered;
the eloquent lips were silent. His convictions of the truth of
Scripture had become disturbed, and he was too conscientious
to preach what he doubted in his heart. He promptly stated
his condition to Presbytery, and asked to be relieved. In tlie
discussion which ensued, a motion was made to goto the extent
of expulsion. The Rev. John Todd, a noble and venerable sol-
dier of the cross, rose and said : “ Brethren, I hope no such action
will be taken. Brother l\lcClung is honest; he is a seeker after
truth, but undera cloud; give him time; relieve him as he asks;
do nothing more. The light will again dawn upon him, and he
will surely return.” Thus it was settled.

This was in 1831. In 1832, at the instance of his life-long
friend, Lewis Collins, Esq., editor of the Maysville Eagle, he
wrote the “Sketches of Western Adventure.” They were published
in book-form by‘ Mr. Collins, became very popular, and passed
through many editions. These sketches were dashed off rap-
idly, but are vivid, graphic, and truthful delineations of wild
pioneer life, and the fierce struggles of border war. They are
faithful pictures of the primeval forests of the West, of the sav-
age chiefs and tribes that roamed them, and of the heroic, iri-
domitable adventurers who conquered both.

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
came useless; and afterward, in that remarkable succession of accidents by which, without the least exertion on his part, he was alternately tantalized with a
prospect of safety, and then plunged again into the
deepest despair. He was eight times exposed to the
gauntlet, three times tied to the stake, and as often
thought himself upon the eve of a terrible death.
  All the sentences passed upon him, whether of mercy
or condemnation, seemed to have been only pronounced
in one council in order to be reversed in another. Every
friend that Providence raised up in his favor was immediately followed by some enemy, who unexpectedly interposed, and turned his short glimpse of sunshine into
deeper darkness than ever. For three weeks he was
seesawing between life and death, and during the whole
time he was perfectly passive.  No wisdom, or foresight, or exertion, could have saved him. Fortune
fought his battle from first to last, and seemed determined to permit nothing else to interfere. Scarcely
had he reached Kentucky, when he embarked in a new
enterprise.
  Colonel George Rogers Clark had projected an expedition against the hostile posts of Vincennes and Kaskaskia, and invited all Kentuckians, who had leisure
and inclination, to join him. Kenton instantly repaired
to his standard, and shared in the hardship and glory
of one of the boldest, most arduous, and successful expeditions which have ever graced the American arms.
The results of the campaign are well known. Secrecy
and celerity were eminently combined in it, and Clark
shared with the common soldier in encountering every
fatigue and braving every danger. Kenton, as usual,
acted as a spy, and was eminently serviceable; but no
incident occurred of sufficient importance to obtain a
place in these sketches.
  From that time until the close of the Indian war in
the West, Kenton was actively employed, generally in a
frontier station, and occasionally in serious expeditions.
He accompanied Edwards in his abortive expedition
against the Indian towns in 1785, and shared in Wayne's
decisive campaign of 1794.
116
STIMON IKENTON.
  McDonald, in his extended sketch of Kenton, informs
us that he settled, about the year 1802, in Urbana,
Champaign County, Ohio, remaining there for some
years; was elected a brigadier-general of the militia,
and in 1810 became a member of the Methodist Church.
In 1813, when Governor Shelby reached that place, at
the head of the Kentucky troops, Kenton joined the
army as a private (but a privileged member of the
governor's military family), and was present at the
glorious battle of the Moravian Town, where ended
his military career. About 1820, he moved to the head
of Mad River, in Logan County, Ohio, near to the site
of Old Wapatomika (now Zanesville), where he died,
in April, 1836, being nearly eighty-one years old.
  "General Kenton was of fair complexion, six feet
one inch in height. He stood and walked very erect;
and, in the prime of life, weighed about one hundred
and ninety. He was never inclined to be corpulent, although of sufficient size to form a graceful person. He
had a soft, tremulous voice, very pleasing to the hearer,
and laughing, gray eyes, which appeared to fascinate
the beholder. He was a pleasant, good-humored, and
obliging companion. When excited or provoked to
anger (which was seldom the case) the fiery glance of
his eye would almost curdle the blood of those with
whom he came in contact. In his dealings, he was perfectly honest; his confidence in man, and his credulity
were such, that the same man might cheat him twenty
times, and, if he professed friendship, he might cheat
him still."
  Such was Simon Kenton, to whose memory be it said,
that, "if a long life of hardy adventures-with a courage that never quailed at danger, and patriotism that
never ceased its exertion in his country's cause-deserves the title of illustrious, then stands the name of
General Kenton in the first rank of worthies."
117
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
                CHAPTER IV.
A MONG the earliest and most respectable of the emi    grants to Kentucky, was General BENJAMIN LOGAN.
His father was an Irishman, who had left his own country early in the eighteenth century, and settled in Pennsylvania, from which he subsequently removed to Augusta County, Virginia. Here he shortly afterward died.
Young Logan, as the eldest son, was entitled, by the
laws of Virginia, to the whole of the landed property,
(his father having died intestate). He refused, however, to avail himself of this circumstance, and, as the
farm upon which the family resided was too small to
admit of a division, he caused it to be sold, and the
money to be distributed among his brothers and sisters,
reserving a portion lbr his mother. At the age of twenty-one, he removed from Augusta County to the banks
of the Holston, where, shortly afterward, he purchased
a farm and married.
  In 1774 he accompanied Dunmore in his expedition,
probably as a private. In 1775, he removed to Kentucky, and soon became particularly distinguished. His
person was striking and manly, his hair and complexion
very dark, his eye keen and penetrating, his countenance grave, thonlghtful, and expressive of a firmnness,
probity, and intelligence, which were eminently displayed throudhout his life. His education was very
imperfect, and confined, we believe, simply, to the arts
of reading and writing.   Having remained in Kentucky, in a very exposed situation, until the spring of
1776, he returned for his family, and brought them out
to a small settlement, called Logan's Fort, not far from
Harrodsburgh. The Indians during this summer were
so numerous and'daring in their excursions, that
                BENJAMIN LOGAN.                  119
Logan was compelled to remove his wife and family
for safety to Harrodsburgh, while he himself remained
at his cabins and cultivated a crop of corn.
  In the spring of 1777, his wife returned to Logan's
Fort; and several settlers having joined him, he determined to maintain himself there at all risk. His courage was soon put to the test. On the morning of the
twentieth of May, a few days after his wife had rejoined
him, the women were milking the cows at the gate of
the little fort, and some of the garrison attending them,
when a party of Indians appeared and fired upon them.
One man was shot dead, and two more wounded, one
of them mortally. The whole party, including one of
the wounded men, instantly ran into the fort and closed
the gate. The enemy quickly showed themselves upon
the edge of a canebrake, within close rifle-shot of the
gate, and seemed numerous and determined. Having
a moment's leisure to look around, they beheld a spectacle which awakened the most lively interest and compassion.
  A man named Harrison had been severely wounded,
and still lay near the spot where he had fallen, within
full view both of the garrison and the enemy. The
poor fellow was, at intervals, endeavoring to crawl in
the direction of the fort, and had succeeded in reaching a cluster of bushes, which, however, were too thin
to shelter his person from the enemy. His wife and
family were in the fort, and in deep distress at his situation. The enemy undoubtedly forebore to fire upon
him, from the supposition that some of the garrison
would attempt to save him, in which case they held
themselves in readiness to fire upon them from the canebrake. The case was a very trying one. It seemed
impossible to save him without sacrificing the lives of
several of the garrison, and their numbers already were
far too few for an effectual defense, having originally
amounted only to fifteen men, three of whom had already been put hors de combat.
  Yet the spectacle was so moving, and the lamentation of his family so distressing, that it seemed equally
impossible not to make an effort to relieve him.
          12
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
Logan endeavored to persuade some of his men to accompany him in a sally, but so evident and appalling
was the danger, that all at first refused; one Herculean
fellow observing that he was a "weakly man," and another declaring that he was sorry for Harrison, " but
that the skin was closer than the shirt." At length
John Martin collected his courage, and declared his
willingness to accompany Logan, saying, that " he could
only die once, and that he was as ready now as he ever
would be." The two men opened the gate and started
upon their forlorn expedition, Logan leading the way.
  They had not advanced five steps, when Harrison,
perceiving them, made a vigorous effort to rise, upon
which Martin, supposing him able to help himself, immediately sprung back within the gate.  Harrison's
strength almost, instantly failed, and he fell at full
length upon the grass. Logan paused a moment after
tl~e desertion of Martin, then suddenly sprung forward
to the spot where Harrison lay, rushing through a tremendous shower of rifle-balls which was poured upon
him from every spot around the fort capable of covering an Indian. Seizing the wounded man in his arms,
he ran with him to the fort, through the same heavy
fire, and entered it unhurt, although the gate and picketing near him were riddled with balls, and his hat and
clothes pierced in several places.
  The fort was now vigorously assailed in the Indian
manner, and as vigorously defended by the garrison.
The women were all employed in molding bullets,
while the men were constantly at their posts. The
weakness of the garrison was not their only grievance.
A distressing scarcity of ammunition prevailed, and no
supply could be procured nearer than Holston. But
how was it to be obtained? The fort was closely blockaded, the Indians were swarming in the woods, and
chances were sadly against the probability of the safe
passage of any courier through so many dangers! Under these circumstances, Logan determined to take the
dangerous office upon himself. After encouraging the
men as well as he could, with the prospect of a safe and
speedy return, he took advantage of a dark night, and
120
BENJA3MIN LOGAN.
crawled through the Indian encampment without discovery.
  Shunning the ordinary route through Cumberland
Gap, he arrived at Holston by by-paths which no white
man had yet trodden; through canebrakes and thickets; over tremendous cliffs and precipices, where the
deer could scarcely obtain footing, and where no vestige of aiiy of the human family could be seen. Having obtained a supply of powder and lead, he returned
through the same almost inaccessible paths to the fort,
which he found still besieged, and now reduced to extremity. The safe return of their leader inspired them
with fresh courage, and in a few days the appearance
of Colonel Bownian's party compelled the Indians to
retire.
  During the whole of this and the next year, the Indians were exceedingly troublesome.   The Shawnees
particularly distinguished themselves by the frequency
and inveterate nature of their incursions; and as their
capital, Chillicothe, was within striking distance, an expedition was set on foot against it in 1779, in which
Logan served as second in command. Captain James
Harrod and John Bulger accompanied the expedition;
the former of whom, shortly afterward, perished in a
lonely ramble; and the latter was killed at the Blue
Licks. Colonel Bowman commanded in chief. The
detachment amounted to one hundred and sixty men;
consisted entirely of volunteers, accustomed to Indian
warfare, and was well officered, but not so fortunate in
its commander.
  They left Harrodsburg in July, and took their preliminary measures so well, that they arrived within a
mile of Chillicothe, without giving the slightest alarm
to the enemy. Here the detachment halted at an early
hour in the night, and, as usual, sent out spies to examine the condition of the village. Before midnight
they returned, and reported that the enemy remained
unapprised of their being in the neighborhood, and
were in the most unmilitary security. The army was
instantly put in motion. It was determined that Logan, with one-half of the men, should turn to the left
121
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
and march half way around the town, while Bowman,
at the he-id of the remainder, should make a corre:sponding march to the right; that both parties should
proceed in silence, until they had met at the opposite
extremity of the village, when, having thus completely
encircled it, the attack was to commence.
   Logan, who was bravery himself, performed his part
 of the combined operation, with perfect order, and in
 profound silence; and having reached the designated
 spot, awaited with impatience the arrival of his com mander. Hour after hour stole away, but Bowman did
 not appear. At length daylight appeared. Logan, still
 expecting the arrival of his colonel, ordered the men to
 conceal themselves in the high grass, and await the ex pected signal to attack. No orders, however, arrived.
 In the meantime, the men, in shifting about through the
 grass, alarmed an Indian dog, the only sentinel on duty.
 He instantly began to bay loudly, and advanced in the
 direction of the man who had, attracted his attention.
 Presently a solitary Indian left. his cabin, and walked
 cautiously toward the party, halting frequently, rising
 upon tiptoes, and gazing around him.
   Logan's party lay close, with the hope of taking him
 without giving the alarm; but at that instant a gun was
 fired in an opposite quarter of the town, as was after ward ascertained, by one of Bowman's party, and the
 Indian, giving one shrill whoop, ran swiftly back to the
 council-house. Concealment was now impossible. Lo gan's party instantly sprung up from the grass, and
 iushed upon the village, not doubting for a moment
 that they would be gallantly supported. As they ad vanced, they perceived Indians of all ages and of both
 sexes, running to the great cabin, near the center of the
 town, where they collected in full force and appeared de termined upon an obstinate defense. Logan instantly
 took possession of the houses which had been deserted,
 and rapidly advancing from cabin to cabin, at length
 established his detachment within close rifle shot of the
 Indian redoubt.
   He now listened impatiently for the firing which
 should have been heard from the opposite extremity of
:122
BENJAMIN LOGAN.
the town, where he supposed Bowman's party to be, but
to his astonishment, every thing remained quiet in that
quarter. In the meantime his own position had become
critical. The Indians had recovered firom their panic,
and kept up a close and heavy fire upon the cabins
which covered his men. He had pushed his detachment so close to the redoubt, that they could neither
advance nor retreat without great exposure. The enemy outnumbered him, and gave indications of a disposition to turn both flanks of his position and thus endanger his retreat.
  Under these circumstances, ignorant of the condition
of his commander, and cut off from communication with
him, he formed the bold and judicious resolution, to
make a movable breastwork of the planks which formed
the floor of the cabins, and under cover of it, to rush
upon the stronghold of the enemy and carry it by main
force. Had this gallant determination been carried into
effect, and had the movement been promptly seconded,
as it ought to have been by Bowman, the conflict would
have been bloody, and the victory decisive. Most probably not an Indian would have escaped, and the consternation which such signal vengeance would have spread
throughout the Indian tribes, might have repressed their
incursions for a considerable time. But before the necessary steps could be taken, a messenger arrived from
Bowman, with orders "to retreat! "
  Astonished at such an order, at a time when honor
and safety required an offensive movement on their
part, Logan hastily asked if Bowman had been overpowered by the enemy? No! Had he ever beheld
an enemy? No! What, then, was the cause of this
extraordinary abandonment of a design so prosperously begun? He did not know: the colonel had
ordered a retreat! Logan, however reluctantly, was
compelled to obey. A retreat is always a dispiriting
movement, and, with militia, is almost certain to terminate in a complete rout. As soon as the men were
informed of the order, a most irregular and tumultuous scene commenced. Not being buoyed up by the
mutual confidence which is the offspring of discipline,
123
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
and which sustains regular soldiers under all circumstances, they no longer acted in concert.
  Each man selected the time, manner, and route of
his retreat for himself. Here a solitary Kentuckian
would start up from behind a stump, and scud away
through the grass, dodging and turning to avoid the
balls which whistled around him. There a dozen men
would run from a cabin, and scatter in every direction,
each anxious to save himself, and none having leisure
to attend to their neighbors. The Indians, astonished
at seeing men rout themselves in this manner, sallied
out of their redoubts and pursued the stragglers, as
sportsmen would cut up a scattered flock of wild geese.
They soon united themselves to Bowman's party, who
from some unaccountable panic of their commander,
or fault in themselves, had stood stock still near the
spot where Logan had left them the night before.
  All was confusion. Some cursed their colonel;
some reproached other officers; one shouted one thing,
one bellowed another; but all seemed to agree that
they ought to make the best of their way home, without the loss of a moment's time. By great exertions
on the part of Logan, well seconded by Harrod, Bulger, and the late Maj. G. M. Bedinger, of the Blue
Licks, some degre. of order was restored, and a
tolerably respectable retreat commenced. The Indians,
however, soon surrounded them on all sides, and kept
up a hot fire, which began to grow fatal. Colonel
Bowman appeared quite bewildered, and sat upon his
horse like a pillar of stone, neither giving an order,
nor taking any measures to repel the enemy. The
sound of the rifle-shots had, however, completely restored the men to their senses, and they readily formed
in a large hollow square, took trees, and returned the
fire with equal vivacity. The enemy was quickly repelled, and the troops recommenced their march.
  But scarcely had they advanced half a mile, when
the Indians re-appeared, and again opened a fire upon
the front, rear, and both flanks. Again a square was
formed, and the enemy repelled; but scarcely had the
harassed troops recommenced their march, when the
BENJAMIN LOGAN.
same galling fire was opened upon them from every
tree, bush, and stone capable of concealing an Indian.
Matters now began to look serious. The enemy were
evidently endeavoring to detain them, until fresh
Indians could come up in sufficient force to compel
them to lay down their arms. The men began to be
unsteady, and the panic was rapidly spreading from
the colonel to the privates. At this crisis, Logan,
Harrod, Bedinger, etc., selected the boldest and bestmounted men, and dashing into the bushes on horseback, scoured the woods in every direction, forcing the
Indians from their coverts, and cutting down as many
as they could overtake.
   This decisive step completely dispersed the enemy,
and the weary and dispirited troops continued their
retreat unmolested. They -lost nine killed and a few
others wounded. But the loss of reputation on the
part of the colonel was incalculable, for, as usual, he
was the scapegoat upon whose head the disgrace of the
miscarriage was laid. No good reason has ever been
assigned for the extraordinary failure of his own detachment; and the subsequent panic which he displayed
when harassed in the wood, affords room for suspicion
that either the darkness of the night, or the cry of an
owl (for he did not see the face of an enemy), had
robbed the colonel of his usual presence of mind.
   It may be here remarked, that the propriety of combined operations with irregular troops, is at least
doubtful. Different corps, moving by different routes
upon the same point, are liable to miscarriage from so
many causes, that the measure is scarcely ever attended
with success, unless when the troops are good, the
officers intelligent and unanimous, and the ground perfectly understood. The intervention of a creek, the
ignorance of a guide, or the panic of an officer, as in
the case of Bowman, may destroy the unity of the
operation, and expose the detachment which has
reached its station in proper time to be cut off.
   The signal failure of Washington at Germantown,
 may, in a great measure, be attributed to the com plicated plan of attack, as the several divisions arrived
125
viii BIOGRAPHY 017' THE A UTHOR.

In 1830, through the celebrated publishing house of Carey &
Lea, Philadelphia, he had published a work of fiction, entitled
“ Camden ”—a tale of the South during the revolutionary period
-—of singular interest and power, in which he gave a description
of the battle of Camden that is a very master—piece of military
narration. _

He had, indeed, a passionate admiration of military exploits,
and was gifted in compreh'endin_g/ and accurately describing
them. He was not satisfied, as men ordinarily are, with a gen-
eral conception of a battle. He looked closely into details; he
studied the topography of the field of operations, until he be-
came familiar with all its military features; he examined into
the numbers, material, and condition of the opposing forces;
the qualifications of leaders and subalterns; the strategy and
maneuvers preceding and during the battle; the positions of the
various corps, divisions, and regiments, and the particular part
in the struggle performed by each; the swaying tides of the
fight, the advance and retreat, the turning point, the decisive
charge, and all the causes conspiring to the grand result. He
gathered these details from all sources accessible—history, biog-
raphy, official reports of commanding and inferior officers, and
contemporary correspondence—-and, after thorough collation and
scrutiny of these, he formed his own conclusions as to the con-
test and its consequences. .

It was after this fashion he had studied history, ancient and
modern, civil as well as military, in all its amplitude. Upon such
vast acquisitions he had brought to bear his rare powers of gen-
eralization, and so traced causes and results in their continuous
flow from the earliest to the latest periods, and so arranged and
connected the great facts of history, that the origin, migration,
and intermingling of races, the rise, progress, and decay of na-
tions, with their deep teachings of philosophy, lay in his mem-
ory in one connected and consistent outline.

Shortly after retiring from the ministry, he determined to un-
dertake the study of the law. At the May term, 1835, he was
admitted to the bar of the Mason Circuit Court, and immedi-
ately entered upon the practice. He had formed a partnership
with Harrison Taylor, Esq., a gentleman of legal ability a11d
great worth, who was associated with hini so long as he prac-
ticed law, a.nd who has continued a prosperous professional ca-
reer to the present time, besides being for four years Speaker
of the House of Representatives of Kentucky, and filling other

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
-at different times, attacked without concert, and were
beaten in detail. I can scarcely recollect a single instance, save the affair of Trenton, in which raw troops
have succeeded by combined operations, and many miscarriages in our own annals may be attributed to that
circumstance. Logan returned to Kentucky with a
reputation increased, rather than diminished, by the
failure of the expedition. His conduct was placed in
glaring contrast to that of his unfortunate commander,
and the praise of the one was in exact correspondence
to the censure of the other.
  No other affair of consequence occurred until the
rash and disastrous battle of the Blue Licks, in which,
as we have seen, Logan was unable to share. He
seems to have remained quietly engaged in agricultural
pursuits until the summer of 1788, when he conducted
an expedition against the north-western tribes, which,
as usual, terminated in burning their villages, and
cutting up their corn-fields; serving to irritate, but not
to subdue the enemy. A single incident attending this
expedition, deserves to   be commemorated. Upon
approaching a large village of the Shawnees, from
which, as usual, most of the inhabitants had fled, an
old chief, named Moluntha, came out to meet them,
fantastically dressed in an old cocked hat, set jauntily
upon one side of his head, and a fine shawl thrown
over his shoulders. He carried an enormous pipe in
one hand, and a tobacco pouch in the other, and
strutted out with the air of' an old French beau to
smoke the pipe of peace with his enemies, whom he
found himself unable to meet in the field.
   Nothing could be more striking than the fearless confidence with which he walked through the foremost
ranks of the Kentuckians, evidently highly pleased
with his own appearance, and enjoying the admiration
which he doubted not that his cocked hat and splendid
shawl inspired. Many of the Kentuckians were highly
amused at the mixture of dandyism      and gallantry
which the poor old man exhibited, and shook hands
with him very cordially. Unfortunately, however, he
at length approached Major McGary, whose temper,
126
BENJAMIN LOGAN.
never particularly sweet, was as much inflamed by the
sight of an Indian, as that of a wild bull by the
waving of a red flag. It happened, unfortunately, too,
that Moluntha had been one of the chiefs who commanded at the Blue Licks, a disaster which McGary had not
yet forgotten.
  Instead of giving his hand as the others had done,
McGary scowled upon the-old man, and asked him if
"he recollected the Blue Licks?" Moluntha smiled,
and merely repeated the word "Blue Licks!" when
McGary instantly drew his tomahawk, and cleft him
to the brain. The old man received the blow without
flinching for a second, and fell dead at the feet of his
destroyer. Great excitement instantly prevailed in the
army. Some called it a ruthless murder; and others
swore that he had done right; that an Indian was not
to be regarded as a human being, but ought to be shot
down as a wolf whenever and wherever he appeared.
McGary himself raved like a madman at the reproach
of his countrymen, and declared, with many bitter
oaths, that he would not only kill every Indian whom
he met, whether in peace or war, at church or market,
but that he would equally as readily tomahawk the
man who blamed him for the act.
  Nothing else, worthy of being mentioned, occurred
during the expedition, and Logan, upon his return,
devoted himself exclusively to the civil affairs of the
country, which about his time began to assume an important aspect.
  The reader who is desirous of understanding the
gradations by which, from a simple society of woodsmen, Kentucky became transformed into a boiling
vortex of political fury, intrigue, and dissension, will
do well to consult Mr. Marshall's history, which,
although possessing some peculiarities of opinion, and
occasional eccentricities of style, will be found to contain a strong, clear, and sagacious view of the political
events which succeeded the peace of 1783.
13
127
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
                CHAPTER V.
URING the' whole of the Revolutionary war, the
    Indians had been extremely troublesome to the
back counties of Pennsylvania and Virginia, particularly to those of Washington, Youghiogheny, and
Westmoreland.    In the early part of the year 1782,
however, these irregular excursions became so galling
that an expedition was concerted against the Wyandott
village, lying upon the waters of the Sandusky. Great
exertions were made to procure volunteers.   Every
man who should equip himself with a horse and rifle,
was to be exempted from two tours of militia duty;
and any loss, either of arms or horses, was to be repaired out of the plunder of the Indian towns. The
volunteers were to rendezvous on the twentieth of' May,
at an old Mingo village, on the western shore of the
Ohio, about forty miles above Fort Pitt, and the unfortunate Colonel WILLIAM CRAWFORD was unanimously selectel as the leader of the expedition.
  On the appointed day, four hundred and fifty
mounted volunteers assembled at the Mingo village,
and impatiently awaited the arrival of their colonel.
Crawford instantly accepted the appointment, which
had been so unanimously pressed upon him, and a few
days before the day of rendezvous, passed through
Pittsburgh, on his way to the appointed place. He
there prevailed upon Dr. Knight to accompany the
detachment as surgeon, and having provided such medical stores as were likely to be useful on the expediti,,n,
he lost no time in putting himself at the head of the
troops.
  On Saturday, the twenty-fifth of May, the little
army commenced its march, striking at once into a
128
WILLIAM cRA IFORD.
pathless wilderness, and dire6ting their course due
west. On the fourth day, they halted at the ruins of
the old Moravian town, about sixty miles from the
Ohio, where a few of the volunteers gave a sample of
the discipline which was to be expected from the party,
by abandoning the detachment and returning home.
The main body, however, still seemed eager to prosecute the expedition, and the march was continued with
unabated spirit. On the morning of the thirtieth,
Mijo(r Brunton and Captain Bean, be*ng a few hundred yards in advance of the troops, ob.erved two Indians skulking through the woods, apparently observing the motions of the detachment.    They instantly
fired upon them, but without success. Secrecy now
being out of the question, it only remained to press
forward with all l)racticable dispatch, and afford the
enemy as little time for preparation as possible. As
the wilderness began to deepen around them, and the
critical moment approached in which their courage
would be tried, it became evident that the ardor of the
men was considerably cooled.
  On the eleventh day of their march, they reached
the spot where the town of San(dusky had fbrmerly
stood, but from which. the Indians had lately renmoved
to a spot about eighteen miles below. Here the detachment halted, and here the insubordinate spirit of
the army first displayed itself. They insisted upon returning home, alleging the tired condition of their
horses, and the fact, that their provisions were likely
soon to be exhausted. The officers, yielding to the
wishes of their constituents (for the troops had elected
their own officers), determined, in council, that they
would continue their march for one day longer, and, if
no Indians appeared, they would then return home!
What other results than these which we are now about
to record could have been anticipated from such officers
and such men?
  Just as the council broke up, a single light-horseman
belonging to the advanced guard rode in at a gallop,
announcing that a large body of Indians were formed
in an open wood, a few miles in advance, and seemed
129
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
determined to arrest the farther progress of the Kivaders. Instant preparations were made for battle. The
troops, notwithstanding their previous murmurs, advanced with alacrity, and soon came up with the lighthorsemen, who were slowly retiring within view of the
elnemy. The country was generally open, and well
adapted to the operations of cavalry. Here and there
a thin copse of woodlamnd appeared, generally free from
undlergrowth, and giving to each party a full view of
their enemy's movements. The indians had partially
obtained possession of one of these copses, althoughl
their full force had not yet come up.
  The importance of seizing the wood was instantly
seen, and Craw'ord hastily ordered his men to dismount, tie their horses, and force the enemy from
their position before their reinforcements could arrive.
This judicious order was promptly and effectually
obeyed.   Both flanks of the Indian position were immediately turned, and a rapid and threatening movement upon their front quickly compelled them to give
way. Crawford now took possession of the wood, but
scarcely had he done so, when the main boly of the
enemy hurried up to the assistance of their van, and
outflanking Crawfotrd in turn, opened a heavy and
galling fire upon his men, from which they found it
very difficult to obtainl proper shelter.
  The action now became sharp and serious; Crawford
maintaining his ground, and the enemy (who were
hourly increasing in number) making the most streuuous efforts to regain the wood. From four in the
evening until dusk, the firing was very heavy, and
the loss considerable. During the whole of this time,
scarcely an Indian was visible, unless f)r a moment,
when shifting his position. Their number could only
be ascertained from the many wreaths of smoke, which
arose from every bush, tree, or tuft of grass within
view. At night the etnemy drew off, and Crawford's
party slept upon their arms on the field of battle.
   On the next day the attack was renewed, but at a
more respectful distance. The Indians had apparently
sustained some loss on the close firing of the preceding
WILLIAM CRA WFORD.
evening, and seemed now determined to await the arrival of additional reinforcements. Occasional shots
were fired through the day on both sides, but without
much injury to either. As soon as it was dark, the
field officers assembled in council; and, as the numbers
of the enemy were evidently increasing every moment,
it was unanimously determined to retreat by night, as
rapidly as was consistent with order, and the preservation of the wounded. The resolution was quickly
announced to the troops, and the necessary dispositions
made for carrying it into effect. The outposts were
silently withdrawn from the vicinity of the enemy, and
as fast as they catne in, the troops were formed in three
parallel lines, with the wounded borne upon biers, in
the center. By nine o'clock at night, all necessary arrangemients had been made, and the retreat began in
good order.
  Unfortunately, they had scarcely moved a hundred
paces, when the report of several rifles were heard in
the rear, in the direction of the Indian encampment.
The troops soon became very unsteady    At length, a
solitary voice, in the front rank, called out that their
design was discovered, and that the Indians would soon
be utpon them. Nothing more was necessary. The
cavalry were inlstantly broken; and, as usual, each man
endeavored to save himself as he best could. A 1 rodigious uproar ensued, which quickly communicated to
the enemy, that the white men had routed themselves,
and that they had nothing to do but pick up stragglers.
The miserable wounded, notwithstanding the piercing
cries with which they supplicated to be taken with
them, were abandoned to the mercy of the enemy, and
soon put out of pain.
  Dr. Knight, the surgeon of the detachment, was in
the rear when the flight commenced, but seeing the
necessity of dispatch, he put spurs to his horse and
gall,,ped through the wood as fast as the darkness
of the night would permit. He had not advanced
more than three hundred yards, when he heard the
voice of Colonel Crawford, a short distance in front,
calling aloud for his son John Crawford, his son-in-law
131
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
Major Harrison, and his two nephews, Major Rose and
William Crawf'ord.   Dr. Knight replied, in the same
loud tone, that he believed the young men were in
front. "Is that you, doctor?" asked Crawford, eagerly; for no features could be recognized in the darkness. " Yes, colonel! I am the hindmost man, I believe! "  "No, no!" replied Crawford, anxiously,
" my son is in the rear yet: I have not been able to
hear of him in front! Do not leave me, doctor, my
horse has almost given out; I can not keep up with
the troops, and wish a few of my best friends to stay
with me."
  Knight assured him that he might rely upon his support in any extremity, and drew up his horse by his
side. Colonel Crawford still remained upon the same
spot, calling loudly for his son, until the last straggler
had passed. He then, in strong language, reprobated
the conduct of the militia in breaking their ranks and
abandoning the wounded, but quickly returned to the
subject of his son, and appeared deeply agitated at the
un(.ertainty of his fate. Perceiving, however, that
further delay must terminate in death or captivity, the
part), set spurs to their horses and followed the route
of the troops. Presently an old man and a lad joined
them. Crawford eagerly asked if they had seen his son
or nephews? They assured him     that they had not,
upon which he sighed deeply, but made no reply.
  At thi instant a heavy fire was heard at the distance
of a mile in front, accolmpanied by yell,, screams, and
all the uuual attendants of battle. Not a doubt was
entertaine I that the Indians had intercepted the retreat
of the main body, and were now engaged with them.
Having lost all confiletice in his men, Crawford (lid
not choose to unite his fortune to theirs, and changed
his course to the northward, in such a manner as to
leave the combatants upon the right. He continued
in this direction for nearly an hour, until he supposed
himself out of. the immediate line of the enemy's operations, wh'n lie again changed his course to the eistward, moving as rapidly as possible, with an interval
of twenty paces between them, and steadily regulating
WILLIAM CRA WFORD.
their route by the north star. The boy who accompanied them was brisk and active; but the old man constantly lagged behind, and as constantly shouted aloud
for them to wait for him. They often remonstrated
with him on the impropriety of making so much noise
at a time when all their lives depended upon secrecy
and celerity, and he repeatedly promised to do so no
more.
  At length, upon crossing Sandusky Creek, the old
man found himself once more considerably in the rear,
and once more shouted aloud fobr them to wait until
he could come up. Before they could reply, a halloo
was heard in the rear of their left, and apparently not
more than one hundred paces from the spot where the
old man stood. Suppooing it to be the cry of an Indian, they remained still and silent flor several minutes,
looking keenly around them in the expectation of beholding an enemy. Every thing, ho%ever, continued
silent. The old man was heard no more; and whether
he escaped, or was killed, could never be ascertained.
The party continued their flight until daybreak, when
Colonel Crawford's hotse, and that of the boy, sunk
under their riders and Nwere abandoned.
  Continuing their journey on bfoot, they quickly fell in
with Captain 1Biggs, an expert woodsman and gallant
officer, who, in the universal scattering, had generously
brought off a wounded officer-Lieutenant Ashleyupon his own horse, and was now composedly walking
by his side, with a rifle in his hand and a knapsack
upon his shoulders. This casual meeting was gratifying to both parties, and they continued their journey
with renewed spirits. At three o'clock in the afternoon
a heavy rain lell, and compelled them to encamp. A
temporary shelter was quickly foirmed by barking several trees, after the manner of the Indians, and spreading the bark over poles, so as to form a roof. A fire
was then kindled, and the rain continued to pour down
in torrents. They remained here through the night
without any accident.
  Continuinlg their route on the following morning, at
the distance of three miles from the camp, they found
133
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
a deer which had recently been killed and skinned.
The meat was neatly sliced and bundled up in the skinand a tomahawk lay near-giving room for suspicion
that Indians were in the neighborhood. As the whole
party had fasted for thirty-six hours, this was a very
acceptable treat; and, lifting the skin, with the meat
inclosed, from the ground, they carried it with them
until they had leisure to cook it. Having advanced a
mile further, they observed a smoke in the woods before
them. The party instantly halted, while Colonel Crawford and Dr. Knight advanced to reconnoiter.
  Cautiously approaching the fire, they found it burning brightly, but abandoned, from which they inferred
that a party had encamped there the preceding night,
and had retired a few minutes before their approach.
Having carefully examined the bushes around, and discovered no Indian sign, they directed their friends in
the rear to come up, and quickly set about preparing
breakfast. In a few minutes they observed a white man
skulking in the rear, examining the trail, and apparently
very shy of approaching them. Calling out to him in
a friendly tone, they invited him, to approach without
fear, assuring him that they were countrymen and friends.
The man instantly complied, and informed them that
he had killed the deer which they were cooking, but
hearing them approach, he had taken them for enemies,
and had fled into the bushes for concealment.
  Highly pleased at this further accession to their
strength, the party breakfasted heartily upon the deer,
and continued their march. By noon, they had reached
the path by which the army had marched a few days
before in their advance upon the Indian towns, and
some discussion took place as to the propriety of taking
that road homeward. Biggs and the doctor strenuously
insisted upon continuing their course through the woods,
and avoiding all paths; but Crawford overruled them,
assuring them that the Indians would not urge the
pursuit beyond the plains, which were already far behind. Unfortunately, the colonel prevailed; and, abandoning their due eastern course, the party pursued the
beaten path. Crawford and Knight moved one hundred
134
WILLIAM3 CRA WFORD.
and fifty yards in front, Biggs and his wounded friend
Ashley were in the center, both on horseback, the doctor
having lent Biggs his horse, and the two men on foot
brought up the rear.
  They soon had reason to repent their temerity.
Scarcely had they advanced a mile when several Indians
sprung up within twenty yards of Knight and Crawford, presented their guns, and in good English ordered
them to stop. Knight instantly sprung behind a large
black-oak, cocked his gun, and began to take aim at the
fobremost. Crawford, however, did not attempt to conceal himself; but, calling hastily to Knight, ordered
him twice not to fire. Instantly, the Indian at whom
Knight had taken aim, ran up to the colonel with every
demonstration of friendship, shook his hand cordially,
and asked how he did. Knight still maintaining a
hostile attitude behind the tree, Crawford called to him
again, and ordered him to put down his gun, which the
doctor very reluctantly obeyed.
  Biggs and Ashley, seeing the condition of their friends,
halted; while the two men in the rear very prudently
took to their heels and escaped. One of the Indians
then told Crawford to order Biggs to come up and surrender or they would kill him. The colonel complied;
but Biggs, feeling no inclination to obey his commander
in the present instance, very coolly cocked his rifle, took
deliberate aim at one of the Indians, and fired, although
without effect. He and Ashley then put spurs to their
horses and for the time escaped. The two prisoners
were then taken to the Indian camp, which stood within
a few miles of the place where they were taken; and,
on the next evening, five Delawares came in with the
scalps and horses of Biggs and Ashley, who it appeared
had returned to the road, and were intercepted a few
miles firther on.
  On the following morning, the tenth of June, Crawford and Knight, together with nine more prisoners,
were conducted by their captors, seventeen in number,
to the old town of Sandusky, about thirty-three miles
distant. The main body halted at night within eight
miles of the village; but as Colonel Crawford expressed
135
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR. ix

offices of high honor in the State. On the day of his admission,
Mr. McClung argued, before the Court, a question involving the
construction of a statute and a diflicult point in pleading. His
argument was brief, clear, and cogent; and although the subject
had been considered very doubtful, it was felt, when he con-
cluded, that a demonstration had been made. The decision was
promptly rendered in his favor. From that time he took posi-
tion in the front rank of his profession, and, during a practice
of fifteen years duration, was regarded as one of the leading
lawyers and ablest advocates in the State.

As a speaker before courts and juries, he was never monot-
onous or tedious, rarely elaborate, always earnest and effective.
There was nothing desultory in his efforts. His statement, in
opening, was concise, and the order and logic of his argument
wonderfully lucid. In cases in which he had not the conviction
that his client was in the right, McClung was rarely up to the
standard of his own powers. The consciousness of advocating a
cause unjust, seemed to sap his strength, and blunt the edge of
his intellect. He was not a master in the tricks or chicanery of
the profession; nor could he tolerate insincerity, sophistry, or
subterfuge. He was a cautious, conscientious counselor, frank
always in his opinions given to clients, and never advising liti-
gation unless based on a just claim. This course had the effect
of generally placing him in the advocacy of the right. And so
clear and sharply—defined was his character for integrity and
truth, so deep in the popular heart was the conviction of his
unswerving fidelity to principle, that he won, nay, he com-
manded as a tribute, the confidence alike of clients, juries, and
judges. Hence, when he appeared iii a cause which he believed
to be just, and threw himself into it with all the earnestness of

his convictions, the weight of his character and the full power a

of his massive logic, warmed and flashing with the fires of his
eloquence, he was well-nigh irresistible, and success almost as-
sured.

He was not- ambitious in the ordinary sense, and cared noth-
ing for place or power. Practically, he ignored all the arts by
which men, who seek preferment, wield the populace to their
purposes and profit. He never descended to the low plane on
_which schemers and demagogues plot and struggle, nor did he
attempt to influence men by motives indirect, secret, or sinister.
But he took a lively interest frequently both in Federal and State
politics, and exercised, for many years, a wide political influence

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
great anxiety to speak with Simon Girty, who was then
at Sandusky, he was permitted to go on that evening,
under the care of two Indians. On Tuesday morning,
the eleventh of June, Colonel Crawford was brought
back from Sandusky, on purpose to march into town
with the other prisoners. Knight eagerly accosted him
and asked if he had seen Girty.
  The colonel replied in the affirmative; and added
that Girty had promised to use his utmost influence for
his (the colonel's) safety, but was tfearful of the consequences, as the Indians generally, and particularly
Captain Pipte, one of the Delaware chiefs, were much
incensed against the prisoners, and were endeavoring to
have them all burncd. The colonel added that he had
heard of his son-in-law, Colonel Harrison, and his
nephew, William Crawford, both of whom had been
taken by the Shawnees anld admitted to mercy. Shortly
after this communication, their capital enemy, Captain
Pipe, aplpetred. His appearance was by no means unprepossessinig, and he exhibited none of the ferocity
which Knight, from Girty's account, had been led to
expect.
  On the contrary, his manners were bland and his
language flattering. But one oniinous circumstance
attended his visit: with his own hand, he painted every
prisoner black! \Vhile inl the act of painting the doctor,
lie was as polite as a French valet, assuring him that
he should soon go to the Shawnee town and see his
friends; and while painting the colonel, he told himn
that his head should be shaved, i. e., he should be
adopted, as soon as he ari'ived at the Wyandott town.
As soonm as the prisoners were painted, they were conducted toward the town, Captain Pipe w~alking by the
side of Crawford, and treating him with the utmost
kindness; while the other prisoners, with the exception
of Dr. Knight, were pushed on ahead of him.
  As they advanced, they were shocked at observing the
bodies of four of their friends, who had just left them,
lyiing near the path, tomahawked and scalped, with an
interval of nearly a mile between each.'l'hey had evidently perished in running the gauntlet. This spectacle
136
"WILLIAM CRA WFORD.
was regarded as a sad presage of their own fate. In a
short time they overtook the five prisoners w\ho remained
alive. They were seated on the ground, and appeared
much dejected. Nearly seventy squaws and Indian
boys surrounded them, inenacing them with knives and
tomahawks, and exhaustitg upon them every abusive
epithet which their language afforded. CraN~ford and
Knight were coinmpelled to sit down apart from the rest;
and immediately afierward, the doctor was given to a
Slhawnee warrior, to be conducted to their town, while
the colonel remained statiionary.
  The boys and squaws then fell upon the other prisoners and toinahawked them in a moment. Among
them was Captain McKinley, who had served with reputation throughout the Revolutionary war until the capture of Cornwallis. An old withered hag approached
him, brandishing a long knife, and, seizing him by the
hair, instantly cut off his head and kicked it near the
spot where Crawford sat in nionientary expectation of a
similar fite. Another d&stinv, however, was reserved
for him. After having sufficieltly exhausted their rage
upon the lifeless bodies of the five prisoners, the whole
party started up, and, driving Crawford before them,
m:irched toward the village.
  Presently, Girty appeared on horseback, coming from
Sandusky. He stoptped for a few moments and spoke
to Crawiord, then pas.,sinlg to the rear of the party, addrezsed Knight. "Is this the doctor?" inquired lie,
with an insulting smile. "Yes! Mr. Girty, 1 am glad
to see you!" replied poor Knight, advaiicing toward him
and anxiously extending his hand. But Girty cursed
him in a savage tone, ordered him to be gone, and not
to suppose that he would give his hand to such a -
rascal. Upon this, the Shawnee warrior who had him
in custody, dragged him along by a rope. Girty followed on horseback, and informed him that he was to
go to Chillicothe. Presently they came to a spot where
there was a large fire, around which about thirty warriors, anid more tlan double that number of boys and
squaws, weie codlected.
   As soon as the colonel arrived, they surrounded him,
137
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
stripped him naked, and compelled him to sit on the
ground near the fire. They then fell upon him and
beat him severely with sticks and their fists. In a few
minutes a large stake was fixed in the ground, and
piles of hickory poles, rather thicker than a mall's
thumb, and about twelve feet in length, were spread
around it. Colonel Crawford's hands were then tied
behind his back; a strong rope was produced, one end
of which was fastened to the ligature between his wrists
and the other tied to the bottom of the stake. The rope
was long enough to permit him to walk around the stake
several times and then return. Fire was then applied
to the hickory poles, which lay in piles at the distance
of six or seven yards from the stake.
  The colonel, observing these terrible preparations,
called to Girty, who sat on horseback, at the distance
of a few yards from the fire, and asked if the Indians
were going to burn him. Girty very coolly replied in
the affirmative. The colonel heard the intelligence with
firmness, merely observing that he would bear it with
fortitude. When the hickory poles had been burnt
asunder in the middle, Captain Pipe arose and addressed
the crowd, in a tone of great energy, and with animatvd
gestures, pointing frequently to the colonel, who regarded
him with an appearance of unruffled composure. As
soon as he had ended, a loud whoop burst from the assembled throng, and they all rushed at once upon the
unfortunate Crawford. For several seconds the crowd
was so great around him, that Knight could not see what
they were doing; but in a short time they had dispersed
suffi-iently to give him a view of the colonel.
   His ears had been cut offi and the blood was streaming down each side of his face. A terrible scene of torture now commenced. The warriors shot charges of
po\wd,:r into his naked body, commencing with the calves
of his legs and continuing to his neck. The boys
snatched the burning hickory poles and applied them
to his flesh. As fast as he ran around the stake to
avoid one party of tormentors, he was promptly met at
every turn by others, with burning poles, red-hot irons,
and rifles loaded with powder only; so that in a few
138
WILLIAM CRA WFORD.
minutes nearly one hundred charges of powder had
been shot into his body, which had become black and
blistered in a dreadful manner. The squaws would take
up a quantity of coals and hot ashes, and throw them
upon his body, so that in a few minutes he had nothing
but fire to walk upon.
  In the extremity of his agony, the un1happy colonel
called aloud upon Girty, in tones which rang through
Knight's brain with maddening effect: "Girty! Girty!
shoot nme through the heart! Quick! quick! Do not
refuse me.."''Do n't you see I have no gun, colonel? "
replied the monster, bursting into a loud laugh, and
then, turning to an Indian beside him, he uttered some
brutal jests upon the naked and mi-erable appearance
of the prisoner. While this awful scene was being
enacted, Girty rode up to the spot where Dr. Knight
stood, and told him that he now had a foretaste of what
was in reserve for him at the Shawnee towns. He swore
that he need not expect to escape death, but should suffer it in all the extremity of torture!
  Knighlt, whose mind was deeply agitated at the sight
of the fearful scene before him, took no notice of Girty,
but preserved an iipenetralble silence. Girty, after
coldly conteniplating the colonel's suffrings for a few
moments, turned again to Knight, and indulged in a
bitter invective against a certain Colonel Gibson, from
whom, he said, he had received deep injury, and dwelt
upon the delight with which he would see him undergo
such tortures as those which Crawford was then suffering. He observed, in a taunting tone, that most of the
prisoners had said that the white people would not injure him, if tile chance of war was to throw him into
their power; but that, for his own part, he should be loath
to try the experiment. "'I think," added he, "'ith a laugh,
"that they would roast me alive with more pleasure
than those red fellows are now broiling the colonel!
What is your opinion, doctor? Do you think they
would be glad to see me?" Still Knight made no answer, and in a few minutes Girty rejoined the Indians.
  The terrible scene had now lasted more than two
hours, and Crawford had become much exhausted. He
139
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
walked slowly around the stake, spoke in a low tone,
and earnestly besought God to look with compassion
upon him, and pardon his sins. His nerves had lost
much of their sensibility, and he no longer shrank from
the firebrands with which they incessantly touched him.
At length he sank in a fainting fit upon his face, and
lay motionless. Instantly an Indian sprang upon his
back, knelt lightly upon one knee, made a circular incision with his knife upon the crown of his head, and,
clapping the knife between his teeth, tore the scalp off
with both hands. Scarcely had this been done, when a
withered ha. approached with a board full of burning
eml)ers, and poured them upon the crown of his head,
now laid bare to the bone. The colonel groaned deeply,
arose, and again walked slowly around the stake. But
why continue a description'so horrible? Nature at
length could endure no more, and at a late hour in the
night he was released by death from the hands of his
tormentors.
  At sunset Dr. Knight was removed from the ground,
and taken to the house of Captain Pipe, where, after
having been securely bound, he was permitted to sleep
unmolested. On the next morning, the Indian f'ellow
to whose care he had been committed unbound him,
again painted him black, and told him he must instantly
march off for the Shawnee village. The doctor was a
small, weak man, and had sunk much under the hardship to which he had been exposed; and this, probably,
was the cause of his having been committed, unbound,
to the guardianship of a single Indian. They quickly
left Sandusky, and in a few minutes passed by the spot
where Crawford had been tortured. His flesh had been
entirely consumed, and his bones, half burnt and blackened by the fire, lay scattered around the stake. The
Indian fellow who guarded him uttered the scalp halloo
as he passed the spot, and insultingly told Knight that
"these were the bones of his Big Captain!" Knight
was on foot, the Indian mounted on a pony and well
armed; yet the doctor determined to effect his escape, or
compel his enemy to shoot him dead upon the spot.
  The awful torture which Crawford had undergone had
140
WILLIAM. CPRA rWFORD.
1lft a deep impression upon his mind. The savage intimation of Girty was not forgotten, and he regarded
death by shooting as a luxury compared with the protracted agony of the stake. Anxious, however, to lull
the suspicious temper of the Indian, who appeared to be
extremely vigilant, he spoke to him in a cheerful, confident tone, and pretended to be entirely ignorant of the
fate which awaited him at the Shawnee town. He
found the fellow very sociable, and apparently as simple
as he could wish. Upon his asking if they were not to
live together inl the same cabin like brothers, as soon as
they arrived at the end of their journey, the Indian
seemed plea-ed, and replied, "Yes." He then asked
the doctor if he could make a wigwam. The doctor
boldly asserted that he was a capital workman in wood,
and could build a wigwam to which their most spacious
council-houses were mere hovels. This assertion evidently elevated him in the Indian's esteem, and they
continut d to chat in a very friendly manner, each probably thinking that he had made a dupe of the other.
  After traveling about twenty-five miles they encamped
for the night, when Knight permitted himsdlf to be
bound. The Indian then informed him that they would
reach the Shawnee vill;ge about the middle of the next
day, and seemed to compose himself to rest. Knight
frequently attempted to untie himself, but was as often
fiuAtrated by the incessant vigilance of the Indian, whose
dark eyes were rolling around him throughout the whole
night. At daylight the Indian arose anti unbound his
prisoner, who instantly determined to attempt an escape
without further delay. His conductor did not immediately leave the spot, but began to rekindle their fire,
which had burned low, and employed himself' diligently
in giving battle to the myriads of gnats that swarmed
around him and fastened upon his naked body with high
relish. Knight, seeing him rub his back with great elnergy, muttering petulantly in the Indian tongue, asked
if he should make a smoke behind him, in ordvr to drive
the gnats away.
  The Indian told him to do so, and Knight, arising
from his seat, took the end of a dogwood fork, about
141
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
eighteen inches in length, and, putting a coal of fire between it and another stick, went behind the Indian as
if to kindle a fire. Gently laying down the coal, he
pau-ed a moment to collect his strength, and then struck
the Indian a furious blow upon the back of the head
with the dogwood stick. The fellow stumbled forward,
and fell with his hands in the fire; but, instantly rising
again, ran off with great rapidity, howling most dismally. Knight instantly seized the rifle which his enemy
had abandoned, and pursued him, intending to shoot
him dead on the spot, and thus prevent pursuit; but,
in drawing back the cock of the gun too violently, he
injured it so much that it would not go off, and the Indian, frightened out of his wits, and leaping and dodging with the activity of a wild cat, at length effected his
escape.
  On the same day, about noon, as Knight afterward
learned from a prisoner who effected his escape, the Indian arrived at the Shawnee village, with his head
dreadfully cut, and his legs torn by the briers. He
proved to be a happy mixture of the braggadocio and
coward, and treated his fellows with a magnificent description of his contest with Knight, whom he represented as a giant in stature (five feet seven inches!), and
a buffalo in strength and fierceness.   He said that
Knight prevailed upon him to untie him, and that while
they were conversing like brothers, and while he himself was suspecting no harm, his prisoner suddenly seized
a dogwood sapling, and belabored him, now on this side
of his head, now on the other (here his gestures were
very lively), until he was scarcely able to stand. That,
nevertheless, he made a manful resistance, and stabbed
his gigantic antagonist twice, once in the back, and
once in the belly; but, seeing that his knife made no
impression upon the strength of the prisoner, he was at
length compelled to leave him, satisfied that the wounds
which he had inflicted must at length prove mortal.
The Indians were much diverted at his account of the
affair, and laughed loud and long, evidently not believing a syllable of the tale, at least so far as his own prowess was concerned.
142
WILLAL4M CRA WFORD.
  In the meantime, Knight, finding it useless to pursue
the Indian, to "hom terror had lenit wings, hastily returned to the fire, and takinlg the Indian's blanket, moccasins, bullet bag, and powder horn, lost no time in
moving off, directing his course toward the north-east.
About half an hour by sun, he came to the plains already mentioned, which were about sixteen miles wide.
Not choosing to cross them by daylight, he lay down in
the high grass until dark; then, guided by the north
star, he crossed them rapidly, and before daylight had
reached the woods on the oth(,r side. Without halting
for a moment, he continued his march until late in the
afternoon, crossing nearly at right angles the path by
which the troops had advanced, and moving steadily to
the northward, with the hope of avoiding the enemy,
who might still be lingering upon the rear of the troops.
  In the eveling he felt very faint and hungry, having
tasted nothing for three days, and very little since his
captivity. Wild gooseb(riies grew very abundantly in
the woods, but, being still green, they required mastication, which he was unable to perform, his jaws having
been much injured by a blow from the back of a tomahawk. There was a weed, however, which grew in the
woods, the juice of which was grateful to the palate and
nourishing to the body. Of this he sucked plentifully,
and finding himself much refreshed, was enabled to continue his journey Supposing that he had now advanced
sufficiently to the northward to baffle his pursuers, he
changed his course and steered due east.
  Wishing, if possible, to procure some animal food,
he often attempted to rectify the lock of his gun, supposing that it was only wood-bound; but, having no knife,
he was unable to unscrew it, and was at length reluctantly compelled to throw it away as a useless burden.
His jaw rapidly recovered, and he was enabled to chew
green gooseberries, upon which, together with two young
unfledged blackbirds, and one land terrapin (both devoured raw), he managed to subsist for twenty-one days.
He swam the Muskingum a few miles below Fort Lawrence, and, crossing all paths, directed his steps to the
Ohio River. He struck it at a few miles below Fort
         14
143
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
McIntosh on the evening of the twenty-first day, and on
the morning of the twenty-second reached the fort in
safety.
  Such was the lamentable expedition of Colonel Crawford, rashly undertaken, injudiciously prosecuted, and
terminating with almost unprecedented calamity. The
insubordinate spirit of the men, together with the inadequacy of the force, were the great causes of the failure.
The first was incident to the nature of the force, but the
second might have been remedied by a little consideration. Repeated disasters, however, were necessary to
convince the Americans of the necessity of employing a
sufficient force, and it was not until they had suffered by
the experience of ten more years that this was at length
done. The defeat of Bradldock had been bloody, but
not disgraceful. Officers and soldiers died in battle, and
with arms in their hands. Not a man offered to leave
the ground until a retreat was ordered. Crawford, on
the contrary, perished miserably at the stake, as did
most of his men. They were taken in detail, skulking
through the woods to avoid an enemy whom they might
have vanquished by union, steadiness, and courage. It
stands upon record as one of the most calamitous and
disgraceful expeditions which has ever stained the American arms.
144
JOHN SLO VER.
                CHAPTER VI.
D URING the old French war, JOHN SLOVER, a native
    of Virginia, was taken by a party of Miami Indians, on the banks of White River, and immediately conducted to the Indian town of Sandusky. Here he residcd from his eighth to his twentieth year. At the
treaty of Pittsburgh, in the fall of 1773, he came in
with the Shawnee nation, and accidentally meeting with
some of his relations, he was recognized and earnestly
exhorted to relinquish his connection with the Indians,
and return to his friends. He yielded with some reluctance, having become strongly attached to a savage
life; and having probably but little relish for labor on
a farm, after the easy life which he had led in Ohio,
he enlisted in the continental army, and served two
campaigns with credit, as a sharp-shooter. Having
been properly discharged, he settled in Westmoreland
County, and when the unfortunate expedition of Crawford was set on foot, was strongly urged to attend in
the capacity of a guide.
  Conquering the distaste which he naturally felt at the
idea of conducting a hostile army against his former
friends, he yielded to the persuasion of his neighbors,
and shared in all the dangers of the army. At the moment when the rout took place, Slover was in the immediate neighborhood of the enemy, attending to a
number of horses that were grazing on the plain. But
the uproar mn front, occasioned by the tumultuous flight
of more than four hundred men, soon warned him of
his danger. He hastily mounted the best horse within
reach, and put him to his utmost speed. He soon overtook the main body, and was among the foremost when
the Indians attempted to intercept them. A deep bog
145
x BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTI-IOR.

in the State in favor of conservative principles. Especially, in the
heated contests succeeding the election of Mr. Van Buren and the
financial collapse of 1837, he took an active part, and frequently
and with great effect addressed large gatherings of the people.
At the solicitation of many friends, he consented and was elected
to represent his native county in 1837, and took his seat in the
Legislature in the winter of that year.

South Carolina had conceived a sectional scheme, by which she
proposed to run a railroad from Charleston, through the States of
North Carolina and Tennessee, to Louisville, in Kentucky, and at
the same time and in conjunction therewith to establish a mam-
moth bank, with its head-oflice in Charleston, and branches in the
other States. It was brought forward in the Kentucky Legisla-
ture, at the session of 1837, and defeated, Mr. McClung opposing
it. He was re-elected, and took his seat at the session of 1838.
Great efforts had been made in the canvass of that year to secure
for the project able friends in the Legislature, and every possible
appeal directed to Southern sympathies and pride, as Well as to
sectional interests and State aggrandizement. The success was
very encouraging, and, upon the assembling of the Legislature,
it was believed by its friends that the charter for road and bank
would surely pass. Under far more favorable auspices than in
1837, its passage was formidably urged by a body of able, zealous,
and eloquent men, with the distinguished Commissioner, Col.
Memminger, of South Carolina, as its chief advocate. The pub-
lic interest had become intense, influential men had congregated
from all quarters of the country, and the capital was filled with
the intellect and fashion and beauty of the State. Every appli-
ance had been enlisted and used to insure a triumph. The de-
bate had progressed for several days; the friends of the measure
were already flushed with the anticipations of victory; the op-
position was firm, stern, and uncompromising. It was at this
point that Mr. McClung, with erect and manly form, took the
floor.

In opening, he alluded to the advantages which the friends of
the bill contended would result, andsaid:

“At a first glance they are imposing. The grandeur of the
object intended to be accomplished——the total revolution in the
trade, commerce, and‘ political associations of Kentucky, which
would result from its c0mpletion—strikes the mind of the states-
man with an emotion bordering on awe, and for a time deprives
him of the power of examining the subject with that calm scru-
tiny which a project so novel and vast iniperiously demands of a

WESTERN AD VENT UE.
crossed the line of retreat, and occasioned immense
confusion.
  Those who first reached it, plunged in without hesitation, but after struggling for a few minutes, their
horses stuck fast, and were necessarily abandoned. The
darkness of the night, and the hurry of the retreat,
prevented the rear from profiting by the misfortune of
the van. Horseman after horseman plunged madly into
the swamp, and in a few minutes a scene which baffles
all attempt at description took place. Not one-tenth
part of the horses were able to struggle through. Their
riders dismounted and endeavored, on foot, to reach
the opposite side. The Indians pressed upon them,
pouring an incessant fire upon the mass of fugitives,
some of whom were completely mired, and sunk gradually to the chin, in which condition they remained until
the following morning; others, with great difficulty,
effected a passage, and continued their flight on foot.
  Slover, having struggled f,r several minutes to disengage his horse, was at length compelled to abandon
him, and wade through the morass as he best could, on
foot. After incredible fatigue and danger, he at length
reached the firm ground, covered with mud, and frightened not a little at hearing the yells of the enemy immediately behind him and upon each flank, many of
them having crossed a few hundred yards above, where
the mud was not so deep. In a few minutes he overtook a party of six men on foot, having been compelled
like himself to abandon their horses, and two of them
having even lost their guns. Finding themselves hard
pressed by the enemy, who urged the pursuit with great
keenness, they changed their course from an eastern to
a western direction, almost turning upon their own trail,
and bending their steps toward Detroit. In a short
time they struck the same swamp, although considerably higher up, and were compelled to wait until daylight in order to find their way across. Having succeeded at length in reaching the opposite side, they
traveled, throughout the day, directly toward the
Shawnee towns. This, as the event proved, was finessing rather too much.     They would certainly avoid
146
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JOHN SLO VER.
their pursuers, but they were plunging into the midst
of the Indian settlement~, and mu-t expect to meet
with roving bands of Indians in every direction.
  At ten o'clock they halted for breakfast, having eaten
nothing for two days. While busily engaged with their
ration of cold pork and corn bread, they were alarmed
by hearing a halloo immediately behind them, which
was instantly answered by two others upon each flank.
Hastily dropping their wallets, they fled into the grass,
and falling upon their faces, awaited with beating hearts
the approach of the enemy. Presently, seven or eight
Indians appeared, talking and laughing in high spirits,
evidently ignorant of the presence of the fugitives. In
a few minuies they had passed, and the party cautiously
returned to their wallets. The fright, however, had
completely spoiled their appetites, and hastily gathering up the remnant of their provisions, they continued
their journey, changing their course a little to the north,
in order to avoid the party who had just passed.
  By twelve o'clock they reached a large prairie, which
it was necessary for them to cross, or return upon their
own footsteps. In the prairie they would be much exposed, as an enemy could see them at a vast distance,
but to return to the spot from which they had started
was so melancholy an alternative that, after a short and
anxious consultation, it was determined at all risks to
proceed. They accordingly entered the vast plain, which
stretched for many miles before them, affording no means
of concealment but the grass, and advanced rapidly but
cautiously, until about one o'clock, when the man in
front called their attention to a number of moving objects ahead, which seemed to approach them. The grass
was high, and the objects indistinct.
  They might be Indians, or elk, or buffalo; but whoever or whatever they were, it would be as well perhaps
not to await their coming. They accordingly crawled
aside, and again lay down in the grass, occasionally
lifting their heads in order to reconnoiter the strangers.
As they drew near, they perceived them to be a party
of Indians, but from the loose and straggling manner in
which they walked, and the loudness of their voices,
147
WESTERNV ADVENTURE.
they were satisfied that they had not been detected.
The Indians quickly passed them and disappeared in
the grass. The party then arose and continued their
journey, looking keenly around them, in hourly expectation of another party of the enemy.
  In the evening a heavy rain fell, the coldest that they
had ever felt, and from which it was impossible to find
a shelter. Drenched to the skin and shivering with
cold, they waded on through the grass until near sunset, when to their great joy they saw a deep forest immediately in front, where they could obtain shelter as
well from the storm as the enemy. The rain, however,
which had poured in torrents while they were exposed
to it, ceased at once as soon as they had reached a shelter. Considering this a good omen, they encamped for
the night, and on the following morning, recommenced
their journey with renewed spirits. They were much
delayed, however, by the infirmity of two of their men,
one of whom had burnt his foot severely, and the other's
knees were swollen with the rheumatism.
  The rheumatic traveler, at length, fell considerably
behind. The party halted, hallooed for him, and whistled loudly upon their chargers, but in vain. They saw
him no more on their march, although he afterward
reached Wheeling in safety, while his stronger coinpanions, as we shall quickly see, were not so fortunate.
They had now again shifted their course, and were
marching in a straight direction toward Pittsburgh.
They had passed over the most dangerous part of the
road, and had, thus far, got the first view of every enemy who appeared.
  On the morning of the third day, however, a party
of Indians, who had secretly dogged them from the
prairie (through which their trail had been broad and
obvious), had now outstripped them, and lay in ambush
on their road. The first intimation which Slover had
of their existence, was a close discharge of rifles, which
killed two of their party. The four survivers instantly
ran to the trees, but two of their guns had been left in
the swamp, so that two only remained fit for service.
Slover, whose gun was in good order, took aim at the
148
JOItN ASLO VER.
foremost Indian, who, raising his hand warningly, told
him not to fire and he should be treated kindly. Blover
and his two unarmed companions instantly surrendered,
but John Paul, a youth, refused to be included in the
capitulation, and being equally bold and active, completely baffled his pursuers and came safely into
Wheeling.
  One of the Indians instantly recognized Slover, having been present at his capture many years before, and
having afterward lived with him at Sandusky. He
called him by his Indian name (Mannuchcothe), and
reproached him indignantly for bearing arms against
his brothers. Slover was somewhat confused at the
charge, fearing that his recognition would be fatal to
him when he should reach the Indian towns. They
were taken back to the prairie, where the Indians had
left their horses, and each mounting a horse, they
moved rapidly toward the nearest town, which proved
to be Waugheotomoco, the theater of Kenton's adventure, four years be'ore. Upon approaching the town,
the Indians, who had heretofore been very kind to
them, suddenly began to look sour, and put themselves
into a passion by dwelling upon their injuries. Presently, as usual, the squaws, boys, etc., came out, and
the usual scene commenced. They soon became tired
of abusing and. switching them, and, having selected
the oldest of the three, they blacked his face with coal
and water. The poor fellow was much agitated, and
cried bitterly, frequently asking Slover if they were
not going to burn him. The Indians, in their own
language, hastily forbid Slover to answer him, and
coming up to their intended victim, patted him upon
the back, and with many honeyed epithets assured him
that they would not hurt him. They then marched on
to the large town, about two miles beyond the small
one (both bearing the same name), having, as usual,
sent a runner in advance to inform the inhabitants of
their approach.
  The whole village presently flocked out, and a row
was formed for the gauntlet. The man who had been
blacked attracted so much attention, that Slover and
149
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
his companion scarcely received a blow. The former
preceded themr by twenty yards, and was furiously attacked by every individual. Loads of powder were
shot into his body, deep wounds were inflicted with
knives and tomahawks, and sand was thrown into his
eyes, and he was several times knocked down by cudgels. Having heard that he would be safe ou reaching
the council-house, he fbrced his way with gigantic
strength through all oppo-ition, and grasped the post
with both hands, his body burnt with powder and covered with blood.
  He was furiously torn from his place of refuge, however, and thrust back am,ong his enemies. When finding
that they would give him no quarter, he returned their
blows with a fury equal to their own, crying piteously
the whole time, and frequently endeavoring to wrest a
tomahawk from his enemies. This singular scene continued for nearly half an hour, when the prisoner was
at length beaten to death. Slover and his companion
reached the post in safety, and were silent spectators of
the fate of their friend. As soon as he was dead, the
Indians cut up his body, and stuck the head and quarters upon poles in the center of the town.
  On the same evening he beheld the dead bodies of
young Crawford and Colonel Harrison, and a third,
whom he supposed to be Colonel McClelland, the second
in command. Their bodies were black and mangled,
like that of their unfortunate companion, having been
beaten to death a few hours before their arrival. As
he passed by the bodies, the Indians smiled maliciously,
and asked if he knew them. He mentioned their
names, upon which they nodded with much satisfaction. In the evening, all the dead bodies were dragged
beyond the limits of the town, and abandoned to the
dogs and wolves. In twenty four hours, their bones
only were to be seen.
  On the following morning, Slover's only surviving
companion was marched off to a neighboring town, and
never heard of afterward. Slover, himself, was summoned in the evening to attend at the council-house,
and give an account of his conduct. Heretofore he had
150
JOHN,SLO VER.
generally been treated with kindness, and on the first
day of the council he saw no symptoms of a disposition
to put him to death. But on the second day James
Girty arrived, from Crawford's execution, and instantly
threw the whole weight of his influence into the scale
against the prisoner. He dwelt, with much emphasis,
upon the ingratitude of Slover in serving as a spy
against those who had formerly treated him with such
distinguished kindness, and scrupled not to affirm that
in a confidential conversation, which he had had with
the prisoner on that morning, he had asked him "how
he would like to live again with his old friends? "upon which Slover had laughed and replied, that "he
would stay until he had an opportunity of taking a scalp,
and would then steal a horse and return to the whites."
  Slover knew many of his judges by name, spoke their
language fluently, and made a vigorous defense. He
said that, during the whole twelve years of his former
captivity among them, he had given ample proofs of
his fidelity to the Indians. That, although he had a
thousand opportunities, he had never once attempted an
escape; and there were several now present who could
testifyt that at the treaty of Fort Pitt he had left them
with reluctance, in compliance with the earnest solicitations of his family. That he had then taken leave of
them publicly, in broad daylight, in time of profound
peace, and with their full approbation. That he then
had no idea of the existence of a future war; but
when war came, it was his duty to accompany his
countrymen to the field against the Indians, precisely
as he would have accompanied the Indians formerly
against the whites. That it was the undoubted duty of
every warrior to serve his country, without regard to his
own private feelings of attachment; that he had done
so; and if the Indians thought it worthy of death, they
could inflict the penalty upon him!-he was alone, and
in their power. That Mr. Girty's assertion was positively false: he had not exchanged a syllable with him,
beyond a brief and cold salutation, when they had met
in the morning, not to mention the absurdity of supposing that, if he had really entertained such an idea, he
          15
151
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
would have communicated it to Girty!-the sworn
enemy of the whites, and, as he believed, his own personal enemy.
  This vigorous and natural defense seemed to make
some impression upon his enemies. Girty's assertion was
so strikingly improbable that very few gave it credit,
and some of Slover's old friends exerted themselves
actively in his behalf. The council suspended their
decision for several days, and, in the meantime, endeavored to gain information from him as to the present
condition of Virginia. Slover informed them that Cornwallis had been captured, together with his whole army,
which astonished them much, and compelled them to
utter some deep guttural interjections. But Girty and
McKey became very angry, swore that it was a lie, and
renewed their exertions, with increased ardor, to have
him brought to the stake. While his trial was pending,
he was unbound and unguarded, was invited to all their
dances, and suffered to reside, as an inmate, in the cabin
of an old squaw, who treated him with great affection.
  Girty was blustering, ferocious, and vulgar in his
manners; but McKey was silent, grave and stern, never
addressing Slover, and seldom sp,-aking in council. He
lived apart from the rest in a handsome house, built of
white-oak logs, elegantly hewed, and neatly covered with
shingles. His hatred to the whites was deep and inveterate, and his influence was constantly exerted
against every prisoner who came bef,re him. They
spared no pains in endeavoring to entrap Slover into
some unguarded words, which might injure him with
the Indians. A white man one morning asked Slover
to walk out with him, as he had something of importance to communicate.
  As soon as they had gained the fields, the fellow
halted, and, in a confidential tone, informed Slover that
he had two brothers living upon the banks of the Potomac, whom he was desirous of seeing again; that the
Indians had given him his life for the pre~ent, but they
were such capricious devils that there was no confidence
to be placed in them, and he felt disposed to escape
while it was in his power, if Slover would accompany
152.
JOHN SLO VER.
him. Slover heard him coldly, and, with an appearance
of great surprise, blamed him for entertaining so rash
a project, and assured him that- he was determined
to encounter no such risk. The emissary of Girty and
McKey returned instantly to the council, and reported
that Slover had eagerly entered into the project, and
was desirous of escaping that evening.
  Two days afterward, a very large council was held,
being composed of warriors firom the Shawnee, Delaware, Wyandott, Chippewa, and Mingo tribes.      Two
Indians came to the wigwam, in order to conduct
Slover once more before his judges, but the old squaw
concealed him beneath a large bear-skin, and fell upon
the two messengers so fiercely with her tongue that they
were compelled to retreat with some precipitation. This
zeal in his service, on the part of the old squaw, was
rather alarming than gratilying to Slover, for he rightly
conjectured that something evil was brewing, which he
knew that she would be unable to avert. He was not
long in suspense. Within two hours, Girty came into
the hut, followed by more than forty warriors, and seizing Slover, stripped him naked, bound his hands behind
him, painted his body black, and bore him off with great
violence. Girty exulted greatly in the success of' his
efforts, and loaded him with curses and reproaches,
assuring him that he would now get what he had long
deserved.
  The prisoner was borne off to a town at the distance
of five miles from Waughcotomoco, where he was met,
as usual, by all the inhabitants, and beaten, in the
ordinary manner, for one hour. They then carried him
to another little village, about two miles distant, where
a stake and hickory poles had been prepared, in order
to burn him that evening. The scene of his intended
execution was the council-house, a part of which was
covered with shingles, and the remainder entirely open
at the top, and very slightly boarded at the sides. In
the open space, a pole had been sunk in the ground,
and the faggots collected. Slover was dragged to the
stake, his hands bound behind him, and then fastened
to the pole, as in Crawford's case.
. 153
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR. Xi

Kentucky statesman. But this scrutiny, Mr. Chairman, it is our
duty to give. Let the romantic dreamer of the closet unbridle
his fancy, if he please, and overlooking all obstacles suggested by
reason and experience, let him career at will among the clouds,
sunbeams, and golden vapors of romance and fiction-—ours is a
more homely and more severe duty.”

He then took up, in their order, the four positions on which
the friends of the measure rested its cla.ims, compared them with
the provisions of the bill, and examined the whole subject in a
searching and powerful analysis. He showed himself master of
the great questions of banking, commerce, and political econ-
omy, and exposed the fallacy of the assumption that the bank
was needed or fitted to stimulate and regulate commerce, or to
correct and lower the exchanges, or that it could build the road,
or that the road could be built without heavy taxation. In coni-
menting upon the claim of Carolina to control the operations of
the vast scheme, with lofty and swelling form and flashing eyes,
he exclaimed:

“Sir, the money-power of a nation is the crown and scepter
of sovereignty. It is the eagleaplume in the cap, the brightest
jewel of the diadem. Strike it out, yield it into the hands of a
foreign government, and the sovereignty of that nat.ion is gone.
The same tremendous power which the mother bank of the
United States possessed over the branches established in the
States, this bill now proposes to give, not to the Union of all the
States, not to Congress, where we are represented and have a
voice potential and proportioned to our political strength, but
to a junto of nullifiers in the city of Charleston. Sir, if it was
with reluctance that Kentucky yielded this power to a bank
controlled by the General Government, of which she is a part
and where her voice is heard, how much more reluctantly
should she yield her neck to the yoke of haughty Carolina, in
whose councils she has no voice, whose principles are at war
with ours, whose designs are treasonable to this fair and noble
Union, who is fettered to the chariot—wheels of John C. Calhoun,
wheeling as he wheels, and obeying his every nod, beck, and
signal. Strike out that section, sir, so degrading to Kentucky,
or war to the knife is the cry of its opponents. But, sir, they
do not choose to have it stricken out. Money-power, commer-
cial sovereignty, is What that haughty State Wants, and she had
rather lose her bank than lose that section that places the bit in
our mouths and the reins in her hands. I have myself explained
to her Commissioner how hateful that section was to our feelings,
how revolting to our pride; and have told him that the bank
might pass, if it was stricken out. But no! ant Caesar, ant m'lnT£!
She must queen it over fo11r States, or she does not want the
bank. She herself is too proud to submit to a United States
bank. The power is too great. But she is perfectly willing to
wield that power herself with which she is afraid to trust the
General Government. She wants a Sub-treasury at New York!

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
  Fire was quickly applied to the faggots, which began
to blaze briskly. An orator then, as usual, addressed
the assembly, in order to inflame their passions to the
proper height. Slover, seeing his fate inevitable, rallied his courage, and prepared to endure it with firmness. For the last half hour the wind had been high,
but the clouds were light, and appeared drifting rapidly
away.   While the orator was speaking, however, the
wind suddenly lulled, and a heavy shower of rain fell,
which instantly extinguished the fire, and drenched the
prisoner and his enemies to the skin. Poor Slover, who
had been making preparations to battle with fire, was
asto!iished at finding himself deluged, all at once, with
so different an element, and the enemy seemed no less so.
They instantly ran under the covered part of the house,
and left the prisoner to take the rain freely, assuring
him, from time to time, that he should be burned on
the following morning.
  As soon as the rain ceased, they again surrounded
him, dancing around the stake, kicking him severely,
and striking him with sticks, until eleven o'clock at
night. A tall young chief, named "Half Moon," then
stooped down and asked the prisoner if " he was not
sleepy?" Slover, somewhat astonished at such a question, and at such a time, replied in the affirmative.
Half Moon then untied him, conducted him into a
strong block-house, pinioned his arms until the buffalo.
tug was buried in the flesh, and then, passing another
thong around his neck, and tying the other end to one
of the beams of the house, left him under a strong
guard, exhorting him to sleep soundly, for that he must
"eat fire in the morning."
   The prisoner, on the contrary, never closed his eyes,
awaiting anxiously until his guard should fall asleep.
They showed, however, no inclination to indulge him.
Two of them lay down a little after midnight, but the
third sat up talking and smoking until nearly daylight.
He endeavored to entertain Slover, by speculations
upon his (Slover's) ability to bear pain, handling the
painful subject with the zest of an amateur, and recounting to the prisoner the particulars of many ex154
JOHN SLO VER.
hibitions of the same kind which he had witnessed.
He dwelt upon the entertainment which he had no
doubt Slover would afford, exhorting him to bear it
like a man, and not forget that he had once been an
Indian  himself.. Upon    this torturing  subject he
talked, and smoked, and talked again, until the prisoner's nerves tingled, as if the hot irons were actually
hissing against his flesh.
  At length the tedious old man's head sunk gradually
upon his breast, and Slover heard him snoring loudly.
He paused a few moments, listening intently. His
heart beat so strongly, that he was fearful lest the
Indians should hear it, and arrest him in his last
eff,rt to escape. They did not stir, however, and with
trembling hands he endeavored to slip the cords from
his arms over his wrists. In this he succeeded without
much difficulty, but the thong around his neck was
more obstinate. He attempted to gnaw it in two, but
it was as thick as his thumb, and as hard as iron,
being made of a seasoned buffllo's hide. Daylight
was fainitly breaking in the east, and he expected every
moment that his tormentors would summon him to the
stake. In the agony and earnestness of his feelings,
the sweat rolled in big drops down his forehead, and
the quickness of his breathing awakened the old man.
   Slover lay still, fearful of being detected, and kept
his arms under his back. The old Indian yawned,
stretched himself, stirred the fire, and then lay down
again, and began to snore as loudly as ever. Now
was the time or never! He seized the rope with both
hand&, and giving it several quick jerks, could scarcely
believe his senses when he saw the knot come untied,
and felt himself at liberty. He arose lightly, stepped
silently over the bodies of the sleeping Indians, and
in a moment stood in the open air. Day was just
breaking, and the inhabitants of the village had not
yet arisen. He looked around for a moment to see
whether he was observed, and then ran hastily into a
cornfield in order to conceal himself. On the road he
had nearly stumbled upon a squaw and several children, who were asleep under a tree.
155
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
   Hastily avoiding them, he ran through the cornfield,
and observing a number of horses on the other side,
he paused a moment, untied the cord which still confined his right arm, and hastily fitting it into a halter,
approached a fine strong colt, about four years old,
that fortunately proved as gentle as he could wish.
Fancying that he heard a door open behind him, he
sprung upo)n his back as lightly as a squirrel, although
every limb was bruised and- swollen by the severe
beating of the preceding night, and as the woods were
open and the ground level, he put his horse to his
utmost speed, and was soon out of sight. Confident
that pursuit would not be delayed more than fifteen
minutes, he never slackened his speed until about ten
o'clock in the day, when he reached the Scioto, at a
point fully fifty miles distant from the village which
he had left at daylight.
  He here paused a moment, and allowed the noble
animal, who had borne him so gallantly, to breathe for
a few minutes. Fearing, however, that the enemy had
pursued him with the same mad violence, he quickly
mounted his horse again, and plunged into the Scioto,
which was now swollen by the recent rains. His
horse stemmed the current handsomely, but began to
fail in ascending the opposite bank. He still, however, urged him to full speed, and by three o'clock had
left the Scioto more than twenty miles behind, when
his horse sunk under him, having galloped upwards
of seventy miles. Slover instantly sprang from his
back, and ran on foot until sunset. Halting tfor a
moment, he heard a halloo far behind him, and seeing
the keenness of the pursuit, he continued to run until
ten o'clock at night, when he sunk upon the ground,
and vomited violently. In two hours the moon arose,
which he knew would enable the enemy to follow his
trail through the night; and again starting up, he ran
forward until day.
  During the night, he had followed a path; but in
the morning, he abandoned it, and, changing his course,
followed a high ridge, covered with rank grass and
weeds, which he carefully put back with a stick as he
156
JOHN SLOVER.
passed through it, in order to leave as indistinct a
trail as possible. On that evening he reached some
of the tributaries of the Muskingum, where his naked
and blistered skin attracted millions of mosquitoes,
that followed him day and night, effectually prevented
his sleeping, and carefully removed such particles of
skin as the nettles had left, so that, if his own account
is to be credited, upon reaching the Muskingum, which
he did on the third day, he had been completely peeled
from  head to foot. Here he found a few wild raspberries, which was the first food he had tasted for four
days. He had never felt hunger, but suffered much
from faintness and exhaustion. He swam the Muskingum at Old Comer's town, and, looking back, thought
that he put a great deal of ground between himself
and the stake at which he had been bound near Waughcotomoco; and that it would be very strange if, having
been brought thus far, he should again fall into the
power of the enemy.
  On the next day, he reached Stillwater, where he
caught two crawfish, and devoured them raw. Two
days afterward, he struck the Ohio River immediately
opposite Wheeling, and perceiving a man standing upon
the island, he called to him, told him his name, and
asked him to bring over a canoe for him. The fellow at
first was very shy; but Slover having told the names of
many officers and privates, who had accompanied the expedition, he was at length persuaded to venture across,
and the fugitive was safely transported to the Virginia
shore, after an escape which has few parallels in real life,
and which seems even to exceed the bounds of probable
fiction.
0
157
WESTERN ADYENTURE.
               CHAPTER VII.
N the present chapter, we shall notice several circum   stances in the order in which they occurred, none of
which, singly, are of sufficient importance to occupy a
chapter to themselves. In the autumn of 1779, a number of keel-boats were ascending the Ohio under the
command of Major Rodgers, and had advanced as far
as the mouth of Licking without accident. Here, however, they observed a few Indians, standing upon the
southern extremity of a sand bar, while a canoe, rowed
by three others, was in the act of putting off from the
Kentucky shore, as if for the purpose of taking them
aboard. Rodgers instantly ordered the boats to be
made fast on the Kentucky shore, while the crew, to
the number of seventy men, well armed, cautiously advanced in such a manner as to encircle the spot where
the enemy had been seen to land. Only five or six
Indians had been seen, and no one dreamed of encountering more than fifteen or twenty enemies.
  When Rodgers, however, had, as he supposed, completely surrounded the enemy, and was preparing to
rush upon them from several quarters at once, he was
thunderstruck at beholding several hundred savages
suddenly spring up in front, rear, and upon both flanks!
They instantly poured in a close discharge of rifles, and
then, throwing down their guns, fell upon the survivors
with the tomahawk. The panic was complete and the
slaughter prodigious. Major Rodgers, together with
forty-five of his men, were almost instantly destroyed.
The survivors made an effort to regain their boats, but
the five men who had been left in charge of them had
immediately put off from shore in the hindmost boat,
and the enemy had already gained possession of the
158
ROBERT BENHAM.
others. Disappointed in the attempt, they turned furiously upon the enemy, and, aided by the approach of
darkness, forced their way through their lines, and with
the loss of several severely wounded, at length effected
their escape to Harrodsburg.
  Among the wounded was Captain ROBERT BENHAM.
Shortly after breaking through the enemy's line, he was
shot through both hips, and, the bones being shattered,
he instantly fell to the ground. Fortunately, a large
tree had lately fallen near the spot where he lay, and
with great pain, he dragged himself into the top, and lay
concealed among the branches. The Indians, eager in
pursuit of the others, passed him without notice, and
by midnight all was quiet. On the following day,
the Indians returned to the battle-ground, in order to
strip the dead and take care of the boats. Benham,
although in danger of famishing, permitted them to
pass without making known his condition, very correctly
supposing that his crippled legs would only induce them
to tomahawk him upon the spot, in order to avoid the
trouble of carrying him to their town.
  He lay close, therefore,'until the evening of the
second day, when, perceiving a raccoon descending a
tree near him, he shot it, hoping to devise some means
of reaching it, when he could kindle a fire and make
a meal. Scarcely had his gun cracked, however, when
he heard a human cry, apparently not more than fifty
yards off. Supposing it to be an Indian, he hastily
reloaded his gun, and remained silent, expecting the
approach of an enemy. Presently the same voice was
heard again, but much nearer. Still Benham made
no reply, but cocked his gun, and sat ready to fire as
soon as an object appeared. A third halloo was quickly
heard, followed by an exclamation of impatience and
distress, which convinced Benham that the unknown
must be a Kentuckian. As soon, therefore, as he heard
the expression, " Whoever you are, for God's sake, answer me! " he replied with readiness, and the parties
were soon together.
  Benham, as we have already observed, was shot through
both legs. The man who now appeared had escaped
159
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
from the same battle, with both arms broken! Thus each
was enabled to supply what the other wanted. Benham, having the perfect use of his arms, could load his
gun and kill game with great readiness, while his
friend, having the use of his legs, could kick the game
to the spot where Benham sat, who was thus enabled
to cook it. When no wood was near them, his companion would rake up brush with his feet, and gradually roll it within reach of Benham's hands, who constantly fed his companion, and dressed his wounds as
well as his own-tearing up both of their shirts for that
purpose. They found some difficulty in procuring water
at first; but Benham, at length, took his own hat, and
placing the rim between the teeth of his companion,
directed him to wade into the Licking up to his neck,
and dip the hat into the water by sinking his own
head. The man who could walk was thus enabled to
bring water, by means of his teeth, which Benham could
afterward dispose of as was necessary.
  In a few days, they had killed all the squirrels and
birds within reach, and the man with the broken arms
was sent out to drive game within gunshot of the spot
to which Benham was confined. Fortunately, wild
turkeys were abundant in those woods, and his companion would walk around and drive them toward Benham,
who seldom failed to kill two or three of each flock. In
this manner they supported themselves for several
weeks, until their wounds had healed so as to enable
them to travel. They then shifted their quarters, and
put up a small shed at the mouth of the Licking, where
they encamped until late in November, anxiously expecting the arrival of some boat which should convey
them to the Falls of Ohio.
  On the twenty-seventh of November, they observed a
flat-boat moving leisurely down the river. Benham
instantly hoisted his hat upon a stick and hallooed loudly
for help. The crew, however, supposing them to be
Indians-at least suspecting them of an attempt to decoy them ashore-paid no attention to their signals of
distress, but instantly put over to the opposite side of
the river, and, manning every oar, endeavored to pass
160
ALEXANDER McCONNEL.
them as rapidly as possible. Benham beheld them
pass him with a sensation bordering on despair; for
the place was much frequented by Indians, and the approach of winter threatened them with destruction unless speedily relieved. At length, after the boat had
passed him nearly half a mile, he saw a canoe put off
from its stern, and cautiously approach the Kentucky
shore, evidently reconnoitering them with great suspicion.
  He called loudly upon them for assiAtance, mentioned
his name, and made known his condition. After a
long parley, and many evidences of reluctance on the
part of the crew, the canoe at leiingth touched the shore,
and Benham and his friend were taken on board.
Their appearance excited much suspicion. They w re
almost entirelv naked, and their faces were garnished
with six weeks' growth of beard. The one was barely
able to hobble upon crutches, and the other could
manage to feed himself with one of his hands. They
were instantly taken to Louisville, where their clothes
(which had been carried off in the boat which deserted
them) were restored to them, and after a few weeks
confinement, both were perfectly restored.
  Benhamn afterward served in the North-west throughout the whole of the Indian war, accompanied the expeditions of Harmer and Wilkinson, shared in the disaster of St. Clair, and afterward in the triumph of
Wayne.    Upon the return of peace, he bought the
land upon which Rodgers had been defeated, and
ended his days in tranquillity, amid the scenes which
had witnessed his sufl'rings.
  Early in the spring of 1780, Mr. ALEXANDER MlCCONNEL, of Lexington, Ky., Went into the woods on
foot, to hunt deer. He soon killed a large buck, and
returned home for a horse, in order to bring it in.
During his absence, a party of five Indians, on one
of their usual skulking expeditions, accidentally stumbled on the body of the deer, and perceiving that it had
been recently killed, they naturally supposed that the
hunter would speedily return to secure the flesh.
161
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
Three of them, therefore, took their stations within
close rifle shot of the deer, while the other two followed the trail of the hunter, and waylaid the path
by which he was expected to return. McConnel, expecting no danger, rode carelessly along the path which
the two scouts were watching, until he had come
within view of the deer, when lie was fired upon by the
whole party, and his horse killed. While laboring to
extricate himself from the dying animal, he was seized
by his enemies, instantly overpowered, and borne off
as a prisoner.
  His captors, however, seemed to be a merry, goodnatured set of fellows, and permitted him to accompany them unbound; and, what was rather extraordinary, allowed him to retain his gun and hunting accouterments. He accompanied them with great apparant cheerfulness through the day, and displayed his
dexterity in shooting deer for the use of the company,
until they began to regard him with great partiality.
Having traveled with them in this manner for several
days, they at length reached the banks of the Ohio
River. Heretofore, the Indians had taken the precaution to bind him at night, although not very securely;
but on that evening, he remonstrated with them on the
subject, and complained so strongly of the pain which
the cords gave him, that they merely wrapped the buffalo tug loosely around his wrists, and having tied it
in an easy knot, and attached the extremities of the
rope to their own bodies, in order to prevent his nimoving without awakening them, they very composedly
went to sleep, leaving the prisoner to follow their example or not, as he pleased.
  McConnel determined to effect his escape that night,
if possible, as on the following night they would cross
the river, which would render it much more difficult.
He, therefore, lay quietly until near midnight, anxiously ruminating upon the best means of effecting his
objoct. Accidentallyv casting his eyes in the direction
of his feet, they fell upon the glittering blade of a
knife, which had escaped its sheath, and was now lying
near the feet of one of the Indians. To reach it with
162
ALEXANDER MlcGONNEL.
his hands, without disturbing the two Indians, to whom
he was fastened, was impossible, and it was very Iazardous to attempt to draw it up with his feet. This,
however, he attempted.     With much difficulty he
grasped the blade between his toes, and after repeated
and long-continued efforts, succeeded at length in bringing it within reach of his hands.
  To cut his cords, was then but the work of a moment, and gradually and silently extricating his person
from the arms of the Indians, he walked to the fire
and sat down. He saw that his work was but half
done; that if he should attempt to return home, without destroying his enemies, he would assuredly be pursued and probably overtaken, when his fate would be
certain. On the other hand, it seemed almost impossible for a single man to succeed in a conflict with five
Indians, even although unarmed and asleep. He could
not hope to deal a blow with his knife so silently and
fatally, as to deAtroy each one of his enemies in turn,
without awakening the rest. Their slumbers were proverbially light and restless; and if he failed with a
single one, he must instantly be overpowered by the
survivors.  The knife, therefore, was out of the question.
  After anxious reflection for a few minutes, he formed
his plan. The guns of the Indians were stacked near
the fire; their knives and tomahawks were in sheaths
by their sides. The latter he dared not touch for fear
of awakening their owners; but the former he carefully removed, with the exception of two, and hid them
in the woods, where he knew the Indians would not
readily find them. He then returned to the spot
where the Indians were still sleeping, perfectly ignorant of the fate preparing for them, and taking a gun
in each hand, he rested the muzzles upon a log within
six feet of his victims, and having taken deliberate
aim at the head of one and the heart of another, he
pulled both triggers at the same moment.
  Both shots were fatal. At the report of their guns
the others sprung to their feet, and stared wildly
around them. McConnel, who had run instantly to
163
Eihrarg

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xii BI OGRAPII Y OF THE A UTHOR.

but a Southern confederated bank at Charleston, embracing four
States, with the Charleston junto holding the reins, curbing the
four horses in her chariot, and hold’ g them to the track as suits
her purposes. VVhat are those pl¥I?pOSeS, sir? Do they bode
peace to the Union, harmony to this beautiful Confederacy of
sister States? Has she abandoned her wild dream of nu11ifica-
tion and dismemberment? Oh, yes, says her Comniissioner; she
has abandoned all those wild visions; she loves this Union; she
has no dark designs of dismemberment. She does not wish, by
her commercial bank, to league together four States against a
National Bank and a National Union, and to bind them to her
chariot—\\-‘heels by fetters of silver, against the coming trouble
which she is daily fomenting on the floor of Congress, and daily
striving to accelerate by the harsh and inflammatory course of
her representatives in Congress! There is no design, sir——none
in the worldl_ Then, gentlemen, strike out that section! ‘Out
with that damned spot,’ which puts a yoke upon the neck of
Kentucky, and the reins in the hands of South Carolina. Sir,
we are proud of our native State. She stands upon a level with
any other State. She is true to this Union, to the last of her
steel and the last of her breath. She has proved it, sir, in times
of blood and danger. VVhere is the battle-field within her reach
where her war-cry has not been heard, and where her rifles have
not sounded? Upon the land and upon the water, upon the
beechen flats of the Thames, and the cypress savannahs of the
Mississippi, her sons have offered their breasts to _the foe, and
poured out their hearts’ blood as freely as the flask gives its wine
to the revel. When the blue waters of Erie blushed red With
the life-current of our seamen, Kentucky was there. When the
cypress plains of New Orleans pealed to the earthquake shout of
victory, Kentucky was there.”

Discomfiture and dismay in the ene1ny’s ranks succeeded the
flush and hope of triumph,.as position after position was car-
ried. Unpausing and still onward, with the precision of a serried
host and the measured tread of massed battalions in, column of
attack, his great argument moved steadily and surely upon the
remaining strongholds. The charge was irresistible. A gallant
effort was made to rally the shattered forces, and a splendid
passage of arms between Memminger and Thomas F. Marshall
formally closed the conflict; but all was unavailing. The blow
delivered by McClung was mortal; there was no recovery. The
power of the ‘South was broken; the scheme was crushed, and
Kentucky safe.

The impression of this noble effort throughout the State was
very great; and had he been ambitious, he could easily have
reached high honors from a grateful‘ and admiring people. But
herdeclined all solicitations, and never afterward returned to
public life. It was entirely unsuited to his habits, to his tastes,

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
the spot where the other rifles were hid, hastily seized
one of them and fired at two of his enemies, who happened to stand in a line with each other. The nearest
fell dead, being shot through the center of the body;
the second fell also, bellowing loudly, but quickly recovering, limped off into the woods as fast as possible.
The fifth, and only one who remained unhurt, darted
off like a deer, with a yell which announced equal
terror and astonishment.  McConnel, not wishing to
fight any more such battles, selected his own rifle from
the stack, and made the best of his way to Lexington,
where he arrived safely within two days.
  Shortly afterward, Mrs. Dunlap, of Fayette, who
had been several months a prisoner amongst the Indians on Mad River, made her escape, and returned to
Lexington. Sihe reported that the survivor returned
to his tribe with a lamentable tale. He related that
they had taken a fine young hunter near Lexington,
and had brought him safely as far as the Ohio; that
while encamped upii the bank of the river, a large
party of white men had fallen upon them in the night,
and killed all his companions, together with the poor,
defenseless prisoner, who lay bound hand and foot,
unable either to escape or resist!
  Early in May, 1781, McAfee's Station, in the neighborhood  of Harrodsburgh, was alarmed. On the
morning of the ninth, SAMUEL MCAFEE, accompanied
by another man, left the fort in order to visit a small
plantation in the neighborhood, and at the distance of
three hundred yards from the gate, they were fired
upon by a party of Indians in ambush. The man
who accompanied him instantly fell, and McAfee attempted to regain the fort. While running rapidly for
that purpose, he found himself suddenly intercepted
by an Indian, who, springing out of the canebrake,
planted himself directly in his path. There was no
time for compliments. Each glared upon the other
for an instant in silence, and both raising their guns
164
SAMUEL AND R?OBERT M1cAFEE.
at the same moment, pulled the triggers together.
The Indian's rifle snapped, while McAfee's ball passed
directly through his brain. Having no time to reload
his gun, he sprang over th.e body of his antagonist,
and continued his flight to the fort.
  When within one hundred yards of the gate, he was
met by his two brothers, ROBERT and JAMIEs, who,
at the report of the guns, had hurried out to the assistance of their brother. Samuel hastily informed them
of their danger, and exhorted them instantly to return.
James readily complied, but Robert, deaf to all remonstrances, declared that he must have a view of the
dead Indian. He ran on, for that purpose, and having
regaled himself with that spectacle, was hastily returning by the same path, when he saw five or six Indians
between him and the fort, evidently bent upon taking
him alive. All his activity and presence of mind was
now put in requisition. He ran rapidly fromn tree to
tree, endeavoring to turn their flank, and reach one
of the gates, and after a variety of turns and doublings in the thick wood, he found himself pressed by
only one Indian. McAfee, hastily throwing himself
behind a feice, turned upon his pursuer, and compelled him to take shelter behind a tree.
  Both stood still for a moment, McAfee having his
gun cocked, and the sight fixed upon the tree, at the
spot where he supposed the Indian would thrust out
his head in order to have a view of his antagonist.
After waiting a few seconds he was gratified. The
Indian slowly and cautiously exposed a part of his
head, and began to elevate his rifle. As soon as a
sufficient mark presented itself McAfee fired, and the
Indian fell. While turning, in order to continue his
flight, he was fired on by a party of six, which compelled him again to tree. But scarcely had he done
so, when, from the opposite quarter he received the fire
of three more enemies, which made the bark fly around
him, and knocked up the dust about his feet. Thinking his post rather too hot for safety, he neglected all
shelter, and ran directly for the fort, which, in defiance of all opposition, he reached in safety, to the
165
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
inexpressible joy of his brothers, who had despaired
of his return.
  The Indians now opened a heavy fire upon the fort,
in their usual manner; but finding every effort useless,
they hastily decamped, without any loss beyond the
two who had fallen by the hands of the brothers, and
without having   inflicted any upon the garrison.
Within half an hour, Major McGary brought up a
party from Harrod~burg at full gallop, and uniting
with the garrison, pursued the enemy with all possible
activity. They soon overtook them, and a sharp
action ensued. The Indians were routed in a few
minutes, with the loss of six warriors left dead upon
the ground, and many others wounded, who, as usual,
were borne off. The pursuit was continued for several
miles, but from the thickness of the woods, and the
extreme activity and address of the enemy, was not
very effectual. MeGary lost one man dead upon the
spot, and another mortally wounded.
  About the same time, Bryant's Station was much
harassed by small parties of the enemy. This, as we
have already remarked, was a frontier post, and generally received the brunt of Indian hostility. It had
been settled in 1779 by four brothers from North
Carolina, one of whom, William, had married a sister
of Colonel Daniel Boone. The Indians were constantly lurking in the neighborhood, waylaying the
paths, stealing their horses, and butchering their cattle. It at length became necessary to hunt in parties
of twenty or thirty men, so as to be able to meet and
repel those attacks, which were every day becoming
more bold and frequent.
  One afrernoon, about the twentieth    of May,
WTVILLIAM BRYANT, accompanied by twenty men, left
the fort on a hunting expedition down the Elkhorn
Creek. They moved with caution, until they had
passed all the points where ambuscades had generally
been formed, when, seeing no enemy, they became more
bold, and determined, in order to sweep a large extent
166
BR YANT AND HOGAN.
of country, to divide their company into two parties.
One of them, conducted by Bryant in person, was to
descend the Elkhorn oil its southern bank, flanking
out largely, and occupy as much ground as pos:ible.
The other, under the orders of' JAMES HOGAN, a
young farmer in good circumstances, was to move
down in a parallel line upon the north bank. The
two parties were to meet at night, and encamp together
at the mouth of Cane Run.
  Each punctually performed the first part of their
plans. Hogan, however, had traveled but a few hundied yards, when he heard a loud voice behind him
exclaim, in very good English, "Stop, boys! " Hastily
looking back, they saw several Indians, on foot, pursuing them as rapidly as possible. Without halting
to count numbers, the party put spurs to their horses,
and dashed through the woods at full speed, the Indians keeping clo-e behind them, and at times gaining
upon them. There was a led horse in company, which
had been brought with them for the purpose of packing game. This was instantly albandoned, and fell into
the hands of the Indians. Several of them lost their
hats in the eagerness of flight; but quickly getting into
the open woods, they left their pursuers so far behind,
that they had leisure to breathe, and inquire of each
other whether it was worth while to kill their horses
before they had ascertained the number of the enemy.
  They quickly determined to cross the creek, and await
the approach of the Indians. If they found them
superior to their own and Biryant's party united, they
would immediately return to the fort; as, by continuing
their march to the mouth of Cane Run, they would
bring a superior enemy upon their friends, and endanger
the lives of the whole party. They accordingly crossed
the creek, dismounted, and awaited the approach of the
enemy. By this time it had become dark. The Indians
were distinctly heard approaching the creek upon the
opposite side, and, after a short halt, a solitary warrior
descended the bank, and began to wade through the
stream.
  Hogan waited until he had emerged from the gloom
         16
167
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
of the trees which grew upon the bank, and as soon as
he had reached the middle of the stream, where the light
was more distinct, he took deliberate aim and fired. A
great splashing in the water was heard, but presently
all became quiet. The pursuit was discontinued, and
the party, remounting their horses, returned home.
Anxious, however, to apprise Bryant's party of their
danger, they left the fort before daylight on the ensuing
morning, and rode rapidly down the creek, in the
direction of the mouth of Cane. When within a few
hundred yards of the spot where they supposed the encampment to be, they heard the report of many guns in
quick succession, Supposing that Bryant had fallen in
with a herd of buffalo, they quickened their march, in
order to take part in the sport.
  The morning was foggy, and the smoke of the guns
lay so heavily upon the ground that they could see
nothing until they had approached within twenty yards
of the creek, when they suddenly found themselves
within pistol-shot of a party of Indians, very composedly seated upon their packs, and preparing their
pipes. Both parties were much startled, but quickly
recovering, they sheltered themselves as usual, and the
action opened with great vivacity. The Indians maintained their ground for half an hour with some firmness, but being hard pressed in front, and turned in
flank, they at length gave way, and being closely pursued, were ultimately routed, with considerable loss,
which, however, could not be distinctly ascertained.
O' Hogan's party, one man was killed on the spot, and
three others wounded, none mortally.
  It happened that Bryant's company had encamped at
the mouth of Cane, as had been agreed upon, and were
unable to account for Hogan's absence. That, about
daylight, they had heard a bell at a distance, which
they immediately recognized as the one belonging to the
led horse which had accompanied Hogan's party, and
which, as we have seen, had been abandoned to the
enemy the evening before. Supposing their friends to
be bewildered in the fog, and unable to find their camp,
Bryant, accompanied by Grant, one of his men, mounted
168
McKINLE Y.
a horse, and rode to the spot where the bell was still
ringing. They quickly fell into an ambuscade, and
were fired upon. Bryant was mortally, and Grant
severely wounded, the first being shot through the hip
and both knees, the latter through the back.
  Being both able to keep the saddle, however, they
set spurs to their horses, and arrived at the station
shortly after breakfast. The Indians, in the meantime,
had fallen upon the encampmerit, and instantly dispersed it; and, while preparing to regale themselves
after their victory, were suddenly attacked, as we have
seen, by Hogan. The timidity of Hogan's party, at
the first appearance of the Indians, was the cause of
the death of Bryant. The same men who fled so hastily
in the evening, were able the next morning, by a little
firmness, to vanquish the same party of Indians. Had
they stood at first, an equal success would probably
have attended them, and the life of their leader would
have been preserved.
  We have now to notice an adventure of a different
kind, and which, from its singularity, is entitled to a
place in our pages. In 1783, Lexington was only a
cluster of cabins, one of which, near the spot where the
court-house now stands, was used as a school-house.
One morning in May, McKINNEY, the teacher, was
sitting alone at his desk, busily engaged in writing,
when, hearing a slight noise at the door, he turned his
head and beheld-what do you suppose, reader? A tall
Indian in his war paint, brandishing his tomahawk or
handling his knife? No! an enormous cat, with her
forefeet upon the step of the door, her tail curled over
her back, her bristles erect, and her eyes glancing
rapidly through the room, as if in search of a mouse.
  McKinney's position at first completely concealed him,
but a slight and involuntary motion of his chair, at
sight of this shaggy inhabitant of the forest, attracted
p)uss's attention, and their eyes met. McKinney, having
heard much of the power of " the human face divine,"
in quelling the audacity of wild animals, attempted to
169
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
disconcert the intruder by a frown. But puss was not
to be bullied. Her eyes flashed fire, her tail waved
angrily, and she began to gnash her teeth, evidently
bent upon serious hostility. Seeing his danger, McKinney hastily arose and attempted to snatch a cylindrical
rule from a table which stood within reach, but the
cat was too quick for him.
  Darting upon him with the proverbial activity of her
tribe, she fastened upon his side with her teeth, and
began to rend and tear with her claws like a fury.
McKinney's clothes were, in an instant, torn from his
side, and his flesh dreadfully mangled by the enraged
animal, whose strength and ferocity filled him with
astonishment. He in vain attempted to disengage her
from his side. Her long sharp teeth were fastened between his ribs, and his efforts served but to enrage
her the more    Seeing his blood flow very copiously
from the numerous wounds in his side, he became
seriously alarmed, and not knowing what else to do, he
threw himself upon the edge of the table, and pressed
her against the sharp corner with the whole weight of
his body.
  The cat now began to utter the most wild and discordant cries, and McKinney at the same time lifting
up his voice in concert, the two together sent forth
notes so doleful as to alarm the whole town. Women,
who are always the first in hearing or spreading news,
were now the first to come to McKinney's assistance.
But so strange and unearthly was the harmony within
the school-house, that they hesitated long before they
ventured to enter. At length the boldest of them
rushed in, and seeing McKinney bending over the corner of the table, and writhing his body as if in great
pain, she at first supposed that he was laboring under a
severe fit of the colic; but quickly perceiving the cat,
which was now in the agonies of death, she screamed
out, "Why, good heaven! Mr. McKinney, what is the
matter?"
   "I have caught a cat, madam!" replied he, gravely
turning around, while the sweat streamed from his face,
under the mingled operation of fright, and fatigue, and
170
DA VID MORGAN.
agony. Most of the neighbors had now arrived, and
attempted to disengage the dead cat from her antagonist; but so firmly were her tusks locked between his
ribs, that this was a work of no small difficulty.
Scarcely had it been effected, when McKinney became
very sick, and was compelled to go to bed. In a few
days, however, he had totally recovered, and so late as
1820 was alive, and a resident of Bourbon County, Ky.,
where he was often heard to affirm, that he, at any time,
had rather fight two Indians than one wild cat.
  About the same time, a conflict more unequal, and
equally remarkable, took place in another part of the
country. DAVID MORGAN, a relation of the celebrated
General Daniel Morgan, had settled upon the Monongahela during the earlier period of the Revolutionary war,
and at this time had ventured to occupy a cabin at the
distance of several miles from any settlement. One
morning, having sent his younger children out to a field,
at a considerable distance from the house, he became
uneasy about them, and repaired to the spot where they
were working, armed, as usual, with a good rifle. While
sitting upon the fence, and giving some directions as to
their work, he observed two Indians upon the other side
of the field, gazing earnestly upon the party. He instantly called to the children to make their escape, while
he should attempt to cover their retreat.
  The odds were greatly against him, as, in addition to
other circumstances, he was nearly seventy years of
age, and, of course, unable to contend with his enemies
in running. The house was more than a mile distant,
but the children, having two hundred yards the start,
and being effectually covered by their father, were soon
so far in front that the Indians turned their attention
entirely to the old man. He ran,, for several hundred
yards, with an activity which astonished himself, but
perceiving that he would be overtaken long before he
could reach his home, he fairly turned at bay, and prepared for a strenuous resistance. The woods, through
which they were running, were very thin, and consisted
171
WESTERN AD VEN TUE.
almost entirely of small trees, behind which it was
difficult to obtain proper shelter.
  When Morgan adopted the above-mentioned resolution, he had just passed a large walnut, which stood like
a patriarch among the saplings which surrounded it,
and it became necessary to run back about ten steps in
order to regain it. The Indians became startled at the
sudden advance of the fugitive, and were compelled
to halt among a cluster of saplings, where they anxiously strove to shelter themselves. This, however, was
impossible; and Morgan, who was an excellent marksman, saw enough of the person of one of them to justify
him in risking a shot. His enemy instantly fell, mortally wounded. The other Indian, taking advantage
of Morgan's empty gun, sprung from his shelter and
advanced rapidly upon him. The old man, having no
time to reload his gun, was compelled to fly a second
time. The Indian gained rapidly upon him, and when
within twenty steps, fired, but with so unsteady an aim
that Morgan was totally unhurt, the ball having passed
over his shoulder.
  He now again stood at bay, clubbing his rifle for a
blow; while the Indian, dropping his empty gun, brandished his tomahawk and prepared to throw it at his
enemy. Morgan struck with the butt of' his gun and
the Indian whirled his tomahawk at one and the same
moment. Both blows took effect, and both were at
once wounded and disarmed. The breech of the rifle
was broken against the Indian's skull, and the edge of
the tomahawk was shattered against the barrel of the
rifle, having first cut off two of' the fingers of' Morgan's
left hand. The Indian then attempting to draw his
knife, Morgan grappled him and bore him to the ground.
A furious struggle ensued, in which the old man's
strength failed, and the Indian succeeded in turning
him.
  Planting his knee in the breast of his enemy, and
yelling loudly, as is usual with them upon any turn of
fortune, he agoin felt for his knife, in order to terminate
the struggle at once; but having lately stolen a woman's
apron, and tied it around his waist, his knife was so
172
DA VID JMOR GAN.
much confined that he had great difficulty in finding
the handle. Morgan, in the meantime, being a regular
pugilist, according to the custom of Virginia, and perfectly at home in a ground struggle, took advantage of
the awkwardness of the Indian, and got one of the fingers of his right hand between his teeth. The Indian
tugged and roared in vain, struggling to extricate it.
Morgan held him fast, and began to assist him in hunting for the knife. Each seized it at the same moment,
the Indian by the blade and Morgan by the handle, but
with a very slight hold.
  The Indian, having the firmest hold, began to draw
the knife fturther out of its sheath, when Morgan, suddenly giving his finger a furious bite, twitched the
knife dexterously through his hand, cutting it severely.
Both now sprang to their feet, Morgan brandishing
his adversary's knife, and still holding his finger between his teeth. In vain the poor Indian struggled to
get away, rearing, plunging, and bolting, like an unbroken colt. The teeth of the white man were like a
vise, and he at length succeeded in giving him a stab
in the side. The Indian received it without falling, the
knife having struck his ribs; but a second blow, aimed
at the stomach, proved more effectual, and the savage
fell. Morgan thrust the knife, handle and all, into the
cavity of the body, directed it upward, and starting to
his feet, made the best of his way home.
  The neighborhood was quickly alarmed; and, hurrying to the spot where the struggle had taken place,
they found the first Indian lying where he had fallen,
but the second had disappeared. A broad trail of blood,
however, conducted to a fallen tree-top, within one
hundred yards of the spot, into which the poor fellow
had dragged himself, and where he now lay bleeding,
but still alive. He had plucked the knife from his
wound, and was endeavoring to dress it with the stolen
apron-which had cost him his life-when his enemies
approached. The love of life appeared still strong within
him, however. He greeted them     with what was intended for an insinuating smile, held out his hand and
exclaimed, in broken English, "How de do, broder?
173
I BIOGRAPHY or THE A UTIIOR. X51

and to the inclinations and temper of his mind. Besides, his
health was infirm, and he could illy endure the excitements
and harrassments ‘of political strife. Accordingly, he quietly
resumed his profession, and met the demands of a laborious
practice until the close of 1849.

On the 20th of January, 1848, by special invitation, he deliv-
ered, in Frankfort, an address before the Kentucky Colonization
Society. It was very able, and has been greatly commended.
He undertook to show that slavery, in the Northern Slave States,
at least, was not a permanent but merely a temporary institu-
tion, which was slowly receding South, and would certainly dis-
appear; that this recession did not rid those States of the black
population, but left them encumbered with free blacks; and
lastly, that this society would not only relieve those States of
that encumbrance, but would, in all probability, become the
agent for regenerating the African continent, and converting it
into the seat of great civilized and Christian nations.

The first two great propositions he demonstrated rigidly by a
comprehensive and exhaustive examination of the census re-
turns, from 1790 to 1840, for the States of Rhode Island, Con-
necticut, Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Mary-
land, District of Columbia, Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky,
and Missouri. He claimed that a great law was in operation,
and closed this branch of his address in these words:

“There are in the natural as in the moral world great and
slow movements, both of recessson and advance, often continued
through centuries of change, which arrest the eye of the natural-
ist and philosopher, the final result of which is confidently pre-
dicted long before it is clearly unfolded to the busy masses of
mankind. No naturalist hesitates with absolute certainty to de-
clare that the buffalo, the beaver, and the Indian races, are draw-
ing near the close of their career, and destined, in a few brief
years, to disappear forever. Their recession, from east to west,
commenced nearly three centuries ago, when the bark of the
Pilgrims first grated upon the Plymouth sands. The fated race
of the Anglo-Saxon came over the blue waters from the distant
east, and from that moment the death-knell of the indigenous
tribes has wrung mournfully in the ear of the world. No hu-
man power, not the combined armies and navies of Christen-
dom, no paper protests, or legislative enactments, can arrest the
melancholy march of the Indian race to their ocean-grave in the
far west. . . . No less distinct, although of far later origin, is
the recession of the Spanish and the advance of the Anglo-Saxon
race from north to south. . . . For good or for evil, for weal or
woe, the Anglo—Saxon race advances, westward and southward,
with a haughty step which no barrier can arrest; and the Indian

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
how de do? Glad to see you!" But, poor fellow! the
love was all on his side. Their brotherhood extended
only to tomahawking, scalping, and skinning him, all of
which operations were performed within a few minutes
after the meeting. To such an extent had mutual injury inflamed both parties.
  About the middle of July, 1782, seven Wyandotts
crossed the Ohio a few miles above Wheeling, and committed great depredations upon the southern shore,
killing an old man whom they found alone in his cabin,
and spreading terror throughout the neighborhood.
Within a few hours after their retreat, eight men assembled from different parts of the small settlement,
and pursued the enemy with great expedition. Among
the most active and efficient of the party were two
brothers, ANDREW and ADAM POE. Andrew was particularly popular. In strength, action, and hardihood,
he had no equal, being finely formed, and inured to all
the perils of the woods. They had not followed the
trail far before they became satisfied that the depredators
were conducted by Big Foot, a renowned chief of the
Wyandott tribe, who derived his name from the immense size of his feet.
   His height considerably exceeded six feet, and his
strength was represented as Herculean. He had also
five brothers, but little inferior to himself in size and
courage, and as they generally went in company, they
were the terror of the whole country. Andrew Poe was
overjoyed at the idea of measuring his strength with
that of so celebrated a chief, and urged the pursuit
with a keenness which quickly brought him into the vicinity of the enemy. For the last few miles, the trail
had led them up the southern bank of the Ohio, where
the foot--prints in the sand were deep and obvious; but
when within a few hundred yards of the point at which
the whites as well as the Indians were in the habit of
crossing, it suddenly diverged from the stream and
stretched along a rocky ridge, forming an obtuse angle with its former direction.
  Rere Andrew halted for a moment and directed his
174
ANDRE"W POE.
brother and the other young men to follow the trail with
proper caution, while he himself still adhered to the
river path, which led through clusters of willows directly
to the point where he supposed the enemy to lie. Having examined the priming of his gun, he crept cautiously through the bushes, until he had a view of the
point of embarkation. Here lay two canoes, empty and
apparently deserted. Being satisfied, however, that the
Indians were close at hand, he relaxed nothing of his
vigilance, and quickly gained a jutting cliff, which hung
immediately over the canoes. Hearing a low murmur
below, he peered cautiously over, and beheld the object
of his search. The gigantic Big Foot lay below him,
in the shade of a willow, and was talking in a low, deep
tone to another warrior, who seemed a mere pigmy by
his side.
  Andrew cautiously drew back and cocked his gun.
The mark was fair, the distance did not exceed twenty
feet, and his aim was unerring. Raising his rifle slowly
and cautiously, he took a steady aim at Big Foot's breast
and drew the trigger. His gun flashed. Both Indians
sprang to their feet with a deep interjection of surprise,
and for a single second, all three stared upon each other.
This inactivity, however, was soon over. Andrew was
too much hampered by the bushes to retreat, and, setting his life upon a cast of the die, he sprung over the
bush which had sheltered him, and, summoning all his
powers, leaped boldly down the precipice and alighted
upon the breast of Big Foot with a shock that bore
him to the earth.
   At the moment of contact, Andrew had also thrown
his right arm around the neck of the smaller Indian,
so that all three came to the earth together. At that
moment a sharp firing was heard among the bushes
above, announcing that the other parties were engaged;
but the trio below were too busy to attend to any thing
but themselves. Big Foot was for an instant stunned by
the violence of the shock, and Andrew was enabled to
keep them both down. But the exertion necessary for
that purpose was so great that he had no leisure to use
his knife. Big Foot quickly recovered, and, without
          17
175
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
attempting to rise, wrapped his long arms around
Andrew's body, and pressed him to his breast with
the crushing force of a boa-constrictor. Andrew, as
we have already remarked, was a powerful man, and
had seldom encountered his equal; but never had he
yet felt an embrace like that of Big Foot.
  He instantly relaxed his hold of the small Indian,
who sprang to his feet. Big Foot then ordered him
to run for his tomahawk, which lay within ten steps,
and kill the white man, while he held him in his arms.
Andrew, seeing his danger, struggled manftllly to extricate himself firom the folds of the giant, but in vain.
The lesser Indian approached with his uplifted tomahawk, but Andrew watched him closely, and as he was
about to strike, gave him a kick so sudden and violent
as to knock the tomahawk from his hand, and send him
staggering back into the water. Big Foot uttered an
exclamation in a tone of deep contempt at the failure
of his companion, and raising his voice to its highest
pitch, thundered out several words in the Indian tongue,
which Andrew could not understand, but supposed to be
a direction for a second attack.
  The lesser Indian now again approached, carefully
shunning Andrew's heels, and making many motions
with his tomahawk, in order to deceive him as to the
point where the blow would fall. This lasted for several seconds, until a thundering exclamation from Big
Foot compelled his companion to strike. Such was
Andrew's dexterity and vigilance, however, that he managed to received the tomahawk in a glancing direction
upon his left wrist, wounding him deeply, but not disabling him. He now made a sudden and desperate
effort to free himself from the arms of the giant, and
succeeded. Instantly snatching up a rifle (for the Indian could not venture to shoot for fear of hurting his
companion), he shot the lesser Indian through the body.
  But scarcely had he done so, when Big Foot arose,
and placing one hand upon his collar and the other
upon his hip, pitched him ten feet into the air, as he
himself would have pitched a child. Andrew fell upon
his back at the edge of the water, but before his an176
ANDREW POE.
tagonist could spring upon him, he was again upon his
feet; and stung with rage at the idea of being handled
so easily, he attacked his gigantic antagonist with a
fury which for a time compensated fobr inferiority of
strength. It was now a fair fist fight between them,
for in the hurry of the struggle neitlier had leisure to
draw their knives. Andrew's superior activity and experience as a pugilist, gave him great advantage. The
Indian struck awkwardly, and finding himself rapidly
dropping to leeward, he closed with his antagonist, and
again hurled him to the ground.
  They quickly rolled into the river, and the struggle
continued with unabated fury. each attempting to
drown the other. The Indian being unused to such
violent exertion, and having been much injured by the
first shock in his stomach, was unable to exert the same
powers which had given him such a decided superiority
at first; and, Andrew seizing him by the scalp-lock,
put his head under water, and held it there, until
the faint struggles of the Indian induced him to believe that he was drowned, when he relaxed his hold
and attempted to draw his knife. The Indian, however, to use Andrew's own expression, "had only been
POSSUMING! "
  He instantly regained his feet, and in his turn put
his adversary under. In the struggle both were carried
out into the current, beyond their depth, and each was
compelled to relax his hold and swim for his life.
There was still one loaded rifle upon the shore, and
each swam hard in order to reach it, but the Indian
proved the most expert swimmer, and Andrew seeing
that he should be too late, turned and swain out into
the stream, intending to (live and thus frustrate his
enemy's intention. At this instant, Adam, having
heard that his brother was alone in a struggle with
two Indians, and in great danger, ran up hastily to
the edge of the bank above, in order to assist him.
Another white man followed him closely, and seeing
Andrew in the river, covered with blood, and swimming
rapidly from shore, mistook him for an Indian and fired
upon him, wounding him dangerously in the shoulder.
177
WESATERN AD VENT URE.
  Andrew turned, and seeing his brother, called loudly
upon him to "shoot the big Indian upon the shore."
Adam's gun, however, was empty, having just been
discharged. Fortunately, Big Foot had also seized the
gun with which Andrew had shot the lesser Indian, so
that both were upon an equality. The contest now
was who should load first. Big Foot poured in his
powder first, and drawing his ramrod out of its sheath
in too great a hurry, threw it into the river, and while
he ran to recover it, Adam    gained an advantage.
Still, the Indian was but a second too late, for his
gun was at his shoulder, when Adam's ball entered
his breast. The gun dropped from his hands, and he
fell forward upon his face upon the very margin of
the river.
  Adam, now alarmed for his brother, who was scarcely
able to swim, threw down his gun and rushed into the
river in order to bring him ashore; but Andrew, more
intent upon securing the scalp of Big Foot as a
trophy, than upon his own safety, called loudly upon
his brother to leave him alone and scalp the big Indian, who was now endeavoring to roll himself into
the water, from a romantic desire, peculiar to the Indian
warrior, of securing his scalp from the enemy. Adzam,
however, refused to obey, and insisted upon saving the
living, before attending to the dead. Big Foot, in the
meantime, had succeeded in reaching the deep water
before he expired, and his body was borne off by the
waves, without being stripped of the ornament and
pride of an Indian warrior.
  Not a man of the Indians had escaped. Five of
Big Foot's brothers, the flower of the Wyandott nation, had accompanied him in the expedition, and all
perished. It is said that the news of this calamity
threw the whole tribe into mourning. Their remarkable size, their courage, and their superior intelligence,
gave them immense influence, which, greatly to their
credit, was generally exerted on the side of humanity.
Their powerful interposition had saved many prisoners
from the stake, and had given a milder character to the
warfare of the Indians in that part of the country. A
178
                 ANDREW POE.                  179
chief of the same name was alive in that rart of the
country so late as 1792, but whether a brother or son
of Big Foot, is not known. Andrew Poe recover,ed of
his wounds, and lived many years after his memoiable
conflict; but never forgot the tremendous "hug" which
he sustained in the arms of Big Foot.
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
               CHAPTER VIII.
THE present, like the preceding chapter, will be de    voted to miscellaneous items of intelligence, arranged in chronological order. About the middle of the
summer of 1792, a gentleman named WooDs, imprudently removed from the neighborhood of a station, and
for the benefit of his stock, settled on a lonely heath,
near Beargrass. One morning he left his family, consisting of a wife, a daughter not yet grown, and a lame
negro man, and rode off to the nearest station, not expecting to return until night. Mrs. Woods, while engaged in her dairy, was alarmed at seeing several Indians rapidly approaching the house. She instantly
screamed loudly in order to give the alarm, and ran
with her utmost speed, in order to reach the house before them. In this she succeeded, but had not time to
close the door until the foremost Indian had forced his
way into the house. As soon as he entered, the lame
negro grappled him and attempted to throw him upon
the floor, but was himself hurled to the ground with
violence, the Indian falling upon him.
  Mrs. Woods was too busily engaged in keeping the
door close,1 against the party without, to attend to the
combatants, but the lame negro, holding the Indian in
his arms, called to the young girl to cut his head off
with a very sharp ax which lay under the bed. She
attempted to obey, but struck with so trembling a hand
that the blow was ineffectual. Repeating her efforts
under the direction of the negro, however, she at length
wounded the Indian so badly, that the negro was enabled to arise and complete the execution. Elated with
success, he then called to his mistress and told her to
suffer another Indian to enter and they would kill them
180
DA VIS, CAFFREE, AND McCL URE.
all one by one. While deliberating upon this proposal,
however, a sharp firing was heard without, and the Indians quickly disappeared. A party of white men had
seen them at a distance, and having followed them
cautiously, had now interposed, at a very critical moment, and rescued a helpless family from almost certain
destruction.
  In the spring of 1784, three young Kentuckians,
DAvis, CAFFREE, and MCCLURE, pursued a party of
southern Indians, who had stolen horses from Lincoln
County, and finding it impossible to overtake them, they
determined to go on to the nearest Indian settlement,
and make reprisals, horse stealing being at that time a
very fitshionable amusement, and much practiced on
both sides. After traveling several days, they came
within a few miles of an Indian town near the Tennessee River, called Chicacaugo. Here they fell in with
three Indians. Finding themselves equal in point of
numbers, the two parties made signs of peace, shook
hands, and agreed to travel together. Each, however,
was evidently suspicious of the other.  The Indians
walked upon one side of the road and the whites upon
the other, watching each other attentively.
  At length the Indians spoke together in tones so low
and earnest, that the whites became satisfied of their
treacherous intentions, and determined to anticipate
them.   Caffree being a very powerful man, proposed
that he himself should seize one Indian, while Davis
and McClure should shoot the other two. The plan
was a bad one, but was unfortunately adopted. Caffree
sprung boldly upon the nearest Indian, grasped his
throat firmly, hurled him to the ground, and drawing
a cord from his pocket attempted to tie him. At the
same instant Davis and McClure attempted to perform
their respective parts. McClure killed his man, but
Davis's gun missed fire. All three, i. e., the two white
men and the Indian at whom Davis had flashed, immediately took trees, and prepared for a skirmish, while
181
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
Caffree remained upon the ground with the captured
Indian, both exposed to the fire of the others.
  In a few seconds, the savage at whom Davis had
flashed, shot Caffree as he lay upon the ground and
gave him a mortal wound, and was instantly shot in
turn by McClure, who had reloaded his gun. Caffree
becoming very weak, called upon Davis to come and
assist him in tying the Indian, and instantly afterward
expired. As Davis was running up to the assistance
of his friend, the Indian, now released by the death of
his captor, sprung to his feet, and seizing Caffree's rifle,
presented it menacingly at Davis, whose gun was not in
order for service, and who ran off into the forest, closely
pursued by the Indian. McClure hastily reloaded his
gun, and taking up the rifle which Davis had dropped,
followed them for some distance into the forest, making
all those signals which had been concerted between
them in case of separation. All, however, was vain;
he saw nothing more of Davis, nor could he ever afterward learn his fate. As he never returned to Kentucky, however, he probably perished.
  McClure, finding himself alone in the enemy's country, and surrounded by dead bodies, thought it prudent
to abandon the object of the expedition and return to
Kentucky. He accordingly retraced his steps, still bearing Davis's rifle in addition to his own. He had scarcely
marched a mile, before he saw advancing from the opposite direction an Indian warrior, riding a horse with
a bell around its neck, and accompanied by a boy on
foot. Dropping one of the rifles, which might have
created suspicion, McClure advanced with an air of
confidence, extending his hand and making other signs
of peace. The opposite party appeared frankly to receive his overtures, and, dismounting, seated himself
upon a log, and drawing out his pipe, gave a few puffs
himself, and then handed it to McClure.
  In a few minutes another bell was heard, at the distance of half a mile, and a second party of Indians appeared upon horseback. The Indian with McClure now
coolly informed him by signs that when the horsemen
arrived, he (McClure) was to be bound and carried off
182
TITOIL4S 3MA4RSHALL.
as a prisoner with his feet tied under the horse's belly.
In order to explain it more fully, the Indian got astride
of the log, and locked his legs together underneath it.
McClure, internally thanking the fellow for his excess
of candor, determined to disappoint him, and while his
enemy was busily engaged in riding the log, and mimicking the actions of a prisoner, he very quietly blew
his brains out, and ran off into the woods. The Indian
boy instantly mounted the belled horse, and rode off
in an opposite direction.
  McClure was fiercely pursued by several small Indian
dogs, that frequently ran between his legs and threw
him down. After falling five or six times, his eyes became full of dust, and he was totally blind. Despairing of escape, he doggedly lay upon his face, expecting
every instant to feel the edge of the tomahawk. To his
astonishment, however, no enemny appeared, and even
the Indian dogs, after tugging at him for a few minutes,
and completely stripping him of his breeches, left him
to continue his journey unmolested.  Finding every
thing quiet, in a few moments he arose, and taking up
his gun, continued his march to Kentucky. He reached
home in safety, and in 1820 was still alive. This communication is from his own lips, and may be relied upon
as correct.
  In the course of the next year, many families came
down the Ohio in boats, landed at Maysville, and continued their route by land, in such parts of the country
as pleased them. Out of a number of incidents which
attended the passage of boats down the river, I shall
select two, as worthy of being mentioned. Colonel
THOMAS MARSHALL, formerly commander of the Third
Virginia Regiment on continental establishment, and
subsequently holding the same rank in the Virginia artillery, embarked with a numerous family on board of
a flat-bottomed boat, and descended the Ohio without
any incident worthy of notice, until he had passed the
mouth of Kenawha. Here, about ten o'clock at night,
he was hailed from the northern shore by a man who
183
xiv BIOGRAPIIY OF THE A UTIIOR.

and Mexican retreat before him, perishing as they recede. Not
less distinctly marked, but with a step more noiseless and slow, is
that great combined moral and physical recession which I have
endeavored to illustrate. There is a steadiness along a vastly
extended line, a slow, sullen, massive regularity, which suggests
the idea of vast power, and fixed and immutable purpose. It
bears no remonstrahce, it respects no prejudice, it regards no
boundary, it pauses for no obstacle. Day and night, summer
and winter, with a step that never tires, yet which never seems
to move, it still moves on, through granite and steel, to its final
destiny. What is that destiny, and where is the home which
nature has provided for this slow and sable wanderer?”

Then, after rapidly sketching the condition of the free blacks
in the Northern Slave States, he continues:

“There is upon the western coast of Africa a vast tract of fer-
tile territory, capable of furnishing subsistence to fifty millions
of men. Here is the cradle of the negro race. Here he was

originally planted by the Creator, and from this coast he was “

torn by violence more than three hundred years ago. Nature
has given to the negro a constitution adapted to its burning sun

‘and deadly night-dew; but the white man sickens and dies

where the negro thrives and prospers. The great Autlior‘of na-
ture, who has created such an infinite variety of plants and ani-
mals, has generally assigned to each a local habitation, adapted
to its nature, from which, if left to itself, it will rarely wander.
The natural habitation of the negro is under the African trop-
ical sun.”

He then gives a brief history of the establishment and growth
of Liberia; and as the discussion of the last of-' his three propo-
sitions is so masterly, and looks to the solution of a great prob-
lem, which is still before the American people, and has become,
from the accelerating influences of the past ten years, far more
threatening in its aspect and vastly exaggerated in its propor-
tions, a few additional extracts will doubtless be pardoned, and
regarded not out of place in this brief memoir of a truly great
man:

“The little colony,” he continues, “maintains democratic in-

stitutions 111 peace and security; and without a standing army,
without tumult or disorder, preserves a prodigious ascendancy
among the surrounding tribes, who regard her with admiration
and wonder. There is not an old-established government in
Europe, at this da.y, which would dare to imitate her example.
No doubt. her growth has been slow, but it is easy to show that
the slowness of her growth was absolutely necessary to her fu-
ture greatness, and is the surest evidence which man can derive

that she is destined to he a light to the African world, and a ,

home to the emancipated slave of America. . . . Democratic
institutions are, of all others, the most diflicult to maintain, and
no nation has ever yet successfully maintained them, save by a

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
spoke good English, and quickly announced himself as
James Girty, the brother of Siml)n, both of whom have
already been repeatedly mentioned. The boat dropped
slowly down within one hundred and fifty yards of the
shore, and Girty making a corresponding movement on
the beach, the conference was kept up for several minutes. He began by mentioning his name, and inquiring that of the master of the boat.
  Having been satisfieIl upon this head, he assured him
that he knew him well, respected him highly, etc., and
concluded with some rather extraordinary remarks.
" He had been posted there," he said, " by the order
of his brother Simon, to warn all boats of the danrer
of p.~rmitting themselves to be d&coyed ashore. The
Indians had become jea!ous of him, and he had lost
that influence which he formerly held among them.
He deeply regretted the injury whi,h he had inflicted
upon his countrymen, and wished to be restored to their
society. In order to convince thein of the sincerity of
his regard, he had directed him to warn all boats of the
snares spread for them. Every eff)rt wouldl be made
to draw passengers ashore. Wlhiie men would appear
on the bank, and chillren would be heard to supplicate
for mercy. But," continued he, " do you keep the middle of the river, and steel your heart against every
mournful application which you may receive."     The
colonel thanked him for his intelligence, and continued
his course.
  From this it would appear, that Girty's situation was
by no means enviable. The superior intelligence which
had first given him influence, gradually attracted envy.
Combinations were probably firmed against him, as
thby are in civilized life, against every man who is
guilry of the unpardonable offense of mounting rapidly
above his fellows. Ambition, jealousy, intrigue, combinations for particular objects, prevail as strongly
among savages as among civilized beings, and spring
in each from the same source-a tender, passionate, inordinate love of self- a passion the most universal,
deeply rooted, and infinitely diversified in its operati6ns,
of any in existence-a passion as strong and easily of184
JAMES WARD.
fended in the degraded Hottentot, as in the Emperor
Na~poleon, in the superannuated old woman as in the
blooming belle-the only human passion which age can
not tame, or misery extinguish, or experience cure, or
philosophy expel; which flutters as strongly in the jaws
of death as in the vigor of life, and is as buoyant and
ridiculous in the breast of the philosopher, as in that
of a village beauty. Nothing more was ever heard of
Girty's wish to be restored to his station in society; but
his warning, by whatever motive dictated, was of service to many families.
  About the same time, Captain JAMES WARL, at present a highly respectable citizen of Mason County, Ky.,
(183z), was descending the Ohio, under circumstances
which rendered a renconter with the Indians peculiarly
to be dreaded. He, together with half a dozen others,
one of them his nephew, embarked in a crazy boat,
about forty-five feet long and eight feet wide, with no
other bulwark than a single pine plank above each gunwale. The boat was much encumbered with baggage,
and seven horses were on board. Having seen no einemy
for several days, they had become secure and carele-s,
and permitted the boat to drift within fifty yards of the
Ohio shore. Suddenly several hundred Indians showed
themselves on the bank, and running down boldly to the
water's edge, opened a heavy fire upon the boat. The
astonishment of the crew may be conceived.
  Captain Ward and his nephew were at the oars when
the enemy appeiared, and the captain, knowing that their
safety depended upon their ability to regain the middle
of the river, kept his seat firmly, and exerted his utmost
powers at the oar; but his nephew started up at sight
of the enemy, seized his rifle, and was in the act of leveling it, when he received a ball in the breast and fell
dead in the bottom of the boat. Unfbrtunately, his oar
fell into the river, and the captain, having no one to
pull against him, rather urged the boat nearer to the
hostile shore than otherwise. He quickly seized a plank,
however, and giving his own oar to another of the crew,
185
WESTERNV AD VENTURE.
he took the station which his nephew had held, and, unhurt by the shower of bullets which flew around him,
continued to exert himself until the boat had reached a
more respectable distance. He then for the first time
looked around him, in order to observe the condition of
the crew.
  His nephew lay in his blood, perfectly lifeless; the
horses had been all killed or mortally wounded. Some
had fallen overboard, others were struggling violently,
and causing their frail bark to dip water so abundantly
as to excite the most serious apprehensions. But the
crew presented the most singular spectacle. A captain,
who had served with reputation in the continental army,
seemed ifow totally bereft of his faculties. He lay upon
his back in the bottom of the boat with hands uplifted,
and a countenance in which terror was personified, exclaiming, in a tone of despair, " Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!"
A Dutchman, whose weight might amount to about
three hundred pounds, was anxiously engaged in endeavoring to find shelter for his bulky person, which, from
the lowness of the gunwales, was a very difficult undertaking. In spite of his utmost efforts, a portion of his
posterial luxuriance appeared above the gunwale, and
afforded a mark to the enemy, which brought a constant
shower of balls around it.
  In vain he shifted his position. The hump still appeared, and the balls still flew around it, until the
Dutchman, losing all patience, raised his head above
the gunwale, and, in a tone of querulous remonstrance,
called out, "Oh, now! quit tat tamnned nonsense tere,
will you?"   Not a shot was fired from the boat. At
one time, after they had partly regained the current,
Captain Ward attempted to bring his rifle to bear upon
them, but so violent was the agitation of the boat from
the furious struggles of the horses, that he could not
steady his piece within twenty yards of the enemy, and,
quickly laying it aside, returned to the oar. The Indians followed them down the river for more than an
hour, but, having no canoes, they did not attempt to
board; and as the boat was at length transferred to the
opposite side of the river, they at length abandoned the
186
FRANCIS DOWNING.
pursuit and disappeared. None of the crew, save the
young man already mentioned, were hurt, although the
Dutchman's seat of' honor served as a target for the
space of an hour, and the continental captain was
deeply mortified at the sudden and, as he said, "unaccountable" panic which had seized him. Captain Ward
himself was protected by a post, which had been fastened to the gunwale, and behind which he sat while
rowing.
  In the month of August, 1786, Mr. FRANCIs DowNING, then a mere lad, was living in a fort, where subsequently some iron works were erected by Mr. Jacob
Myers, now (in 1832) kno%%n by the name of "Slate
Creek Works," and are the property. of Colonel Thomas
Dye Owings. About the sixteenth, a young man belonging to the fort called upon Downing, and requested
his assistance in hunting for a horse which had strayed
away on the preceding evening. Downing readily complied, and the two friends traversed the woods in every
direction, until at length, toward evening, they f,und
themselves in a wild valley, at the distance of six or
seven miles from   the fort.. Here Downing became
alarmed, and repeatedly as.ured his elder companion,
whose name was Yates, that he heard sticks cracking
behind them, and was confident that Indians were dogging them. Yates, being an experienced hunter, and
from  habit grown indifferent to the dangers of the
woods, diverted himself freely at the expense of his
young companion, often inquiring at what price he
rated his scalp, and offering to insure it for sixpence.
  Downing, however, was not so easily satisfied. He
observed that in whatever direction they turned the
same ominous sounds continued to haunt them, and as
Yates still treated his fears with the most perfect indifference, he determined to take his measures upon his
own responsibility. Gradually slackening his pace, he
permitted Yates to advance twenty or thirty steps in
front of him, and immediately after descending a gentle
hill, he suddenly sprang aside and hid himself in a thick
187
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
cluster of whortleberry bushes. Yates, who at that time
was performing some woodland ditty to the full extent
of his lungs, was too much pleased with his own voice
to attend either to Downing or the Indians, and was
quickly out of sight. Scarcely had he disappeared,
when Downing, to his unspeakable terror, beheld
two savages put aside the stalks of a canebrake and
look out cautiously in the direction which Yates had
taken.
  Fearful that they had seen him step aside, he determined to fire upon them and trust to his heels for safety;
but so unsteady was his hand, that, in raising his guu
to his shoulder, it went off before he had taken aim.
He lost no time in following its example, and after having run fifty yards he met Yates, who, alarmed at the
report, was hastily retracing his steps. It was not necessary to inqui-re what was the matter.  The enemy
were in full view, pressing forward with great rapidity,
and "devil take the hindmost" was the order of the day.
Yates %would not outstrip Downing, but ran by his side,
although in so doing he risked both of their lives. The
Indians were well acquainted with the country, and soon
took a path that diverged from the one which the whites
followed at one point and rejoined it at another, bearing
the same relation to it that the string does to the bow.
  The two paths were at no point distant from each
other more than one hundred yards, so that Yates and
Downing could easily see the enemy gaining rapidly
upon them. They reached the point of reunion first,
however, and quickly came to a deep gully, which it
was necessary to cross or retrace their steps. Yates
cleared it without difficulty, but Downing, being much
exhausted, fell short, and falling with his breast against
the opposite brink, rebounded with violence and fell at
full length on the bottom. The Indians crossed the
ditch a few yards below him, and, eager for the capture
of Yates, continued the pursuit, without appearing to
notice Downing. The latter, who at first had given
himself up for lost, quickly recovered his strength, and
began to walk slowly along the ditch, fearing to leave
it, lest the enemy should see him. As he advanced,
188
S t o       i
KbO
'6d
WIDOW SITANK3S.
however, the ditch became more shallow, until at length
it ceased to protect him at all.
  Looking around cautiously, he saw one of the Indians
returning, apparently in quest of him. Unfortunately,
he had neglected to reload his gun while in the ditch,
and as the Indian instantly advanced upon him, he had
no resource but flight. Throwing away his gun, which
was now useless, he plied his legs manfully in ascending
a long ridge which stretched before him, but the Indian
gained upon him so rapidly that he lost all hope of escape. Coming at length to a large poplar which had
been blown up by the roots, he ran along the body of
the tree upon one side, while the Indian followed it upon
the other, doubtless expecting to intercept him at the
root. But here the supreme dominion of fortune was
manifested.
  It happened that a large she-hear was suckling her
cubs in a bed which she had made at the root of the tree,
and as the Indian reached that point fir-t, she instantly
sprang upon him, and a prodigious uproar took place.
The Indian yelled, and stabbed with his knile; the bear
growled, and saluted him with one of her most endearing "hugs," while Downing, fervently wishing her success, ran off through the woods, without waiting to see
the event of the struggle. Downing reached the fort
in safety, and found Yates reposing after a hot chase,
having eluded his pursuers, and gained the fort two
hours before him. On the next morning they collected
a party and returned to the poplar tree, but ino traces,
either of the Indian or bear, were to be fotmund. They
both probably escaped with their lives, although not
without injury.
  On the night of the eleventh of April, 1787, the house
of a widow, in Bourbon County, became the scene of
an adventure which, we think, deserves to be related.
She occupied what is generally called a double cabin
in a lonely part of the county, one room of which was
tenanted by the old lady herselft together with two
grown sons and a widowed daughter (at that time suck189
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
ling an infant), while the other was occupied by two unmarried daughters, from sixteen to twenty years of age,
together with a little girl not more than half-grow-n.
The hour was eleven o'clock at night. One of the unmarried daughters was still busily engaged at the loom,
but the other members of the family, with the exception of one of the sons, had retired to rest. Some
symptoms of an alarming nature had engaged the attention of the young man for an hour before any thing
of a decided character took place.
  The cries of owls were heard in the adjoining wood,
answering each other in rather an unusual manner. The
horses, which were inclosed as usual in a pound near the
house, were more than commonly excited, and by repeated snorting and galloping announced the presence
of some object of terror. The young man was often
upon the point of awakening his brother, but was as often restrained by the fear of incurring ridicule and the
reproach of timidity, at that time an unpardonable blemish in the chara'cter of a Kentuckian. At length hasty
steps were heard in the yard, and, quickly afterward,
several loud knocks at the door, accompanied by the
usual exclamation, "W\Vho keeps house?" in very good
English. The young man, supposing from the language
that some benighted settlers were at the door, hastily
arose, and was advancing to withdraw the bar which secured it, when his mother, who had long lived upon the
frontiers, and had probably detected the Indian tone in
the demand for admission, instantly sprang out of bed
and ordered her son not to admit them, declaring that
they were Indians.
  She instantly awakened her other son, and the two
young men, seizi,lg their guns, which were always charged, prepared to repel the enemy. The Indians, finding
it impossible to enter under their assumed characters,
began to thunder at the door with great violence, but a
single shot from a loop-hole compelled them to shift the
attack to some less exposed point, and, unfortunately,
they discovered the door of the other cabin, which contained the three daughters. The rifles of the brothers
could not be brought to bear upon this point, and, by
190
WIDOW SAIINK.
means of several rails taken from the yard fence, the
door was forced from its hinges, and the three girls were
at the mercy of the savages. One was instantly secured,
but the eldest defended herself desperately with a knife
which she had been using at the loom, and stabbed one
of the Indians to the heart before she was tomahawked.
  In the meantime, the little girl, %ho had been overlooked by the enemy in their eagerness to secure the
others, ran out into the yard, and might have effected
her escape had she taken advantage of the darkness and
fled; but, instead of that, the terrified little creature ran
around the house, wringing her hands, and crying out
that her sisters were killed. The brothers, unable to
hear her cries without risking every thing for her rescue, rushed to the door, and were preparing to sally out
to her assistance, when their mother threw herself before them, and calmly declared that the child must be
abandoned to its fate; that the sally would sacrifice the
lives of all the rest without the slightest benefit to the
little girl. Just then the child uttereil a loud scream,
followed by a few faint moans, and all was again silent.
Presently the crackling of flames was heard, accompanied by a triumphant yell from the Indians, announcing that they had set fire to that division of the house
which had been occupied by the daughters, and of which
they held undisputed possession.
  The fire was quickly communicated to the rest of
the building, and it became necessary to abandon it
or perish in the flames. In the one case there was a
possibility that some might escape; in the other, their
fate would be equally certain and terrible. The rapid
approach of the flames cut short their momentary suspense. The door was thrown open, and the old lady,
supported by her eldest son, attempted to cross the
fence at one point, while her daughter, carrying her
child in her arms, and attended by the younger of the
brothers, ran in a different direction. The blazing
roof shed a light over the yard but little inferior to
that of day, and the savages were distinctly seen
awaiting the approach of their victims. The old lady
was permitted to reach the stile unmolested, but in the
          18
191
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTI-IOR, xv

long previous training, upon a small scale at first, and gradually
enlarging its bounds, as by practice it becomes skillful in the
art of governing. ‘

“Su’ch was the growth of the American Republic. The nu-
cleus of American greatness, the embryo of that colossal power,
whose shadow is thrown darkly over the future of the old world,
was the little pilgrim church, which the Mayflower bore over
the wintry ocean, and left to the mercy of Heaven, upon the cold
and rocky shore of Plymouth. The stem morality, the mature
yet ardent taste for religious freedom, was the solid foundation,
upon which,‘ slowly and gradually, a ‘vast superstructure has
been raised. . . . Liberia, beginning like New England, upon
a small scale, with a well—selected material, slowly and gradually
increasing, has already passed the critical period of infancy, and
will soon become capable of bearing large accessions from our
black population, without anarchy or confusion. . . .

“ He who expects that an age of miracles will return, that the
operation of second causes will be dispensed with, and that time
will cease to be an element in the advancement of human affairs,
may regret that the growth of Liberia has been slow and gradual.
But the enlightened and steady friend of the African race will
not be discouraged by a circumstance which he regards as a happy
omen"of"future grandeur and renown. All that is great, and per-
manent, and salutary on _earth, is slow in its development. The
bird, the insect, the flower, that rushes earliest to maturity, is ever
the first to perish and decay. Of all the animals which inhabit
ourearith, the infancy of man is the longest, the most helpless and
the most painful; yet he alone, of all the busy throng, is destined
to triumph over death, and survive even the wreck of the planet
he inhabits.

“Of all the pageants which have dazzled the earth, the Empire
of Napoleon was the most splendid. Like the enchanted palace
of the Arabian tale, it sprung up to maturity in a night, and so
massive were its proportions, so gigantic seemed its strength, that
the profound and far—reaching sagacity of even Pitt and McIntosh
was at fault, and predicted for it a duration‘ commensurate with
the iron materials of which it seemed composed. But scarcely
were the predictions recorded, when the mighty mass crumbled in
ruins, and in less than twelve months scarce a wreck remained.

“Not so the vast fabric of Roman greatness. From a little as-
sociation of shepherds and herdsmen, upon the banks of a trifling
stream, it gradually and slowly rose, through long centuries of
continued growth, to the empire of the world. Where are now
the enemies that grappled with her green youth, or triumphed
over her declining years? Carthage and Macedon, Goths and
Vandals, Parthians and Huns, have long passed away. Religions,
languages, empires, all have perished, but the eternal city still lifts
her gray head above the wreck of dead empires.

“Liberia grows slowly, but she consolidates her strength, and

becomes familiarized with self—government. . . . As religious .

oppression in the old world caused a constant stream of emigra-
tion to the infant colonies of New England—-as that emigration
has slowly increased during the last two hundred years, until
now it has swelled to ‘a roaring flood—so the uneasy and de-

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
act of crossing, received several balls in her breast
and fell dead. Her son, providentially, remained unhurt, and by extraordinary agility effected his escape.
  The other party succeeded also in reaching the fence
unhurt, but, in the act of crossing, were vigorously
assailed by.several Indians, who, throwing down their
guns, rushed upon them with their tomahawks. The
young man defended his sister gallantly, firing upon
the enemy as they approached, and then wielding the
butt of his rifle with a fury that drew their whole
attention upon himself, and gave his sister an opportunity of effecting her escape. He quickly fell, however, under the tomahawks of his enemies, and was
found, at daylight, scalped and mangled in a shocking
manner. Of the whole family, consisting of eight
persons when    the attack commenced, only three
escaped. Four were killed upon the spot, and one
(the second daughter) carried off as a prisoner.
  The neighborhood was quickly alarmed, and by daylight about thirty men were assembled under the command of Colonel Edwards. A light snow had fallen
during the latter part of the night, and the Indian
trail could be pursued at a gallop. It led directly into
the mountainous country bordering upon Licking, and
afforded evidences of great hurry and precipitation on
the part of the fugitives. Unfortunately, a hound had
been permitted to accompany the whites, and as the
trail became fresh and the scent warm, she followed it
with eagerness, baying loudly and giving the alarm to
the Indians. The consequences of this imprudence
were soon displayed. The enemy, finding the pursuit
keen, and perceiving that the strength of the prisoner
began to fail, instantly sunk their tomahawks in her
head, and left her, still warm and bleeding, upon the
snow.
  As the whites came up, she retained strength enough
to wave her hand in token of recognition, and appeared
desirous of giving them some information with regard
to the enemy, but her strength was too far gone.
Her brother sprang from his horse and knelt by her
side, endeavoring to stop the effusion of blood, but in
192
WILD WHITE MAN.
vain. She gave him her hand, muttered some inarticulate words, and expired within two minutes after
the arrival of the party. The pursuit was renewed
with additional ardor, and in twenty minutes the
enemy was within view. They had taken possession
of a steep narrow ridge, and seemed desirous of magnifying their numbers in the eyes of the whites, as
they ran rapidly from tree to tree, and maintained a
steady yell in their most appalling tones. The pursuers, however, were too experienced to be deceived
by so common an artifice, and being satisfied that the
number of the enemy must be inferior to their own,
they dismounted, tied their horses, and flanking out in
such a manner as to inclose the enemy, ascended the
ridge as rapidly as was consistent with a due regard
to the shelter of their persons.
  The firing quickly commenced, and now, for the
first time, they discovered that only two Indians were
opposed to them. They had voluntarily sacrificed
themselves for the safety of the main bokdy, and had
succeeded in delaying pursuit until their friends could
reach the mountains. One of them was instantly shot
dead, and the other was badly wounded, as was evident
from the blood upon his blanket, as well as that which
filled his tracks in the snow for a considerable distance. The pursuit was re-commenced, and urged
keenly until night, when the trail entered a running
stream and was lost. On the following morning the
snow had melted, and every trace of the enemy was
obliterated. This affair must be regarded as highly
honorable to the skill, address, and activity of the Indians, and the self-devotion of the rear guard is a
lively instance of that magnanimity of which they are
at times capable, and which is more remarkable in
them, from the extreme caution, and tender regard
for their own lives, which usually distinguishes their
warriors.
  A few weeks after this melancholy affair, a very remarkable incident occurred in the same neighborhood.
One morning about sunrise, a young man of wild and
193
WESTERY AD VENTURE.
savage appearance suddenly arose from a cluster of
bu.shes in front of a cabin, and hailed the house in a barbarous dialect, which seemed neither exactly Indian nor
English, but a collection of shreds and patches from
which the graces of both were carefully excluded. His
skin had evidently once been white, although now grievously tanned by constant exposure to the weather. His
dress in every respect was that of an Indian, as were
his gestures, tones, and equipments, and his age could
not be supposed to exceed twenty years. He talked
volubly but uncouthly, placed his hand upon his breast,
gestured vehemently, and seemed very earnestly bent
upon communicating something. He was invited into
the cabin, and the neighbors quickly collected around
him.
  He appeared involuntarily to shrink from contact with
them; his eyes rolledl rapidly around with a distrustfll
expression from one to the other, and his whole manner
was that of a wild animAl, just caught, and shrinking
from the touch of its captors. As several present understood the Indian tongue, they at length gathered the
following circumnstances, as accurately as they could be
translated out of a language which seemed to be an
ontiuin gatherum of all that was mongrel, uncouth, and
barbarous. He said that he had been taken by the Indians when a child, but could neither recollect his name
nor the country of his birth; that he had been adopted
by an Indian warrior, who brought him up with his
other sons, without making the slightest difference between them, and that under his father's roof he had
lived happily until within the last month.
  A few weeks before that time, his father, accompanied
by himself and a younger brother, had hunted for some
time upon the waters of the Miami, about forty miles
from the spot where Cincinnati now stands, and after
all their meat, skins, etc., had been properly secured, the
old man determined to gratify his children by taking
them upon a war expedition to Kentucky. They accordingly built a bark canoe, in which they crossed the
Ohio near the mouth of Licking, and having buried it,
so as to secure it from the action of the sun, they ad194
WILD WHITE MAN.
vanced into the country and encamped at the distance
of fifteen miles from the river. Here their father was
alarmed by hearing an owl cry in a peculiar tone, which
he declared boded death or captivity to themselves if
they continued their expedition, and announced his intention of returning without delay to the river.
  Both of his sons vehemently opposed this resolution,
and at length prevailhd upon the old man to disregard
the owl's warning, and conduct them, as he had promised, against the frontiers of Kentucky. The party
then comiiposed themselves to sleep, but were quickly
awakened by their father, who had again been warned,
in a drieam, that death awaited them in Kentucky, and
again besought his children to release him from his
promise, and lose no time in returning home. Again
they prevailed upon him to disregard the warning and
persevere in the march. He consented to gratify them,
but declared he would not remain a moment longer in
the camp which they now occupied; and, accordingly,
they left it immediately, and marched on through the
night, directing their coulrse towardi Bourbon County.
  In the evening they approached a house-that which
he had hailed and in which he was now speaking.
Suddenly the desire of rejoining his people occupied his
mind so strongly as to exclude every other idea; and,
seizing the first favorable opportunity, he had concealed
himself in the bushes, and neglected to reply to all the
signals which had been concerted for the purpose of
collecting their party when scattered. This account
appeared so extraordinary, and the young man's appearance was so wild and suspicious, that many of the
neighbors suspected him of treachery, and thought that
he should be arrested as a spy. Others opposed this
resolution, and gave full credit to his narrative. In
order to satisfy themselves, however, they insisted upon
his instantly conducting them to the spot where the
canoe had been buried. To this the young man objected most vehemently, declaring that although he had
deserted his father and brother, yet he would not betray
them.
  These feelings were too delicate to meet with much
195
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
sympathy from the rude borderers who surrounded
him, and he was given to understand that nothing short
of conducting them to the point of embarkation would
be accepted as an evidence of his sincerity. With obvious reluctance he at length complied. From twenty
to thirty men were quickly assembled, mounted upon
good horses, and under the guidance of the deserter,
they moved rapidly toward the mouth of Licking. On
the road, the young man informed them that he would
first conduct them to the spot where they had encamped
when the screa:m  of the owl alarmed his father, and
where an iron kettle had been left, concealed in a hollow tree. He was probably induced to do this fromn the
hope of delaying the pursuit so long as to afford his
friends an opp )rtunity of crossing the river in safety.
   But if such was his intention, no measure could have
been more unfortunate.   The whites approached the
encampment in deep silence, and quickly perceived two
Indians-an old man and a boy-seated by the fire,
and busily employed in cooking some venison. The
deserter became much agitated at the sight of them,
and so earnestly implore I his countrymen not to kill
them, that it was agreed to surround the encampment
and endeavor to secure them as prisoners. This was
accordingly attempted; but so desperate was the resistance of the Indians, and so determined were their
efforts to escape, that the whites were compelled to fire
upon them, and the old man fell mortally wounded,
while the boy, by an incredible display of address and
activity, was enabled to escape. The deserter beheld
his father fall, and throwing himself from his horse, he
ran up to the spot where the old man lay, bleeding but
still sensible, and falling upon his body, besought his
forgiveness for being the unwilling cause of his death,
and wept bitterly.
   His father evidently recognized him, and gave him
his hand, but almost instantly afterward expired. The
white men now called upon him to conduct them at a
gallop to the spot where the canoe was buried, expecting to reach it before the Indian boy and intercept him.
-The deserter in vain implored them to compassionate
196
Mrs. Merril's Defense against a Midnight Attack. [See page 197.]
JOHN MERRIL.
his feelings. He urged that he had already sufficiently
demonstrated the truth of his formeri assertions, at the
expense of his father's life, and earneAtly entreated them
to permit his younger brother to escape. His companions, however, were inexorable. Nothing but the blood
of the young Indian would satisfy them, and the deserter was again compelled to act as a guide. Within
two hours they reached the designated spot. The canoe
was still there, and no track could be seen upon the
sand, so that it was evident that their victim had not
yet arrived.
  Hastily dismounting, they tied their horses and concealed themselves within close rifle-shot of the canoe.
Within ten minutes after their arrival, the Indian appeared in sight, walking swiftly toward them. He went
straight to the spot where the canoe had been buried, and
was in the act of digging it up when he received a dozen
balls through his body, and leaping high into the air,
fell dead upon the sand. He was instantly scalped and
buried where he fell, without having seen his brother,
and, probably, without having known the treachery by
which he and his father had l,st their lives. The deserter remained but a short time in Bourbon, and never
regained his tranquillity of mind. He shortly afterward
disappeared, but whether to seek his relations in Virginia, or Pennsylvania, or whether, disgusted by the
ferocity of the whites, he returned to the Indians, has
never yet been known. He was never heard of af4erward.
  During the summer, the house of Mr. JOHN MERRIL,
of Nelson County, Ky., was attacked by the Indians,
and defended with singular address and good fortune.
Merril was alarmed by the barking of a dog about midnight, and, upon opening the door in order to ascertain
the cause of the disturbance, he received the fire of six
or seven Indians, by which his arm and thigh were both
brokeil. He instantly sunk upon the floor and called
upon his wife to close thle door. This had scarcely
been done, when it was violently assailed by the tom197
198
"WESTERN AD VENTURE.
ahawks of the enemy, and a large breach soon effected.
Mrs. Merril, however, being a per'ect Amazon, both
in strength and courage, guarded it with an ax, and
successively killed or badly wounded four of the enemy
as they attempted to force their way into the cabin.
  The Indians then ascended *the roof, and attempted
to enter by way of the chimney; but here again they
were met by the same determined enemy. Mrs. Merril
seized the only feather bed which the cabin afforded,
and, hastily ripping it open, poured its contents upon
the fire. A furious blaze and stifling smoke instantly
ascended the chimnney, and brought down two of the
enemy, who lay for a few moments at the mercy of the
lady. Seizing the ax, she quickly dispatched them,
and was instantly afterward summoned, to the door,
where the only remaining savage now appeared, endeavoring to effect an entrance while Mrs. Merril was
engaged at the chimney. He soon received a gash in
the cheek, which compelled him, with a loud yell, to
relinquish his purpose, and return hastily to Chillicothe,
where, from the report of a prisoner, he gave an exaggerated account of the fierceness, strength, and courage of the "long-knife squaw."
WARD, CAL VIN, AND KENTON..
                CHAPTER IX.
N the month of April, 1792, a number of horses,
   belonging to Captain LUTHER CALVIN, Of Mason
County, were stolen by the Indians; and, as usual, a
strong party volunteered to go in pursuit of the enemy,
and recover the property. The party consisted of
thirty-seven men, commanded by Captains CALVIN and
KENTON, and was composed chiefly of young farmers,
most of whom had never yet met an enemy. The
present Captain CHARLES WARD, deputy sheriff of
Mason, in 1832, was one of the volunteers, and was at
that time a mere lad, totally unacquainted with Indian
warfare. They rendezvoused upon the Kentucky shore,
immediately opposite Ripley, and crossing the river, in
a small ferry-boat, pursued the trail for five or six miles
with great energy. Here, however, a specimen of the
usual caprice and uncertainty attending the motions of
militia was given.
  One of the party, whose voice had been loud and
resolute while on the Kentucky shore, all at once
managed to discover that the enterprise was rash, illadvised, and, if prosecuted, would certainly prove
disastrous. A keen debate ensued, in which young
Spencer Calvin, then a lad of eighteen, openly accused
the gentleman alluded to of cowardice, and even
threatened to take the measure of his shoulders with a
ramrod, on the spot. By the prompt interference of
Kenton and the elder Calvin, the young man's wrath
was appeased for the time, and all those who preferred
safety to honor were invited instantly to return. The
permission was promptly accepted, and no less than
fifteen men, headed by the recreant already mentioned.
turned their horses heads and recrossed the river. The
          19
199
Xvi BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTH OR.

graded condition of the free blacks in this country, contrasted
with the brilliant prospect which unites them to Liberia, to-
gether with the continued and increasing operation of the great
movement I have endeavored to illustrate, will cause the tide of
emigration to set toward the African shore at last, with a force
which even the most sanguine can now scarcely imagine. All
the great causes now in operation are surely destined to continue
and to grow in power. The root and foundation of the whole,
the life and soul of the mighty movement, is the public opinion
of the Christian and civilized world. . .

“If that opinion is onwardsand not backward, then shall the
long night of African barbarism come to a close, and the starry
flag of her great republic shall yet flout the blue skies of the
tropical world. Time, the mighty workman, the great philoso-
pher, the builder of truth, and the destroyer of error, time alone
is necessary to disclose to a wondering world the incredible tale
of African greatness. . . . Let democratic freedom and geo-
graphical position exert but one—half the influence upon her
that they have shown in the Anglo-Saxon race, and her flag will
cover the ocean and ransack every sea with the rich produce of
her tropical climate. Let the Protestant religion have one—half
the influence with them which it has exercised over the more
favored races, and the interior of Africa will sparkle in the light
of the Christian faith, and the active hum of civilized industry
will awaken the echoes of her long—s1umbering mountains. . . .

“There is a general tendency to compensation in all things, an
equalizing adjustment of the balance of good or evil, traces of
which are clearly apparent in the history of the world. Power
and civilization, greatness and renown, have never been perma-
nent in races or localities, climates or colors. VVithin the short
period of authentic history, the. scepter of civilization and power
has been successively wielded by many different races, from all
of whom, in turn, it has heen wrested by another race. It has
alternately occupied and abandoned many regions of the earth,
which have successively passed through the extremes of power
and degradation, of refinement and barbarism. Assyria and
Egypt at one time monopolized the power, the arts, and the sci-
ence of the world. They have long been sunk in barbarism and
degradation. The freedom, the eloquence, the renown of Greece,
once held the world in admiration and fear; but for long cen-
turies she has been the slave of barbarism, and as barbarous as
her oppressors. Italy has alternately been the seat of freedom
and slavery, power and weakness, enlightenment and supersti-
tion. Within the last four hundred years, Spain has passed
through the extremes of freedom and renown, slavery and dis-
grace. Even the cheerless deserts of Arabia have not been al-
ways deserted, and the darkness of the middle ages was lightened
up by the science, civilization, and greatness of her Saracen
Caliphs.

“Almost every other race has had its day of light, however
deep the darkness which has followed. But the lot of the negro
has as yet been an unmingled heritage of woe. That beautiful
system of compensation which pervades the work of the Creator,

‘by which any apparent injustice or defect in one gift to his crea_

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
remainder, consisting chiefly of experienced warriors,
continued the pursuit.
  The trail led them down on the Miami, and, about
noon on the second day, they heard a bell in front,
apparently from a horse grazing. Cautiously approaching it, they quickly beheld a solitary Indian, mounted
on horseback, and leisurely advancing toward them.
A  few of their best marksmon fired upon him, and
brought him to the ground. After a short consultation,
it was then determined to fo)llow his back trail, and
ascertain whether there were more in the neighborhood.
A small, active, resolute woodsman, named McIntyre,
accompanied by three others, was pushed on in advance,
in order to give them early notice of the enemy's
appearance, while the main body followed at a more
leisurely pace. Within an hour, McIntyre returned,
and reported that they were then within a short distance of a large party of Indians, supposed to be greatly
superior to their own; that they were encamped in. a
bottom, upon the borders of a creek, and were amusing
themselves, apparently awaiting the arrival of the Indian whom they had just killed, as they woull occasionally halloo loudly, and then laugh immoderately, supposing, probably, that their comrade had lost his way.
  This intelligence fell like a shower-bath upon the
spirits of the party, who, thinking it more prudent
to put a greater interval between themselves and the
enemy, set spurs to their horse,, and galloped back
in the direction from which they had come. Such was
the panic, that one of the footmen, a huge, hulking
fellow, six feet high, in his zeal for his own safety,
sprang up behind Captain Calvin (who was then
mounted on Captain Ward's horse, the captain having
dismounted in order to accommodate him), and nothing,
short of a threat to blow his brains out, could induce
him to dismount. In this orderly manner they scampered through the woods for several miles, when, in
obedience to the orders of Kenton and Calvin, they
halted and prepared for re,istance, in case (as was
probable) the enemy had discovered them, and were engaged in the pursuit. Kenton and Calvin were engaged
200
WARD, CALVIN, AND KENTON.
apart in earnest consultation. It was proposed, that
a number of saplings should be cut down, and a
temporary breastwork erected; and, while the propriety
of these measures was under discussion, the men were
left to themselves.
  Captain Ward, as we have already observed, was,
then, very young, and perfectly raw. He had been in
the habit of looking up to one man as a perfect Hector,
having always heard him represented, in his own neighborhood, as a man of redoubted courage, and a perfect
Anthropophagus among the Indians. When they halted,
therefore, he naturally looked around for his friend,
hoping to read safety, courage, and assurance of success in that countenance, usually so ruddy and confident.
But, alas! the gallant warrior was wofully chop-fallen.
There had, generally, been a ruddy tinge upon the tip
of his nose, which some ascribed to the effervescence
of a fiery valor, while others, more maliciously inclined,
attributed it to the fumes of brandy. Even this burning beacon had been quenched, and had assumed a
livid ashy hue, still det-per, if pos-ible, than that of
his lips.  Captain Ward, thinking that the danger
must be appalling which could damp the aidor of a
man like him, instantly became grievously frightened
him-elf, and the contagion seemed spreading rapidly,
when Kenton and Calvin rejoined them, and speaking
in a cheerful, confident tone, completely re-animated
their spirits.
  Finding themselves not pursued by the enemy, as
they had expected, it was determined that they should
remain in their present position until night, when a
rapid attack was to be made, in two divisions, upon
the Indian camp, under the impression that the darkness of the night, and the surprise of the enemy, might
give them an advantage which they could scarcely hope
for in daylight. Accordingly, every thing remaining
quiet, at dusk they again mounted, and advanced
rapidly, but in profound silence, upon the Indian camp.
It was ascertained that the horses which the enemy
had stolen, were grazing in a rich bottom, below their
camp. As they were advancing to the attack, there201
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
fore, Calvin detached his son, with several halters,
which he had borrowed from the men, to regain their
own horses, and be prepared to carry them off in case
the enemy should overpower them. The attack was
then made in two divisions.
  Calvin conducted the upper, and Kenton the lower
party. The wood was thick, but the moon shone out
clearly, and enabled them to distinguish objects with
sufficient precision. Calvin's party came first in contact
with the enemy. They had advanced within thirty yards
of a large fire, in front of a number of tents, without
having seen a single Indian, when a dog, which had
been watching them for several minutes, sprang forward
to meet theim, baying loudly. Presently an Indian
appeared, approaching cautiously toward them, and
occasionally speaking to the dog in the Indian tongue.
This sight was too tempting to be borne, and Calvin
heard the tick of a dozen rifles, in rapid succession, as
his party cocked them in order to fire.   The Indian
was too close to permit him to speak, but, turning to
his men, he earnestly waved his hand, as a warning
to be quiet. Then, cautiously raising his own rifle, he
fired with a steady aim, just as the Indian had reached
the fire, and stood fairly exposed to its light.
  The report of the rifle instantly broke the stillness of
the night, and their ears were soon deafened by the yells
of the enemy. The Indian at whom Calvin had fired,
fell forward into the burning pile of faggots, and by his
struggling to extricate himself, scattered the brands so
much as almost to extinguish the light. Several dusky
forms glanced rapidly before them foi a moment, which
drew a volley from his men, but with what effect could
not be ascertained.   Calvin, having discharged his
piece, turned so rapidly as to strike the end of his rainrod against a tree behind him, and drive it into its
sheath with such violence, that he was unable to extricate it for several minutes, and finally fractured two
of his teeth in the effort.
  A heavy fire now commenced from the Indian camp,
which was returned with equal spirit by the whites, but
without much effect on either side. Trees were barked
202
WARD, CALVIN, AND KENTON.
very plentifully, dogs bayed, the Indians yelled, the
whites shouted, the squaws screamed, and a prodigious
uproar was maintained for about fifteen minutes, when
it was reported to Calvin that Kenton's party had been
overpowered and was in full retreat. It was not necessary to give orders for a similar movement. No
sooner had the intelligence been received, than the
Kentuckians of the upper division broke their ranks,
and every man attempted to save himself as he best
could. They soon overtook the lower division, and a
hot scramble took place for horses. One called upon
another to wait for him until he could catch his horse,
which had broken his bridle, but no attention was paid
to the request. Some fled upon their own horses, others
mounted those of their friends. "First come, first
served," seemed to be the order of the night, and a sad
confusion of property took place, in consequence of
which, to their great terror, a f'w were compelled to return on foot. The flight was originally caused by the
panic of an individual. As the lower division moved
up to the attack, most of the men appeared to advance
with alacrity.
  Captain Ward, however, happened to be stationed
next to McIntyre, whom we have already had occasion
to mention as a practiced woodsman and peculiarly expert marksman. Heretofore, he had always been foremost in every danger, and had become celebrated for
the address, activity, and boldness with iwhich he had
acquitted himself. As they were ascending the gentle
acclivity upon which the Indian camp stood, however,
he appeared much dejected, and spoke despondingly of
their enterprise. He declared that it had been revealed
to him in a dream, on the preceding night, that their
efforts would be vain, and that he himself was destined to perish; that he was determined to fight, as
long as any man of the party stood his ground, but if
the whites were wise, they would instantly abandon the
attempt upon the enemy, and recross the Ohio as rapidly
as poossible.
  These observations made but little impression upon
Ward, but seemed to take deep root in the mind of the
203
"WESTERN AD VENTURE.
gentleman whose pale face had alarmed the company at
the breastwork. The action quicKly coipmenced, and
at the first fire from the Indians, Barre, a young Kentuckian, was shot by -'s side. This circumstance
completed the overthrow of his courage, which had declined vi.ibly since the first encounter in the morning,
and elevating his voice to its shrillest notes, he shouted
aloud, "Boys! it won't do for us to be here; Barre is
killed, and the Indians are crossing the creek!" Bonaparte has said, that there is a critical period in every
battle, when the bravest men will eagerly seize an excuse to run away. The remark is doubly true with regard to militia.
  No sooner had this speech been uttered by one who
had never yet been charged with cowardice, than the
rout instanly took place, and all order was disregarded.
Fortunately, the enemy were equally frightened, and
probably would have fled themselves had the whites
given them time. No pursuit took place for'several
hours, nor did they then pursue the trail of the main
body of fugitives. But it unfortunately happened that
McIntyre, instead of accompanying the rest, turned off
from the main route, and returned to the breastwork,
where some flour and venison had been left. The Indians quickly became aware of the circumstance, and
following with rapidity, overtook, tomahawked, and
scalped him, while engaged in preparing breakfast on
the following morning. Thus was his dream verified.
The prediction in this ca~e, as in many others, probably
produced its own accomplishment by confounding his
mind, and depriving him of his ordinary alertness and
intelligence. He certainly provoked his fate, by his
own extraordinary rashness.
  It is somewhat remarkable that a brother of Captain
Ward was in the Indian camp at the moment when it
was attacked.. He had been taken by the Indians in
1758, being at that time only three years old, had been
adopted as a member of the Shawnee tribe, and had
married an Indian woman by whom he had several
children, all of whom, together with their mother, were
then in camp. Captain Ward has informed the writer
204
WARD, CALVIN, AND KENTON.
of this narrative that, a few seconds before the firing
began, while he stood within rifle-shot of the encampment, an Indian girl, apparently fifteen years of age, attracted his attention. She stood for an instant in an
attitude of alarm in front of one of the tents, and gazed
intetntly upon the spot where he then stood. Not immediately perceiving that it was a female, he raised his
gun, and was upon the point of firing, when her open
bosom announced her sex, and her peculiarly light complexion caused him to doubt for a moment whether she
could be an Indian by birth. He afterward ascertained
that she was his brother's child.
  It appears still more remarkable that, exactly one
year afterward, John Ward, the adopted Indian, should
have been opposed to another one of his brothers, Captain JAMES WARD, of Mason, in a night skirmish somewhat resembling that which we have just detailed. Captain James Ward, together with Kenton, Baker, and
about thirty others, while engaged in pursuit of some
stolen horses, fell upon a fresh trail of Indians, that
crossed the road which they were then pursuing. Instantly abandoning their former object, they followed
the fresh trail with great eagerness, and a short time
after dark arrived at an encampment. Having carefully reconnoitered it, they determined to remain quiet
until daylight, and then fall upon the enemy as before,
in two divisions, one to be commanded by Kenton and
the other by Baker. Every thing remained quiet until
four o'clock in the morning, when Baker moved at the
head of his party, in order to take the appointed position (which was very advantageous, and, in conjunction
with Kenton's, completely surrounded the enemy),
while Kenton remained stationary, awaiting the signal
of attack.
  By some mistake, Baker moved in a false direction,
and to the surprise of both parties, instead of inclosing
the Indian camp, he fell directly upon it. A heavy firing, and the usual yelling, quickly announced the fact
to Kenton, who moved hastily up to the assistance of his
friends. It was still perfectly dark, and the firing was
of course at random. Baker, in whose fiery character
205
200          WESTERN AD YENTURE.
courage predominated over every thing else, lost all patience at the restraint under which they lay, and urged
strenuously that they should rush upon the enemy, and
decide the affair at once with the tomahawk; but Kenton, whom repeated misfortunes had rendered extremely
cautious, opposed it so vehemently that it was not done.
  One of their men had fallen, and they could hear one
of the enemy, apparently not more than thirty yards
from them, groan deeply, and occasionally converse with
his companions in the Indian tongue. The wounded
man was the unfortunate John Ward, whose hard fate
it was to fight against the whites in a battle in which
his own father was killed, to encounter two of his brothers in the field, and finally to fall mortally wounded in
a night skirmish when his brother was opposed to him,
and was within hearing of his groans. His father perished in the long battle at the " Point," as it was called,
near the mouth of the Kenawha. The whole force of
the Shawnees was assembled at that point, and John
Ward was then nineteen years of age, so that there can
be but little doubt of his having been present.
207
.MAY. JOHNSTON, AND SKYLES.
                CHAPTER X.
IR. JOHN MAY, a gentleman of Virginia, had, at
    an early period, been appointed surveyor of the
Kentucky lands, and had become so extensively involved
in business as to require the aid of a clerk. In 1789 he
employed Mr. CHARLES JOHNSTON, a young man
scarcely twenty years of -age, in that capacity. Johnston accompanied his employer to Kentucky in the summer of 1789, and returned to Virginia in the autumn
of the same year, without any adventure worthy of notice; and in the month of February, 1790, it became necessary for them to return to Kentucky, in order to
complete the business which had been left unfinished on
the former trip. Heretofore they had traveled by land,
but on the present occasion May determined to descend
the Great Kenawha and Ohio by water. They accordingly traveled by the usual route to Green Briar Courthouse, where the town of Lewisburgh has since been
built, and from thence crossed the wilderness which lay
between that point and the Great Kenawha.
  After suffering much from the weather, which was
intensely cold, they at length reached Kelly's Station
upon the Kenawha, from which point May proposed to
embark. Having purchased a boat-such as was then
used for the navigation of the Western waters-they embarked, in company with Mr. JACOB SKYLES, a gentleman of Virginia, who had at that time a stock of dry
goods intended for Lexington, and, without any accident, in the course of a few days they arrived at Point
Pleasant. Here there was an accession to their number
of three persons; a man named FLINN and two sisters of
the name of Fleming. Flinn was a hardy borderer, acWESTERN AD VENTURE.
customed from his youth to all the dangers of the frontiers, and the two Miss Flemings were women of low station and doubtful character. They were all natives of
Pittsburgh, and were on their way to Kentucky.
  During their short stay at Point Pleasant, they
learned that roving bands of Indians were constantly
hovering upon either bank of the Ohio, and were in the
habit of decoying boats ashore under various pretenses,
and murdering or taking cap)tive all who were on board;
so that, upon leaving Point Pleasant, they determined
that no consideration should induce them to approach
either shore, but, steeling their hearts against every entreaty, that they would resolute,ly keep the middle of
the current, and leave distressed individuals to shift fbr
themselves. How firmly this resolution was maintained
the sequel will show. The sprinlg freshet was in its
height at the time of their embarkation, and their boat
was wafted rapidly down the stream. There was no occasion to use the side oars, and it was only necessary for
one inldividual at a time to watch throughout the night,
at the steering oar, in order to keep the boat in the current. So long as this could be done, they entertained
no dread of any number of Indians on either shore, as
boarding had hitherto formed no part of their plans, and
was supposed to be imnpracticable so long as arms were
on board of the boat.
  On the morning of the twentieth of March, when near
the junction of the Scioto, they were awakened at (laylight by Flinn, whose turn it was to watch, and informed
that danger was at hand. All instantly sprang to their
feet, and hastened upon (leck without removing their
nightcaps or completing their dress. The cause of
Flinn's alarm was quickly evident. Far down the river
a smoke was seen, ascending in thick wreaths above the
trees, and floating in thinner masses over the bed of the
river. All instantly perceived that it could only proceed from a large fire; and who was there to kindle a
fire in the wilderness which surrounded them? No one
doubted that Indians were in front, and the only question to be decided was upon which shore they lay, for
the winding of the river, and their distance from the
208
MAY, JOHNSTON, AND SKYLE.
smoke, rendered it impossible at first to ascertain this
point. As the boat dritt~,d on, however, it became evident that the fire was upon the Ohio shore, and it was
instantly determined to put over to the opposite side of
the river. Before this could be done, however, two
white men ran down upon the beach, and, clasping their
hands in the most earnest manner, implored the crew to
take them on board.
  They declared that they had been taken by a party
of Indians in Kennedy's Bottom a few days before; had
been conducted across the Ohio, and had just effected
their e!cape. They added that the enemy was in close
pursuit of them, and that their death was certain unless
admitted on board. Resolute in their purpose on no
account to leave the middle of the stream, and strongly
suspecting the suppliants of treachery, the party paid
no attention to their entreaties, but steadily pursued
their course down the river, and were soon considerably
ahead of them. The two white men ran down the bank
in a line parallel with the course of the boat, and their
entreaties were chaiiged into the most piercing cries ald
lamentations upon perceiving the obstinacy with which
their request was disregarded.
  Instantly the obduracy of the crew began to relax.
Flinn and the two females, accustomed from their youth
to undervalue danger from the Indians, earnestly insisted
upon going ashore and relieving the white men, and
even the incredulity of May began to yield to the persevering importunity of the suppliants.     A  parley
took place. May called to them from the deck of the
boat, where he stood in his nightcap and drawers, and
demanded the cause of the large fire the smoke of which
had caused so much alarm. The white men positively
denied that there was any fire near them. This falsehood was so palpable that May's former suspicions returned with additional force, and he positively insisted
upon continuing their course without paying the slightest attention to the request of the men. This resolution
was firmly seconded by Johnston and Skyles, and as vehemently opposed by Flinn and the Miss Flemings, for,
contrary to all established rules of policy, the iemales
209
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR. xvii - '

tures is atoned for and compensated in some other way, is finely

, illustrated by Paley, and is too familiar to be dwelt upon by me.

And if the African negro is not the only one of his creatures to
whom the rule does not apply, we would suppose it natural, that
at some time and in some way, the long-delayed hour of compen-
sation would arrive. What a splendid illustration of the rule
will be given, if the negro race shall finally be exalted by the
same hand which laid them low! if arts and civilization, wealth
and renown, life and inimortality, shall be bestowed upon their
country by the Anglo-Saxon, in return for the dark atrocity of the
slave-trade, and the long bondage of the deadly rice-swamp ! ”

The emancipation of the colored race, which, in 1848, seemed
the slow work of great philosophic causes, peacefully reaching a.
consummation through the lapse of many years, was suddenly
accomplished, it is true, in the violent convulsions of civil war.
Constitutional amendments and legislative enactments have con-
ferred citizenship, suffrage, and civil equality upon the blacks.
But, in spite of all efforts, philanthropic or partisan, to elevate
them to an equality with the white race, the problem still is, can
the two races and colors commingle, or co-exist in civil and social
equality on the same soil? Can the fiat of nature, which would
seem to protest against it, be reversed, or the mark which the
God of Order has fixed, so significant of separation, if not of in-
equality, be obliterated?

If not, the question so sharply stated by Mr. McClung still
recurs: “What is the destiny and where is the home which nature has
provided for this slow and sable wanderer ? ” And may not the an-
swer given, with such power of philosophic deduction and pro-
phetic forecast, be the true solution? f‘ The natural habitation of
the negro is under the African tropical sun ; ” under the influence
of urgent social laws, “the tendency of the free blacks to Liberia
will become general and irresistible,” and by force of freedom
and religion, “the interior of Africa will sparkle in the light of
Christian faith, and the hum of civilized industry will awaken

' the echoes of her long—slumbering mountains.”

During all the years of his estrangement from the church, and
his laborious service in high secular employments, Mr. McClung
never ceased to feel an interest in. religion,.or failed to show it
reverence. When, in 1831, he withdrew from the ministry, he
did not, at once, abandon his investigation of the points on which
his mind had hesitated. He was left, as he himself said, in a.
wretched state of anxiety, apprehension, and doubt. To relieve
the suspense, he sought diligently, for years, to reach the con-
viction that the Scriptures were untrue, and to anchor himself

2

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
were allowed an equal vote with the males on board of
the boat.
  Flinn urged that the men gave every evidence of real
distress which could be required, and recounted too many
particular circumstances attending their capture and escape, to give color to the suspicion that their story was
invented for the occasion, and added that it would be a
burning shame to them and theirs forever, if they should
permit two countrymen to fall a sacrifice to the savages
when so slight a risk on their part would suffice to relieve them. He acknowledged that they had lied in relation to the fire, but declared himself satisfied that it
was only because they were fearful of acknowledging the
truth, lest the crew should suspect that Indians were
concealed in the vicinity.   The controversy became
warm, and during its progress the boat drifted so far below the men, that they appeared to relinquish their pursuit in despair.
  At this time Flinn made a second proposal, which,
according to his method of reasoning, could be carried
into effect without the slightest risk to any one but himself. They were now more than a mile below the pursuers. He proposed that May should only touch the
hostile shore long enough to permit him to jump out;
that it was impossible for Indians, even admitting that
they were at hand, to arrive in time to arrest the boat,
and, even should any appear, they could immediately
put off from shore and abandon him to his fate; that
he was confident of being able to outrun the red devils
if they saw him first, and was equally confident of being
able to see them as soon as they could see him. May
remonstrated upon so unnecessary an exposure, but
Flinn was inflexible, and in an evil hour the boat was
directed to the shore.
  They quickly discovered, what ought to have been
known before, that they could not float as swiftly
after leaving the current as while borne along by it, and
they were nearly double the time in making the shore
that they had calculated upon. When within reach
Flinn leaped fearlessly upon the hostile bank, and the
boat grated upon the sand. At that moment five or six
210
MAY, JOHNSTON, AND SKIYLES.
savages ran up out of breath, from the adjoining wood,
and instantly seizing Flinn, began to fire upon the boat's
crew. Johnston and Skyles sprang to their arms, in
order to return the fire, while May, seizing an oar, attempted to regain the current. Fresh Indians arrived,
however, in such rapid succession that the beach was
quickly crowded with them, and May called out to his
companions to cease firing and come to the oars. This
was instantly done, but it was too late.
  The river, as we have already observed, was very high,
and their clumsy and unwieldy boat.had become entangled in the boughs of the trees which hung over the water, so that, after the most desperate efforts to get her
off, they were compelled to relinquish the attempt in despair. During the whole of this time the Indians were
pouring a heavy fire into the boat, at a distance not exceeding ten paces. Their horses, of which they had a
great number on board, had broken their halters, an(d,
mad with terror, were plunging so furiously as to expose
them to a danger scarcely less dreadful than that which
menaced theim from shore. In addition to this, none of
them had ever beheld a hostile Indian before, with the
exception of May, and the furious gestures and appalling
yells of the enemy, struck a terror to their hearts which
had almost deprived them of their faculties.
  Seeing it impossible to extricate themselves, they all
lay down upon their faces in such parts of the boat as
would best protect them from the horses, and awaited
in passive helplessness the approach of the conquerors.
The enemy, however, still declined boarding, and contented themselves with pouring in an incessant fire, by
which all the horses were killed, and which at length began to grow fatal to the crew. One of the females received a ball in her mouth which had passed immediately over Johnston's head, and almost instantly expired.
Skyles, immediately afterward, was severely wounded
in both shoulders, the ball striking the right shoulder
blade and ranging transversely along his back. The
fire seemed to grow hotter every moment, when at length
May arose and waved his nightcap above his head as a
signal of surrender. He instantly received a ball in the
211
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
middle of the forehead, and fell perfectly dead by the
side of Johnston, covering him with his blood.
  Now-at last-the enemy ventured to board. Throwing themselves into the water, with their tomiahawks in
their hands, a dozen or twenty swam to the boat, and
began to climb the sides. Johnston stood ready to do
the honors of the boat, and, presenting his hand to each
Indian in succession, he helped them over the side to
the number of twenty. Nothing could appear more cordial than the meeting. Each Indian shook him by the
hand, with the usual salutation of "How de do?" in
passable English, while Johnston encountered every
visitor with an aff,ctionate squeeze, and a forced smile,
in which terror struggled with civility. The Indians
then passed on to Skyles and the surviving Miss Fleming,
where the demonstrations of mutual joy were not quite
so lively. Skyles was writhing under a painful wound,
and the girl was sitting by the dead body of her sister.
  Having shaken hands with all of their captives, the
Indians proceeded to scalp the dead, which was done
with great coolness, aInd the reeking scalps were stretched
and prepared upon hoops, for the usual process of dryinllg, immediately before the eyes of the survivors. The
boat was then drawn ashore, and its contents examined
with great greediness. Poor Skyles, in addition to the
pain of his wounds, was compelled to witness the total
destruction of his property by the hands of these greedy
spoilers, who tossed his silks, cambric, and broadcloth
into the dirt with the most reckless indifference. At
length they stumbled upon a keg of whisky. The prize
was eagerly seized, and every thing else abandoned. The
Indian who had found it instantly carried it ashore, and
was followed by the rest with tumult.uous delight. A
large fire, nearly fifty feet long, was quickly kindled,
and victors and vanquished indiscriminately huddled
around it.
   As yet no attempt had been made to strip the prisoners, but, unfortunately, Johnston was handsomely
dressed in a broadcloth surtout, red vest, fine ruffled
shirt, and a pair of new boots. The Indians began to
eye him attentively, and at length one of them, whose
212
JO-HNSTON, FLINN, AND SKYLES.
name he afterward learned was Chickatommo, a Shawnee chief, came up to him and gave the skirt of his coat
two or three hard pulls, accompanied by several gestures which were not to be mistaken. Johnston instantly
stripped off his coat and very politely handed it to him.
His red waistcoat was now exposed to full view, and attracted great attention. Chickatommo instantly exclaimed, " Hugh! you big cappatain!" Johnston hastily
assured him that he was mistaken; that he was no officer, nor had any connection with military affairs whatever. The Indian then drew himself up, pointed with
his finger to his breast, and-exclainmed, "Me cappatain!
all dese"-pointing to his men-" my sogers!" The
red waistcoat accompanied the surtout, and Johnston
quickly stood shivering in his shirt and pantaloons.
  An old Indian then came up to him, and placing
one hand upon his own shirt (a greasy, filthy garment,
which had not, probably, been washed for six months),
and the other upon Johnston's ruffles, cried out in Eligli:h,
"Swap! swap! " at the same time giving the ruffles a
gentle pull with his dirty fingers. Johnston, conquering his disgust at the proposal, was about to comply,
and had drawn his shirt over his head, when it was
violently pulled back by another Indian, whose name
he afterward learned was Tom Lewis. His new ally
then reproached the other Indian severely for wishing
to take the shirt from a prisoner's back in such cold
weather, and instantly afterward threw his own blanket
over Johnston's shoulders. The action was accompanied
by a look so full of compassion and kindness, that
Johnston, who had expected far different treatment,
was perfectly astonished. He now saw that native
kindness of heart, and generosity of feeling, was by no
means rare, even among savages.
  The two white men who had decoyed them ashore,
and whose names were Divine and Thomas, now appeared, and took their seats by the side of the captives. Sensible of the reproach to which they had
exposed themselves, they hastened to offer an excuse
for their conduct. They declared that they really had
been taken in Kennedy's Bottom a few days before,
213
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
and that the Indians had compelled them, by threats
of instant death in case of refusal, to act as they had
done. They concluded by some common-place expressions of regret for the calamity whiyh they had
occasioned, and declared that their own misery was
aggravated at beholding that of their countrymen!
In short, words were cheap with them, and they
showered them out in profusion. But Johnston's and
Skyles' sufferings had been, and still were, too severe
to permit their resentment to be appeased by such
light atonement.
  Their suspicions of the existence of willful and malignant treachery on the part of the white men (at
least one of them), were confirmed by the report of a
negro, who quickly made his appearance, and who,
as it appeared, had been taken in Kentucky a few
days before. He declared that Thomas had been
extremely averse to having any share in the treachery,
but had been overruled by Divine, who alone had
planned, and was most active in the execution of the
project, having received a promise from the Indians
that, in case of success, his own liberty should be restored to him. This report has been amply confirmed
by subsequent testimony. Mr. Thomas is now living
near Maysville, and has always sustained an excellent
reputation. [This was written in 1832.]
  In a few minutes, six squaws, most of them very
old, together with two white children, a girl and a boy,
came down to the fire and seated themselves. The
children  had  lately been   taken from   Kentucky.
Skyles' wound now became excessively painful, and
Fliun, who, in the course of his adventurous life, had
picked up some knowledge of surgery, was permitted
to examine it. He soon found it necessary to make
an incision, which was done very neatly with a razor.
An old squaw then washed the wound, and having
caught the bloody water in a tin cup, presented it to
Skyles, and requested him to drink it, assuring him
that it would greatly accelerate the cure. He thought
it most prudent to comply.
  During the whole of this time, the Indians remained
214
JOHNSTON, FLINN, AND SKYLES.
silently smoking or lounging around the fire. No sentinels were posted in order to prevent a surprise, but
each man's gun stood immediately behind him, with
the breech resting upon the ground, and the barrel
supported against a small pole, placed horizontally
upon two forks. Upon the slighest alarm, every man
could have laid his hand upon his own gun. Their
captors were composed of small detachments from
several tribes. Much the greater portion belonged to
the Shawnees, but there were several Delawares,
Wyandotts, and a few wandering Cherokees. After
smoking, they proceeded to the division of their prisoners. Flinn was given to a Shawnee warrior; Skyles
to an old, crabbed, ferocious Indian of the same tribe,
whose temper was sufficiently expressed in his countenance; while Johnston was assigned to a young
Shawnee chief, whom he represents as possessed of a
disposition which would have (tone him honor in any
age or in any nation; his name was Messhawa, and he
had just reached the age of manhood. His person
was tall, and expressive rather of action than strength;
his air was noble, and his countenance mild, open, and
peculiarly prepossessing. He evidently possessed great
influence among those of his own tribe, which, as the
sequel will show, he exerted with great activity on the
side of humanity. The surviving Miss Fleming was
given to the Cherokees, while the Wyandotts and the
Delawares were allowed no share in the distribution.
No dissatisfaction, however, was expressed.     The
division had been proclaimed by an old chief in a loud
voice, and a brief guttural monosyllable announced
their concurrence. After the distribution of their captives, Flinn, Divine, and Thomas, were ordered to
prepare four additional oars, for the boat which they
had taken, as they had determined to man it, and assail such other boats as should be encountered during
their stay on the Ohio. These and several other
preparations occupied the rest of the day.
  On the next morning, the Indians arose early, and
prepared for an encounter, expecting, as usual, that
boats would be passing. They dressed their scalp          20
215
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
tufts, and painted their faces in the most approved
manner, before a pocket-glass which each carried with
him, grimacing and frowning in order to drill their
features to the expression of the most terrific passions.
About ten o'clock, a canoe containing six men was
seen, slowly and laboriously ascending the river on the
Kentucky shore. All the prisoners were instantly ordered to descend the bank to the water's edge, and decoy the canoe within reach of the Indian guns. Johnston, with whatever reluctance, was compelled to
accompany the rest. Divine, on this, as on the former
occasion, was peculiarly active and ingenious in stratagems. He invented a lamentable story of their
canoe having been overset, and of their starving condition, destitut, as they were of either guns or axes.
  It was with agony that Johnston beheld the canoe
put off from the Kentucky shore, and move rapidly
toward them, struggling with the powerful current,
which bore them so far below them that they could not
distinguish the repeated signs which Johnston made,
warning them   to keep off. The Indians, perceiving
how far the canoe was driven below them, ran rapidly
down the river, under cover of the woods, and concealed themselves am ng the willows which grew in
thick  clusters upon  the bank. The unsuspecting
canoe-men soon drew near, and when within sixty
yards, received a heavy fire, which killed every man
on board. Some fell into the river, and overset the
canoe, which drifted rapidly down the current, as did
the bodies of the slain. The Indians sprang into the
water, and dragging them ashore, tomahawked two of
them who gave some signs of life, and scalped the
whole.
  Scarcely had this been (lone, when a more splendid
booty appeared in view. It happened that Captain
Thomas Marshall, of the Virginia Artillery, in company with several other gentlemen, was descending the
Ohio, having embarked only one day later than May.
They had three boats, weakly manned, but heavily
laden with horses and dry goods, intended for Lexington. About twelve o'clock on the second day of
216
JOH.NSTO,, FL YNN, AND SKYLES.
Johnston's captivity, the little flotilla appeared about
a mile above the point where the Indians stood. Instantly all was bustle and activity. The additional
oars were fixed to the boat, the savages instantly
sprang on board, and the prisoners were compelled to
station themselves at the oars, and were threatened
with instant death unless they used their utmost ex.ertions to bring them along-side of the enemy. The
three boats came down very rapidly, and were soon
immediately   opposite their enemy's. The Indians
opened a heavy fire upon them, and stimulated their
rowers to their utmost efforts.
  The boats became quickly aware of their danger, and
a warm contest of skill and strength took place.
There was an interval of one hundred yards between
each of the three boats in view. The hindmost was
for a time in great danger. Having but one pair of
oars, and being weakly manned, she was unable to
compete with the Indian boat, which greatly outnumbered her, both in oars and men. The Indians quickly
came within rifle-shot, and swept the deck with an incessant fire, which rendered it extremely dangerous for
any of the crew to show themselves. Captain Marshall was on board of the hindmost boat, and maintained his position at the steering-oar in defiance of the
shower of balls which flew around him. He stood in
his shirt sleeves, with a red silk handkerchief bound
around his head, which afforded a fair mark to the enemy, and steered the boat with equal steadiness and
skill, while the crew below relieved each other at the
oars.
  The enemy lost ground from two circumstances. In
their eagerness to overtake the whites, they left the
current, and attempted to cut across the river from
point to point, in order to shorten the distance. In
doing so, however, they lost the force of the current,
and quickly found themselves dropping astern. In addition to this, the whites conducted themselves with
equal, coolness and dexterity. The second boat waited
for the hindmost, and received their crew on board,
abandoning the goods and horses, without scruple, to
217
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
the enemy. Being now more strongly manned, she
shot rapidly ahead, and quickly overtook the foremost
boat, which, in like manner, received her crew on
board, abandoning the cargo as before; and having six
pair of oars, and being powerfuilly manned, she was
soon beyond the reach of the enemy's shot. The chase
lasted more than an hour. For the first half hour,
the fate of the foremost boat hung in mournful suspense, and Johnston, with agony, looked forward to
the probability of its capture. The prisoners were
compelled to labor hard at the oars, but they took
care never to pull together, and by every means in
their power, endeavored to favor the escape of their
friends.
  At length, the Indians abandoned the pursuit, and
turned their whole attention to the boats which had
been deserted. The booty surpassed their most sanguine expectations. Several fine horses were on board,
and flour, sugar, and chocolate in profusion. Another
keg of whisky was tbund, and excited the same immoderate joy as at first. It was unanimously determined to
regale themselves in a regular feast, and instant preparations were made to carry their resolution into effect.
A large kettle of chocolate and sugar, of which the
sugar formed the greater part, was set upon the fire,
which an old squaw stirred with a dirty stick. Johnston was promoted on the spot to the rank of cook, and
received orders to bake a number of flour cakes in the
fire.  A   deer-skin, which had served for a saddle
blanket, and was most disgustingly stained by having
been applied to a horse's sore back, was given him as a
tray, and being repeatedly ordered to " make haste,"
he entered upon his new office with great zeal.
  By mixing a large portion of sugar with some dumpliugs, which he had boiled in chocolate, he so delighted
the palates of the Indians, that they were enthusiastic
in their praises, and announced their intention of keeping him in his present capacity as long as he remained
with them. The two kegs, which had been carefully
guarded, were now produced, and the mirth began to
border on the "fast and furious." A select band, as
218
JOHNSTON, FLIVN, AND SKYLES.
usual, remained sober, to maintain order and guard
against surprise, but the prisoners were invited to get
drunk with their red brothers. Johnston and Skyles
declined the invitation, but Flinn, without waiting to
be asked twice, instantly joined the revelers, and
quickly became as drunk as any of them. In this situation he entered into a hot dispute with an Indian,
which, after much abuse on both sides, terminated in
blows, and his antagonist received a sad battering.
Several of his tribe drew their knives, and rushed upon
Flinn with fury, but were restrained amid peals of
laughter by the others, who declared that Flinn had
proved himself a man, and should have fair play.
  In the meantime, Johnston and Skyles had been
bound and removed to a convenient distance from the
drinking party, with the double design of saving their
lives, and guarding against escape. While lying in this
manner, anti totally unable to help themselves, they
beheld, with terror, one of the revelers staggering toward them, with a drawn knife in his hand, and muttering a profusion of drunken curses.    He stopped
within a few paces of them, and harangued them with
great vehemence, for nearly a minute, until he had
worked himself up to a state of insane fury, when,
suddenly uttering a startling yell, he sprung upon the
prostrate body of Skyles, and seizing him by the hair
endeavored to scalp him.    Fortunately he was too
much intoxicated to exert his usual dexterity, and before he had succeeded in his design, the guard ran up
at full speed, and seizing him by the shoulders, hurled
him violently backwards to the distance of several
yards. The drunken beast rolled upon the ground, and
with difficulty recovering his feet, staggered off, muttering curses against the white man, the guard himself,
and the whole world. Skyles had only felt the point
of the knife, but had given up his scalp for lost, and
rubbed the crown of.his head several times with feverish apprehensions, before he could be satisfied that his
scalp was still safe.
  No other incident occurred during the night, and on
the following morning the Indians separated. Those
219
‘Xvifi BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR.

on infidelity. He searched_ for information at every accessible
source, and gathered from all quarters, and read with eager in-
terest, the works of skeptics and infidels the world over. But he
was unsatisfied; he could draw from -them neither conviction
nor consolation; he could find no rock on which to rest. The
secret was, he did not seek to deceive or delude himself; he had
no heart for error, no patience with sophistry; he was honest;
he sought truth; be loved light. Long afterward, he declared
emphatically he never was, and he found he could not be, an in-
fidel; but he was in deep darkness, and his soul was oppressed
with gloom.

In the year 1848, he listened to a sermon of Rev. Dr. Grundy, *

in Maysville, upon one of the points of difliculty which had
originally disturbed his faith. Something that fell from the
preacher arrested his attention, and he determined to take up
again the whole subject and carefully revise his opinions. He
was induced to this by the hope that his long experience at the
bar, and the severe training he had undergone, might enable his
mind, under a fresh impulse, and by better processes, to reach
the light at last. He knew well that, where fundamental truth
was involved, his mind was averse to taking any thing on mere
trust, and imperiously demanded demonstration. Not that he
was incapable of Conceiving or accepting truth in the high re-
gions of the supernatural and the mysterious, for his mind often
turned with real delight to the mystic and the spiritual. But he
had been unable to answer the subtle argument of Gibbon, in
his celebrated chapters on the Secondary Causes for the rapid
growth of Christianity; and in his examination of the sacred
writings, he had been shaken as to the authenticity and accu-
racy of the record, and its integrity and consistency asha great
_body of inspired truth.

Under these conditions, he undertook to review his early

studies, and to reconstruct, if possible, his early faith. Fortu- '

nately, he met with a rare work—a reply to Gibbon’s chapters
on the Secondary Causes, by an old but very able Scotch com-
mon law judge, Sir David Dalrymple. The analysis of Gibbon’s
arguments, and the exposure of his false quotations and state-
ments, are exhaustive and complete. So far as Gibbon’s sophis-
tries were concerned, the perusal of this book was a great enjoy-
ment and relief to Mr. McClung; and his study of the Scriptures
became now unremitting and intense. Day after day, night
after night, till late hours—sometinies throughout the night—-

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
to whom Flinn belonged, remain'ed at the river in expectation of intercepting other boats, while Johnston's
party struck through the wilderness, in a steady direction for their towns. During their first day's march,
he afforded much amusement to his captors. In the
boat abandoned by Captain Marshall, they had found
a milk cow, haltered in the usual manner. Upon leaving the river, they committed her to the care of Johnston, requiring him to lead her by the halter. Being
totally unaccustomed to this method of traveling, she
proved very refractory, and perplexed him    exceedingly. When he took one side of a tree, she regularly
chose the other. Whenever he attempted to lead her,
she planted her feet firmly before her, and refused to
move a step. When he strove to drive her, she ran off
into the bushes, dragging him after her, to the no small
injury of his person and dress.
  The Indians were in a roar of laughter throughout
the whole day, and appeared highly to enljoy his perplexity. At night they arrived at a small encampment, where they had left their women and children.
Here, to his.great joy, Johnston was relieved of his
charge, and saw her slaughtered with the utmost gratification. At night, he suffered severely by the absence of the benevolent Messhawa, to whose charge,
as we have already said, he had been committe,l. The
'Indians were apprehensive of pur.-uit, and directed
Messhawa, at the head of several warriors, to. bring up
the rear, and give them seasonable warning of any attempt on the part of the whites to regain their prisoners. In his absence, he had been committed to an Indian of very different character.
  While his new master was engaged in tying his
hands, as usual, for the night, he ventured to complain
that the cord was drawn too tight, and gave him unnecessary pain.  The Indian flew into a passion, exclaiming, "D-n you soul!" and drew the cord
with all the violence of which he was capable, until
it was completely buried in the flesh. Johnston, in
consequence, did not sleep for a moment, but passed
the whole night in exquisite torture. In the morning,
220
JOHNSTON, FLINN, AND SK YLES.
Messhawa came up, and finding his prisoner in a high
fever, and his hands excessively swollen, instantly cut
the cords, and exchanged some high words with the
other Indian upon the subject.
  The march was recommenced, and Johnston could
not avoid congratulating himself every moment upon
his good fortune in having Messhawa for his guide.
Skyles' master seemed to take pleasure in tormenting
him. In addition to an enormous quantity of baggage,
he compelled him to carry his rifle, by which his raw
wound was perpetually irritated, and prevented from
healing. Messhawa permitted Johnston to share his
own mess upon all occasions; while the savage to
whom Skyles belonged, would scarcely permit him to
eat a dozen mouthluls a day, and never without imbittering his meat with curses and blows. In a few
days they arrived at the Scioto River, which, from the
recent rains, was too high to admit of being forded.
The Indians were instantly employed in constructing
a raft, and it was necessary to carry one very large
log several hundred yards.
  Two Indians with a handspike supported the lighter
end, while the butt was very charitably bestowed upon
Johnston alone. Not daring to murmur, he exerted
his utmost strength, and, aided by several Indians, with
some difficulty succeeded in placing the enormous burden upon his shoulder. He quickly found, however,
that the weight was beyond his strength, and, wishing
to give his two companions in front warning of his inability to support it, he called to them in English to
" take care!" They did not understand him, however,
and continued to support it, when, finding himself in
danger of being crushed to death, he dropped the log
so suddenly that both the Indians were knocked down,
and lay for a time without sense or motion. They
soon sprang up, however, and, drawing their tomahawks,
would instantly have relieved Johnston of all his
troubles had not the other Indians, amid peals of laughter, restrained them and compelled them to vent their
spleen in curses, which were showered upon " Ketepels,"
as he was called, for the space of an hour, with great fury.
221
TWESTERN ADVENTURE.
  After crossing the Scioto, the Indians displayed a disposition to loiter and throw away time, but little in
unison with Johnston's feelings, who was anxious to
reach their towns as speedily as possible, flattering himself with the hope that some benevolent trader would
purchase him of the Indians and restore him to liberty.
They amused themselves at a game called "Nosey,"
with a pack of cards which had been found in one of
the abandoned boats. The pack is equally divided between two of them, and by some process which Johnston (lid not understand, each endeavored to get all the
cards into his own possession. The winner had a right to
tell fillips at his adversary's nose, which the latter was
required to sustain with inflexible gravity, as the winner
was entitled to ten additional fillips for every smile
which he succeeded in forcing from him. At this game
they would be engaged for a whole day, with the keenest
interest, the bystanders looking on with a delight
scarcely inferior to that of the gamblers themselves,
and laughing immoderately when the penalty was exacted.
  When gaming, they were unusually kind to their
prisoners; but this ray of sunshine was frequently very
suddenly overcast. Johnston ventured to ask an old
Shawnee chief how far they would be forced to travel
before reachiin), his village. The old man very goodnaturedly assured him, by drawing a diagram upon the
sand with a stick, pointing out the situation of the
Ohio River, of the Scioto, and of the various Indian
villages, and pointing to the sun, he waved his hand
once for every day which they would employ in the
journey. Johnston then venture;d to ask "how many
inhabitants his village contained." The old man replied that the Shawnees had once been a great nation;
but (and here his eyes flashed fire, and he worked himself into a furious passion) the long-knives had killed
nearly the whole of his nation. "However," continued
he, "so long as there is a Shawnee alive, we will fight!
fight! fight! When no Shawnee, then no fight."
   The prisoners were also in great danger whenever
the Indjans passed through a forest which had been
222
JOSrTON, FLINY, AND SKYLES.
surveyed, and where the marks of the ax upon the
trees were evident. They would halt upon coming to
such a tree, and after a few minutes' silence, would
utter the most terrible yells, striking the trees with
their hatchets, and cursing the prisoners with a fierceness which caused them often to abandon all hopes of
life. On one occasion, they passed suddenly from the
most ferocious state of excitement to the opposite extreme of merriment, at a slight disaster which befell
Johnston. They were often compelled to ford creeks;
but upon one occasion, they attempted to pass upon a
log. The morning was bitterly cold and frosty, and the
log having been barked, was consequently very slippery.
  In passing upon this bridge, Johnston's foot slipped
and he fell into the cold water with an outcry so sudden and shrill that the whole party, which the instant
before had been inflamed with rage, burst at once into
loud laughter, which, at intervals, was maintained for
several miles. Sometimes they amused themselves by
compelling their prisoners to dance, causing them to pronounce, in a tone bordering on music, the words, "Komne-kah! He-kah-kah! Was-sat-oo-Hos-ses-kah!" and
this monotonous and fatiguing exercise was occasionally
relieved by the more exciting one of springing over a
large fire when the blaze was at its highest, in which they
could only escape injury by great activity.
  Their painful journey had now lasted nearly a month,
and the Indian towns were yet at a great distance.
Hitherto, Skyles and Johnston had remained together;
but by the whimsical fancy of their captors, they were
now separated. Skyles was borne off to the Miami towns,
while Johnston was destined for Sandusky. A few
days after this separation, Johnston's party fell in with
a Wyandott, and a negro man who, having run away
from Kentucky, had been taken up by the Wyandott
and retained as an assistant in a very lucrative trade
which he was at that time carrying on with the Indians
of the interior. He was in the habit of purchasing
whisky, powder, blankets, etc., at Detroit, generally
upon credit, packing them upon horses into the interior,
and exchanging them, at a profit of nearly one thousand
       21
223
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
per cent., for furs and hides. This casual rencounter
in the wilderness was f'ollowed by great demonstrations
of joy on both sides. The trader produced his rum,
the Shawnees their merchandise, and a very brisk exchange ensued.
  Johnston's boots, for which he had paid eight dollars
in Virginia, were gladly given for a pint of rum; and
other articles were sold at a proportionate price. Johnston, as before, was removed from the immediate neighborhood of the revelers, and committed to the care of
two sober Indians, with strict injunctions to prevent
his escape. They accordingly bound him securely, and,
passing the ends of the cord under their own bodies,
lay down to sleep-one upon each side of their prisoner.
At midnight, Johnston was awakened by a heavy rain,
although his guards slept on with most enviable composure. Unable to extricate himself, and fearful of
awakening them, he was endeavoring to submit with
patience, when the negro appeared, and very courteously
invited him to take shelter in his tent, which stood within fifty yards of the spot where he lay.
  Johnston was beginning to explain to his black friend
the impossibility of moving without the consent of his
guards, when they suddlenly sprang to their feet, and,
seizing the negro by the throat, and at the same time
grasping Johnston's collar; they uttered the alarm-hailoo
in the most piercing tones. The whole band of drunken
Indians instantly repeatAd the cry, and ran up, tomahawk in hand, and with the most ferocious gestures.
Johnston gave himself up for lost, and the negro looked
white with terror; but their enemies conducteil themselves with more discretion than, from their drunken
condition, could have been anticipated. They seized
Johnston, bore him off a few paces into the woods, and
questioned him closely as to the conference between himself and the negro. He replied by simply and clearly
stating the truth. They then grapple'd the negro, and,
menacing him with their knives, threatened to take his
scalp on the spot if he did not tell the truth. His story
agreed exactly with Johnston's, and the Indians became
satisfied that no plot had been concerted.
224
JOHNSTON, FLINN, AND SKYLES.
  The incident, however, had completely sobered them,
and for several hours the rum-cask gave way to the
dancing-ring, which was Iormed in front of the negro's
tent, where Johnston had been permitted, after the alarm
subsided, to take shelter from the rain. He quickly
ft11 asleep, but was grievously tormented by the nightmare. He dreamed that he was drowning in the middle
of the creek which he had crossed on that morning; and
his respiration became so laborious and painful that be
at length awoke. The song and the dtance were still
going on around him, and the cause of his unpleasant
dream was made manifest. A huge Indian had very
composedly seated himself upon his breast, and was
smoking a long pipe and contemplating the dancers,
apparently very well satisfied -%ith his seat. Johnston
turined hiniiself upon his side and threw the Indian off.
He did not appear to reli-h the change of place much,
but soon -ettled himself and continued to smoke with
uninterrupted gravity.
  At daylight, a new scene presented itself. The warriors painted themselves in the most f ightful colors,
and performed a war-dance with the usual accompaniments. A stake, painted in alternate stripes of black
and vermilion, was fixed in the ground, and the dancers
moved in rapid but measured evolutions around it.
They recounted, wiih great energy, the wrongs which
they had received from the whites: Their lanids had
been taken fo0oi them, their corn cut up, their villages
burnt, their friends slaughtered; every injury which
they had received was dwelt upon, until their passions
had become inflamed beyond all control. Suddenly,
Chickatommo darted froLm the circle of dancers, and,
with eyes flashing fire, ran up to the spot where Johnston was sitting calmly contemplating the spectacle before him. When within reach, he struck him a furious
blow with his fist, and was preparing to repeat it,
when Johnston seized him by the arms and hastily demanded the cause of such unprovoked violence.
  Chickatommo, grinding his teeth with rage, shouted,
"Sit down! sit down! " Johnston obeyed, and the Indian, perceiving the two white children within ten steps
225
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
of him, snatched up a tomahawk and advanced upon
them with a quick step and a determined look. The
terrified little creatures instantly arose from the log on
which they were sitting and fled into the woods, uttering the most piercing screams, while their pursuer rapidly
gained upon them, with his tomahawk uplitted. The
girl, being the youngest, was soon overtaken, and would
instantly have been tomahawked had not Messhawa
bounded like a deer to her relief. He arrived barely
in time to arrest the uplifted-tonmahawk of Chickatomnmo,
after which he seized him by the collar and hurled
him violently backward, to the distance of several paces.
  Snatching up the child in his arms, he then ran after
the brother, ittending to secure him likewise from the
fury of his companion; but the boy, misconstruing his
intention, continued his flight with such rapidity, and
doubled several times with such address, that the chase
was prolonged to the distatce of several hundred yards.
At length, Messhawa succeeded in taking him. The
boy, thinking himself lost, uttered a wild cry, which was
echoed by his sister; but both were instantly calmed.
Messhawa took them in his arms, spoke to them kindly,
and soon convinced them that they had nothing to fear
from him. He quickly re-appeared, leading them gently
by the hand, and soothing them in the Indian language,
until they both clung to him closely for protection. No
other iiicident disturbed the progress of the ceremonies,
nor did Chickatommo appear to resent the violent interference of Messhawa.
  Their rum had not yet become exhausted, and after
the conclusion of the war-dance, they returned to it
with renewed vigor. A    lame Mingo, on a solitary
hunting excursion, soon joined them, and with drunken
hospitality, was pressed, and in some degree compelled,
to get drunk with them. They soon became very affectionate, and the Mingo, takin;g advantage of the momentary generosity produced by the rum, ventured to
ask that Johnston might be given to him for a particular purpose, which he explained to them. He said
that he had lately killed a warrior of the Wyandott
tribe, whose widow had clamorously demanded that he
226
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JOHNSTON, FLINN, AND SKYLES.
(the Mingo) should either procure her another husband or lay down his own life as a penalty for the
slain Wyandott.
  He added that he was too poor to procure her another husband, unless he should take that honorable
office upon himself-for which he had but small inclination, the squaw in question being well stricken in
years, tolerably crooked, and withal a most terrible
scold-and that he must submit to the other alternative
and lay down his life, unless the Shawnees would have
compassion upon him, and give him Johnston, who (he
said) being young and handsome, would doubtless be
acceptable to the squaw aforesaid, and console her faithful heart for the loss of her former husband. He urged
his suit with so much earnestness that the Shawnees
relented and assured him that Johnston should instantly
be delivered into his hands. This was accordingly done,
without the slightest regard to the prisoner's inclination;
and within an hour the whole party took leave of him,
shaking him heartily by the hand and congratulating
him upon his approaching happiness, telling him that
there was a fine squaw waiting for him in the Wyandott town.
  Johnston would have liked the adoption better without the appendage of the bride, but thinking that, if
she were one of the furies, her society would be preferable to the stake and hot irons, he determined to make
the best of his condition, and wear his shackles as easily
as possible, until an opportunity offered of effecting his
escape.  His new master, after lingering around the
late encampment, until late in the day, at length
shouldered his wallet, and moved off by the same route
which the Shawnees had taken. By noon, on the following day, they came up with them, when a curious
scene ensued. As soon as the Shawnees had become
sober, they repented their late liberality, and determined
to reclaim their prisoner; the Mingo stoutly demurred,
and a long argument took place, accompanied by animated gestures, and not a few oaths, on both sides. At
length Messhawa put an end to the wrangling by seizing a horse by the halter and ordering Johnston in22T
BIOGR.-IPIIY OF TIIE A UTIIOR. xix

did this earnest man, this giant student, bend his energies to
the examination and close collation and comparison of all the
books of the Old and New Testaments, in the original and in
translation. It was done. conscientiously certainly, and no doubt
prayerfuily.

After many months of unceasing application to this great and
solemn labor, the clouds were rolled away, the darkness disap-
peared, the Divine Word was vindicated, the weary mind had
found its anchor and its rock, and the Sun of Righteousness,
with healing on his wings, beamed upon his heart.

His convictions seemed to have been very profound, and were
undisturbed to the close of his life. In describing the character
and course of his investigations, and the elaborate process through
which he had gone, he stated to a friend, as a sample of the
foundations he had reached for his intellectual faith. that in the
Book of Acts, alone, he had found upward of sixty instances of
minute and undoubtedly undesigned coincidences verifying the
accuracy of the narrative ; very few of which had ever been no-
ticed by any of the numerous commentators he had read.

On the night of the 23d of February, 1849, in the midst of a
series of protracted meetings in the Presbyterian Church, in
Maysville, he rose from his seat, went forward, and offered him-
self for admission to membership. The narrative then given of
his experiences, his difficulties, his suflerings, his life-battle, in-
cluding his avowed belief in the genuineness of his conversion
in boyhood, and terminating with a triumphant testimony to the
truth of the whole Bible as the VVOrd of God, is said to have been
most simple, touching, and s0u1—s11bduing. The surrender of
this strong man to his Savior was child-like and complete. The
prophecy of his old friend, Mr. Todd, that he would surely return,
was accomplished. And it is believed that it is ,not going too
far to say that the return of such a wanderer—so greatly endowed,
so richly accomplished, so flattered and tempted in the secular
Walks, so severe in his scrutiny, so rigid in his demand for
demonstration, so unsparing in his researches, so reliant on his
mental strength and moral consistency, and so entirely honest
and sincere—was regarded throughout the wide circle of his ad-
mirers and friends, and by the whole Christian community, as
one of the most marked, signal, and convincing testimonies to
God’s blessed truth that has occurred amongst men in modern
times.

He scarcely hesitated as to his future life. Although in the

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
stantly to mount. He then sprang upon another, and,
applying the lash smartly to both horses, he quickly
bore the prisoner beyond the sound of the Mingo's
voice.
  An hour's ride brought them to Upper Sandusky,
where Meishawa dismounted, and awaiLed the arrival
of Chickatonmmo. He soon appeared, accompanied by
his party, and f)llo%ved. by the discontented Mingo.
This m in regarded Johnston, from time to time, with
so ei,rnest a countenance, and appeared so desirous of
approaching him, th t the later became alarmed, lest,
in the rage of disappointment, he should inflict upon
the prisoner the vengeance which he dared not indulge
against the Shawnees.  But his ftars were quickly relieved. The Mingo dogged him so faithfully, that he
at length came upon him while alone, and, approaching him with a good-natured smile, presented a small
piAnphlet, which Johnston had dropped on the preceding (lay. Having dine this, he shook him by the hand,
and immediately left the village.
  At S,indusky, Johnston became acq*ainted with Mr.
Duchouqilet, a French trader, who had, for several
years, resided among the Indians, and was extensively
engaged in the far trade.  To him he recounted his
adventures, and earnestly solicited his go,od offices in
de ivering him from the Indians. Duchouquet promptly
assured him that every exertioni should be used for that
purpo)se, a:id lost no tim, in redeeming his pledge. That
evening he spoke to Ciickatommo, and offered a liberal
ransom for the prisoner, but his eff,rts were fruitle~s.
The Shawnee chief did not object to the price, but declared that no sum should induce them to give him up
until they had first taken him to their towns. This
answer was quickly reported to Johnlston, and filled
him with despair. But, as the Shawnee party were
engaged in another drinking-bout, he entreated Duchouquet to seize the favorable moment, when their
hearts were mellowed by rum, and repeat his offir.
The Frenchman complied, and was again peremptorily
refused. Johnston now desired him to inquire, of
Chickatommo, the name of the town to which he was
228
        JOHNSTON1, FLINN, AND SKYLES.            229
to be taken, and the fate which was in reserve for
him, upon his arrival there.
  To the first question, Chickatommo promptly replied
that the prisoner was to be carried to the Miami villages;
but to the second, he gave no satistactory answer, being
probably ignorant himself upon the subject. The mention of the Miami villages completely extinguished every
spark of hope which still existed in Johnston's breast,
as those towns had, heretofore, been the grave of every
white prisoner who had visited them. He had also
heard that the Indians carefully concealed from their
victims the fate which awaited them, either from some
instinctive feelings of compassion, or, more probably,
from policy, in order to prevent the desperate efforts to
escape, which were usual with prisoners who were informed of their destiny. Under these circumstances,
he gloomily abandoned himself to despair, and lay
down in helpless expectation of his late. But no
sooner had he abandoned the case, than fortune, as
usual, put in her oar, and displayed that capricious
but omnipotent power for which she has so long and
so deservedly been celebrated. The same Wyandott
trader, who had encountered them in the wilderness,
now again appeared at Sandusky, with several horses
laden with kegs of rum, and, in the course of two
days, completely stripped them of every skin, blanket,
and article of merchandise which had escaped his
rapacity befbre.
  On the morning of the third (lay, Chickatommo and
his party awoke, as from a dream, and found themselves
poor, destitute, ragged, and hungry, without the means
of supplying any of their wants. Ashamed to return
to their village in this condition, after having sent before them so magnificent a description of their wealth,
they determined to return to the Ohio, in hopes -of
again replenishing their purses, at the expense of
emigrants. They accordingly appeared, of their own
accord, before Duchouquet, and declared that, as the
scalp of their prisoner would be transported more
easily than his person, they had determined to burn
him on that evening; but, if he still wished to purchase
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
him, they would forego the expected entertainment for
his sake, and let him have the prisoner upon good
terms. Duchouquet eagerly accepted the offer, and
instantly counted down six hundred silver brooches,
the ordinary price of a prisoner. The Indians lost no
time in delivering him into the trader's hands, and,
having taken an affectionate leave of him, they instantly set out for the Ohio.
  Johnston's gratification may easily be conceived, but
on the following day his apprehensions returned with
renewed vigor. To his great surprise, Chickatommo
and his party again made their appearance at Sandusky,
having abandonel their contemplated trip to the Ohio,
and loitered about the village for several (lays, without
any visible cause for such capricious conduct. Johnston, recollecting their former whimsical bargain with
the Mingo, was apprehensive that the same scene was to
be repeated, and, resolving not to be taken alive, he
armed himself, and awaited, calmly, their determination. His suspicions, however, were entirely groundless.
They passed him several times without the slightest
notice, and at length set off, in earnest, for Detroit,
leaving him at full liberty with his friend Duchouquet.
  On the evenilng of their departure, a Delaware arrived from the Miami villages, with the heart-rending
intelligence, that his unfortunate companion, Flinn,
had been burned at the stake a few days before. The
savage declare: that he himself had been present at
the spectacle, had assisted in torturinlg him, and had
afterward eaten a portion of his flesh, which, he declared, " was sweeter than bear's meat."   The intelligence was fully confirmed on the following day, by
a Canadian trader, who had just left the Miami towns.
He stated that Flinn had been taken to their villages,
and, at first, had entertained strong hopes of being
adopted, as his bold, frank, and fearless character had
made considerable impression upon his enemies. But
the arrival of some wild chiefs, from the extreme
northern tribes, moAt of whom were cannibals, had
completely changed his prospects. A wild council was
held, in which the most terrible sentiments, with regard
230
JOINSTON, FLINN, AND SZYLES.
to the whites, were uttered. The custom of adopting
prisoners was indignantly reprobated as frivolous and
absurd, and the resolution proclaimed, that henceforth
no quarter should be given, to any age, sex or condition.
  Flinn was accordingly seized and fastened to the
stake. The trader was one of' the spectators. Flinn
quickly observed him, and asked if he was not ashamed
to witness the distress of a fellow-creature, in that
manner, without making some eflbrt to relieve him;
upon which he instantly ran to the village and brought
out several kegs of rum, which he offered, as a ransom,
for the prisoner. The Indians, who, by this time, were
in a terrible rage, rejected the offer with fierceness, and
split the heads of the kegs with their tomahawks, suffering the liquor to flow unheeded upon the ground. The
disappointed trader again returned to the village, and
brought out six hundred silver brooches. They, in turn,
were rejected with additional fuiry, and not without a
threat of treating him in the same manner if he again
interfered. The trader, finding every effort vain, communicated his ill success to Flinn, who heard him with
composure, and barely replied, "Then all I have to
say is, God have mercy upon my soul!"
   The scene of torture then commenced, amid whoops
and yells, which struck terror to the heart of the trader,
but which the prisoner bore with the most heroic fortitude. Not a groan escaped him. He walked calmly
around the stake for several hours, until his flesh was
roasted, and the fire had burned down. An old squaw
then approached, in order to rekindle it, but Flinn,
watching his opportunity, gave her so furious a kick in
the breast that she fell back totally insensible, and ibr
several minutes she was unable to take any further
share in the ceremony.   The warriors then bored his
ankles, and passing thongs through the sinews, confined them closely to the stake, so that he was unable
afterward to offer the same resistance. His sufferings
continued for many hours, until they were at length
terminated by the tomahawk.
  Within a few days he also heard of Skyles. After
leaving Johnston, this gentleman had been conducted
231
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
to one of the towns on the Miami of the lake, near the
scene of' Flinn's execution, where, as usual, he was
compelled to run the gauntlet. The Indian boys were
his chief tormentors. One of the little urchins displayed
particular address and dexterity in his infernal art.
He provided himself with a stout switch taken from a
thorn-tree, upon which one of the largest thorns had
been permitted to remain. As Skyles passed him, he
drove the keen instrument up to the head in his naked
back. The switch was rested from his grasp, and was
borne by Skyles, sticking in his back, to the end of his
painful career. He continued in the hands of' the same
crabbed master who had taken such pleasure in tormenting him upon the march through the wilderness;
but had found means to make himself so acceptable to
his squaw, that his time was rendered more agreeable
than he could have anticipated.
  He carried water for her, gathered her wood, and
soothed her sullen temper by a thousand artifices, so
that her husband, who stood in some aw\e of his helpmate, was compelled to abate somewhat of his churlishness. He at length reaped the fruit of his civility.
The squaw returned one evening alone to the wigwam,
and informed Skyles, in confidence, that his death had
been determined on in council, and that the following
day had been appointed for his execution. He at first
doubted the truth of this startling intelligence, and
retiring to rest as usual, feigne I to be asleep, but
listened attentively to the conversation of the old
squaw with her daughter, a young girl of fifteen. His
douats were quickly dispelled. His approaching execution was the subject of conversation between them,
and their language soon became warm. The old lady
insisted upon it that he was a good man, and ought to
be savedl; while the girl exulted at the idea of witnessing his agonies, declaring repeatedly that the "white
people were all devils," and ought to be put to death.
   At length they ceased wrangling, and composed
themselves to rest. Skyles then arose, took down his
master's rifle, shot bag, and corn pouch, and, stepping
lightly over the bodies of the,family, quickly gained the
232
JOHNSTON, PLIN-, AND SIKYLES.
wood, and bent his steps to the bank of the Miami
River. Without an inutant's delay, he plunged into
the stream and swam to the opposite side. In doing so,
ho%%ever, he completely ruined his rifle, and was compelled to throw it away.    Retaining the wallet of
parched corn, he directed his steps to the southward,
iltending, if possible, to strike the settlements in Kentucky, but so poor a woodsman was he that, after a
haid march of six hours, he again stumbled upon the
Miami, within one hundred yards of the spot where he
had crossed it beibfoe. While anxiously meditating
upon the best means of avoiding the dangers which
surrounded him, he heard the tinkle of a bell, within
a few hundred yards of the spot where he stood, and
directing his steps toward it, he saw a horse grazing
quietly upon the rank grass of the bottom.
  Instantly mounting him, he again attempted to move
in a southern d,re tion, but was compelled by the thickness of the wood, anld the quantity of fallen timber, to
change his course so frequently that he again became
bewildered, and, abandoning his horse, determined to
prosecute his journey on foot. Daylight tound him in.
a deep forest, without a path to direct him, without the
means of procuring food, and without the slightest
knowledge of any of those signs by which an experienced woodsman is enabled to direct his course through
a trackless wille-rness with such unerring certainty.
Fearful of stumbling unawares upon some Itndian
town, he lay concealed all day, and at night reconmmence(edl his journey. But friesh perplexities awaited
him at every st p. He was constantly encountering
either a small village or a solitary wigwam, from which
he was frequently chased by the Indian do,gs with such
loud and furious barking that he more than once consideired dAtection inevitable.
  In this manner he wandered through the woods for
several days, until, faint with hunger, he determined at
all risks to enter an Indian village, and either procure
food or perish in the attempt. Having adopted this resolution, he no longer loitered on the way, but throwing
himself boldly upon the first path which presented it233
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
self, he follovwed it at a brisk and steady pace, careless
of where it might lead. About four o'clock in the afternoon, he came so suddenly upon a village that it was
impossible to retreat without exposing himself to detectiou, and, as he considered it madness to enter it in daylight, he concealed himself among some old logs until
nightfall, when he sallied out like an owl or a wolf in
search of something to allay the piercing pangs of
hunger. Nothing could be picked up upon the skirts
of the village, as neither roasting-ears nor garden fruit
were in season, and it became necessary to enter the
town or perish of hunger.
  Fortunately, the embers of a decayed fire lay near
him, in which he found a sufficient quantity of coal with
which to black his face and hands; and, having completely disguised himself in this manner, he boldly
marched into the hostile town to take such fate as it
should please heaven to send. He luckily had with
him the remnant of a blanket, which he disposed about
his person in the usual Indian manner, and imitating at
the same time their straggling gait, he kept the middle
of the street and passed unquestioned by squaw or warrior. Fortunately for him, the streets were almost entirely deserted, and, as he afterward learned, most of
the warriors were absent. Security, however, was not
his present object so much as food, which, indeed, had
now become indispensable. Yet how was he to obtain
it? He would not have hesitated to steal, had lie known
where to look for the larders; nor to beg, had he not
known that he would have been greeted with the tomahawk.
  While slowly marching through the village, and ruminating upon some feasible plan of satisfying his wants,
he saw light in a wigwam at some distance, which gave
it the appearance of a trader's booth. Cautiously approaching, he satisfied himself of the truth of his conjecture. A white man was behind a counter dealing
out various articles to several squaws who stood around
him. After some hesitation, Skyles entered the shop,
and in bad English asked for rum. The trader regarded him carelessly, and without appearing surprised at
234
JOHNSTON, FLINN, AND SKYLES.
either his dress or manner, replied that he had no rum
in the house, but would go and bring him some, if he
could wait a few moments. So saying, he leaped carelessly over the counter and left the shop. Skyles instantly followed him, and stopping him in the street,
briefly recounted his story, and throwing himself upon
his mercy, earnestly implored his assistance.
  The trader appeared much astonished, and visibly
hesitated.  Quickly recovering hiimself, however, he
assured Skyles that he would use every effort to save
him, although in doing so he himself would incur great
risk. He then informed him that a band of Shawnees
had appeared at the village on that very morning in keen
pursuit of a prisoner, who (they said) had escaped a few
days before, and whom they supposed to be still in the
neighborhood, from the zigzag manner in which he had
traveled. Many of the warriors of' the town were at
that moment assisting the Shawnees in hunting for him.
He added that they might be expected to return in the
morning, in which case, if discovered, his death would
be certain. Skyles listened in great alarm to his account of the danger which surrounded him. If he left
the village, he could scarcely expect to escape the numerous bands who \\ere ratuging the forest in search of
him. If he remained where he was, the danger was
still more imminent.
  Under these circumstances, he earnestly requested the
advice of the trader as to the best means of avoiding
his enemies. The man replied that he must instantly
leave the village, as keen eyes would be upon him in
the morning, and his design would be penetrated; that
lie must conceal himself in a hazel thicket, which he
pointed out to him, where in a short time he would join
him  with food, and where they could arrange some
feasible plan of escape.   They then separated, the
trader returning to his shop, and Skylcs repairing to
the friendly thicket. Here within a few minutes he
was joined by his friend, who informed him that he saw
but one possible mode of escape; that it would be impossible for him either to remain where he was, or to
attempt to reach the white settlements through the
235
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
woods; but he declared that if he was diligent and active, he might overtake a boat which had left them that
morning for Lake Erie, and offered him his own skiff
for that purpose.
  He added that the boat was laden with furs, and was
commanded by an English captain, who would gladly
receive him on board.   Skyles eagerly embraced the
offer, and they proceeded without a moment's delay to
the river shore, where a handsoime skiff with two oars
lay in readiness for the water. Haviiing taken an affectionate leave of the trader, Skyles put off from
shore, and quickly gaining the current, rowed until daylig'it with the zeal of a man who knew the value of
life andl liberty. His greatest apprehension was that
his fligh!t wouhl be discovered in time to prevent his
reaching the boat; and at every rustling of the bushes
on the bank of the river, or at every cry of the owl
which arose from the deep forest around him, the blood
would rush back to his heart, and he would fancy that
his enemies were upon him. At length, between dawn
and sunrise, he beheld the boat, which he had pursued
so eagerly, only a few hundred yards in front, drifting
slowly and calmly down the stream.
  He redoubled his exertionls, and in half an hour was
within hailing distance. He called aloud for them to
halt, but no answer was returned. Upon coming alongside he was unable to see a single man on board. Supposing her crew asleep, he mounted the side of the vessel, and saw the man at the helm enjoying a very comfortable nap with the most enviable disregard to the
dangers which might await him in the waters of Lake
Erie, which were then in sight. The helmsman started
up, rubbed his eyes, looked around him, and after saluting his visitor, observed that "he had almost fallen
asleep."  Skyles agreed with him, and anxiously inquired for the captain. The latter soon made his appearance in a woolen nightcap, and the negotiation
commenced. The captain asked who he was, and what
was the cause of so early a visit? Skyles was fearful
of committing himself by a premature disclosure of his
real character, and replied, that he was an adventurer
236
JOHNSTOV, FLINN, AND SKYLES.
who had been looking for land upon the Auglaize; but
that he had been driven from the country by the apprehension of outrage from the Indians, who had lately
become unusually incensed against the whites.
  The captain coolly replied that he had heard of one
white man having been burned a few days before at one
of the Miami villages, and had understood that another
had avoided the same fate only by running away into
the woods, where, unless retaken, it was supposed he
would perish, as he had shown himself a miserable
woodsman, and as numerous parties were in search of
him. After a moment's hesitation, Skyles frankly acknowledged himself to be that miserable fugitive, and
threw himself at once upon their mercy. The English
captain heard him apparently without surprise, and
granted his request without hesitation. All was done
with the utmost sang froid. In a short time they arrived at Detroit, where, to his no small astonishment,
he beheld Chickatommo, Messhawa, and their party,
who had just arrived from Sandusky, after the sale of
Johnston. Carefully avoiding them, he lay close in the
house of a trader until the following day, %when another
large party arrived in pursuit of him (having traced
him down the river to Lake Erie), and paraded the
streets for several days, uttering loud complaints against
those who had robbed them of their prisoner. Poor
Skyles entertained the most painIful apprehensions for
several days, but was at length relieved by their dcparture.   As soon as possible, he obtained a passage to
Montreal, and returned in safety to the United States.
  In noticing the fate of the companions of Johnston's
captivity, we are naturally led to say something of the
only female of the party. The reader can not have
forgotten that one of the Miss Flemings was killed upon
the Ohio, and that the other became a prisoner and was
assigned to the Cherokees. Johnston had been much
surprised at the levity of her conduct, when first taken.
Instead of appearing dejected at the dreadful death of
her si.ter, and the still more terrible fate of her friends,
she never appeared more lively or better reconciled to
her fate than while her captors lingered upon the banks
237
xx BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR.

midst of a prosperous professional career, upon the proceeds of
which his family were mainly dependent for support; although

' past the meridian of life, and suffering greatly from the infirmi-

ties of a weakened constitution and waning strength, he cast
aside these and all other considerations, and counted all as loss
for the Cross of Christ. “I do not think,” says a daughter, “ it
was ever understood how completely my father sacrificed his
own and his children's worldly prospects by abandoning the
practice of law for the ministry. Not that he considered it a
sacrifice; but still it was; and so was the emancipation of his
slaves.” ’

To recruit his shattered health, in preparation for his new
work, he passed a few months, during the winter of 1849-50, at
the water-cure establishment in Brattleboro, Vermont. He re-
turned much improved, and with spirits renovated and buoyant.
Under a licensure, in 1850, and an ordination, in 1851, from the
Presbytery of Ebenezer, he resumed the long-abandoned labors
of his young life, his early love. Here are some passages from
the Pbn of the same gifted daughter, beautifully descriptive of
his student habits during his ministerial life:

“ He threw himself, heart and soul, into his ministerial work.
His reading, which had always taken the widest range of his-
tory, science, poetry, and fiction, was thenceforth mainly con-
fined to the Scriptures, and every work of any celebrity written
for their exposition. He quickly gathered about him all the best
authors on these and kindred subjects; but he was particularly
devoted to the German commentators. But first, last, and above
all, he studied the Scriptures in the original. Even our serv-
ants, who could not read, knew his Hebrew Bible and Greek
Testament; and it was amusing to see with what gravity and
promptness they would select them from a pile of miscellaneous
books when called for. He indeed ‘searched the Script-
ures;’ and as a burning glass collects the faint and scattered
rays of the sun into one intense and brilliant flame, so he gath-
ered from ‘Moses and the Prophets’ the dim foreshadowings of

the Sun of Righteousness; and through the medium of his vivid ' S

and powerful intellect, poured such a flood of light upon the
sacred page that the simplest and most unlearned of his hearers
might read the dark sayings and understand the hidden things

 of God. Yet he was equally instructive and delightful when he

chose some theme from the Gospel or the Epistles. It is a mat-
ter of deep regret that these sermons, so pure, so strong, so rich,

WESTERN ADVENTURE,
of the Ohio. Upon the breaking up of the party, the
Cherokees conducted their prisoner toward the Miami
villages, and Johnston saw nothing more of her until
after his own liberation. While he remained at the
house of Mr. Duchouquet, the small party of Cherokees to whom she belonged, suddenly made their appearance in the village, in a condition so tattered and
dilapidated as to satisfy every one that all their booty
had been wasted with their usual improvidence.
  Miss Fleming's appearance, particularly, had been
entirely changed. All the levity which had astonished
Johnston so much on the banks of the Ohio, was completely gone. Her dress was tattered, her cheeks sunken,
her eyes discolored by weeping, and her whole manner
expressive of the most heartfelt wretchedness. Johnston addressed her with kindness, and inquired the cause
of so great a change, but she only replied by wringing
her hands, and bursting into tears. Her master quickly
summoned her away, and on the morning after her arrival, she was compelled to leave the village, and accompany them to Lower Sandusky.       Within a few
days, Johnston, in company with his friend Duchouquet,
followed them to that place, partly upon business, partly
with the hope of procuring her liberation. He found the
town thronged with Indians of various tribes, and there,
for the first time, he learned that his friend Skyles had
effected his escape. Upon inquiring for the Cherokees,
he learned that they were encamped with their prisoner
within a quarter of a mile of the town, holding themselves aloof from the rest, and evincing the most jealous watchfulness over their prisoner.
  Johnston instantly applied to the traders of Sandusky
for their good offices, and, as usual, the request was
promptly complied with. They went out in a body to
the Cherokee camp, accompanied by a white man named
Whittaker, who had been taken from Virginia when a
child, and had become completely naturalized among the
Indians.  This Whittaker was personally known to
Miss Fleming, having often visited Pittsburgh, where her
father kept a small tavern, much frequented by Indians
and traders. As soon as she beheld him, therefore, she
238
JOHNSTON, FL YNN, AND SKYLES.
ran up to the spot where he stood, and bursting into
tears, implored him to save her from the cruel fate which
she had no doubt awaited her. He engaged very zealously in her service, and finding that all the offers of
the traders were rejected with determined obstinacy, he
returned to Detroit, and solicited the intercession of an
old chief known among the whites by the name of
"Old King Crane," assuring him (a lie which we can
scarcely blame) that the woman was his sister.
   King Crane listened with gravity to the appeal of
Wh ittaker, acknowledged the propriety of interfering in
the case of so near a relative, and very calmly walked
out to the Cherokee camp, in order to try the efficacy
of his own eloquence in behalf of the white squaw. He
found her master, however, perfectly inexorable. The
argument gradually waxed warm, until at length the
Cherokees became enraged, and told the old man that
it was a disgrace to a chief like him to put himself
upon a level with " white people," and that they looked
upon him as no better than "dirt." At this insup)portable insult, Kinlg Crane became exasperated in turn,
and a very edifying scene ensued, in which each bespattered the other with a profusion of abuse for several minutes, until the Old King recollected himself sufficiently to draw off' for the present, and concert measures for obtaining redress. He returned to the village
in a towering passion, and annoumced his determination
to collect his young men and rescue the white squaw
by force; and if the Cherokees dared to resist, he swore
that he would take their scalps upon the spot.
   Whittaker applauded this doughty resolution, but
warned him of the necessity of dispatch, as the Cherokees, alarmed at the idea of losing their prisoner,
might be tempted to put her to death without further
delay. This advice was acknowledged to be of weight,
and before daylight on the following morning, King
Crane assembled his young men and advanced cautiously upon the Cherokee encampment. He found
.all but the miserable prisoner buried in sleep. She
had been stripped naked, her body painted black, and
in this condition had been bound to a stake, around
          22
239
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
which hickory poles had already been collected, and
every other disposition made for burning her alive at
daylight. She was moaning in a low tone as her deliverers approached, and was so much exhausted as
not to be aware of their approach until King Crane
had actually cut the cords which bound her, with his
knife. He then ordered his young men to assist her
in putting on her clothes, which they obeyed with the
most stoical indifference.
  As soon as her toilet had been completed, the King
awakened her masters, and informed them that the
squaw was his! that if they submitted quietly, it was
well-if not, his young men and himself were ready
for them. The Cherokees, as may readily be imagined,
protested loudly against such unrighteous proceedings,
but what could words avail against drawn tomahawks
and superior numbers? They finally expressed their
willingness to resign the squaw, but hoped that King
Crane would not be such a "beast" as to refuse them
the ransom which he had offered them on the preceding day. The king replied coolly, that he had the
squaw now in his own hands, and would serve them
only right if he refused to pay a single brooch; but
that he disdained to receive any thing at their hands
without paying an equivalent, and would give them
six hundred silver bro,ches. He then returned to
Lower Sandusky, accompanied by the liberated prisoner. She was instantly painted as a squaw by Whittaker, and sent off under care of two trusty Indians
to Pittsburgh, where she arrived in safety in the
course of the following week.
  The Cherokees, in the evening, paraded the streets
of Sandusky, armed and painted, as if upon a war
party, and loudly complained of the violence which had
been offered to them. They declared that they would
not leave town until they had shed the blood of a
white man, in revenge for the loss of their prisoner.
Johnston and Duchouquet were compelled to remain
closely at home for several days, until, to their great
joy, the Cherokees finally left the village and were
seen no more.
240
JOHNSTON, FLIXN, AND SKYLES.
  The remainder of Johnston's narrative is easily dispatched. He soon after left Lower Sandusky, and embarked in a boat laden with fur for Detroit. After
remaining here a. few days he took passage to Montreal, and for the first and last time had an opportunity
of beholding the tremendous Falls of Niagara. *
Having arrived at Montreal in safety, he remained a
few days in order to arrange his affairs, and as soon as
possible continued his journey by way of Fort Stanwix
to New York. There he had an interview with President Washington, who, having been informed of his
escape, sent for him, in order to make a number of
inquiries as to the strength of the tribes through which
he had passed, the force and condition of the British
garrisons, and the degree of countenance which they
had afforded to the hostile Indians. Having given all
the information of which he was possessed, he was dismissed with great kindness, and in the course of the
following week he found himself once more in the
bosom of his family.
  As the reader may probably take some interest in the
fate of the Indians whom we have mentioned, we are
enabled to add something upon that subject. Chickatommo was killed at the decisive battle of the "Fallen
Timber," where the united force of the North-western
tribes was defeated by General Wayne. Messhawa
fought at the same place, but escaped, and afterward
became a devoted follower of the celebrated Tecumseh.
He fought at Tippecanoe, Rai-in, and finally at the
River Thames, where it is supposed he was killed.
King Crane lived to a great age, was present at St.
Clair's defeat, and at the "Fallen Timber," but finally
became reconciled to the Americans, and fought under
Harrison at Thames. Whittaker, the white man,
was in St. Clair's defeat, and afterward with the Indians against Wayne. He has been dead many years.
Tom   Lewis fought against the Americans in all the
north-western battles, until the final peace in 1796, and
  * This was an Iroquois word, and in their language signifies "The
Thunder of the Waters." It is pronounced O-ni-aa-gaa-ra.
241.
242         WESTERN ADVENTURE.
then was one of the deputation who came on to Washington City, where Johnston saw him in 1797. He
afterward rose to the rank of chief among the Shawnees, but having an incurable propensity to rum and
thieving, he was degraded from his rank, and removed,
with a band of his countrymen, to the country west of
the Mississippi.
243
WILLIAM H UBBELL.
                CHAPTER XI.
IN the year 1791, while the Indians were yet trouble   some, especially on the banks of the Ohio, Captain
WILLIAM HUBBELL, who had previously emigrated to
Kentucky from the State of Vermont, and who, after
having fixed his family in the neighborhood of Frankfort, then a frontier settlement, had been compelled to
go to the eastward on business, was a second time on his
way to this country. On one of the tributary streams
of the river Monongahela, he procured a flat-bottomed
boat, and embarked, in company with Mr. Daniel Light
and Mr. William Plascut and his family, consisting of
a wife and eight children, destined for Limestone, Kentucky. On their progress down the river Ohio, and
soon after passing Pittsburgh, they saw evident traces
of Indians along the banks, and there is every reason to
believe that a boat which they overtook, and which
through carelessness was suffered to run aground on an
island, became a prey to these merciless savages.
  Though Captain Hubbell and his party stopped some
time for it in a lower part of the river, it did not arrive,
and it has never, to their knowledge, been heard of
since. Before they reached the mouth of the Great Kenawha, they had, by several successive additions, increased their number to twenty, consisting of nine men,
three women, and eight children. The men, besides
those mentioned above, were one John Stoner, an Irishman and a Dutchman whose names are not recollected,
Messrs. Ray and Tucker, and a Mr. Kilpatrick, whose
two daughters also were of the party. Information received at Gallipolis confirmed the expectation which appearances previously raised, of a serious conflict with a
large body of Indians, and, as Captain Hubbell had
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
been regularly appointed commander of the boat, every
possible preparation was made for a formidable and successful resistance of the--anticipated attack.
  The nine men were divided into three watches for the
night, which were alternately to continue awake and be
on the lookout for two hours at a time. The arms
on board, which consisted principally of old muskets
much out of order, were collected, loaded, and put in
the best possible condition for service. At about sunset
on that day (the twenty-third day of March, 1791), our
party overtook a fleet of six boats descending the river
in company, and intended to have continued with them;
but, as their passengers seemed to be more disposed to
dancing than fighting, and as, soon after dark, notwithstanding the remonstrances of Captain Hubbell, they
commenced fiddling and dancing instead of preparing
their arms and taking the necessary rest preparatory to
battle, it was wisely considered more hazardous to be in
such company than to be alone.
  It was therefore determined to proceed rapidly forward by aid of the oars, and to leave those thoughtless
f4llow-travelers behind. One of the boats, however, belonging to the fleet, commanded by a Captain Greathouse, adopted the same plan, and for awhile kept up
with Captain Hubbell; but, all its crew at length falling asleep, that boat also ceased to be propelled by the
oars, and Captain Hubbell and his party proceeded
steadily forward alone. Early in the night a canoe was
dimly seen floating down the river, in which were probably Indians reconnoitering, and other evident indications were observed of the neighborhood and hostile intentions of a formidable party of savages.
  It was now agreed that should the attack, as was
probable, be deferred till morning, every man should be
up before the dawn, in order to make as great a show as
possible of numbers and of strength; and that, whenever
the action should take place, the women and children
should lie down on the cabin floor, and be protected as
well as they could by the trunks and other baggage
which might be placed around them. In this perilous
situation they continued during the night, and the cap244
WILLIAM HUBBELL.
tain, who had not slept more than one hour since he left
Pittsburgh, was too deeply impressed with the imminent
danger which surrounded him to obtain any rest at that
time.
  Just as daylight began to appear in the east, and before the men were up and at their posts agreeably to arrangement, a voice at some distance below them in a
plaintive tone repeatedly solicited them to come on
shore, as there were some white persons who wished to
obtain a passage in their boat. This the captain very
naturally and correctly concluded to be an Indian artifice, and its only effect was to rouse the men and place
every one on his guard. The voice of entreaty was soon
changed into the language of indignation and insult,
and the sound of distant paddles announced the approach of the savage fbe. At length three Indian canoes were seen through the mist of the morning rapidly
advancing. With the utmost coolness the captain and
his companions prepared to receive them. The chairs,
tables, and other incumbrances were thrown into the
river, in order to clear the deck for action.
  Every man took his position, and was ordered not to
fire till the savages had approached so near that (to use
the words of Captain Hubbell) "the flash from the
guns might singe their eyebrows," and a special caution
was given that the men should fire successively, so that
there might be no interval. On the arrival of the canoes, they were found to contain about twenty-five or
thirty Indians each. As soon as they had approached
within the reach of musket-shot, a general fire was given
from one of them, which wounded Mr. Tucker through
the hip so severely that his leg hung only by the flesh,
and shot Mr. Light just below the ribs. The three canoes placed themselves at the bow, stern, and on the
right side of the boat, so that they had an opportunity
of raking in every direction. The fire now commenced
from the boat, and had a powerful effect in checking the
confidence and fury of the Indians.
  The captain, after firing his own gun, took up that
of one of the wounded men, raised it to his shoulder,
and was about to discharge it, when a ball came and
245
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
took away the lock. He coolly turned round, seized a
brand of fire from the kettle which served fbr a caboose,
and, applying it to the pan, discharged the piece with
effect. A very regular and constant fire was now kept
up on both sides. The captain was just in the act of
raising his gun a third time, when a ball passed through
his ri-ht arm, and for a moment disabled him. Scarcely
had he recovered from the shock and re acquired the
use of his hand, which had been suddenly drawn up by
the wound, when he observe(d the Indians in one of the
canoes just about to board the boat in its bow, where
the horses were placed belonging to the party. So near
had they approa~hed, that some of them had actually
seized with their hands the side of the boat.
   Severely wounded as he was, he caught up a pair of
 horsemen's pistols, and rushed forward to repel the at tempt at boarding. On his approach the Indians fell
 back, and he discharged a pistol with effect at the fbre most man. After firing the secoiid pistol he found him self without arms, and was compelled to retieat; but,
 stepping back upon a pile of small wood % hich had been
 prepared for burning in the kettle, the thought struck
-him that it might be made use of in repelling the tfoe,
and he continue,l for some time to strike them with it
so f)rcibly andl actively, that they were unahle to enter
the boat; and at length he wounded one of them so severely, that with a yell they suddenly gave way. All
the canoes instantly discontinued the contest, and directed their course to Captain Greathouse's boat, which
was then in sight. Here a striking contirast was exhibited to the firmness and intrepidity which had been displayed.
   Instead of resisting the attack, the people on board of
 this boat retired to the cabin in dismay. The Indians
 entered it without opposition and rowed it to the shore,
 where they instantly killed the captain and a lad of
 about fourteen years of age. The women they placed
 in the center of their canoes, and, manning them with
 fresh hands, again pursued Captain Hubbell and party.
 A melancholy alternative now presented itself to these
 brave but almost desponding men-either to fall a prey
246
WILLIAM HUBBELL.
to the savages themselves, or to run the risk of shooting
the women, who had been placed in the canoes in the
hope of deriving protection from their presence. But
"self-preservation is the first law of nature," and the
capltain very justly remarked there would not be much
humanity in preserving their lives at such a sacrifice,
merely that they might become victims of savage cruelty
at some subsequent period.
  There were now but four men left on board of Captain Hubbell's boat capable of defending it, and the c;ptain himself was severely wounded in two places. The
second attack, however, was resisted with almost incredible firmness and vigor. Whenever the Indians would
rise to fire, their opponents would commonly give them
the first shot, which in almost every instance would
prove fatal. Notwithstanding the disparity of numbers,
and the exhausted condition of the de'enders of the boat,
the Indians at length appeared to despair of success,
and the canoes successively retired to the shore. Just
as the last one was departing, Captain Hubbell called
to the Indian who was standing in the stern, and, on his
turning round, discharged his piece at him. When the
smoke, which for a moment obstructed the vision, was
dissipated, he was seen lying on his back, and appeared
to he severely, perlmps mortally, wounded.
  Unfortunately, the boat now drifted near to the shore
where the Indians were collected, and a large concourse,
probably between four and five hundred, were seen rushing down on the bank. Ray and Plascut, the only men
remaining unhurt, were placed at the oars, and, as the
boat was not more than twenty yards from shore, it was
deemed prudent for all to lie down in as safe a position
as possible, and attempt to push forward with the utmost practicable rapidity. While they continued in this
situation, nine balls were shot into one oar, and ten into
the other, without wounding the rowers, who were hidden from view and protected by the side of the boat and
the blankets in its stern. During this dreadful exposure to the fire of the savages, which continued about
twenty minutes, Mr. Kilpatrick observed a particular
Indian, whom he thought a favorable mark for his rifle,
          23
247
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR. xxi

so spiritual, should live only in the memory of those who heard
them, and there only in faint and shadowy outline. But my
father never wrote out a sermon, as I have often heard him say
to those who, on various occasions, sought them for publication.
He always composed with a pen in his hand and a half-sheet of
paper before him, on which he would occasionally write a word,
or make some mark significant only to himself; but he generally
left this scrap on his desk, and used no notes in the pulpit. I
have often possessed myself of these bits of manuscript a.fter-
ward, but the few cabalistic words and signs suggested almost
nothing to myniind. . . . He had a number of little note-

books, one of which he had always beside him as he read, and-
,in which he made copious entries, but in the same fragmentary

style, which, while perfectly intelligible and satisfactory to him-
self, was hopelessly confusing to any other mind. . . . But in
the midst of these notes, Hebrew, Greek, and English-—-scarcely
more intelligible to me—'my father had penned brief, fervent
sentences, evidently the spontaneous overflow of deep, devo-
tional feeling; and at the beginning of each little volume, in
a few solemn words, he consecrated himself anew to the serv-
ice of the Lord Jesus, signing his name in full, as if it were a.
covenant between his soul and God; and doubtless he so re-
garded it."

The following synopsis of his labors, from 1851 to 1857, was
given by,Judge Lewis Collins, in a notice published in 1859:

“ During the_summer and fall of 1851, be occupied the pulpit of
Rev. Dr. W. L. Breckinridge, at Louisville, in the absence of that
gentleman in Europe. In the fall of 1851, he was called to the
pastoral care of the First Presbyterian Church of Indianapolis.
He preached with great acceptability to that congregation, which
was devotedly attached to him, for between four and five years.
During that time he was elected, by a unanimous vote of the
Board of Trustees, President of South Hanover College, Indiana,
which oflice he was induced to accept—but, at the earnest en-
treaty of his church, afterward resigned. He was subsequently

I called to the Central Church of Cincinnati, vacated by the re-

moval of Dr. Rice to St. Louis, which he declined. About the
close of the year 1855, he was compelled, by failing health, to
resign the pastoral charge of the Indianapolis Church. Near the

close of his pastorate in that church, he was invited to take --

charge of the large and flourishing Presbyterian Church at Au-
gusta, Georgia—and, in the hope of restoring~his health in a

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
and, notwithstanding the solemn warning of Captain
Hubbell, rose to shoot him. He immediately received
a ball in his mouth, which passed out at the back part
of his head, and was almost at the same moment shot
through the heart. He fell among the horses that about
the same time were killed, and presented to his afflicted
daughters and fellow-travelers, who were witnesses of
the awful occurrence, a spectacle of horror which we
need not further attempt to describe.
  The boat was now providentially and suddenly carried
out into the middle of the stream, and taken by the current beyond the reach of the enemy's balls. Our little
band, reduced as they were in numbers, wounded, afflicted, and almo)st exhausted by fatigue, were still unsubdued in spirit, and being assembled in all their
strength--men, women, and children-with an appearance of triumph gave three hearty cheers, calling to the
Indians to come on again if they were fond of the sport.
  Thus ended this awful conflict, in which, out of
nine men, two only escaped unhurt.      Tucker and
Kilpatrick were killed on the spot, Stoner was mortally
wounded and died on his arrival at Limestone, and
all the rest, excepting Ray and Plascut, were severely
wounded.    The women and children were all uninjured, excepting a little son of Mr. Plascut, who, after
the battle was over, came to the captain and with great
coolness requested him to take a ball out of his head.
On examination, it appeared that a bullet which had
passed through the. side of the boat, had penetrated
the forehead of this little hero, and remained under
the skin.   The captain took it out, and the youth,
observing, " That is not all," raised his arm, and exhibited a piece of bone at the point of his elbow, which
had been shot off and hung only by the skin. His
mother exclaimed, "Why did you not tell me of this?"
" Because," he coolly replied, " the captain directed us
to be silent during the action, and I thought you would
be likely to make a noise if I told you."
  The boat made the best of its way down the river,
and the object was to reach Limestone that night.
The captain's arm had bled profusely, and he was
248
WILLIAM HUBBELL.
compelled to close the sleeve of his coat in order to
retain the blood and stop its effusion. In this situation,
tormented by excruciating pain and faint through loss
of blood, he was under the necessity of steering the
boat with his left arm, till about ten o'clock that night,
when he was relieved by Mr. William Brooks, who
resided on the bank of the river, and who was induced
by the calls of the suffering party to come out to their
assistance. By his aid and that of some other per~-ons
who were in the same manner brought to their relief,
they were enabled to reach Limestone about twelve
o'clock that night.
  Immediately on the arrival of Mr. Brooks, Captain
Hubbell, relieved from labor and responsibility, sunk
ulnder the weight of pain and fatigue, atid became for
a while totally insensible. When the boat reached
Limestone, he found himself unable to walk, and was
obliged to be carried up to the tavern. Here he had
his wound dressed an(d continued several days, until he
acquired sufficient strength to proceed homeward.
  On the arrival of our party at Limestone, they found
a considerable force of armed men, about to march
against the same Indians from whose attacks they had
so severely suffered.  They now learned that, the
Sunday preceding, the same party of savages had cut
off a detachment of men ascending the Ohio from Fort
Washington, at the mollth of Licking River, and had
killed with their tomahawks, without firing a gun,
twenty-one out of twenty-two men, of which the detachment consisted.
  Crowds of people, as might be expected, came to
witness the boat which had been the scene of so much
heroism, and such horrid carnage, and to visit the
resolute little band by whom it had been so gallantly
and perseveringly defended. On examination, it was
found that the sides of the boat were literally filled
with bullets and with bullet holes. There was scarcely
a space of two feet square in the part above water, which
had not either a ball remaining in it or a hole through
which a ball had passed. Some persons, who had the
curiosity to count the number of holes in the blankets
249
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
which were hung up as curtains in the stern of the
boat, affirmed that in the space of five feet square
there were one hundred and twenty-two. Four horses
out of five were killed, and the escape of the fifth
amidst such a shower of balls appears almost miraculous.
  The day after the arrival of Captain Hubbell and
his companions, the five remaining boats, which they
hadl passed on the night preceding the battle, reached
Limestone. Those on board remarked, that during
the action they distinctly saw the flashes, but could
not hear the reports of the guns.    The Indians, it
appears, had met with too formidable a resistance from
a single boat to attack a fleet, and suffered thenu to
pass unmolestAd; and since that time, it is bei,eved
that no boat has been assailed by Indians on the Ohio.
  The force which marched out to disperse this formidable body of savages, discovered several Indians
dead on the shore near the scene of action. They also
found the bodies of Captain Greathouse and several
others, men, women, and children, who had been on
board of his boat. Most of them appeared to have been
whipped to death, as they were found stripped, tied to
trees, and marked with the appearance of lashes, and
large rods which seemed to have been worn with use
were observed lying near them.
250
NORTH- WESTERN CAMPAIGN.
               CHAPTER XII.
HERETOFORE our narrative has chiefly been con    fined to the adventures of individuals, or, at moost,
to the irregular forays of independent volunteers. We
cone now, however, to events upon a large scale, and
to a detail of national, not individual efibrts. Before
entering, however, upon such a brief notice as our
limits will -permit, of the events of the North-western
campaign, it will be necessary to premi.e a few observations upon the causes of the long-continued wfathre
to which the Western States were exposed, while those
upon the borders of the Atlantic enjoyed all the
blessings of peace.
  At the general pacification of 1783, there were
several stipulations upon both sides, which were not
complied with. Great Britain had agreed, as speedily
as possible, to evacuate all the North-western posts
which lay within the boundaries of the Unite d States;
while, on the other hand, Congress had stipulated that
no legal impediments should be thrown in the way, in
order to prevent the collection of debts due to British
merchants before the declaration of war. Large importations had been made by American merchants,
upon credit, in 1773 and 1774; and as all civil intercourse between the two countries had ceased until the
return of peace, the British creditors were unable to
collect their debts. Upon the final ratification of the
treaty, they naturally became desirous of recovering
their property, while their debtors as naturally were
desirous of avoiding payment.
  Congress had stipulated that no legal barrier should
be thrown in the way; buit, as is well known, Congress,
under the old confederation, was much more prolific in
251
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
" Resolutions," or rather "Recommendations," than
acts. The States might or might not comply with
them, as suited their convenience. Accordingly, when
Congress recommended the payment of all debts to the
State Legislatures, the Legislatures determinled that it
was inexpedient to comply. The British creditor complained to his Government; the Government remonstrated with Congress upon so flagrant a breach of one
of the articles of pacifi,.ation; Congress appealed to the
Legi4latures; the Legislatures were deaf and obstinate,
and there the matter rested. When the question was
agitated as to the evacuation of the posts, the British,
in turn, became refractory, and determined to hold them
until the acts of the State Legislatures, preventing the
legal collection of debts, were repealed. Many remonstrances were exchanged, but all to no purpose.
  In the meantime, the Indians were supplied, as usual,
by the British agents, and if not openly encouraged,
were undoubtedly secretly countenanced, in their repeated depredations upon the frontier inhabitants.
Tlhese, at length, became so serious, as to demand the
notice of Government. Accordingly, in the autumn of
1790, General Harmer was detached at the head of
three hundred regular troops, and more than one thousand militia, with orders to march upon their towns bordering upon the lakes, and inflict upon them such signal chastisement as should deter them from future depredations. On the twentieth of September, the various
troops designed for the expedition rendezvoused at
Fort Washington, now Cincinnati, and on the following
day commenced their march to the Miami villages.
The country was rough, swampy, and in many places
alm,ost impassable, so that seventeen days were consumed before the main body could come within striking
distance of the enemy. In the meantime, the great
scarcity of provisions rendered it necessary for the general to sweep the forest with numerous small detachments, and as the woods swarmed with roving bands of
Indians, most of these parties were cut off.
   At length, the main body, considerably reduced by
this petty warfare, came within a few miles of their
252
NORT- WESTERN CA.MPAIGN.
towns. Here the general ordered Captain Armstrong,
at the head of thirty regulars, and Colonel Hardin, of
Kentucky, with one hundred and fifty militia, to advance
and reconnoiter. In the execution of this order they
suddenly found themselves in the presence of a superior
number of Indians, who suddenly arose from the bushes
and opened a heavy fire upon them. The militia instantly gave way; while the regulars, accustomed to
more orderly movements, attempted a regular retreat.
The enemy rushed upon them, tomahawk in hand, and
completely surrounded them. The regulars attempted
to open a passage with the bayonet, but in vain. They
were all destroyed, with the exception of their captain
and one lieutenant.
  Captain Armstrong was remarkably stout and active,
and succeeded in breaking through the enemy's line,
although not without receiving several severe wounds.
Finding himself hard pressed, he plunged into a deep
and miry swamp, where he lay concealed during the
whole night, within two hundred yards of the Indian
camp, and witnessed the dances and joyous festivity
with which they celebrated their victory. The lieutenant (Hartshorn) escaped by accidentally stumbling over
a log and falling into a pit, where he lay concealed by the
rank grass which grew around him. The loss of the
militia was very trifling. Notwithstanding this severe
check, Harmer advanced with the main body upon their
villages, which he found deserted and in flames, the
Indians having fired them with their own hands. Here
he found several hundred acres of corn, which was completely destroyed. He then advanced upon the adjoining villages, which he found deserted and burned as the
first had been. Having destroyed all the corn which he
found, the army commenced its retreat from the Indian
country, supposing the enemy sufficiently intimidated.
  After marching about ten miles on the homeward
route, General Harmer received information which induced him to suppose that a body of Indians had returned and taken possession of the village which he had
just left. He detached, therefore, eighty regular troops
under the orders of Major Wyllys, and nearly the whole
253
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
of his militia, under Colonel Hardin, with orders to return to the village and destroy such of the enemy as
presented themselves.   The detachment accordingly
countermarched and proceeded, with all possible dispatch, to the appointed spot, fearful only that the enemy
might hear of their movement and escape before they
could come up. The militia, in loose order, took the
advance; the regulars, moving in a hollow squtre,
brought up the rear. Upon the plain in front of the
town, a number of Indians were seen, between whom
and the militia a sharp action commenced. After a
few rounds, with considerable effect upon both sides, the
savages fled in disorder, and were eagerly and inmpetuously pursued by the militia, who, in the ardor of the
chase, were drawn into the woods to a considerable distance from the regulars.
  Suddenly, from the opposite quarter several hundred
Indians appeared, rushing with loud yells up,)n the unsupported regulars. Major Wyllys, who was a brave
and experienced officer, formed his men in a square,
and endeavored to gain a more favorable spot of ground,
but was prevented by the desperate impetuosity with
which the enemy assailed him. Unchecked by the
murderous fire which was poured upon them from the
diff,rent sides of the square, they rushed in masses up
to the points of the bayonets, hurled their tomahawks
with fatal accuracy, and putting aside the bayonets
with their hands, or clogginig them with their bodies,
they were quickly mingled with the tro,ps, and handled
their long knives with destructive effect. In two minutes the bloody struggle was over. Major Wyllys fell,
together with seventy-three privates and one lieutenant.
One captain, one ensign, and seven privates-three of
whom were wounded-were the sole survivors of this
short but desperate encounter.
  The Indian loss was nearly equal, as they sustained
several heavy fires which the closeness of their masses
rendered very destructive, and as they rushed upon the
bayonets of the troops with the most astonishing disregard to their own safety. Their object was to overwhelm the regulars before the militia could return to
254
NORTH- WESTERN CAMPAIGN.
their support, and it was as boldly executed as it had been
finely conceived. In a short time the militia returned
from the pursuit of the flying party, which had decoyed
them to a distance; but it was now too late to retrieve
the fortune of the day. After some sharp skirmishing,
they effected their retreat to the main body, with the
loss of one hundred and eight killed and twenty-eight
wounded.   This dreadful slaughter so reduced the
strength and spirits of Harmer's army that he was happy
in being permitted to retreat unmolested, having totally
failed in accomplishing the objects of the expedition,
and by obstinately persevering in the ruinous plan of
acting in detachments, having thrown away the lives of
more than half of' his regular force. This abortive expedition served only to encourage the enemy and to give
additional rancor to their incursions.
  Before detailing the important events which followed,
however, we shall pause for a few moments to dwell
upon the singular adventure of an individual who attended Harmer in his expedition. JACKSON JOHONNET
was born in Connecticut in May, 1774. His father was
a farmer, and managed, upon a very small and by no
means fertile farm, to bring up a large family with credit
and decency. Jackhon, the eldest son, at the age of
sixteen, became desirous of engaging in some business
upon his own account; and, as his father could well
spare his labor upon the farm, he took leave of his
family in the spring of 1790, and embarked on board
of a coasting schooner for Boston. Having arrived in
this large city, and for the first time in his life finding
himself without friends, money, or employment of any
kind, he began to entertain some uncomfortable apprehensions of want. After wandering through the streets
for several days with a very disconsolate air, he was at
length accosted by a dexterous recruiting officer, who,
seeing him to be a perfect greenhorn, determined to enlist him if he could.
  Accosting him with great frankness, he soon became
acquainted with his real condition, and after some prelininary observations upon the gayety, recklessne-s, and
happiness of a soldier's life, he proposed that he should
255
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
enlist in his company and march out to the West, assuring him that if he was active and diligent he would
make an immense fortune in one year. Jackson at first
slirunk from the idea of " enlisting;" but his imaginati,)n became gradually heated at the glowing description
of the fertility of the Western country, and the facility
with which land could be acquired to any extent by a
successful soldier. He finally promised him a sergeant's
commission on the spot, and held out to him the prospact of a lieutenancy in case of good behavior. Jackson at length yielded to the eloquence of this modern
Kite, and in a few days found himself on the road to
Pittsburgh, and highly charmed with his martial appearance when arrayed in the uniform of his corps.
  Embarking on board of a flat-boat at Pittsburgh, he
descend,d the Ohio as far as Fort Washington (Cincinnati), where he found his regiment preparing to accompany Harmer. A few days after his arrival, the march
commenced. Here he, for the first time, awoke from
the pleasant dream in which he had indulged. He had
thought that war was a succession of battles and triumphv, leading naturally to wealth and glory. Splendid uniforms, gay music, waving plumes, and showy
parades had floated in splendid confusion before his
fancy, until the march commnenced. He now found that
war was made up of dreadful fatigue, constant exposure to all weather, hard words and hardler blows from
his superiors, and the whole crowned by the constant
gn:wings of hunger without the means of satisfying it.
  On the tenth day of their march (having been promoted to the rank of sergeant), he was detached upon
an exploring expedition, at the head of ten regular soldiers. Being all equally ignorant of Indian warfare,
they were quickly decoyed into an ambuscade and made
prisoners by a party of Kickapoo Indians. Having
been bound and secured in the usual manner, they were
driven before their captors like a herd of bullocks,
and, with scarcely a morsel of food, were forced to make
the most exhaustive marches in the direction of the
Kickapoo village. On the second day, George Aikins,
one of his companions, a native of Ireland, was unable
256
NORTH- WESTERN CAMPAIGN.
to endure his sufferings any longer, and sunk under his
pack in the middle of the path. They instantly scalped
him as he lay, and, stripping him naked, pricked him
with their knives in the most sensitive parts of the body
until they had aroused him to a consciousness of his sitnation, when they tortured him to death in the usual
manner.
  The march then recommenced, and the wretched
prisoners, faint and famished as they were, were so
shocked at the fate of their companion, that they bore
up bfor eight days under all their suffrings. On the
ninth, however, they reached a small villagte, where
crowds of both sexes came out to meet them, with
shrieks and yells which filled   them   with terror.
Here they were compelled, as usual, to run the
gauntlet, and as they were much worn down by hunger and thitigue, four of the pirtiy, viz: Durgee, Forsythe, Deloy, and B(nton, all of New England, were
unable to reach the council-house, but fainted in the
midst of the course. The boys and squaws instantly
fell upon them, and put them to dvath by torture.
  Here they remained in close confinement, and upon
very scanty diet, fobr several days, in the course of
which the news of Harmer's de eat arriv('d. Pihs of
scalps, together with cnteens, sashes, military hats,
etc., were brought into the village, and several white
women and children were taken through the town on
their way to the villages fitrther west. At the same
time, four more of his companions were led off to the
western villages, and never heard of afterwaird. Himself and a corporal, named Sackville, were now the
only survivors. They remained in close conlfinement
two weeks I)nger. Their rations were barely sufficient
to sustain life, and upon the receipt of any unpleasant
intelligence, they were taken out, whipped severely,
and compelled to run the gauntlet.
  At length, on the fourteenth night of their confinement, they det(rmined to make an effort to escape.
Sackville had concealed a sharp penknife in a secret
pocket, which the Indians had been unable to discover.
They were guarded by four warriors and one old hag
257
Xxii BIOGRAPII Y OF THE‘ A UTHOR.

Southern climate, he accepted the invitation. He preached to
that people for a few months, but, upon his return home to re-
move his family South, his health was again prostrated, and he
was compelled, in consequence, to relinquish the charge.

“During his ministry of nine years, he received invitations to
various other pulpits, among them that of the large Presbyterian
Church at New Orleans, to which Dr. Scott, of San Francisco, for
many years ministered, and of which Dr. Palmer, of South Caro-
lina, is now pastor.

“Upon leaving his beloved flock at Indianapolis, he removed,
with his family, to St. Paul, where his only son, J. VV. McClung,
Esq., had a short time previously located. During his residence
there of some twelve or fifteen months, the cold. dry, and bracing
air of the North so far restored his physical energies that he again
ventured to ‘preach, and supplied, occasionally, the pulpits of his
ministerial brethren in St. Paul.”

Another writer said of him: “With the zeal and almost with
the eloquence of one of the old apostles, he began his ministry.
In Louisville, no church could contain the crowds that flocked to
hear him, and so warm and devoted. were his admirers that they
wished to build him a church. To this he would not consent.
ln Uiiicinnati the same results followed.”

The able editor of 'The Presbyterian. of Philadelphia, in 1859,
thus speaks of him in the General Assembly:

“On the only occasion on which "‘1“Dr. McClung was ever a
member of the General Assembly, he made an impression by
a brief, but most telling speech, which can not be forgotten by
those who were present. It was on a subject which had already
occupied much time, of which the Assembly was heartily weary,
and in regard to which an hour had been fixed for taking the
vote. When the appointed hour came, Dr. l\IcClung, who was
personally unknown to most of the members, rose and asked to
be heard; but there was a manifest determination to listen to no
further discussion. He plead, for but ten minutes, which was at
length very reluctantly granted. He had no sooner begun his
speech than the attention of the Assembly was riveted; they
were evidently captivated by his remarkable combination of
logic, humor, eloquence, and courtesy. They saw that a new
star had arisen in our ecclesiastical firniament. VV hen his ten

*He had received the degree of Doctor of Divinity a short time previous
4.0 this. ' '

-a

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
of seventy, whose temper was as crooked as her person.
The prisoners having been securely bound, the warriors
lay down about midnight to sleep, ordering the old
squaw to sit up during the rest of the night. Their
guns stood in the corner of the hut, and their tomahawks, as usual, were attached to their sides. Their
hopes of escape were founded upon the probability of
eluding the vigilance of the hag, cutting their cords,
and either avoiding or destroying their guard. The
snoring of the warriors quickly announced them asleep,
and the old squaw hung in a drowsy attitude over the
fire. SAckville cautiously cut his own cords, and after
a f-w minutes delay, succeeded in performing the same
offi -e for Jackson.
  But their work was scarcely begun yet. It was absolutely necessary that the old squaw should fall asleep,
or be silenced in somne other way, before they could either
leave the hut, or attack the sleeping warriors. They
waited impitiently for half an hour, but perceiving
that, although occasionally dozing, she would rouse
herself at short intervals, and regard them suspiciously,
they exchanged looks of intelligence (being afraid even
to whisper), and prepared for the decisive effort.
Jackson suddenly sprang up as silently as possible, and
grasping the old woman by the throat, drew her head
back with violence, when Sackville, who had watched
his movements attentively, instantly cut her throat
from ear to ear. A short gurgling moan was the only
sound which escaped her, as the violence with which
Jackson grasped her throat effectually prevented her
speaking.
  The sleepers were not awakened, although they appeared somewhat disturbed at the noise; and the two
adventurers, seizing each a rifle, struck at the same
moment with such fury as to disable two of their
enemies. The other two instantly sprang to their feet,
but before they could draw their tomahawks, or give
the alarm, they were prostrated by the blows of the
white men, who attacked them at the moment that
they had gained their feet. Their enemies, although
stunned, were not yet dead. They drew their toma258
NORTH- WESTERN CAMPAIGN.
hawks from their sides, therefore, and striking each
Indian rep, atedly upon the head, completed the work
by piercing the heart of each with his own scalping
kniie.  Seiecting two rifles from the corner, together
with their usual appendages, and taking such provisions
as the hut afflrded, they left the village as rapidly
as possible, and ferventtly invoking the protection of
heaven, committed themselves to the wilderness.
  Neither of them   were good woodsmen, nor were
either of them  expert hunters.   They attempted a
southi-ea-tern course, however, as nearly as they could
a-certain it, but were much eumbaras-ed by the frequtent recurrence of impa:sable bogs, which compelled
them  to change their course, and greatly retarded
their progress.  Knowing that the pursuit would be
keen and persevering, they resorted to every method
of baffling their enemies.  They waded down many
streams, and occasionally surmounted rocky precipices,
which, under other circumstances, nothing could have
induced them to attempt. Their sufferings from hunger were excessive, as they were so indiffirenltly skilled
in hunting as to be unable to kill a sufficient quantity
of game, although the woods abounded with dcer,
beaver, and buffialo.
  On the fourth day, about ten o'clock, A. M., they
came to a fine spring, where they halted and determined to prepare their breakfCast. Before kindling a
fire, however, Sackville, either upon some vague
suspicion of the proximity of an enemy, or from some
other cause, thought proper to ascend an adjoining
hillock and reconnoiter the ground around the.-pring.
No measure was ever more providential.       Jackson
presently beheld him returning cautiously and silently
to the spring, and being satisfied from his manner that
danger was at hand, he held his rifle in readiness for
action at a moment's warning.     Sackville presently
rejoined him with a countenance in which anxiety and
resolution were strikingly blended.  Jackson eagerly
inquired the cause of his alarm. His companion, in a
low voice, replied that they were within one hundred
yards of four Indian warriors, who were reposing upon
259
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
the bank of the little rivulet on the other side of the
hillock; that they were about kindling a fire in order
to prepare their breakfast, and that two white men lay
bound hand and fbot within twenty feet of them.
  He added that they were evidently prisoners, exposed
to the same dreadful fate which they had just escaped;
and concluded by declaring that, if Jackson would
stand by him faithfully, he was determined to rescue
them or perish in the attempt. Jackson gave him his
hand and expressed his readiness to accompany him.
Sackville then looked carefully to the priming of his
gun, loosened his knife in the sheath, and desired Jackson to follow him, without making the slightest noise.
  They, accordingly, moved in a stooping posture up a
small and bushy ravine, which conducted them to the
top of the gentle hill. When near the summit, they
threw themselves flat upon the ground, and crawled
into a thick cluster of whortleberry bushes, from which
they had a fair view of the enemy. The Indians had
not changed their position, but one of the white men
was sitting up, and displayed the countenance of a
young man, apparently about twenty-five, pale, haggard,
and exhausted.    Two Indians, with uplifted tomahawks, sat within three feet of him. One lay at full
length upon the ground, while the remaining one was
in the act of lighting a fire.
  Sackville cocked his gun, and in a low voice directed
Jackson to fire at one of the guards, who, from the
quantity of beads and silver about his head, appeared
to be a chief, while he selected the other guard for a
mark.    Each presented at the same moment, took a
steady aim, and fired. Both Indians fell-the chief
shot dead, the other mortally wounded.     The other
two Indians squatted in the grass like terrified partridges when the hawk hovers over them, and lay still
and motionless. Sackville and Jackson reloaded their
guns as rapidly as possible, and shifted their position
a few paces in order to obtain a better view of the
enemy. In the meantime, the two Indians cautiously
elevated their heads above the grass, and glanced
rapidly around in order to observe from what quarter
260
NORT1r- WESTERN CAMIPAIGN.
the fatal shots were discharged. The thin wreaths of
smoke which curled above the bushes where our adventurers lay, betrayed their hiding-place to the enemy.
Before they could take advantage of it, however, they
were ready to fire again, and this second volley proved
fatal to one of their enemies, who lay without motion,
but the other was only slightly wounded, and endeavored to reach the bushes upon the opposite side of
the brook.
  Sackville and Jackson now sprang to their feet, and
rushed upon him, but the desperate savage shot Sackville through the heart, as he advanced, and flourished
his tomahawk so menacingly at Jackson, that he was
compelled to pause and reload his gun. The savage
seized this opportunity to grasp the two rifles belonging
to the Indians who had been first killed, and Jackson,
in consequence, was compelled to retreat to the friendly
shelter of the bushes, which he had too hastily abandoned. At this instant, the two prisoners, having burst
the cords which confined them, sprang to their feet and
ran toward the bushes for protection. Before they
could reach them, however, the Indian shot one dead,
and fired his last gun at the other, but without effect.
Jackson having loaded again, fired upon their desperate
enemy and wounded him in the neck, from which he
could see the blood spouting in a stream. Nothing
daunted, the Indian rapidly reloaded his gun and again
fired without effect.
  The prisoner who had escaped now seized Sackville's
gun, and he and Johonnet, having reloaded, once more
left the bushes and advanced upon their wounded
enemy. The savage, although much exhausted from
loss of blood, sat up at their approach, and, flourishing
a tomahawk in each hand, seemed at least determined
to die game. Johonnet was anxious to take him alive,
but was prevented by his companion, who, leveling his
gun as he advanced, shot his adversary through the
head, and thus put an end to the conflict. It was a
melancholy victory) to the survivors. Johonnet had lost
his gallant comrade, and the rescued white man had to
lament the death of his fellow captive. The last Indian
261
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
had certainly inflicted a heavy penalty upon his enemies, and died amply revenged. The rescued prisoner
pro~ved to be George Sexton, of Newport, Rhode Island,
a ptrivate in Harmer's army.
  Fortunately for Johonnet, his new comrade was an
excellent woodsman, and very readily informed his deliverer of their present situation, and of the proper
course to steer. He said, that in company with three
others, he had been taken by a party of Wabash Indians,
in the neighborhood of Fort Jefferson; that two of his
comrades, having sunk under their sufferings, had been
tomahawke(l and scalped upon the spot; that himself
and his (lead companion had been in hourly expectation
of a similar fate; and concluded with the warmest expre,sions of gratitude for the gallantry with which he
hail been reicuete, So lively, indeed, was his sense of
obligation, that he would not permit Jackson to carry
his own baggage, nor would he suffer him to watch more
than three hours in the twenty-four. On the following
day they fortunately lfell in with a small detachment
fromn Fort Jefferson, by which they were safely conducted to the tort, Here Jackson remained until summoned to attend St. Clair in his disastrous expedition
against the same Miami villages, where he had lately
suffered so much.
262
               ARTHUR ST. cLAIR.                263
               CHAPTER XIII.
WE now come to one of the heaviest disasters which
     occurs in the annals of Indian warfare. The failure of Harmer made a deep impression upon the Anierican nation, and was followed by a loud demand fbr a
greater force, under the command of a more experienced
general.  General AR'TPHUR ST. CLAIR was, at that
time, Governor of the North-western Territory. and had
a claim to the command of such forces as should be
employed within his own limits. This gentleman had
unifobrmly ranked high as an officer of courage and
patriotism, but had bc'en more uniformly unfortunate
than any other officer in the American service. He had
commanded at Ticonderoga, in the spring of 1777, and
had conducted one of the mi,st disastrous retreats which
occurred during the Revolutionary War. Notwithstanding his repeated misfortunes, he still commandtd the
respect of his brother officers, and the undiminished
confidence of Washington. He was now selected as the
person most capable of restoring the American affairs
in the North-west, and was placed at the head of a
regular force, amounting to near fifteen hundred men,
well furnished with artillery, and was empowered to
call out such reinforcements of miilitia as might be
necessary. Cincinnati, as usual, was the place of
rendezvous.
  In October, 1791, an army was assembled at that
place, greatly superior, in numbers, officers, and equipments, to any which had yet appeared in the west. The
regular force was composed of three complete regiments
of infantry, two companies of artillery, and one of
cavalry. The militia, who joined himi at Fort Washington, amounted to upwards of six hundred men, most of
         24
4WESTERN ADVENTURE.
whom had long been accustomed to Indian warfare. The
general commenced his march, from Cincinnati, on the
- of October, and, fbilowing the route of Harmer,
arrived at Fort Jefferson without material loss, although
not without having sustained much iniconvenience from
scarcity of provisions. The Kentucky Rangers, amounting to upIwards of two hundred men, had encountered
several small parties of Indians, but no serious affair
had as yet taken place.  Shortly after leaving Fort
Jefferson, one of the militia regiments, with their usual
disreg:ird to di;cipline, determined that it was inexpedient to proceed farther, and, detaching themselves
from the main body, returned rapidly to the fort, on
their way home.   This ill-timed mutiny not only discouraged the remainder, but compelled the general to
detach the firs.t regiment in pursuit of them, if not to
bring them back, at least to prevent them from iijuring the stores collected at the fiort for the use of the
army. With the remainder of the troops, amounting
in all to about twelve hundred men, he continued his
march to the great Miami villages.
  On the evening of the third of November he encamped upon a very commanding piece of ground, upon the bank of one of the tributaries of the Wabash,
where he determined to throw up some slight works,
for the purpose of protecting their knapsacks and baggage, having to move upon the Miami villages, supposed to be within twelve miles, as soon as the first
regiment should rejoin them. The remainder of the
evening was employeil in concerting the plan of the
proposed work with Major Ferguson of the engineers;
and when the sentries were posted at night, every thing
was as quiet as could have been desired. The troops
were encamped in two lines, with an interval of seventy
yards between them, which was all that the nature of
the ground would permit. The battalious of Majors
Butler, Clarke, and Patterson composed the front line,
the whole under the orders of Major-General Butler,
an officer of high and merited reputation. The front
of the line was covered by a creek, its right flank by
the river, and its left by a strong corps of infantry.
264
AR,TITURn ST. CLAIR.
The second line was composed of the battalions of
Majors Gaither and Bedinger, and the second regiment
under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Darke.
This line, like the other, was secured upon one flank by
the river, and upon the other by the cavalry and
pickets.* The night passed away without alarm. The
sentinels were vigilant,- and the officers upon the alert.
  A few hours before day, St. Clair caused the reveille
to be beaten, and the troops to be paraded under arms,
under the expectation that an attack would probably be
made. In this situation they continued until daylight,
when they were dismissed to their tents. Sonme were
endeavoring to snatch a few minutes' sleep, others were
preparing for the expected march, when suddenly the
report of a rifle was heard from    the militia, a few
hundred yards in front, which was quickly followed by
a sharp, irregular volley in the same direction. The
drums instantly beat to arms, the officers flew in every
direction, and in two minutes the troops were formed in
order of battle. Presently the militia rushed into camp,
in the utmost disorder, closely pursued by swarms of
Indians, who, in many places, were mingled with them,
and were cutting theim down with their tomahawks.
  Major Butler's battalion received the first shock, and
was thrown into disorder by the tumultuous flight of
the militia, who in their eagerness to escape, bore down
every thing before them. Here Major-General Butler
had stationed himself, and here St. Clair directed his
attention in order to remedy the confusion which began
to spread rapidly through the whole line. The Indians
pressed forward with great audacity, and many of them
  *The militia, amounting to about two hundred and fifty men,
were thrown across the creek, about three hundred yards in front
of the first line, and a small detachment of regulars, under the
orders of Captain Slough, were pushed still farther in advance,
in order to prevent the possibility of surprise.
  f Captain Slough was alarmed, in the course of the night, by
the appearance of an unusual number of the enemy in his front
and upon both flanks. A short time before day, they had collected in such numbers as seriously to alarm him, and induced
him to fall back upon the militia. He instantly informed General Butler of the circumstance, but that officer, unfortunately,
slighted the intelligence, and did not deem it of sufficient importance to inform the commander-in-chief.
265
WESTERN AD VENTUR E.
Swere mingled with the troops before their progress could
be checked. Major-General Butler was wounded at
the first fire, and bebore his wound could be dressed,
an Indian, who had penetrated the ranks of the regiment, ran up to the spot where he lay and tomahawked
him before his attendants could interpose. The desperate savage was instantly killed. By great exertions,
Bltle,r's b ittdi,on was restored to order, and the heavy
and sustainei fire of the first line compelled the enemy
to pause and shelter themselves.
   This interval, however, endured but for a moment.
 An invisiWle but tremendous fire quickly opened upon
 the whole front of the encampment, which rapidly ex tended to the rear, and encompassed the troops on both
 sides. St. Clair, who at that time was worn down by a
 fever, an I unable to riount his horse, nevertheless, as
 is universally admitted, exerted himself with a courage
 and pre:ence of mind worthy of a better fate. He in stantly directed his litter to the right of the rear line,
 where the great weight of fire fell, and where the slaugh ter, particularly of the officers, was terrible. Here
 D.arke co,mmlnded, an offiler who had been trained to
 hard service during the Revolutionary War, and who
 was novx gtllantly exerting himself to check the conster nation which was evidently beginning to prevail. St.
 Clair ordered him to make a rapid charge with the bay onAt, and rouse the enemy from their covert.
   The order was instantly obeyed, and, at first, appar ently with great effect. Swarms of dusky bodies arose
 from the high grass and fled before the regiment, with
 every mark of consternation; but as the troops were
 unable to overtake them, they quickly recovered their
 courage, and kept up so fatal a retreating fire that the
 exhausted regulars were compelled in their turn to give
 way. This charge, however, relieved that particular
 point for some time; but the weight of the fire was trans ferred to the center of the first line, where it threatened
 to annihilate every thing within its range. There, in
 turn, the unfortunate general was borne by his attend ants, and ordered a second appeal to the bayonet. This
 second charge was made with the same impetuosity as
266
ARTHUIR ST. CLAIR.
at first, and with the same momentary success. But
the attack was instantly shifted to another point, where
the same charge was made and the same result followed.
The Indians would retire before them, still keeping up
a most fatal fire, and the continentals were uniformly
oompelled to retire in turn. St. Clair brought up the
artillery, in order to sweep the bushes with grape; but
the horses and artillerymen were destroyed by the terrible fire of the enemy before any effcct could be produced. They were instantly manned afresh from the
infantry, and again swept of defenders.
  The slaughter had now become prodigious.     Fourfifths of the officers and one-half of the men were either
killed or wounded. The ground was covered with bodies,
and the little ravine which led to the river was running
with blood. The fire of the enemy had not in the least
slackened, and the troops were falling in heaps before it
in every part of the camp. To have attempted to have
maintained his position longer could only have led to
the total destructii,n of his force, without the possibility
of annoying the encmy, who never showed themselves
unless when charged, and whose numbers (to judge from
the weight and extent of the, fire) must have greatly exceeded his own. The men were evidently much disheartened; but the officers, who were chiefly veterans
of the Revolution, still maintained a firm countenance,
and exerted themselves with unavailing heroism to the
last. Under these circumstances, St. Clair determined
to save the lives of the survivors if possible, and for
that purpose collected the remnants of several battalions
into one corps, at the head of which he ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Darke to make an impetuous charge upon the enemy, in order to open a passage for the remainder of the army. Darke executed his orders with great
spirit, and drove the Indians before him to the distance
of a quarter of a mile. The remainder of the army
instantly rushed through the opening in order to gain
the road, Major Clarke, with the remnant of his battalion, bringing up the rear, and endeavoring to keep
the Indians in check.
  The retreat soon degenerated into a total rout. Offi267
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A I/‘THOR. xxiii

minutes expired, he was about to yield the floor, but the Mod-
erator told him to go on, that the Assembly was evidently very
much pleased to hear him. When he concluded, the vote was
taken on his proposition, and carried by a vast majority, «al-
though the decision was thought by many to be in direct col-
lision with a previous action on the same subject. This was the
first and last time that eloquent voice was heard in the General
Assembly. Like a brilliant meteor, he shot athwart the skies,
and then appeared no more.”

Dr. Robert J. Breckinridge, in alluding to this effort, said he
had never witnessed such an effect, in so short a time, upon such
a body of men, in all his experience. The grave members were
spell-bound during its delivery, and so fascinated by his down-
right sincerity and earnestness, his unusual powers of argument
and oratory, and the sparkling playfulness of his wit, that he
believed they were ready, when he concluded, to do any thing
he wished them to do. They certainly reversed their previous
action; and the Doctor thought they did wrong.

In the spring of 1857, the Maysville pulpit having become
vacant, and it being understood that his health had improved,
the desire that Mr. McClung should be called became very
strong. A private letter was addressed to him by a friend, to
which, on the 1st of April, 1857, he replied: “I have no hesita-
tion in saying, that it would give me pleasure to return to my
oldhaunts and mingle in friendly intercourse with my‘ old
friends. I have long been severed from my native State, and
although much of my time has been pleasantly spent, among
warm and attached friends. yet every thing around is foreign to
my early habits of thought and association, and I would will-
ingly return should Provi. ,e open the way. If the Mays-
ville Church should heartily” nd without dissension call me, I will
certainly accept the call, if I live and enjoy my present ability
to labor.”

He was unanimously called, and on the first Sabbath in June
undertook his charge and preached his first sermon. Once more
he was with a people who had known him from his birth,
watched with pride the bright dawn of his opening powers, sus-
tained and sympathized with him in his labors and trials, and
witnessed with exultant joy the triumphs of his manhood. He
had come now to renew the associations and friendships, and
warm once more into life the memories of other times; to min-

J ister to the spiritual interests of this beloved people, and, in their

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
cers who strove to arrest the panic only sacrificed themselves. Clarke, the leader of the rear-guard, soon fell
in this dangerous service, and his corps were totally
disorganized. Officers and soldiers were now mingled
without the slightest regard to discipline, and "devil
take the hindmost" was the order of the day. The pursuit at first was keen; but the temptation afforded by
the plunder of the camp soon brought them back, and
the wearied, wounded, and disheartened filgitives were
permitted to retire from the field unmolested. The rout
continued as far as Fort Jefferson, twenty-nine miles
from the scene of action. The action lasted more than
three hours, durilng the whole of which time the fire
was heavy and incessant.
  The loss, in proportion to the number engaged, was
enormous, and is unparalleled, except in the affair of
Braddock. Sixty-eight officers were killed upon the
spot, and twenty eight wounded. Out of nine hundred
privates who went into the action, five hundred and
fifty were left dead upon the field, and many of the
survivors were wounded. General St. Clair was untouched, although eight balls passed through his hat
and clothes, and several horses were killed under him.*
  The Indian loss was reporte I by themselves at fiftyeight killed and wounded, which was probably not underrated, as they were never visible after the first attack until charged with the bayonet. At Fort Jefferson, the fugitives were joined by the first regiment,
who, as noticed above, had been detached in pursuit
of the deserters. Here a council of war was called,
which terminated in -the unanimous opinion that the
junction with the first regiment did not justify an attempt upon the enemy in the present condition of affairs,
and that the army should return to Fort Washington
without delay. This was accordingly done; and thus
closed the second campaign against the Indians.
  The unfortunate general was, as usual, assailed from
  "* General St. Clair's horses were killed, as well as those of his
aids. He was placed by a few friends upon an exhausted packhorse that could not be pricked out of a walk, and in this condition followed in the rear of the troops.
268
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR.
one end of the country to the other-but particularly
in Kentucky-with onle loud and mercilhss outcry of
abuse, and even detestation. All the misfortunes of
his life (and they were many and bitter) were brought
up in array against him. He was reproached with
cowardice, treason, imbecility, and a disposition to prolong the war in order to preserve that authority which
it gave him. He was charged with sacrificing the lives
of his men and the interests of his country to his own
private ambition. Men who had never fired a rifle, and
never beheld an Indian, criticised severely the plan of
his encampment and the order of his battle; and in
short all the bitter ingredients which compose the cup
of the unsuccessfidul general were drained to the dregs.
  It seems to be a universal, and, probably, a correct
rule that, as the general reaps all the glory of success,
so, in like manner, he should sustain all the disgrace
of defeat. A victorious general, whether by a lucky
blunder or other%wise, is distinguished for life, and an
unfortunate one is degraded. No charge in the one
case, or excuse in the other, is listened to for a moment.
Victory hides every blemish, and misfortune obscures
every virtue. This is the popular rule for estimating
the merits of a leader,'Which, for a time, might elevate
a noisy Cleon to the level of an Alexander. But the
historian decides otherwise. Let us look at the unfortunate St. Clair's conduct, and see if it deserves the
furious and unbounded censure which has been heaped
upon it. It is acknowledged that, although attacked
suddenly (all Indian attacks are sudden), he was not
surprised; his troops were encamped in order of battle,
and formed in a moment.
  He can not be charged with remissness, for he had
arrayed them in order of battle three hours before daylight, and they had just been dismissed when the attack
commenced. He can not be charged with incompetency during the action, for all his measures, if allowance be made for the circumstances attending it, were
bold, judicious, and military.* He did not suffer his
"* See Appendix.
269
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
men to be shot down in their ranks, as in Braddock's
case, but made repeated, desperate, and successful
charges against the enemy, which nothing but their
overwhelming superiority of numbers prevented from
being decisive. The troops, in general, behaved with
firmness, the officers were the flower of the old Continental army, and not a man deserted his colors until
the order was given to retreat.
  The charge of cowardice is unworthy of an answer.
It could only be brought by a blind and ignorant populace, stung with rage, as they ever are, at detfeat, and
pouring upon their unhappy victim     every reproach
which rage, ignorance, and the malice of interested
demi-gogues may suggest. It may be observed, that St.
Clair always stood high in the opinion of Washinigton,
notwithstanding his repeated misfortunes, and that in
his last battle, although worn down by a cruel disease,
he exposed his person in every part of the action, delivered his orders with coolness and judgment, and was
one of the last who arrived at Fort Jefferson in the retreat. His whole life, afterward, was one long and wasting struggle with poverty, reproach, and mistbortune.
   When demanding a comnpeniation to which he considered himself entitled, before the Congress of the
United States, a demand to which he had been compelled by the stern pressure of want, old azre, and decrepitude, he was stigmatized by a member of that body
as a "pauper! " and his claim rejected-rejected on
that same floor where a princely present was bestowed
on Lafayette, for services of the same kind which were
refused to be acknowledged in the case of the unhappy
and really indigent S.t. Clair! In the one case, their
generosity would resound through the world, and
gratify national pride. In the other, it would only
have been an act of obscure justice. The official letter
of St. Clair, at once temperate, mournful, and dignified,
is subjoined in the appendix.
  It remains only to mention such private incidents as
we have been enabled to collect, The late WILLIAM
270
WILLI4M3 I1KENNA..
KENNAN, of Fleming County, at that time a young
man of eighteen, was attached to the corps of rangers
who accompanied the regular force. He had long been
remarkable for strength and activity. In the course
of the march from Fort Washington, he had repeated
opportunities of testing his astonishing powers in that
respect, and was universally admitted to be the swiftest
runner of the light corps. On the evening preceding
the action, his corps had been advanced, as already observed, a few hundred yards in front of the first line of
infantry, in order to give seasonable notice of the enemy's approach. Just as day was dawning, he observed
about thirty Indians within one hundred yards of the
guard fire, advancing cautiously toward the spot where
he stood, together with about twenty rangers, the rest
being considerably in the rear.
  Sup)posing it to be a mere scouting party, as usual,
and not superior in number to the rangers, he sprang
forward a few paces in order to shelter himself in a spot
of peculiarly rank grass, and firing with a quick aim
upon the foremost Indian, he instantly fell flat upon
his face, and proceeded with all possible rapidity to reload his gun, not doubting for a moment but that the
rangers would maintain their position and support him.
The Indians, however, rushed forward in such overwhelming masses, that the rangers were compelled to
fly with precipitation, leaving young Kennan in total
ignorance of his danger. Fortunately, the captain of
his company had observed him when he threw himself
in the grass, and suddenly shouted aloud, "Run, Kennan! or you are a dead man!"   He instantly sprang to
his feet, and beheld Indians within ten feet of him,
while his company was already more than one hundred
yards in front.
  Not a moment was to be lost. He darted off with
every muscle strained to its utmost, and was pursued
by a dozen of the enemy with loud yells. He at first
pressed straight forward to the usual fording place in
the creek which ran between the rangers and the main
army, but several Indians who had passed him before
he arose from the grass, threw themselves in the way,
         25
271
WESTERN AD YENTURE.
and completely cut him off from the rest. By the most
powerful exertions he had thrown the whole body of
pursuers behind him, with the exception of one young
chief (probably Messhawa), who displayed a swiftness
and perseverance equal to his own. In the circuit which
Kennan was obliged to take, the race continued for more
than four hundred yards. The distance between them
was about eighteen feet, which Kennan could not in'crease nor his adversary diminish. Each, for the time,
put his whole soul in the race.
  Kennan, as far as he was able, kept his eye upon the
motions of his pursuer, leAt he should throw the tomahawk, which he held aloft in a menacing attitude, and
at length, finding that no other Indian was im.nediately
at hand, he determined to try the mettle of his pursuer
in a different manner, and felt for his tomahawk in order
to turn at bay. It had escaped from its sheath, however, while he lay in the grass, and his hair had almost
lifted the cap from his head, when he saw himself totally disarmed. As he had slackened his pace for a
moment, the Indian was almost within reach of him when
he recommenced the race, but the idea of being without
arms lent wings to his flight, and for the first time he
saw himself gaining ground. He had watched the motions of his pursuer too closely, however, to pay proper
attention to the nattre of the ground before him, and
he suddenly found himself in front of a large tree which
had been blown down, and upon which brush and other
impediments lay to the height of eight or nine feet.
  The Indian (who, heretofore, had not uttered the
slightest sound) now gave a short quick yell, as if secure of his victim. Kennan had not a moment to deliberate. He must clear the impediment at a leap or
perish.  Putting his whole soul into the eff,rt, he
bounded into the air with a power which astonished
himself, and clearing limbs, brush, and every thing else,
alighted in perfect safety upon the other side. A loud
yell of astonishment burst from the band of pursuers,
not one of whom had the hardihood to attempt the
same feat. Kennan, as may be readily imagined, had
no leisure to enjoy his triumph, but dashing into the
272
WILLIAM KENNAN.
bed of the creek (upon the banks of which his feat had.
been performed) where the high banks would shield him
from the fire of the enemy, he ran up the stream until
a convenient place offered for crossiig, and rejoined the
rangers in the rear of the encampment, panting from
the iatigue of exertions which have seldom been surpassed.  No breathing time was allowed him, however. The attack instantly commenced, and as we have
already observed, was maintained for three hours with
unabated fury.
  When the retreat commenced Kennan was attached
to Majnor Clarke's battalion, and had the dangerous service of protecting the rear. This corps quickly lost its
commander, and was completely disorganized. Kennan
was among the hindmost when the flight commenced,
but exerting those same powers which had saved him in
the morning, he quickly gained the front, passing several horsemen in the flight. Here he beheld a private
in his own company, an intimate acquaintance, lying
upon the ground, with his thigh broken, and in tones
of the most piercing distress, implored each horseman
who hurried by to take him up behind him. As soon
as he beheld Kennan coming up on foot, he stretched
out his arms, and called loud upon him to save him.
Notwithstanding the imminent peril of the moment, his
friend could not, reject so passionate an appeal, but seizing him in his arms, he placed him upon his back, and
ran in that manner for several hundred yards. Horseman after horseman passed them, all of whom refused
to relieve him of his burden.
  At length the enemy was gaining upon him so fast
that Kennan saw their death certain, unless he relinquished his burden. He accordingly told his friend
that he had used every possible exertion to save his life,
but in vain; that he must relax his hold around his
neck, or they would both perish. The unhappy wretch,
heedless of every remonstrance, still clung convulsively
to his back, and impeded his exertions until the foremost of the enemy (armed with tomahawks alone) were
within twenty yards of them. Kennan then drew his
knife from its sheath and cut the fingers of his com273
"WESTERN AD VENTURE.
panion, thus compelling him to relinquish his hold.
The unhappy man rolled upon the ground in utter helplessness, and Kennan beheld him tomahawked before he
had gone thirty yards. Relieved from his burden he
darted fo)ward with an activity which once more brought
him to the van. Here again he was compelled to neglect his own safety in order to attend to that of others.
  The late Governor Madison, of Kentucky, who afterward commanded the corps which defended themselves
so honorably at Raisin, a man who united the most
amiable temper to the most unconquerable courage, was
at that time a subaltern in St. Clair's army, and being
a man of infirm constitution, was totally exhausted by
the exertions of the morning, and was now sitting down
calmly upon a log, awaiting the approach of his enemies. Kennan hastily accosted him, and inquired the
cause of his delay. Madison, pointing to a wound
which had bled profusely, replied that he was unable to
walk further, and had no horse. Kennan instantly ran
back to a spot where he had seen an exhausted horse
grazing, caught him without difficulty, and having assisted Madison to mount, walked by his side until they
were out of danger. Fortunately, the pursuit soon
ceased, as the plunder of the camp! presented irresistible
attractions to the enemy. The friendship thus formed
between these two young men, endured without interruption through life. Mr. Kennan never entirely recovered from the immense exertions which he was compelled to make during this unfortunate expedition. He
settled in Fleming County, and continued for many
years a leading member of the Baptist Church. He
died in 1827.
  A party of Chickasaws were on their march to join
St. Clair, but did not arrive in time to share in the
action. One warrior of that nation alone was present,
and displayed the most admirable address and activity.
He positi vely refused to stand in the ranks with the soldiers, declaring that the "Shawnees would shoot him
down like a wild pigeon," but took refuge behind a log
274
CAPTAIN KIRKWOOD.
a few yards in front of Butler's battalion, and discharged his rifle eleven times at the enemy with unerring accuracy. He could not be persuaded, however,
to forego the pleasure of scalping each Indian as he fell,
and in perfbrming this agreeable office, he at length was
shot down by the enemy, and scalped in turn.
  The leader of the Indian army in this bloody engage--
ment, was a chief of the Missassago tribe, known by
the name of the " LITTLE TURTLE."   Notwithstanding
his name, he was at least six feet high, strong, muscular,
and remarkably dignified in his appearance. He was
forty years of age, had seen much service, and had accompanied Burgoyne in his disastrous invasion. His
aspect was harsh, sour, and forbidding, and his person
during the action was arrayed in the very extremity of
Indian foppery, having at least twenty dollars worth of
silver depending from his inose and ears. The plan of
attack was conceived by him alone, in opposition to the
opinion of almost every other chief. Notwithstanding
his ability, however, he was said to have been unpopular among the Indians, probably in consequence of
those very abilities.
  Many veteran officers of inferior rank, who had
served with distinction throughout the Revolutionary
War, were destined to perish in this unhappy action.
Among them was the gallant and unrewarded Captain
KIRKWOOD, of the old Delaware line, so often and so
honorably mentioned in Lee's Memoirs. The State of
Delaware having had but one regiment on Continental
establishment, and that regiment having been reduced
to a company at Camden, it was impossible for Kirkwood to be promoted without a violation of the ordinary
rules by which commissions were regulated. He, accordingly, had the mortification of beholding junior
officers daily mounting above him in the scale of rank,
while he himself, however meritorious, was compelled
to remain in his present condition, on account of the
275
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
small force which his native state could bring into the
field.
  Notwithstanding this constant source of mortification,
he fought with distinguished gallantry throughout the
war, and was personally engaged in the battles of Camden, Guilford, Hobkirks, Ninety-six, and Eutaw, the
hottest and bloodiest which occurred during the Revolution. At the peace of 1783, he returned with a
broken fortune, but a high reputation for courage, honor,
and probity, and upon the re-appearance of war in the
North-west, he hastened once more to the scene of action,
and submitted, without reluctance, to the command of
officers who had been boys while he was fighting those
severe battles in the South. He fell in a brave attempt
to repel the enemy with the bayonet, and thus closed a
career as honorable as it was unrewarded.
  Lieutenant Colonel DARKE'S escape was almost miraculous. Possessed of a tall, striking figure, in fill
uniform, and superbly mounted, he headed three desperate charges amainst the enemy, in each of which he
was a conspicuous mark. His clothes were cut in many
places, but he escaped with only a slight flesh wound.
In the last charge, Ensign Wilson, a youth of seventeen, was shot through the heart, and fell a few paces
in the rear of the regiment, which was then rather rapidly returning to its original position. An Indian,
attracted by his rich uniform, sprang up from the grass,
and rushed forward to scalp him. Darke, who was at
that time in the rear of his regiment, suddenly faced
about, dasheil at the Indian on horseback, and cleft his
skull with his broad-sword, drawing upon himself by
the act a rapid discharge of more than a dozen rifles.
He rejoined his regiment, however, in safety, being compelled to leave the body of.young Wilson to the
enemy. On the evening of the eighth of November,
the broken remains of the army arrived at Fort Washington, and were placed in winter-quarters.
ANTHONY WA YNE.
              CHAPTER XIV.
AMIDST the almost universal clamor which arose
    upon the defeat of the unfortunate St. Clair, General Waslington himself did not entirely escape censure. The appointment of an old, infirm, and above
nil, an unlucky genleral to a command which, above all
other qualities, required activity, promptitude, and the
power of sustaining great fatigue, was reprobated in no
measured terms. Public opinion imperiously demanded a better selection obr the third offensive campaign,
and St. Clair was necessarily superseded. The choice
of a proper successor became the theme of general discussion, and was a matter of no small difficulty. The
command was eagerly sought by many officers of the
Revolution, among whom the most prominent were
General WAYNE, of Pennsylvania, and the late General
Henry Lee, of Virginia, the celebrated commandant of
the Partisan Legion during the war of Independence.
  The peculiar fitness of Lee for a command of that
kind, seems to have impressed itself strongly upon the
mind of Washington, and there is a letter extant which
shows that nothing but the discontent which the appointment of so young an officer would naturally have excited in the minds of those who had held a rank above
him in the former war, could have prevented his being
the succezsor of St. Clair. This objection did not apply to Wayne, and as he had repeatedly proved himself
a bold, active, and energetic commander, his appointment was unacceptable to those only whose claims had
been rejected-a description of men very difficult to be
pleased. Wayne had entered the army as colonel of a
regiment in the Pennsylvania line, and first attracted
notice in the Canadian expedition. He there displayed
277
xxiv BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR.

midst, to offer up his last testimonies to the truth. Never did
the simplicity and purity of his life appear so conspicuous and
attractive. He sought, at once, to know personally every mem-
ber of his congregation, to perform in all fidelity the double
duty of preacher and pastor, and to watch over his whole flock
as a loving shepherd.

Those who had known him before only in his public life, and «

been accustomed to regard his habits as exclusive and retiring,
were surprised and touched to see the great student and thinker
throw off his seclusion, and surrender himself with genuine
enjoyment to the little incidents, the delicate duties and sweet
amenities of pastoral, social, every-day life. But the fountain
of genial companionship, of kindness and tenderness, was in
his heart; and they who knew his inner life were not surprised.
See what a charming picture his daughter has drawn of her
father’s home—habits:

“He was always domestic in his tastes, and from my earliest
recollection did much of his ofi“1ce—work at home, frequently re-
ceiving his clients in the family sitting-room, where he also
elected to do his reading and writing, apparently undisturbed by
the constant ebb and flow of a large and busy household. We
used to play under the very table where he sat at work, taking
his books of reference to build doll-houses. But he was gener-
ally oblivious of the giggling and whispering which accompanied
our quietest amusements, and only noticed our presence to be-
stow an occasional caress, or a little ‘baby-talk,’ of which he
possessed an endless and charming variety. Even when we were
no longer children, he often used the old fondling phrases, and
called us by our pet names. Sometimes, at dusk, he would throw
aside book and pen, and challen us to a game of romps; in
summer would run races on t ‘ ss',; or, tying us securely in
the swing with a large silk handkerchief, would toss us into the
branches of the old willow.

“But though always tender and indulgent, and often conde-
scending to become our play—fellow, he had a certain dignity and
reserve w_hich che-cked familiarity, unless invited by himself.
We stood in wholesome awe of his displeasure, and though he
never punished us in any way, children and servants obeyed his
lightest word.

“My father was very familiar with the poets, and many a
snatch from Scott, Byron, Burns, and Moore, I knew by heart,
long before I read them, from hearing him repeat them as he

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
so keen a relish for battle upon all occasions, and upon
any terms, exposed his own life as well as those of his
men with such recklessness, and was in the habit of
swearing so hard in the heat of battle, that he soon obtained among the common soldiers the nickname of
"Mad Anthony."
  He never enjoyed a high reputation as an officer of
prudence, science, and combination, andt on one occasion
particularly was surprised by the celebrated English
partisan, Grey, and routed with a slaughter scarcely inferi)r to that of St. Clair. As an executive officer, however, he was incomparable. He seemed to be of opinion
that the whole science of war consisted in giving and
taking hard blows; and we have heard, from one who
served under him many years, that his favorite word of
command was, "Charge the d--d rascals with the bayonet!" Whenever (as at St6ny Point) a bold, brisk onset was all that was required, no better general than
Wayne could possibly be selected, but on other occasions
his keen appetite for action was apt to hurry him into an
imprudent exposure of his troops.
  In Virginia he once narrowly escaped total destruction
by pressing too eagerly upon Lord Cornwallis, who afterward repeatedly affirmed that one-half hour more of
daylight would have sufficed for the destruction of his
rash but gallant enemy; and afterward, in the Carolinas, his quarters were broken up, and his whole camp
thrown into confusion, by a small party of Creek Indians, who fell upon him as unexpectedly as if they had
risen from the earth. Several severe losses, however,
which he received in the course of his career, had taught
him to temper his courage with a moderate degree of
caution, and as he was remarkably popular among the
common soldiers (who are better judges of the ordinary
quality of courage than the higher military talents) he
was supposed to be peculiarly qualified for re-animating
the cowering spirits of the troops.
  There was an interval of more than a year between
the defeat of St. Clair and the appointment of his successor. Wayne lost no time in proceeding to the headquarters of the western army, and arrived at Fort Wash278
ANTHONY WA YNE.
ington in the spring of 1793. Reinforcements of regular troops were constantly arriving, and, in addition to
the usual complement of cavalry and artillery, a strong
legionary corps was raised upon continental establishment, and placed under his command. In addition to
this, he was authorized to call upon the Governor of
Kentucky (Shelby) for as many mounted militia as
might be necessary. It was so late in the season, however, before all the various forces could be collected, and
all the necessary supplies procured, that he judged it
prudent to defer any offensive movement until the spring.
  The mounted volunteers were accordingly dismissed
with some flattering encomiums upon their zeal and
readiness, while the regular forces were placed in winterquarters. The volunteers returned to Kentucky with a
high idea of the efficiency, of the regular force under
Wayne, and sanguine expectations of a favorable result.
The rapid succession of disasters which had heretofore
attended the operations of regulars in conjunction with
militia, had created a strong disgust to that species of
force, and it was with difficulty that a sufficient number
of mounted men could be procured for co-operation.
But, after witnessing the order, diligence, and energy
which characterized Wayne's conduct as an officer, and
the indefatigable labor with which he drilled his troops
into a ready performance of the necessary movements,
this disrelish to a co-operation with regulars completely
vanished, and on the following spring the volunteers
proffered their services with great alacrity.
  During the winter Wayne remained at a fort which
he had built upon a western fork of the Little Miami,
and to which he had given the name of Greenville. By
detachments from the regular troops he was enabled to
sweep the country lying between him and the Miami villages, and having taken possession of the ground upon
which St. Clair was defeated, he erected a small fort
upon it, to which he gave the name of Recovery. His
orders were positive to endeavor, if possible, to procure
peace uplon reasonable terms without resorting to force,
and he accordingly opened several conferences with the
hostile tribes during the winter.
279
"WESTERY AD VENTURE.
  Many of their chiefs visited him in his camp, and examined his troops, artillery, and equipments with great
attention, and from time to time made ample professions
of a disposition to bury the hatchet; but nothing definite could be drawn from them, and from the known
partiality of Wayne to the decision of the sword, could
it be supposed that he pressed the overtures with much
eagerness? As the spring approached, the visits of the
Indians became more rare, and their professions of
friendship waxed fainter. In February they threw
aside the mask at once, and made a bold effort to carry
the distant outpost at Fort Recovery by a coup-de-main.
In this, however, they were frustrated by the vigilance
and energy of the garrison; and, finding that Wayne
was neither to be surprised nor deceived, they employed
themselves in collecting their utmost strength, with a
determination to abide the brunt of battle.
  In the spring the general called upon the Governor
of Kentucky for a detachment of mounted men, who
repaired with great alacrity to his standard in two brigades, under Todd and Barbee, the whole commanded by
Major-General Scott, amounting to more than fifteen
hundred men accustomed to Indian warfaire. The regular force, including cavalry and artillery, amounted to
about two thousand, so that the general found himself
at the head of three thousand men, well provided with
every thing, in high spirits, and eager for battle. The
Indian force did not exceed two thousand, and was known
to have assembled in the neighborhood of the British
fort at the rapids of the Miami.
  It was late in July before Wayne was ready to march
from Greenville, and, from the nature of the country as
well as the necessity of guarding against surprise, his
progress was very leisurely. On the nineteenth of August, when within a day's march of the enemy's position,
he determined to send a messenger, charged with the
last offer of peace and friendship which he intended to
make. For this dangerous and apparently useless office,
he selected a private volunteer namned Miller, who had
formerly been taken by the Indians, and lived for many
years upon the banks of the Miami. Miller, however,
280
ANTHONY WA YNE.
appeared to value his own neck much more highly than
the general did, as he stoutly remonstrated against the
duty, declaring that it would be useless to the army as
well as destructive to himnelf.
  He declared confidently that the Indians, from many
undoubted signs, were resolutely bent upon battle, and
would listen to nothing of which he might be the hearer.
He added that he knew them of old, and was satisfied
that they would roast him alive, without an instant's
hesitation, in d(fiance of his white flag and sacred character of embazsador. Wayne, however, was not to be
diverted from his purpose. He assured Miller that he
would hold eight or ten Indians, then in his camp, as
hostages for his safe return, and, if the enemy roasted
him, he swore that a noble hecatonmb should be offered
to his manes, as he would compel all his prisoners to undergo the same fate; but concluded with an assurance
that the Indians, when informed of his determination,
would dismiss him in perfect safety, for a regard to the
lives of their friends.
  Reluctantly, and with many dark prophecies of the
fate which aw\aited him, he at length consented to go
upon the mission, and, having taken leave of his friends,
he set off at a rapid pace for the Indian camp. When
within view of it, he hoisted a white flag upon a pole,
and marched b)oldly forward, knowing that in this, as
in most other cases, the boldest is the safest course. As
soon as they beheld him approaching, they ran out to
meet him with loud yells, brandishing their tomahawks,
and crying out,'in their own language, "Kill the runaway!"   Miller, who well understood their language,
instantly addressed them with great earnestness, and in
a few words made known the cause of his visit, and the
guarantee which Wayne held for his safe return. To
the first part of the intelligence they listened with supreme contempt. A long conference, ensued, in which
many chiefs spoke, but nothing could be determined
upon.
  On the next day Miller was ordered to return to
Wayne with some evasive message, intending to amuse
him until they could devise some means- of recovering
281
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
their friends. He accordingly left them with great
readiness, and was returning with all possible dispatch,
when he met the general in full march upon the enemy,
having become tired of waiting for the return of his
messenger. Wayne's object in sending Miller is difficult
to be conjectured. The Indians had constantly refused
to come to any terms; they had sent away their women,
and given every indication of a disposition to fight, and
were in possession of ground which would give them immense advantages against the regulars.    He could
scarcely suppose that a treaty could be effected, nor,
with the prospect of battle before him, which to him
presented all the attractions of a ball to a dandy, or a
dinner to an epicure, is it to be supposed that he could
have been very desirous of such an event. The ground
was well known to many individuals in the army, and
Miller's report could have added but little to the knowledge already existing, to say nothing of the strong probability that he might never return from a duty so perilous. The truth is, the old general valued the life of a
soldier at an exceedingly low rate, and thought that,
even if the mission brought no advantage, it was attended with no other danger than the chance of death to
a single soldier, which did not deserve a moment's
thought.
  The general received the report of Miller without delaying his march for a moment, which was continued in
order of battle until he arrived within view of the enemy. The regular force formed the center column, one
brigade of mounted volunteers moved upon the left
under General Barbee, the other brought up the rear
under Brigadier Todd. The right flank was covered by
the river, and Major Price, with a selected corps of
mounted volunteers, was advanced about five miles in
front, with orders to feel the enemy's position, and then
fall back upon the main body. About noon, the advanced corps received so heavy a fire from a concealed
enemy, as to compel it to retire with precipitation. The
heads of the columns quickly reached the hostile ground,
and had a view of the enemy. The ground for miles
was covered with a thick growth of timber, which ren282
ANTHONY WA YNE.
dered the operation of cavalry extremely difficult. The
Indians occupied a thick wood in fiont, where an immense number of trees had been blown down by a hurricane, the branches of which were interlocked in such
a manner as greatly to impede the exertions of the
regulars.
  The enemy were formed in three parallel lines, at
right angles to the river, and displayed a front of more
than two miles. Wayne rode forward to reconnoiter
their positions, and perceiving, from the weight and extent of the fire, that they were in full force, he instantly
made dispositions for the attack. The whole of the
mounted volunteers were ordered to make a circuit, for
the purpose of turning the right flank of the Indians;
the cavalry were ordered to move up under cover of the
river bank, and if possible, turn their left; while the
regular infantry were formed in a thick wood in front
of the "Fallen timber," with orders, as soon as the
signal was given, to rush forward at full speed, without
firing a shot, arousing the enemy from their covert at
the point of the bayonet, and then to deliver a close fire
upon their backs, pressing them so closely as not to permit them to reload their guns. All these orders were
exec'uted \\ith precision. The mounted volunteers moved
off rapidly to occupy the designated ground, while the
first line of infantry was formed under the eye of the
commander for the perilous charge in front.
  As soon as time had been given for the arrival of
the several corps upon their respective points, the order
was given to advance, and the infantry, rushing through
a tremendous fire of rifles, and overleaping every impediment, hastened to close with their concealed enemy and maintain the struggle on equal terms. Although their loss in this desperate charge was by no
means inconsiderable, yet the effect was decisive. The
enemy rose and fled before them more than two miles,
with considerable loss, as, owing to the orders of Wayne,
they were nearly as much exposed as the regulars.
Such was the rapidity of the advance, and the precipitation of the retreat, that only a small part of the volunteers could get up in time to share in the action, al283
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
though there can be no question that their presence and
threatening movement contributed equally with the impetuous charge of' the infanhtry to the success of the day.
  The broken remains of the Indian army were pursued
under the guns of the British fort, and so keen was the
ardor of Wavne's men, and so strong their resentment
against the English, that it was with the utmost difficulty they could be restrained from storming it upon
the spot.   As it was, many of the Kentucky troops
advanced within gunshot, and insulted the garrison
with a select volley of oaths and epithets, which must
have given the British commandant a high idea of
backwoods gentility. He in;tantly wrote an indignant
letter to General Wayne, complaining of the outrage,
and demanding by what authority he trespassed upon
the sacred precincts of a British garrison?     Now,
" Mad Anthony" was the last man in the world to be
dragooned into plolit,ness, and he replied in terms little
short of those employed by the Kentuckians, and satisfactorily informed Captain Campbell, the British commandant, that his only chance of safety was silence and
civility. After some sharp messages on both sides, the
war of the pen ceased, and the destruction of property
began. Houses, stores, cornfields, orchards, were soon
wrapped in flames or leveled with the earth. The dwelling house and store of Colonel McKee, the Indian
agent, shared the fate of the rest.
  All this was performed before the face of Captain
Campbell, who was compelled to look on in silence, and
without any eff,rt to prevent it.  There remains not
the least question now that the Indians were not only
encouraged in their acts of hostility by the English
traders, but were actually supplied with arms, ammunition, an(l provisions, by order of tile English commandant at Detroit, Colonel England.*  There remains a
:' This gentleman was remarkable for his immense height and
enormous quantity of flesh. After his return from America, the
waggish Prince of Wales, who was himself no pigmy, became desirous of seeing him. Colonel England was one day pointed out
to him by Sheridan, as he was in the act of dismounting from his
horse. The Prince regarded him with marked attention for several minutes, and then turning to Sheridan, said with a, laugh,
"Colonel England, hey! You should have said Great Britain!
by G-d! "
284
ANTHONY WA YNE.
correspondence between this gentleman and McKee, in
which urgent demands are made for fresh supplies of
ammunition, and the approach of " the enemy " (as they
call Wayne) is mentioned with great anxiety.  After
the battle of the Rapids, he writes that the Indians are
much discouraged, and that "it will require great efforts
to induce them to remain in a body."  Had Wayne been
positively informed of this circumstance, he would
scarcely have restrained his men from a more energetic
expression of indignation.
  The Indian force being completely dispersed, their
cornfields cut up, and their houses destroyed, Wayne
drew off from the neighborhood of the British post, and
in order to hold the Indians permanently in check, he
erected a fort at the junction of the Auglaize and Miami, in the very heart of the Indian country, to which
he gave the appropriate name of Defiance. As this
was connected with Fort Washington by various intermediate fortifications, it could not fail completely to
overawe the enemy, who, in a very short time, urgently
and unanimously demanded peace.
  No victory could have been better timed than that
of Wayne. The various tribes of Indians throughout
the whole of the United States, encouraged by the repeated disasters of our armies in the North-west, had
become very unsteady and menacing in their intercourse
with the whites.  The Creeks and Cherokees, in the
South, were already in arms, while the Oneidas, Tuscaroras, etc., in the North, were evidently preparing for
hostilities. The shock of the victory at the Rapids,
however, was felt in all quarters. The southern Indians instantly demanded peace; the Oneidas, conscious
of their evil intentions, and fearf'ul of the consequences,
became suddenly affectionate, even to servility; and
within a few months after the victory, all the frontiers
enjoyed the most profound peace. Wayne reported his
loss at thirty-three killed and one hundred wounded.
The Indian loss could not be ascertained, but was suppo~ed to exceed that of the Americans. This, however,
is very doubtful, as they gave way immediately, and
were not so much exposed as the continentals.
285
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
  One circumstance attending their flight is remarkable and deserves to be inserted. Three Indians, being
hard pressed by the cavalry upon one side, and the infantry upon the other, plunged into the river and attempted to swim to the opposite shore. A runaway
negro, who had attached himself to the American army,
was concealed in the bushes on the opposite bank, and
perceiving three Indians approaching nearer than in his
opinion was consistent with the security of his hidingplace, he collected courage enough to level his rifle at
the foremost, as he was swimming, and shot him through
the head. The other two Indians instantly halted in the
water, and attempted to drag the body of their dead
companion ashore. The negro, in the meantime, reloaded his gun and shot another dead upon the spot.
The survivor then seized hold of both bodies, and attempted, with a fidelity which seems astonishing, to
bring them both to land. The negro having had leisure
to reload a second time, and firing from his covert upon
the surviving Indian, wounded him mortally while
struggling with the dead bodies. He then ventured to
approach them, and from the striking resemblance of
their features, as well as their devoted attachment, they
were supposed to have been brothers. After scalping
them, he permitted their bodies to float down the stream.
  We shall conclude our sketches with an anecdote,
which, although partaking somewhat of the marvelous,
is too well authenticated to be rejected. Early in the
spring of 1793, two boys by the name of JOHNSON, the
one twelve, the other nine years of age, were playing
on the banks of Short Creek, near the mouth of the Muskingum, and occasionally skipping stones in the water.
At a distance, they beheld two men, dressed, like ordinary settlers, in hats and coats, who gradually approached
them, and from time to time threw stones into the water,
in imitation of the children. At length, when within one
hundred yards of the boys, they suddenly threw off the
mask, and, rushing rapidly upon them, made them prisoners. They proved to be Indians of the Delaware
286
TWO YO UNG JOHNSONS.
tribe. Taking the children in their arms, they ran
hastily into the woods, and after a rapid march of about
six miles encamped for the night. Having kindled a
fire and laid their rifles and tomahawks against an adjoining tree, they laid down to rest, each with a boy in
his arms.
  The children, as may readily be supposed, were too
much agitated to sleep. The eldest at length began to
move his linibs cautiously, and finding that the Indian
who held him remained fast asleep, he gradually disengaged himself from his arms, and walking to the fire,
which had burned low, remained several minutes in suspense as to what was next to be done. Having stirred
the fire, and ascertained by its light the exact position
of the ehemy's arms, he whispered softly to his brother
to imitate his example, and, if possible, extricate himself from his keeper. The little fellow did as his brother
directed, and both stood irresolute for several minutes
around the fire. At length, the eldest, who was of a
very resolute disposition, proposed that they should kill
the sleeping Indians and return home. The eldest
pointed to one of the guns, and assured his brother that
if he would only pull the trigger of that gun after he
had placed it in rest, he would answer for the other Indian.
  The plan was soon agreed upon. The rifle was leveled, with the muzzle resting upon a log which lay near,
and having stationed his brother at the breech, with
positive directions not to touch the trigger until he gave
the word, he seized a tomahawk and advanced cautiously
to the other sleeper. Such was the agitation of the
younger, however, that he touched the trigger too soon,
and the report of his gun awakened the other Indian
before his brother was quite prepared. He struck the
blow, however, with firmness, although, in the hurry of
the act, it was done with the blunt part of the hatchet,
and only stunned his antagonist. Quickly repeating the
blow, however, with the edge, he inflicted a deep wound
upon the Indian's head, and after repeated strokes, left
him lifeless upon the spot. The younger, frightened at
the explosion of his own gun, had already betaken him#
          26
287
BIOGRAPHY OF TIIE A UTHOR. XXV

paced the floor at twilight. \Vhen I afterward read the Waverly
novels, many portions were quite familiar to me; for instance,
Wamba’s song:
“ ‘ Anna Marie, love, up with the sun-

Anna Marie, love, morn is begun!

Flowers are waking, love, birds singing free—

Up with the sun, then, love, Anna Marie!’

“You know my sister’s name is Anna Maria. Morning by
morning, my father chanted this in our ears to Waken us. He
was fond of singing, had a sweet, mellow voice, and would often
burst out in sudden song as he sat at work, or Walked to and fro
in the room, as was his life—long custom.” A

Under his ministry at Maysville, a deep interest was awakened
and continued, and the church blessed by large accessions and in-
creased spirituality. So great was the impression he made, that
the ministers of other denominations frequently dispensed with
their evening services, in order that they and their congregations
might have the opportunity of listening to his discourses.

S0 conscious was he of the fullness of his knowledge, and so
devoted to the Master’s service, that he delighted in the exposi-
tion of the Scriptures, in familiar conversation in private inter-
views and the social circle, as well as in the pulpit. Although
this was his life-theme, the subject of his constant meditations,
and although ever ready to minister to the hungry and thirsty,
he was never obtrusive; always judicious and discriminating as
to persons and occasions, his conversations Were so. seasonable
and so full of information and interest, that few ever listened
who did not regret when he ceased to speak. But he was no con-
troversionalist; he had no taste for polemics in religion. He did
not conceive that his appointed work lay in this field, and was
careful never to attack the ”®j§ons or offend the feelings of those
who differed with him as to doctrines. He was, indeed, very toler-
ant as to differences in doctrine and church-government within
the limits of recognized evangelical belief, and co-operated with
ministers of other denominations heartily,- as brothers in Christ
and co-laborers in the same vineyard. Hence his relations with
them were kind and warm, and he was enabled to wield a won-
derful influence in the promotion of harmony and the general
interests of the church. Although entirely clear and firm in his
opinions, and although he occasionally discussed the great dis-
tinctive doctrines of his church, and presented them as a compre-
hensive body of divine truth, he was not a doctrinal preacher.

T2TWESTERN AD VENTURE.
self to his heel,, and was with difficulty overtaken by
his brother. Having regained the road by which they
had advanced, the elder fixed his hat upon a bush, in
order to mark the spot, and by daylight they had regained their homes.
  They found their mother in an agony of grief for their
loss, and ignorant whether they had been drowned or
taken by the Indians. Their tale was heard with astonishment, not unminglel with incredulity, and a few
of the neighbors insisted upon accompanying them instantly to the spot where so extraordinary a rencounter
had occurred. The place was soon found and the truth
of the boy's story placed beyond doubt. The tomahawked Indian lay in his blood, where he fell; but the
one who had been shot was not to be found. A broad
trail of blood, however, enabled them to trace his footsteps, and he was at length overtaken. His appearance
was most ghastly. His under jaw had been entirely shot
away, and his hands and breast were covered with clotted blood. Although evidently much exhausted, he
still kept his pursuers at bay, and faced them from time
to time with an air of determined resolution. Either
his gory appearance, or the apprehension that more
were in the neighborhood, had such an effect upon his
pursuers that, notwithstanding their numbers, he was
permitted to escape. Whether he survived, or perished
in the wilderness, could never be ascertained; but from
the severity of the wound, the latter suppo-ition is most
probable.
  From the peace of 1794 down to the renewal of war
in the North-west, under the auspices of Tecumseh and
the Prophet, no event occurred of sufficient importance
to claim our notice. The war was over, and even private and individual aggression was of rare occurrence.
The country which had been the scene of those fierce
conflicts which we have endeavored to relate, became
settled with a rapidity totally unprecedented in the annals of the world. The forests became rapidly thinned,
and the game equally as rapidly disappeared. Numer288
                    CONCL USION.                  289
ous villages, as if by enchantment, were daily springing up in those wild scenes where Kenton, Crawford,
Slover, and Johnston had endured such sufferings; and
the Indians, from fierce and numerous tribes, were
gradually melting down to a few squalid wanderers,
hovering like restless spirits around the scenes of their
former glory, or driven, with insult, from the doors of
the settlers, where they were perpetually calling for
food and rum. Such wanderers were frequently murdered by lawless white men, who, like the rovers of
old, contended that "there was no peace beyond the
line," and as such offenses were rarely punished, the
Indians at length became satisfied that they must either
retire beyond the reach of the whites or make one last
effort to retrieve the sinking fortunes of their race.
Tecumseh was the great apostle of this reviving spirit,
and to do him justice, displayed a genius and perseverance worthy of a better fate. As these events, however, are beyond our limits, we must refer the young
reader, who may have accompanied us thus far, to the
histories of the day, where his curiosity will be amply
gratified.
t
               APPENDIX.
N the life of KENTON, we had occasion to refer to
   various names and circumstances, which, in our anxiety to preserve the unity and connection of the narrative, we passed over very slightly at the time, reserving
a more fill detail for the present place. We allude
to the celebrated war upon the Kenawha, generally
known by the name of Dunmore's expedition, in which
the names of Logan, Lewis, Girty, Cornstalk, etc.,figure
conspicuously. Many and various reasons have been
assigned for this war. Some have attributed it to the
murder of Logan's family by Cresap; others, to the
equally atrocious murder of " Bald Eagle," a celebrated
Delaware chief. Both, probably, contributed to hasten
the rupture, which, however, wvould unquestionably have
taken place without either. The cause of this, as of all
other Indian wars, is to be found in the jealousy and
uneasiness with which the Indians beheld the rapid extension of the white settlements. After the peace of
1763, large tracts of land, in the West, had been assigned as bounties to such officers and soldiers as had
fought throughout the war. Accordingly, as soon as
peace was restored, crowds of emigrants hastened to
the West, attended by the usual swarm of surveyors,
speculators, etc. The inhabitants of the frontiers became mingled with the Indians. They visited and received visits from each other, and frequently met in
their hunting parties. Peace existed between the nations, but the old, vindictive feelings, occasioned by
mutual injuries, still rankled in the breast of individ                                       (291)
APPENDIX.
uals. Civilities were quickly followed by murders,
which led to retaliation, remonstrances, promises of
amendment, and generally closed with fresh murders.
  The murder of "Bald Eagle," an aged Delaware
sachem, was peculiarly irritating to that warlike nation.
He spoke the English language with great fluency, and
being remarkably fond of tobacco, sweetmeats, and rum,
all of which were generally offered to him in profusion
in the settlements, he was a frequent visitor at the fort
erected at the mouth of the Kenawha, and familiarly
acquainted even with the children. He usually ascended the river alone, in a bark canoe, and, from the
frequency and harmlessness of his visits, his appearance never excited the least alarm. A white man, who
had suffered much from the Indians, encountered the
old chief one evening alone upon the river, returning
pcaceably from one of his usual visits. A conference
ensued, which terminated in a quarrel, and the old
man was killed upon the spot. The murderer, having
scalped his victim, fixed the dead body in the usual
sitting posture in the stern of the boat, replaced the
pipe in his mouth, and, launching the canoe again upon the river, permitted it to float down with its burden
undisturbed. Many settlers beheld it descending in this
manner, but, from the upright posture of the old man,
they supposed that he was only returning, as usual,
from a visit to the whites.  The truth, however, was
quickly discovered, and inflamed his tribe with the most
ungovernable rage. Vengeance was vowed for the outrage, and amply exacted.
  At length hostilities upon this remote frontier became
so serious as to demand the attention of government.
One of the boldest of these forays was conducted by
Logan in person. Supposing that the inhabitants of
the interior would consider themselves secure from the
Indians, and neglect those precautions which were generally used upon the frontier, he determined, with a small
but select band of followers, to penetrate to the thick
settlements upon the head-waters of the Monongahela,
and wreak his vengeance upon its unsuspecting inhabitants. The march was conducted with the usual se292
APPENDIX.
crecy of Indian warriors, and with great effect. Many
scalps and several prisoners were taken, with which, by
the signal conduct of their chief, they were enabled to
elude all pursuit, and return in safety to their towns.
  One of the incidents attending this incursion deserves
to be mentioned, as illustrating the character of Logan.
While hovering, with his followers, around the skirts
of a thick settlement, he suddenly came in view of a
small field, recently cleared, in which three men were
pulling flax. Causing the greater part of his men to
remain where they were, Logan, together with two
others, crept up within long shot of the white men and
fired. One man fell dead; the remaining two attempted
to escape.   The elder of the fugitives (Hellew) was
quickly overtaken and made prisoner by Logan's associates, while Logan himself, having thrown down his
rifle, pressed forward alone in pursuit of the younger of
the white men, whose name was Robinson. The contest
was keen for several hundred yards, but Robinson, unluckily looking around in order to have a view of his
pursuer, ran against a tree with such violence as completely to stun him, and render him insensible for
several minutes.
  Upon recovering, he found himself bound and lying
upon his back, while Logan sat by his side, with unmoved gravity, awaiting his recovery.   He was then
compelled to accompany them in their further attempts
upon the settlements, and in the course of a few days
was marched off, with great rapidity, for their villages
in Ohio. During the march, Logan remained silent
and melancholy, probably brooding over the total destruction of his family. The prisoners, however, were
treated kindly, until they arrived at an Indian village
upon the Muskingum. When within a mile of the
town, Logan became more animated, and uttered the
" scalp halloo" several times, in the most terrible tones.
The never-failing scene of insult and torture then began.
Crowds flocked out to meet them, and a line was formed
for the gauntlet.
  Logan took no share in the cruel game, but did not
attempt to repress it.  He, however, gave Robinson,
293
APPENDIX.
whom he regarded as his own prisoner, some directions
as to the best means of reaching the council-house in
safety, and displayed some anxiety for his safe arrival,
while poor Hellew was left in total ignorance, and permitted to struggle forward as he best could. Robinson, under the patronage of Logan, escaped with a few
slight bruises; but Hellew, not knowing where to run,
was dreadi'ully mangled, and would probably have been
killed upon the spot had not Robinsdn (not without
great risk on his own part) seized him  by the hand,
and dragged him into the council-house.
  On the followiing morning a council was called, in
order to determinle their fate, in which Logan held a
conspicuous superiority over all who were assembled.
Hellew's destiny came first under discussion, and was
quickly decided by an almost unanimous vote of adoption. Robinson's was most difficult to determine. A
majority of the council (partly influenced by a natural
thirst for vengeance upon at least one object, partly,
perhaps, by a lurking jealousy of the imposing superiority of Logan's character) were obstinately bent upon putting him to death. Logan spoke for nearly an
hour upon the question; and, if Robinson is to be believed, with an energy, copiousness, and dignity which
would not have disgraced Henry himself. He appeared
at no loss for either words or ideas; his tones were
deep and musical, and were heard by the assembly
with the silence of death.   All, however, was vain.
Robinson was condemned, and, within an hour afterwards, was fastened to the stake. Logan stood apart
from the crowd with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed
upon the scene with an air of stern displeasure.
  When the fire was about to be applied, he suddenly
strode into the circle, pushing aside those who stood in
the way, and, advancing straight up to the stake, cut
the cords with his tomahawk, and taking the prisoner
by the hand, led him, with a determined air, to his
own wigwam. The action was so totally unexpected,
and the air of the chief so determined, that he had
reached the door of his wigwam before any one ventured to interfere. Much dissatisfaction was then ex294
APPENDIYX.
pressed, and threatening symptoms of a tumult appeared; but so deeply rooted was his authority, that in
a few hours all was quiet, and Robinson, without
opposition, was permitted to enter an Indian family.
He remained with Logan until the treaty of Fort Pitt,
in the autumn of the ensuing year, when he returned
to Virginia. He ever retained the most unbounded
admiration for Logan, and repeatedly declared, that
his countenance, when speaking, was the most striking,
varied, and impressive that he ever beheld.    And
when it is recollected that he had often heard Lee and
Henry, in all their glory, the compliment must be regarded as a very high one.
  This, together with various other marauding expeditions, generally carried on by small parties, determined the governor of Virginia (Dunmore) to assemble
a large force, and carry the war into their own territories. The plan of the expedition was soon arranged.
Three complete regiments were to be raised west of the
Blue Ridge, under the command of General Andrew
Lewis; while an equal force, from the interior, was
commanded by Dunmore in person. The armies were
to fobrm a junction at the mouth of the Great Kenawha, and proceed together, under Dunmore, to the
Indian towns in Ohio.
  On the first of September, 1774, a part of General
Lewis's division, consisting of two regiments, under
the orders of Colonel Charles Lewis, his brother, and
Colonel William Fleming, of Botetourt, rendezvoused
at Camp Union (now Lewisburgh, Va.), where they
were joined by an independent regiment of backwoods
volunteers, under the orders of Colonel John Fields, a
very distinguished officer, who, together with most of
those now assembled, had served under Braddock.
Here they remained, awaiting the arrival of Colonel
Christian, who was busily engaged in assembling another regiment. By the junction of Field, Lewis's force
amounted to about eleven hundred men, accustomed to
danger, and conducted by the flower of the border officers.
General Lewis, as well as his brother, had been present
at Braddock's defeat, and were subaltern officers in two
          27
295
APPENDIX.
companies of Virginia riflemen, who formed the advance of the English army.
  We shall here relate some circumstances attending
that melancholy disaster, which are not to be found in
the regular histories of the period. Braddock's battleground was a small bottom, containing not more than
two acres, bounded on the east by the Monongahela,
and upon the west by a high cliff which rises precipitately above the bottom, and which, together with the
river, completely inclosed it. Through this cliff, and
near its center, runs a deep gorge or ravine, the sides
of which are nearly perpendicular, and the summits of
which were at that time thickly covered with timber,
rank grass, and thickets of underwood. Upon this
cliff the Indian army lay in ambush, awaiting the arrival of their foe. The only passage for the English
lay through the ravine, immediately in front of the
ford. The two companies of rangers crossed the river
in advance of the regulars, and suspecting no danger,
immediately entered the mouth of the ravine. Braddock followed in close column, and the devoted army
soon stood in the bottom already mentioned, the river
in the rear, the cliff in front, and the ravine presenting
the only practicable passage to the French fort.
  Instantly a tremendous fire opened upon them from
the cliff above, and as the small bottom was thronged
with red coats, immense execution was done. In the
meantime, the two devoted companies of rangers were
more than one hundred yards in front, and completely
buried in the gorge already mentioned. Upon hearing
the firing in their rear, they attempted to rejoin the
army, but a select corps of Indian warriors rushed down
the steep banks of the raviine and blocked up the passage. A furious struggle ensued. The Indians could
not possibly give way, as the banks were too steep
to admit of retreat in that direction; and if they retired through the mouth of the ravine into the bottom
below, they would have found themselves in the midst
of the English ranks. On the other hand, the Virginians were desperately bent upon rejoining their friiends,
which could only be done over the bodies of the Indi296
APPENDIX.
ans. Thus the gorge became the theater of a separate
battle, far more desperate than that which raged in the
bottom or upon the cliffs.
  In these two companies, were to be found many names
afterward highly distinguished both in the Indian and
British war. Here was General Lewis and his five
brothers; Colonel Matthews, afterward so distinguished
at Germantown, together with four of his brothers;
Colonel John Field, afterward killed at Point Pleasant;
Colonel Grant, of Kentucky; John McDowell, and several others, afterward well known in Virginia and Kentucky. The press was too great to admit of the rifle.
Knives and tomahawks were their only weapons, and
upon both sides (for the numbers engaged) the slaughter
was prodigious. One-half the Virginians were left dead
in the pass, and most of the survivors were badly wounded. The Indians suffered equally, and at length became
so thinned as to afford room for the Virginians to pass
them and rejoin their friends below. There all was dismay and death. Braddock, unable from the nature of
the ground to charge with effect, and too proud to retreat before an enemy whom he despised, was actively,
and as calmly as if upon parade, laboring to form his
troops under a fire which threatened to annihilate every
thing within its range. The event is well known.
  Upon the fall of Braddock, the troops gave way, and,
recrossing the river, rejoined the rear guard of the army,
after a defeat, which then had no parallel in Indian warfare. Colonel Lewis afterward served as major in
Washington's regiment, and ranked peculiarly high in
the estimation of his illustrious commander. He accompanied Grant in his unfortunate masquerade, and
in a brave attempt with the colonial troops to retrieve
the fortune of the day, was wounded and made prisoner
by the French. While he and Grant were together at
Fort du Quesne, upon parole, a quarrel took place between them, much to the amusement of the French.
Grant, in his dispatches, had made Lewis the scapegoat,
and thrown the whole blame of the defeat upon him;
whereas, in truth, the only execution that was done
was effected by his Virginia troops. The dispatches
xxvi BIO GRA PH Y OF THE A UTHOR.

He was a great teacher of the Scriptures, an eafpositor of the Bible.
The memory of his own mental difficulties and long resistance
to the truth, led him, no doubt, to feel that the first thing to be
accomplished was to lay, broadly and deeply in the mind, the
firm conviction that the Bible was inspired and certainly true.
Hence, he was oftentimes at great pains to explain the history,
composition, authenticity, and preservation of the various books
of the Old and New Testaments, and the links, apparent and
secret, which bound them together as the inspired word. Hence,
he dwelt with so much interest and emphasis uponthe types and
symbols and oriental imagery of the Bible, with which he. was so
familiar; and which, under his teaching, resolved so many ob-
scurities of the sacred record, brought out so many hidden har-
monies, and threw such broad lights upon the spiritual signifi-
cance and beautiful consistency of the whole. Hence, he turned
so frequently to the prophecies of the Old Testament, which had
run their course, and proved, from the concurring testimony of
history, sacred and profane, how certain and wonderful had been
the fulfillment. In this connection. he discussed,-in their natural
and logical relations, as well as in the light of an overruling Prov-
idence, the dealings of God with his chosen people and the Gen-
tile nations, to show how all had proceeded to a consummation
which prophecy had foretold. Especially did he point to the
chastisement a11d dispersion of the Jews, under which they have
suffered for so many centuries and are still suffering, in perfect
accordance with a prophecy uttered and recorded certainly thou-
sands of years ago, as a demonstration of the inspiration of the
Bible, unanswerable and overwhelming. He loved to trace the
earliest intimations of mercy to man as they Slimmer, in the twi-
light of time, through sacrifice, and symbol, and type; and to
gather up and mold into symmetry and shape the fragmentary
portraitures of a Savior, by seer, and psalmist, and prophet, as
they come darkly down, scattered along generations and centu-
ries, to the manger and the cross.

He often unfolded the parables and dwelt on the teachings of
our Lord, in their wide and minute application to all the inner
and outer experiences of life, to show that they indeed disclosed
the only true wisdom. And, sometimes, in the midst of a great
passage, when pressing the claims of the gospel upon the imme-
diate attention of his hearers, and urging them, upon the infal-
lible truth of its precious promises, to dedicate their whole lives
to the Savior’s service—his long arms would be suddenly folded

APPENDIX.
fell into the hands of some Indians, who brought them
to the French commandant. Captain Lewis happened
to be present when they were opened, and was quickly
iuf)ormed of their contents.
  Without uttering a word, he went in search of Grant,
reproached him with the falsehood, and putting his hand
upon his sword, directed his former commander to draw
and defend himself upon the spot. Grant contemptuously refused to comply, upon which Lewis lost all
temper, cursed him for a liar and a coward, and in the
presence of two French officers spit in his face. General Lewis's person considerably exceeded six feet in
height, and was at once strongly and handsomely
formed.   His countenance was manly and sternstrongly expressive of that fearlessness and energy of
character which distinguished him through life. His
manners were plain, cold, and unbending, and his conversation short, pithy, and touching only upon the
"needful."   At the general treaty with the Indian
tribes, in 1763, General Lewis was present, and his fine
military appearance attracted great attention, and inspired somewhat of awe among the more pacific deputies. The governor of New York declared that he
"looked like the genius of the forest; and that the
earth seemed to tremble beneath his footsteps."
  Such as we have described him, he was now placed
at the head of one thousand men, with orders to meet
Dunmore at Point Pleasant. Having waited several
days at Lewisburgh for Colonel Christian, without hearing from him, he determined no longer to delay his advance. On the eleventh of September, he left Lewisburgh, and without any adventure of importance, arrived at the concerted place of rendezvous. Dunmore
had not yet arrived, and Lewis remained several days
in anxious expectation of his approach. At length, he
received dispatches from the governor, informing him
that he had changed his plan, and had determined to
move directly upon the Scioto villages, at the same time
ordering Lewis to cross the Ohio and join him.
  Although not much gratified at this sudden change
of a plan which had been deliberately formed, Lewis
298
APPENDIX.
prepared to obey, and had issued directions for the construction of rafts, boats, etc., in which to cross the Ohio;
when, on the morning of the tenth of October, two of
his hunters came running into camp, with the intelligence that a body of Indians was at hand, which covered "four acres of ground."
  Upon this news, the general (having first lit his pipe)
directed his brother, Colonel Charles Lewis, to proceed
with his own regiment, and that of Colonel Fleming,
and reconnoiter the ground where the enemy had been
seen, while he held the remainder of the army ready to
support him. Colonel Charles Lewis instantly advanced
in the execution of his orders, and at the distance of a
mile from camp, beheld a large body of the enemy advancing rapidly in hope of surprising the Virginian
camp. The sun was just rising as the rencounter took
place, and in a few minutes the action became warm
and bloody.   Colonel Charles Lewis being much exposed, and in full uniform, was mortally wounded early
in the action, as was Colonel Fleming, the second in
command. The troops, having great confidence in Colonel Lewis, were much discouraged, and being hard
pressed by the enemy, at length gave way, and attempted to regain the camp. At this critical moment, General Lewis ordered up Field's regiment, which, coming
handsomely into action, restored the fortune of the day.
The.Indians, in turn, were routed, and compelled to retire to a spot where they had erected a rough breastwork of logs.
  The action was fought in the narrow point of land
formed by the junction of the Ohio and Kenawha. The
Indian breastwork was formed from one river to the
other, so as to inclose the Virginians within the point;
of course the breastwork formed the base, and the Virginian camp the vertex of the triangle, of which the
rivers were sides. Here they rallied in full force, and
appeared determined to abide the brunt of the Virginian force. Logan, Cornstalk, Elenipsico, Red Eagle,
and many other celebrated chiefs were present, and were
often heard loudly encouraging their warriors. Cornstalk, chief sachem of the Shawnees, and leader of the
299,
APPENDIX.
northern confederacy, was particularly conspicuous. As
the repeated effibrts of the whites to carry the breastwork became more warm and determined, the Indian
line began to waver, and several were seen to give way.
Cornstalk, in a moment, was upon the spot, and was
heard distinctly to shout, " Be strong! Be strong! " in
tones which rose above the din of the conflict. He
buried his hatchet in the head of one of his warriors,
and indignantly shaming the rest, completely restored
the battle, which raged until four o'clock in the afternoon, without any decisive result.  The Virginians
fought with distinguished bravery, and suffired severely
in those repleated charges upon the breastwork, but
weri unable to make any impression. The Indians,
toward evening, dispatched a part of their force to
cross both rivers, in order to prevent the escape of a
man of the Virginians, should victory turn against
them.
  At length General Lewis, alarmed at the extent of
his loss and the obstinacy of the enemy, determined to
make an eff,rt to turn their flank with three companies
and attack them    in rear. By the aid of a small
stream, which empties into the Kenawha a short distance above its mouth, and which at that time had high
and bushy banks, he was enabled to gain their rear with
a small force, commanded by Captain (afterward governor) Isaac Shelby. Cornstalk instantly ordered t retreat, which was performed in a masterly manner, and
with a very slight loss, the Indians alternately advancing and retreating in such a manner as to hold the whites
in check until dark, when the whole body disappeared.
The loss of the Virginians was severe, and amounted,
il killed and wounded, to one-fourth of their whole number. The Indi:n loss was comparatively trifling. The
action was shortly followed by a treaty, at which all the
chiefs were present except Logan, who refused to be included in it. He wandered among the North-western
tribes for several years, like a restless spirit, and finally,
in utter recklesessness, became strongly addicted to gaming
and the use of ardent spirits. He was at length murdered on a solitary journey from Detroit to the north300
APPENDIX.
eastern part of Ohio, as is generally supposed, by his
own nephew.
  It is not a little singular that the three celebrated Indian chiefs who commanded in the battle at the Point
should all have been murdered, and that two of them
should have met their fate upon the same spot which
had witnessed their brave efforts to repress the extension
of the white settlements. Cornstalk and Elenipsico, his
son, were killed during a friendly visit to Point Pleasant
in the summer oft' 1775, only a few months after the action. The circumstances attending the affair are thus
related by Colonel Stewart:
  A Captain Arbuckle commanded the garrison of the
fort erected at Point Pleasant after the battle fought by
General Lewis with the Indians at that place, in October, 1774. In the succeeding year, when the revolutionary war had commenced, the agents of Gieat Britain
exerted themselves to excite the Iindians to hostility
against the United States. The mass of the Shawnees
entertained a strong animosity against the Americans.
But two of their chiefs, Cornstalk and Red Hawk, not
participating in that animosity, visited the garrison at
the Point, where Arbuckle continued to command.
Colonel Stewart was at the post in the character of a
volunteer, and was an eye-witness of the facts which he
relates. Cornstalk represented his unwillingness to take
a part in the war on the British side, but stated that his
nation, except himself and his tribe, were determined
on war with us, and he supposed that lie and his people
would be compelled to go with the stream.
  On this intimation, Arbuckle resolved to detain the
two chiefs and a third Shawnee who came with them to
the fort as hostages, under the expectation of preventing
thereby any hostile efforts of the nation. On the day
before these unfortunate Indians fell victims to the fury
of the garrison, Elenipsico, the son of Cornstalk, repaired to Point Pleasant for the purpose of visiting his
father, and on the next day two men belonging to the
garrison, whose names were Hamilton and Gillmore,
crossed the Kenawha, intending to hunt in the woods
beyond it. On their return from hunting, some Indians,
301
APPENDIX.
who had come to view the position at the Point, concealed themselves in the weeds near the mouth of the
Kenawha, and killed Gillmore while endeavoring to
pass them. Colonel Stewart and Captain Arbuckle
were standing on the opposite bank of the river at that
time, and were surprised that a gun had been fired so
near the fort, in violation of orders which had been issued inhibiting such an act.
  Hamilton ran down the bank and cried out that Gillmore was killed. Captain Hall commanded the company to which Gillmore belonged. His men leaped into
a canoe, and hastened to the relief of Hamilton. They
brought the body of Gillmhnore, weltering in blood and
the head scalped, across the river. The canoe had
scarcely reached the shore, when Hall's men cried out,
"Let us kill the Indians in the fort!" Captain Hall
placed himself in front of his soldiers, and they ascended the river's bank, pale with rage, and carrying
their loaded firelocks in their hands. Colonel Stewart
and Captain Arbuckle exerted themselves in vain to dissuade these men, exasperated to madness by the spectacle of Gillmore's corpse, from the cruel deed which they
contemplated. They cocked their guns, threatening
those gentlemen with instant death if they did not desist,
and rushed into the fort.
  The interpreter's wife, who had been a captive among
the Indians and felt an affection for them, ran to their
cabin and informed them that Hall's soldiers were advancing with the intention of taking their lives, because
they believed that the Indians who killed Gillmore had
come with Cornstalk's son on the preceding day. This
the young man solemnly denied, and averred that he
knew nothing of ther. His father, perceiving that Elenipsico was in great agitation, encouraged him, and advised him not to fear. "If the Great Spirit," said he,
"has sent you here to be killed, you ought to (lie like a
man!"    As the soldiers approached the door, Cornstalk
rose to meet them, and received seven or eight balls,
which instantly terminated his existence. His son was
shot dead in the seat which he occupied. The Red
Hawk made an attempt to climb the chimney, but fell
302
A PPENDI-X.
by the fire of some of Hall's men. " The other Indian,"
says Colonel Stewart, "was shamefully mangled, and I
grieved to see him so long dying."
      ST. CLAIR'S OFFICIAL        LETTER.
                 "FORT WASHINGTON, November 9, 1791.
  "Sir: Yesterday afternoon the remains of the army
under my command got back to this place, and I have
now the painful task to give an account of a warm and
as unfortunate an action as almost any that has been
fought, in which every corps was engaged and worsted
except the first regiment, that had been detached upon
a service that I had the honor to inform you of in my
last dispatch, and had not joined me.
  "On the third inst. the army had reached a creek
about twelve yards wide, running to the southward of
west, which I believe to have been the river St. Mary
that empties into the Miami of the lake; arrived at the
village about bfour o'clock in the afternoon, having
marched near nine miles, and were immediately encamped upon a commanding piece of ground in two
lines, having the above-mentioned creek in front. The
right wing, composed of Butler's, Clark's, and Patterson's
battalions, commanded by Major-General Butler, formed
the first line, and the left wing, consisting of Bedinger
and Gaither's battalions, and the second regiment, commanded by Colonel Darke, formed the second line, with
an interval between them of about seventy yards, which
was all the ground would allow.
  "The right flank was pretty well secured by the
creek, a steep bank, and Faulkner's corps. Some of the
cavalry and their pickets covered the left flank. The
militia were sent over the creek, and advanced about
one-quarter of a mile, and encamped in the same order.
There were a few Indians who appeared on the opposite
side of the creek, but fled with the utmost precipitation
on the advance of the militia. At this place, which I
303
APPENDIX.
judged to be about fifteen miles from the Miami villages,
I had determined to throw up a slight work, the plan
of which was concerted that evening with Major Ferguson, wherein to have deposited the nien's knapsacks, and
every thing else that was not of absolute necessity, and
to have moved on to attack the enemy as soon as the
first regiment was c)ome up; but they did not plermit me
to execute either, for on the fourth, about half an hour
before sunrise, and when the men had been just dismissed from the parade (for it was a constant practice to
have them all under arms a considerable time before
daylight), an attack was made upon the militia, who
gave way in a very little time and rushed into camp
through Major Butler's battalion, which, together with
part of Clark's, they threw into considerable disorder,
and which, notwithstanding the exertions of both these
officers, was never altogether remedied.
  " Tae Indians followed close at their heels; the fire,
however, of the front line checked them; but almost
instantaneouily a very heavy attack began upon that
line, and in a few minutes it was extended to the second
likewise. The great weight of it was directed against
the center of each, where the artillery was, placed, and
from which the men were repeatedly driven with great
slaughter. Finding no great effect from the fire, and
confusion beginning to spread from the great number
of men who were fallen in all quarters, it became necessary to try what could be done with the bayonet.
   " Lieutenant-Colonel Darke was accordingly ordered
to make a charge, with a part of the second line, and to
turn the left flank of the enemy. This was executed
with great spirit, and at first promised much success.
The Indians instantly gave way, and were driven back
three or tfur hundred yards; but fobr want of a sufficient
number of riflemen to pursue this advantage, they soon
returned, and the troops were obliged to give back in
their turn. At this moment they had entered our camp
by the left flank, having pursued back the troops that
were posted there.
   "Another charge was made here by the second regiment, Butler's and Clark's battalions, with equal effect,
304
APPENDIX.
and it was repeated several times, and always with success; but in all of them many men were lost, and particularly the officers, which, with some raw troops, was
a loss altogether irremediable. In that I just spoke of,
made by the second regiment, and Butler's battalion,
Major Butler was danlgerously wounded, and every
officer of the second regiment fell, except three, one of
which, Captain Greaton,, was shot through the body.
  " Our artillery being now silenced, and all the officers
killed except Captain Ford, who was badly wounded,
more than half of the army fallen, being cut off from
the road, it became necessary to,attempt the regaining
it, and to make a retreat if possible. To this purpose
the remains of the army was formed as well as circumstances would admit, toward the right of the encampment; from which, by the way of the second line, another
charge was made upon the enemy, as if with the design
ot' turning their right flank, but it was in fact to gain
the road. This was effected, and as soon as it was open
the militia entered it, followed by the troops, Major
Clark, with his battalion, covering the rear.
  " The retreat in those circumstances was, you may be
sure, a precipitate one. It was in fact a flight. The
camp and the artillery were abandoned; but that was
unavoidable, for not a horse was left alive to have
drawn it off had it otherwise been practicable. But
the most disgracefil part of the business is, that the
greatest part of the men threw away their arms and accouterments, even after the pursuit (which continued
about four miles) had ceased.
   " I found the road strewed with them for many miles,
but was not able to remedy it; for having had all my
horses killed, and being mounted upon one that could
not be pricked out of a walk, I could not get fobrward
myself, and the orders I sent forward, either to halt the
front, or prevent the men from parting with their arms,
were unattended to.
   "The rout continued quite to Fort Jefferson, twentynine miles, which was reached a little after sunset.
The action began about half ah hour before sunrise,
and the retreat was attempted at half past nine o'clock.
305
APPENDIX.
  "I have not yet been able to get the returns of the
killed and wounded; but Major-General Butler, Lieutenant-Colonel Oldham, of the militia, Majors Ferguson, Hart, and Clark, are among the former.
  "I have now, sir, finished my melancholy tale; a tale
that will be felt, sensibly felt, by every one that has
sympathy for private distress, or for public misfortune.
I have nothing, sir, to lay to the charge of the troops
but their want of discipline, which, from the short time
they had been in service, it was impossible they should
have acquired, and which rendered it very difficult, when
they were thrown into confusion, to reduce them again to
order, and is one reason why the loss has fallen so heavily
upon the officers, who did every thing in their power to
effect it. Neither were my own exertions wanting; but
worn down with illness, and suffering under a painful
disease, unable either to mount or dismount a horse
without assistance, they were not so great as they otherwise would, or perhaps ought to have been.
  "We were overpowered by numbers; but it is no
more than justice to observe that, though composed of
so many different species of troops, the utmost harmony
prevailed through the whole army during the campaign.
  " At Fort Jefferson I found the first regiment, which
had returned from the service they had been sent upon,
without either overtaking the deserters, or meeting the
convoy of provisions. I am not certain, sir, whether I
ought to consider the absence of this regiment from the
field of action as fortunate; for I very much doubt
whether, had it been in the action, the fortune of the
day had been turned; and if it had not, the triumph
of the enemy would have been more complete, and the
country would have been destitute of means of defense.
   "Taking a view of the situation of our broken troops
at Fort Jefferson, and that there were no provisions in
the fort, I called on the field officers for their advice
what would be proper further to be done; and it was
their unanimous opinion, that the addition of the first
regiment, unbroken as it was, did not put the army on
so respectable a footing as it was in the morning, because a great part of it was now unarmed; that it had
306
APPENDIX.
been found unequal to the enemy, and should they come
on, which was probable, would be fobund so again; that
the troops could not be thrown into the fort, because it
was too small, and there was no provision in it; that
provisions were known to be upon the road at the distance of one, or at most two, marches; that, therefore,
it would be proper to move without loss of time to meet
the provisions, when the men might have the sooner an
opportunity of some refreshment, and that a proper detachment might be sent back with it, to have it safely
deposited in the fbrt.
  " This advice was accepted, and the army was put in
motion at ten o'clock, and marched all night, and the
succeeding day met with a quantity of flour; part of it
was distributed immediately,.part taken back to supply the army on the march to Fort Hamilton, and the
remainder, about fifty horse-loads, sent forward to Fort
Jefferson.
  " I have said, sir, in the former part of my communication, that we were overpowered by numbers; of that,
however, I had no other evidence but the weight of the
fire, which was always a most deadly one, and generally
delivered from the ground, few of' the enemy showing
themselves on foot, except when they were charged, and
that in a few minutes our whole camp, which extended
above three hundred and fifty yards in lenlgth, was
entirely surrounded and attacked on all quarters.
  " The loss, sir, the public has sustained by the fall of
so many officers, particularly General Butler and Major Ferguson, can not be too much regretted; but it is
a ci-rcum-tance that will alleviate the misfortune in
some measure, that all of them fell most gallantly doing their duty. I have the honor to be, sir, your most
obedient servant,
                             "ARTHUR ST. CLAIR.
 "4 HON. SECRETARY OF WAR."
 Upon a review of the chapter containing St. Clair's
 defeat, the author is aware that he will probably be
 charged with undue partiality, and perhaps with a mis statement of facts, particularly as it relates to the force
307
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTHOR. xxvii

on his breast, his form drawn up to its full height, and, with look
and manner intensely earnest, he would cry out, in thrilling to11es,
“ Will you listen to me! will you remember!”

He was totally free from the formal mannerism which fre-
quently mars pulpit delivery. He had spoken too often to juries
and popular assemblages, not to know that the direct look, the
natural bearing, the familiar illustration, the free, energetic,
emotional delivery, as the extemporaneous thought pressed to
its conclusions, was the only way to arrest and hold the atten-
tion, sway the feelings, and command the convictions of his
audience. _

At this period he seemed to feel very deeply the necessity laid
upon him to do quickly what he had to do in his Master’s service.
His devotion was unsparing, and his physical system so frail, that
his health, in spite of his heroic efforts to maintain it, gradually
declined. A touching incident, illustrative of his entire dedica-
tion to his work, occurred in the early part of 1859. He had been
absent a few days, on hard service, and returned on Saturday
night, much exhausted. At the morning services succeeding,
in reading the 19th chapter of Job, it was observed that he was
very feeble, and rested on the pulpit for support. As he pro-
ceeded, his Voice became scarcely audible, and his head grad-
ually drooped. In the midst of the 21st verse———“Have pity upon
me, have pity upon me, oh ye, my friends; for the hand of God
hath touched me”—his articulation ceased, his head sank; he
had fainted. He was promptly surrounded by his friends, who
caught him before he fell, and laid him on the floor of the pul-
pit. Restoratives were applied, and he slowly became conscious.
His physician said he should be carried home as soon as his
strength permitted. McClung shook his head. It was urged
that his life would be endangered, if he persisted in the services.
But he could not be influenced. “I must preach the gospel !” he
said; and he did preach to that awed and sympathizing congre-
gation a noble discourse on that chapter of Job.

His mournful end was now near at hand. The great light was
soon to be extinguished. On VVednesday, the 3d of August, of
that year, he left Maysville, on an excursion for the benefit of
his health. Passing through Cincinnati and Cleveland, he stop-
ped, on Friday, at the village of Tonawanda, about nine miles
from Niagara Falls, intending to spend the Sabbath there. But
finding that there was no Presbyterian Church in the town, it is

- supposed that on Saturday, the 6th, he walked over to the steam-

APPENDIX.
of the Indian army. Mr. Marshall, in his life of
Washington, reduces the Indian force to an equality
with St. Clair, and Mr. Marshall, of Kentucky, appears
to be of the same opinion. That chapter was written
before I had particularly referred to these excellent authorities, and my own statement of the Indian force
was taken from a book entitled "Indian Wars," which
professes to have derived it from the acknowledgment
of the Indians themselves. Upon reflection, I am satisfied that the gentlemen above mentioned are correct,
and only regret that the error, into which I was led by
insufficient authority, can not now be remedied.
  In a private letter from Colonel McKee, the Indian
agent, to Colonel England, at Detroit, the Indian force
assembled at the " Fallen Timber," a few days before
the battle, is estimated at " one thousand men,!" The
letter concludes with an earnest demand for reinforcemeats! Ten days afterward the battle was fought,
within which period it is difficult to believe that large
reinforcements could arrive from the upper lakes, the
only source from which they were expected. It is absolutely certain, that the Indian force opposed to Wayne
did not exceed fifteen hundred men, although their
whole strength was assembled. From       this data, it
would seem impossible that the force employed against
St. Clair (more hastily collected and at shorter warning) could have exceeded twelve or fifteen hundred
men. Mr. Marshall, although evidently disposed to do
that unfortunate gentleman every justice, is, nevertheless, tolerably severe in his strictures upon the order of
battle.
  He particularly censures him for posting the militia
in front, in order to receive the first shock, and contends that they should have been formed in the center
of the square, in order to reinforce'such parts of the
line as gave away. This, as the event turned out, would
probably have been better than the measure actually
adopted, but St. Clair, at the time, only conformed to
the rule then established, and universally practiced.
Militia was always advanced in front of regulars, and
never incorporated with them. This was uniformly
308
APPENDIX.
done by Washington, by Green (except upon one occasion, when he placed them in the rear as a reserve,
and, when they were wanted, found them too much
frightened to be of any use), and by every general who
employed them. We criticise St. Clair by the light of
forty years' additional experience in Indian warfare,
which, at the time of his defeat, was not so well understood, at least so far as relates to the employment of
regulars, as now.
  The close encampment of the troops was certainly
highly improper, as battle was expected, and for battle
he should have been always prepared. For the rest,
we can see no room for blame. That no general charge
was made, is true, for the simple reason that the troops,
being totally raw, could not be brought to unite in one,
although every possible exertion was made by officers as
brave and intelligent as any in America. And even if
one could have been made, there is every reason to believe that the event of the action would have been the
same. The Indians would have given way, but their
retreating'fire was as fatal as any other, and, had the
regulars fobllowed throughout the day, they could not
have overtaken them, and, without a sufficient body of
cavalry, could have made no impression upon so lightfooted and irregular an enemy.
  That a general charge succeeded under Wayne, is
true.  But how different were the circumstances!
Wayne was the assailant; St. Clair was attacked suddlenlly, and under great disadvantages. Waynle more
than doubled his enemy in numbers; St. Clair was, at
best, only equal to his. And, what made an incalculable
difference, Wayne was in possession of a 1poweiful body
of mounted men, who alone exceeded the whole body
of Indians in the field. Here advantages gained by the
bayonet could be pressed by a numerous cavalry. The
Indians were aware of all these circumstances; they
beheld the movement of the mounted men, in order to
turn their position, and, finding themselves charged in
their coverts, instantly fled, but whether from fear of
the bayonets of the infiantry or the more rapid movements of the horse, is a question which might admit
309
APPENDIX.
of discussion. Had Wayne encountered them with the
bayonet alone, they would (as in St. Clair's case) have
fled, but, like the ancient Parthians, their flight would
have been as fhtal as their advance. I have not the
slightest disposition to detract from the well-merited
fame of Wayne. His whole movements, during the
campaign, displayed a boldness, vigor, and decision
which the miserable decrepitude of St. Clair forbade him
to exert; but it can not be denied that he fought with
means incomparably beyond those of his predecessor.
  N. B.-General St. Clair was of the opinion that his
defeat occurred upon the St. Mary, and it is so stated
in his official dispatch. It is incorrect. The action was
fought upon a small tributary-stream of the Wabash.
            INDIAN MANNERS.
                    THE CHASE.
  THE following numbers are chiefly collected from
Lewis & Clarke and Major Long's Journal:
  "When the trading and planting occupations of the
people are terminated, and provisions begin to fail them,
which occurs generally in June, the chiefs assemble a
council for the purpose of deliberating upon farther
arrangements necessary to be made.    This assembly
decrees a feast to be prepared on a certain day, to
which all the distinguished men of the nation are to be
invited, and one of their number is appointed to have
it prepared in his own lodge. On the return of this
individual to his dwelling, he petitions his squaws to
have pity on him, and proceed to clean and adjust the
department; to spread the mats and skins for seats, and
to collect wood, and bring water for cooking. He requests them to provide three or four large kettles to
prepare the maize, and to kill their fattest dog for a
feast. The squaws generally murmur at this last propo.
sition, being reluctant to sacrifice these animals, which
310
APPENDIX.
are of great service to them in carrying burdens, like
the dogs of the erratic Tartars; but when they are infobrmed of the honor that awaits them, of feasting all
the distinguished men, they undertake their duties with
pride and satisfaction.
  " When they have performed their part, the squaws
give notice to the husband, who then calls two or three
old public criers to his lodge. He invites them to be
seated near him, and, after the ceremony of smoking,
he addresses them in a low voice, directing them to
pass through the village and invite the individuals
whom he names to them, to honor him, by their presence, at the feast which is now prepared.'Speak in
a low voice,' says he,.' and tell them to bring their
bowls and spoons.' The criers, havilug thus received
their instructions, sally out together, and, in concert,
sing aloud, as they pass in various directions through
the village. In this song of invitation, the names of
all the elect are mentioned.  Having performed this
duty, they return to the lodge, and are soon followed
by the chief' and warriors. The host seats himself in
the back part of the lodge, facing the entrance, where
he remains during the ceremony.     If the host is invested with the dignity of chief, he directs those who
enter where to seat themselves, so that the chiefs may
be arranged on one side, and the warriors on the other:
if he is a warrior, he seats the principal chiefs of the
village by his side, who whisper, in his ear, the situation which those who enter ought to occupy: this intimation is repeated aloud by the host; when the guests
are all arranged, the pipe is lighted, and the indispensable ceremony of smoking proceeds.
  "The principal chief then rises, and, extending his
expanded hand toward each in succession, gives thanks
to them individually, by name, for the honor of their
company, and requests their patient attention to what
he is about to say. He then proceeds somewhat in the
following manner:-' Friends and relatives, we are assembled here for the purpose of consulting respecting
the proper course to pursue in our next hunting excursion, or whether the quantity of provisions at present
          28
311
APPENDIX.
on hand will justify a determination to remain here to
weed our maize.'    If it be decided to depart immediately, the subject to be then taken into view will be
the direction, extent, and object of the route.
   " Having thus disclosed the business of the council,
he is frequently succeeded by an old chief, who thanks
him for his attention to their wants, and advises the
assembly to pay great attention to what he has said, as
he is a man of truth, of knowledge, and bravery. He
further assures them, that they have ample cause to return thanks to the Great Wahconda for having sent
such a main among them.
  "The assembly then take the subject into their consideration, and, after much conversation, determine
upon a route, which the principal chief proposes in a
speech. This chief, previous to the council, is careful
to awcertain the opinions and wishes of his people, and
speaks accordingly.
   " He sometimes, however, meets with opposition from
persons who propose other hunting-grounds; but their
discourses are filled with compliments to his superior
knowledge and good sense.       The proceedings of the
council are uniformly conducted with the most perfect
good order and decorum.
   " Each spealer carefully abstains from militating against
the sensibility of any of his hearers: and uncourteous expressions toward each other, on these occasions, are never
heard.   Generally, at each pause of the speaker, the
audience testify their approbation, aloud, by the intejection HE H! and as they believe that he has a just right
to his own opinions, however absurd they may appear to
be, and opposite to their own, the expression of them
excites no reprehension; and, if they can not approve,
they do not condemn, unless urgqed by necessity.
  "The day assigned for their departure having arrived, the squaws load their horses and dogs, and place
as great a weight upon their own backs as they can
conveniently transport; and, after having closed the
entrances to their several habitations, by placing a
considerable quantity,of brushwood before them, the
whole nation departs from the village.
312
APPEND IX.
  "The men scatter about in every direction, to reconnoiter the country for enemies and game; but notwithstanding the constant activity of the hunters, the
people often endure severe privation from want of food,
previously to their arrival within view of the bisons,
an interval of fifteen or twenty days.
   " On coming in sight of the herd, the hunters speak
kindly to their horses; applying to them the endearing
name of father, brother, uncle, etc.; they petition them
not to fear the buffaloes, but to run well, and keep close
to them, but at the same time to avoid being gored.
The party having approached as near to the herd as
they suppose the animals will permit, without taking
the alarm, they halt, to give the pipe-bearer an opportunity of smoking; which is considered necessary to
their success. He lights his pipe, and remains a short
time with his head inclined, and the stem of the pipe
extended toward the herd. He then smokes, and puffs
the smoke toward the buffaloes, toward the heavens
an(d the earth, and finally to the cardinal points successively.  These List they distinguish by the terms,
sunrise, sunset, cold country, and warm country; or
they designate them collectively by the phrase of the
four winds.
  "The ceremony of smoking being performed, the
word for starting is given by the principal chief. They
immediately separate into two hands, who pass in full
speed to the right and left, and perform a considerable
circuit, with the object of inclosing the herd, at a considerable interval between them. They then close in
upon the animals, and each man endeavors to kill as
many of them as his opportunity permits.
  " It is upon this occasion that the Indians display
their horsemanship and dexterity in archery. While
in full run, they discharge the arrow with an aim of
much certainty, so that it penetrates the body of the animal behind the shoulder. If it should not bury itself so
deeply as they wish, they are often known to ride up
to the enraged animal and withdraw it. They observe
the direction and depth to which the arrow enters, in
order to ascertain whether or not the wound is mortal,
313
APPENDIX.
of which they can judge with a considerable degree of
exactness; when a death wound is inflicted the hunter
raises a shout of exultation, to prevent others from pursuing the individual of which he considers himself certain. He then passes on in pursuit of another, and so
on until his quiver is exhausted, or the game has fled
beyond his farther pursuit.
  "The force of the arrow, when discharged by a dexterous and athletic Indian, is very great; and we were
even credibly itnformed that, under favorable circumstances, it has been known to pass entirely through
the body of a buffalo, and actually to fly some distance,
or fall to the ground, on the opposite side of the animal.
  " Notwithstanding the apparent confusion of this engagement, and that the same animal is sometimes feathered by arrows from different archers before he is dispatched, or considered mortally wounded, yet, as each
man knows his own arrows from all others, and can also
estimate the nature of the wound, whether it would produce a speedy death to the animal, quarrels respecting
the right of property in the prey seldom occur, and it
is consigned to the more fortunate individual, whose
weapon penetrated the most vital part. The chase
having terminated, each Indian can trace back his devious route to the starting place, so as to recover any
small article he may have lost.
   " A fleet horse, well trained to hunt, runs at the proper distance, with the reins thrown upon his neck, parallel with the buffalo, turns as he turns, and does not
cease to exert his speed until the shoulder of the animal
is presente I, and the fatal arrow is implanted there. He
then complies withl the motion of his rider, who leans to
one side in order to direct his course to another buffalo.
Such horses as these are reserved by their owners exclusively for the chase, and are but rarely subjected to
the drudgery of carrying burdens.
   " When the herd has escaped, and those that are only
wounded or disabled are secured, the hunters proceed
to flay and cut up the slain. Every eatable part of the
animal is carried to the camp and preserved, excepting
the feet and the head; but the brains are taken from
314
APPENDIX.
the skull for the purpose of dressing the skin, or converting it into Indian leather."
  In descending the Ontonagon River, which falls into
Lake Superior, Mr. Schoolcraft says: "Our Indian
guides stopped on the east side of the river to examine
a bear-fall that had been previously set, and were overjoyed to find a large bear entrapped. As it was no great
distance from the river, we all landed to enjoy the sight.
The animal sat up on his fore paws, facing us, the hinder
paws being pressed to the ground by a heavy weight of
logs, which had been arranged in such a manner as to
allow the bear to creep under, and wfIen, by seizing the
bait, he had sprung the ti,ap, he could not extricate himself, although with his fore paws he had demolished a
part of the works. After viewing him for some time,
a ball was fired through his head, but did not kill him.
The bear kept his position, and seemed to growl in defiance. A second ball was aimed at the heart, and took
effect; but he did not re-ign the contest immediately,
and was at last dispatched with an ax. As soon as
the bear fell, one of the Indians walked up, and addressing him by the name of Muckwah, shook him by the
paw with a smiling countenance, saying, in the Indian
language, he was sorry he had been under the necessity of killing him, and hoped the offense would be forgiven, particularly as Long-knife* had fired one of the
balls."t
                   THEIR DANCES.
  All their dances are distinguished by appropriate
names, such as the war dance, the scalp dance, the buffalo dance, the beggar's dance, etc. In Major Long's
Journal, the beggar's dance is thus described: "About
one hundred Ottoes, together with a deputation of the
Ioway nation, who had been summoned by Major O'Fallon (Indian agent for the Government of the United
States), presented themselves at our camp. The principal chiefs advanced before their people, and, upon invitation, seated themselves. After a short interval of
silence, Shonga-Tonga, the Big Horse, a large, portly
t Schoolcraft's Journal, p. 183.
315
*An American.
APPENDIX.
Indian, of a commanding presence, arose, and said,' My
father, your children have come to dance before your
tent, agreeably to our custom of honoring brave or distinguished persons.'
  "After a suitable reply from   Major O'Fallon, the
amusement of dancing was commenced by the striking
up of their rude instrumental and vocal music, the
former consisting of a gong made of a large keg, over
one end of which a skin was stretched, which was struck
by a small stick; and another instrument consisting of
a stick of firm wood, notched like a saw, over the teeth
of which a smaller stick was rubbed forcibly backward
and forward. With these, ru(le as they were, very good
time was preserve,l with the vocal perf,rmers, who sat
around them; and by all the natives as they sat, in the
inflection of their bodies, or the movements of their
limbs. After the lapse of a little time, three individuals leaped up, and danced around for a few minutes;
then, at a concerte.1 signal from the master of ceremnonies, the music ceased and they retired to their seats,
uttering a loud noise, which, by patting the mouth rapidly with the hand, was broken into a succesiont of
similar sounds, somewhbt like the hurried barking of
a dog. Several sets of dancers succeeded, each terminating as the first.
  " In the intervals of the dances, a warrior would step
forward and strike a flag-staff they had erected with
a stick, whip, or other weapon, and recount his martial
deeds. This ceremony is called " striking the post,"*
and whatever is then said, may be relied on as truth,
being delivered in th3 presence of many a jealous warrior and witness, who could easily detect, and would
immediately disgrace the striker, for exaggeration and  -
falsehood.  This is called the beggar's dance, during
which some presents are always expected by the performers, as tobacco, whisky, or trinkets. But, on this
occasion, as none of these articles were immediately
offered, the amusement was not, at first, distinguished
by much activity. The master of ceremonies continu*Of this an explanation will hereafter be given.
316
APPENDIX.
ally called aloud to them to exert themselves; but still
they were somewhat dull and backward.     letan (the
master of ceremonies) now stepped forward and lashed
a post with his whip, declaring that he would thus
punish those who would not dance.
  "This threat, from one whom they had vested with
authority for this occasion, had a manifest effect upon
his auditors, who were presently highly wrought up by
the sight of two or three little mounds of tobacco twists,
which were now laid before them, and appeared to infuse new life. After lashing the post, and making his
threat, letan went on to relate his martial exploits.
He had stolen horses, seven or eight times, from the
Konzas; he had first struck the bodies of three of that
nation slain in battle. He had stolen horses from the
letan nation, and had struck one of their dead. He
had stolen horses from the Pawnees, and struck the
body of one Pawnee Loup.      He had stolen horses,
several times, from the Omawhaws, and once from the
Pimcas. Ile had struck the bodies of two Sioux. On
a war party, in company with the Pawnees, he had
attacked the Spaniards, and penetrated into one of their
camps. The Spaniards, except a man and a boy, fled.
He was at a distance before his party, and was shot at
and missed by the man, whom     lie immediately shot
down and struck.'This, my fither,' said he,'is the
only martial act of my life that I am ashamed of.'
  "After several rounds of dancing, and of striking at
the post, the Miaketa, or the Little Soldier, a war-worn
veteran, took his turn to strike the post. He leaped
actively about, and strained his voice to the utmost
pLtch, while lie portrayed some of the scenes of blood
in which he had acted. He had struck dead bodies of
all the red nations around, Osages, Konzas, Pawnee
Loups, Pawnee Republicans, Grand Pawnees, Puncas,
Omawhaws, Sioux, Paducas, La Plais or Baldheads,
letans, Sacs, Foxes, and loways. He had struck eight
of one nation, seven of another, etc. He was proceeding with his account, when Ietan ran up to him, put his
hand upon his mouth, and respectfully led him to his
seat. This act was no trifling compliment paid to the
3f17
xxviii BIO GRAPH Y OF THE A UTHOR.

boat—landing, at Schlosser, on the Niagara, and, after arriving
there, went into the river to bathe. It had been his habit, for
years, to take long walks and bathe in cold water, daily; His
clothes were found on the dock, where he had prepared for bath-
ing; and he was never seen afterwards in life. Being very weak,
he may have been suddenly chilled and cramped, or borne out
too far by a strong current, and so carried over the Falls. His
body was found in an eddy on the American side, near the
mouth of the river, four days after, and interred in the Niagara
Fort burying-ground. Subsequently his remains were removed
to Kentucky, and funeral services performed in his church, in
Maysville, by the Rev. Messrs. Worrall, Coons, and Scudder, of
the Presbyterian Church; Rev. Mr. Nash, of the Episcopal, and
Rev. Mr. Bayless, of the Methodist Church. A very able sermon
was preached by Mr. Worrall, before one of the largest audiences
ever assembled in the city, from part of the 17th verse and 48th
chapter of Jeremiah, “How is the strong staff broken, and the
beautiful rod!” After the ceremonies were concluded, a long
and sorrowing procession followed, and consigned his body to its
last resting-place, in his native county, near the city, on the banks
of the Ohio.

He left a wife, one son, and three daughters, to mourn him.
Mrs. McClung survived only till the 28th December, 1860, when
she died at St. Paul, Minnesota.

The shock of such a death was fearful throughout the com-
munity, and there was mourning in the land. A great and good
man had fallen in Israel. A dispensation, so sudden and severe,
was felt to be mysterious indeed. In his 55th year, in the ma-
turity of his powers, and of his wide usefulness, he had been
stricken down, by an accident, in an hour, far from family, and
home, and friends, and gathered to his rest. Yet he had lived
long enough to reach eminent distinction as student, scholar,
lawyer, statesman, and divine, and to do a great work for his
fellow-men.

In person he was tall, and of striking presence. His carriage
was not graceful, though free; for he had the angular motions
of a student, walking erectly and rapidly, with a long, swinging
stride, and an independent, oftentimes abstracted air. His fore-
head was broad, prominent, and massive, with heavy brows arch-
ing widely over his-deep, dark-brown, expressive eyes; mouth
large, chin square and firm; and his whole face full of mental
power, earnestness, and resolution.

APPENDIX.
well-known brave. It indicated, that he had still so
many glorious acts to speak of that he would occupy so
much time as to prevent others from speaking, and put
to shame the other warriors by the contrast of his actions with theirs.
  "Their physical action is principally confined to
leaping a small distance from the ground, with both
feet, the body being slightly inclined; and, upon alighting, an additional slight but sudden inclination of the
body is made, so as to appear like a succession of jerks;
or the feet are raised alternately, the motions of the
body being the same.   Such are their movements, in
which the whole party corresponds; but in the figures,
as they are termed in our assembly rooms, each individual performs a separate part, and each part is a
significant pantomimic narrative. In all their variety
of action they are careful to observe the musical cadences. In this dance, letan represents one who was
in the act of stealing horses. He carried a whip in his
hand, as did a considerable number of the Indians, and
around his neck were thrown several leather thongs,
for bridles and halters, the ends of which trailed on
the ground behind him.
   "After many preparatory maneuvers, he stooped down
and, with his knife, represente(l the act of cutting the
hopples of horses; he then rode his tomahawk as childrenl ride their broomsticks, making such use of his
whip as to indicate the necessity of rapid movement,
lest his foes should overtake him. Wa-sa-ba-jing-ga, or
Little Black Bear, after a variety of gestures, threw
several arrows, inl succession, over his head, thereby
indicating his familiarity with the flight of such missiles; he, at the same time, covered his eyes with his
hand, to indicate that he was blind to danger. Others
represented their maneuvers in battle, seeking their
enemy, discharging at him their guns and arrows,
etc., etc. Most of the dancers were the principal warriors of the nation, men who had not condescended
to amuse themselves or others, in this manner, for
years before; but they now appeared in honor of the
occasion, and to conciliate, in their best manner, the
318
A PPENDIX.
good will of the representative of the government of
the Big-Knives.*
  "Among these veteran warriors, Ietan, or Shamonekussee, Hashea, the Broken Arm, commonly called Cutnose, and Wa-sa-ba-jing-ga, or Little Black Bear, three
youthful leaders, in particular attracted our attention.
In consequence of having been appointed soldiers, on
this occasion, to preserve order, they were painted entirely black. The countenance of the former indicated
much wit, and had, in its expression, something of the
character of that of Voltaire. He frequently excited
the mirth of those about him by his remarks and gestures. Hashea, called Cutnose, in consequence of having lost the tip of his nose, in a quarrel with letan,
wore a handsome robe of white wolf-skin, with an appendage behind him called a crow. This singular decoration is a large cushion, made of the skin of a crow,
stuffed with any light material, and variously ornamented. It has two decorated sticks projecting from
it upward, and a pendant one beneath. This apparatus
is secured, upon the buttocks, by a girdle passing round
the body.
  "The other actors in the scene were decorated with
paints of several colors, fantastically disposed upon their
persons. Several were painted with white clay, which
had the appearance of being grooved, in many places.
This grooved appearance is given by drawing the fingernails over the part, so as to remove the pigment from
thence in parallel lines. These lines are either rectilinear, undulated, or zigzag: sometimes passing over
the forehead transversely, or vertically; sometimes in
the same directions, or obliquely, over the whole visage,
or upon the breast, arms, etc. Many were painted
with red clay, in which the same lines appeared. A
number of them had the representation of a black hand,
with outspread fingers, on different parts of the body,
strongly contrasted with the principal color with which
the body was overspread. The hand was depicted in
  S The appellation by which the Indians distinguish the whites
of the United States.
           29
319
APPENDIX.
different positions upon the face, breast, and back. The
faces of others were colored one-half black and the
other white, etc.
  "Many colored their hair with red clay; but the
eyelids and base of the ears were generally tinged with
vermilion. At the conclusion of the ceremony, whisky,
which they always expect on similar occasions, was
produced, and a small portion given to each. The
principal chiefs, of the different nations, who had remained passive spectators of the scene, now directed
their people to return to their camp. The word of the
chiefs was obeyed, except by a few of the loways, who
appeared to be determined to keep their places, notwithstanding the reiterated command of the chiefs.
letan now sprang toward them, with an expression of
much ferocity in his countenance, and, it is probable,
a tragic scene would have been displayed had not the
chiefs requested him to use gentle means, and thus he
succeeded, after which the chiefs withdrew."*
                     EMBASSIES.
  Charlevoix says, "In their treaties for peace, and
generally in all their negotiations, they discover a dexterity and a nobleness of sentiment which would do
honor to the most polished nations."t A specimen of
the mode of negotiating peace, among the Missouri
Indians, which I shall extract from Major Long's
Journal, will, in a considerable degree, sustain the fboregoing remark of Charlevoix: it will also convey an
idea of the formalities observed, on that occasion, with
greater accuracy than any general observations.
   " During the stay of our detached party at the Konza
village, several chief men of the nation requested Mr.
Dougherty to lead a deputation, from them, to their
enemies, the Ottoes, Missouries, and Ioways, then
dwelling in one village on the Platte. Circumstances
then prevented the gratification of their wishes, but he
gave them to understand, that if the deputation should
320
* Vol. 1, page 153.
t Charlevoix, p. 167.
A PPEND IX.
meet our party near Council Bluff, he would probably
then be authorized to bear them company: on which
they determined to send a party thither. Accordingly, on
the day preceding the arrival of' our steamboat at the
position chosen for our winter cantonment, a deputation
from the Konzas arrived for that purpose. It consisted
of six men, lead by Herochche, or the Red War Eagle,
one of the principal warriors of the Konza nation.
  " Mr. Dou2herty having made known their pacific
mission to Major O'Fallon, the latter expressed to them
his cordial approbation of their intentions, and the
following day he dispatched Mr. Dougherty with them,
to protect them, by his presence, on their approach to
the enemy; and to assist them, by his mediation, in
their negotiations, should it be found necessary.
   " The distance of the Otto village is about twentyfive miles. On the journey over the prairies, they espied an object at a distance, which wa.s mistaken for
a man standing upon an eminence. The Indians immediately halted, when Herochche addressed them with
the assurance that they must put their trust in the
Master of Life, and in their leaders; and observed, that
having journeyed thus far on their business, they must
not return until their purpose was accomplished; that
if it was their lot to die, no event could save them.
'We have set out, my braves,' said he,'to eat of the
Ottoes victuals, and we must do so or die.' The party
then proceeded onward. The Indians are always very
cautious when approaching an enemy's village, on any:
occasion, and this party well knew that their enterprise
was full of danger.
   " In a short time, they were again brought to a halt
by the appearance of a considerable number of men and
horses, that were advancing toward them. After some
consultation and reconnoitering, they sat down upon the
ground, and lighting the peace pipe or calumet, Herochche directed the stem of it toward the object of their
suspicion, saying:'Smoke, friend or foe.' He then
directed it toward the Otto village, toward the white
people, toward heaven, and toward the earth, successively."
321
APPENDIX.
  The strangers, however, proved to be drovers, with
cattle for the troops, on their way to Council Bluff.
  " In consequence of being thus detained, it was late
in the afternoon when the party arrived at the Platte
River, and as they had still eighteen miles to travel,
and it was indispensable to their safety that they should
reach the village before dark, Mr. Dougherty urged his
horse rapidly forward. The Indians, who were all on
foot, ran the whole distance, halting but twice, in order
to cross the Elkhorn and Platte Rivers, although one
of them was upwards of sixty years of age, and three
of the others were m'uch advanced in years.
   "As they drew near the Otto village, they were discovered by some boys who were collecting their horses
together for the night, and who, in a telegraphic
manner, communicated intelligence of their approach
to the people of the village, by throwing their robes
into the air.
   "The party was soon surrounded by the inhabitants,
who rushed toward them, riding, and running with the
greatest impetuosity. The greatest confusion.reigned
for some time, the Ottoes, shouting, hallooing, and
screaming, while their Kouza visitors lamented aloud.
Shamonekussee soon arrived, and restored a degree of
order, when the business of the mission being made
known in a few words, the Konzas were taken up, behind some of the horsemen, and conveyed as rapidly as
possible to the lodge of Shonga-Tongo, lest personal violence should be offered them on the way. They did
not, however, escape the audible maledictions of the
squaws, as they passed, but were stigmatized as
wrinkled-faced old men with hairy chins, and ugly
faces, and flat noses.
  " After running this species of gauntlet, they were
quietly seated in the lodge, where they were sure of
protection. A   squaw, however, whose husband had
been recently killed by the Konzas, rushed into the
lodge, with the intention of seeking vengeance by killing one of the embassadors on the spot. She stood
suddenly before Herochche, and seemed a very demon
of fury. She caught his eye, and at the instant, with
822
APPENDIX.
all her strength, she aimed a blow at his breast with a
large knife, which was firmly grasped in her right
hand, and which she seemed confident of sheathilg in
his heart. At that truly hopeless moment, the countenance of the warrior remained unchanged, and even
exhibited no emotion whatever; and when the knife
approached its destination with the swiftness of lightninlg, his eye stood firm, nor were its lids seen to
quiver; so far from recoiling, or raising his arm to
avert the blow, that lie even rather protruded his breast
to meet that death which seemed inevitable, and which
was only averted by the sudden interposition of the
arm of one of her nation, that received the weapon to
the very bone.
   " Thus foiled in her attempt, the squaw was gently
led out of the lodge, and no one offered her violence,
or even harsh reproof. No further notice was taken
of this transaction by either party. Food was then, as
usual, placed before the strangers, and soon after a
warrior entered with a pipe, which he held, while Herochche smoked, saying in a loud voice,'You tell us
you wish for peace; I say I will give you a horse; let
us see which of us will be the liar, you or I.' The
horse was presented to him.
  "The evening, and much of the night, were passed
in friemlndly conversation, respecting the events of the
five years' war which they had wa,ged with each other.
On the following morning, the Konzas were called to
partake of the hospitality of different lodges, while the
principal men of the village were assembled in council,
to deliberate upon the subject of concluding a peace.
  " At noon, the joint and grand council was held in
Crenier's lodge. The Ottoes, Missouries, and Ioways
took their seats around the apartment, with the Konzas in the center. Herochche, whose business it was
first to speak, holding the bowl of the calumet in his
hand, remained immovable for the space of threefiurths of an hour, when he arose, pointed the stem of
the calumet toward each of the three nations successively, then toward heaven, and the earth, after which
he stretched out his arm, with the palm of the hand.
323:
APPENDIX.
toward each of the members in succession. He then
proceeded to shake each individual by the hand, after
which he returned to his place, and renewed the motion of the hand as before.
   "Having performed all these introductory formalities, he stood firm and erect, though perfectly easy and
unconstrained, and with a bold expression of countenance, loud voice, and emphatic gesticulation, he thus
addressed the council:
  "'Fathers, brothers, chiefs, warriors, and brave
men-You are all great men: I am a poor, obscure
individual. It has, however, become my duty to inform you, that the chiefs and warriors of my nation,
some time ago, held a council for the purpose of concerting measures to terminate amicably the cruel and
unwelcome war that has so long existed between us,
and chosen me, all insignificant as I am, to bring you
this pipe which I hold in my hand. I have visited
your village, that we might all smoke from the same
pipe, and eat from the same bowl, with the same spoon,
in token of our future union in friendship.
  "'On approaching your village, my friends and relatives, I thought I had not long to live. I expected
that you would kill me and these poor men who have
followed me. But I received encouragement from the
reflection, that if it should be my lot to die to-day, I
would not have to die to-morrow, and I relied firmly
upon the Master of Life.
  "'Nor was this anticipation of death unwarranted by
precedent; you may recollect that, five winters ago, six
warriors o'f my nation came to you, as I have now
done, and that you killed them all but one, who had
the good fortune to e4cape.   This circumstance was
vivid in my memory when I yesterday viewed your village in the distance; said I, those warriors who preceded me in the attempt to accomplish this desirable
object, although they were greater and more brave than
I, yet they were killed by those whom they came to
conciliate, and why shall I not share their fate? If
so, my bones will bleach near theirs. If, on the contrary, I should escape death, I will visit the bones of
324
APPEXNDIX.
my friends. The oldest of my followers here, was
father-iii-law to the chief of those slaughtered messengers; he is poolr and infirm, and has followed us with
difficulty; his relatives also are poor, and have been
long lamenting the loss of the chief you killed. I hope
you will have pity on him, and give him     moccasins
(meaning a horse) to return home with, for he can not
walk. Two or three others of my companions are also
in want of moccasins for their jouirney homeward.
  "' My friends, we wish for peace, and we are tired
of war. There is a large tract of country intervening
between us, from which, as it is so constantly traversed
by our respective hostile parties, we can not either of
us kill the game in security, to furnish our traders
with peltries. I wish to see a large level road over
that country, connecting our villages together, near
which no one caii conceal himself in order to kill passengers, and that our squaws may be enabled to visit
from village to village in safet, and not be urged, by
fear, to cast off' their packs, and betake themselves to
the thickets, when they see any person on the route.
Our nations have made peace frequently, but a peace
has not been of long duration. I hople, however, that
which we shall now establish, will continue one day,
two (lays, three days, four days, five days. My
friends! what I have told you is true; I was not sent
here to tell you lies. That is all I have to say.'
  "Herochche then lit his pipe, and presented the stem
to the brother of the Crenier, Wasacaruja, or, he who
eats raw, who had formerly been his intimate friend.
The hitter held the end of the stem in his hand, while
he looked Herochche iill in the face for a considerable
space of time. At length, he most emphatically asked,
'Is all true that you have spoken?' The other, striking
himself repeatedly and forcibly upon the breast, answered with a loud voice,' Yes, it is all truth that I
have spoken.' Wasacaraja, without any further hesitation, accepted the proffered pipe, and smoked, while
Herochche courteously held the bowl of it in his hand;
the latter warrior then held it in succession to each
member of council, who respectively took a whiff o$
325
APPENDIX.
two, after which the pipe itself was presented to Wasacaruja to retain.
   "It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the
energy and propriety with which this speech was delivered, or of the dignity and self-possession of the
speaker.   Before he commenced, he hesitated, and
looked around upon his enemies, probably in order to
trace in the lineaments of their countenances, the expressions of their feelings toward him. He then began
his address, by raising his voice at once to its full intonation, producing a truly powerful effect upon the
ear, by a contrast with the deep and lonlg-continued silence which preceded it. He was at no loss for subject
or fbor words, but proceeded right onwards to the close
of his speech, like a fall-flowing impetuous stream.
  " Wasacaruja, in consequence of having first accepted
of the calumnet, was now regarded as responsible for the
sincerity of his friend Herochche, He, therefore arose,
and thus addressed the embassador--'AMy friend! I
am glad to see you on such an occasion as the present,
and to hear that your voice is for peace.     A  few
winters ago, when we were in friendship with each
other, I visited youlr village, and you gave me all your
people, saying that all the Kouzas were mine. But it
was not long afterward, as we hunted near your
country, that you stole our horses, and killed some of
our people, and I can not but believe that the same
coui'se will be again pursued. Nevertheless, I shall
again repair to the saime place of which I have
spoken this autumn, for the purpose of hunting, and
in the spring I will again visit your town. You observed that you were apprehensive of being killed as
you approached our village, and you most probably
would have been so, coming as you did, late in the evening, and without the usual formality of sending a
messenger to apprize us of your approach, had you not
been accompanieJl by the Big Knife, with whom you
are so well acquainted. But we have now smoked together, and I hope that the peace thus established may
long continue. You say that you are in want of moc826
A PPENDIXY.
casins;' we will endeavor to give you one or two for
your journey home. That is all I have to say.'
   " Herochche then apologized for his unceremonious
entrance into the village, by saying, that he knew it
was customary to sendmi forward a runner, on such an
occasion, and he should have done so, but his friend,
the Big Knife, whom he had previously consulted with
that view, told him that he had full coinfidence in the
magnanimity of the Ottoes. Thus the ceremony was concluded, and peace restored between the two nations."*
                 WAR AXPEDITIONS.
  In this number we shall give a few striking instances
of the dexterity and address, as well as the devoted courage, which frequently distinguish their conduct in war.
  "In the year 1763, Detroit, ~ontaining a British
garrison of three hundred men, commanded by Major
Gladwyn, was besieged by a confederacy of Indian
tribes under Pontiac, an Ottoway chief, who displayed
such a boldness in his designs, such skill in negotiation,
and such personal courage in war, as to justify us in
considering him one of the greatest men who have ever
appeared among the Indian tribes of North America.
He was the decided and constant enemy of the British
government, and excelled all his contemporaries in both
mental and bodily vigor. His conspiracy for making
himself master of the town of Detroit, and destroying
the garrison, although frustrated, is a master-piece
among Indian stratagems; and his victory over the
British troops at the battle of Bloody Bridge, stands unparalleled in the history of Indian wars, for the decision and steady courage by which it was, in an open
fight, achieved.
   "As, at the time above mentioned, every appearance
of war was at an end, and the Indians seemed to be on
a friendly footing, Pontiac approached Detroit without
exciting any suspicions in the breast of the governor,
or the inhabitants. He encamped at a little distance
from it, and let the commandant know that he was
              " Long's Journal, vol. i, p. 310.
327
BIOGRAPHY OF THE A UTH OR. . xxix

In no aspect was he an ordinary man. Nature and education
had fitted him for high trusts, and worthily did he fill them.
His career in the law displayed, in clearest light, a master quality
of his being—the spirit of justice. His sense of truth and right
was so absolute, and his courage so superior to intimidation, that
he recognized and guarded, with highest courtesy, the rights of
others. A firm will and unbending purpose gave him weighty
influence with his associates,,and a rigid control over himself.
Penetrating insight into human motive, and large powers of ob-
servation and generalization, rendered his views of life philo-
sophic, and his opinions of public men and measures sagacious
and sound.

Although he wandered long and far from the sublime Way to
which he was early called, twenty years of secular life succeed-
ing exhibited such high qualities of head and heart, so elevated
him to conspicuous position among men, and commanded their
confidence, that his return to his sacred office, in the providence
of God, signalized far more strikingly his testimony to truth, and
may have wrought out more of good to man and glory to God,
than would have resulted from an unbroken ministry. And
that very experience no doubt operated to the elevation of his
spiritual life, and to a more devoted and blessed consecration to
his Master’s cause.

APPENDIX.
come to trade; and being desirous of brightening the
chain of p,~ace between the English and his nation,
desired that he and his chiefs might be admitted to
hold a couucil with him. The governor, still unsuspicious, and not in the least doubting the sincerity of
the Indian, granted their general's request, and fixed
on the next morning for their reception.
   "On the evening of that day, an Indian woman who
had been appointed by Major Gladwyn to make a pair
of Indian shoes, out of a curious elk-skin, brought
them   home. The major was so pleased with them,
that, intending these as a present for a friend, he ordered her to take the remainder back, and make it
into others for himself. He then directed is servant
to pay her for those she had done, and dismissed her.
The woman went to the door that led to the street, but
no further; she there loitered about as if she had not
finished the business on which she came. A servant
at length observed her, and asked her why she staid
there. She gave him, however, no answer.
  "Some short time after, the governor himself saw
her, and inquired of his servant what occasioned her
stay. Not being able to get a satisfactory answer, he
ordered the woman to be called in. When she came
into his presence, he desired to know what was the
reason of her loitering about, and inot hastening home
betore the gates were shut, that she might complete in
due time the work he had given her to do. She told
him, after much hesitation, that as he had always behave(d with great goodness toward her, she was unwilling to take away the remainder of the skin, because
he put so great a value upon it; and yet had not been
able to prevail upon herself to tell him so. He then
asked her why she was more reluctant to do so now
than she had been when she made the former pair.
With increased reluctance she answered, that she
should never be able to bring them back.
   "His curiosity was now excited, and he insisted on her
disclosing the secret that seemed to be struggling in her
bosom for utterance. At last, on receiving a promise
that the intelligence she was about to give him should
328
    CD
                             41                    --- --
              I II'-t,                             xi-'-, io,    i,I                                          ___
APPENDIX.
not turn to her prejudice, and that, if it appeared to
be beneficial, she should be rewarded fi,r it, she informed him, that at the council to be held with the Indians the fbllowing day, Pontiac and his chiefs intended
to murder him; and, after having massacred the garrison and inhabitants, to plunder the town. That for
this purpose, all the chiLf who were to be admitted
into the council-room had cut their guns short, so that
they could conceal them under their blankets; with
which on a signal given by their general, on delivering
the belt, they were all to rise up, and instantly to file
on him and his attendants. Having effected this, they
were immediately to rush into the town, where they
would find themselves supported by a great number of
their warriors, that were to come into it during the
sitting of the council under the pretense of trading,
but privately armed in the same manner. Having
gained from the woman every necessary particular relative to the plot, and also the means by which she acquired a knowledge of them, he dismissed her with injunctions of secrecy, and a promise of fulfilling on his
part, with punctuality, the engagements he had entered
into.
  "The intelligence the governor had just received
gave him great uneasiness; and he immediately consulted the officer who was next him in command, on
the subject. But this gentleman, considering the information as a story invented for some artful purpose, advised him to pay no attention to it. This conclusion,
however, had happily no weight with him. He thought
it prudent to conclude it to be true, till he was convinced that it was not so; and therefore, without revealing his suspicions to any other person, he took every
needlful precaution that the time would admit of. He
walked around the fort the whole night, and saw himself, that every sentinel was upon duty, and every
weapon of defence in proper order.
  " As he traversed the ramparts that lay nearest to
the Indian camp, he he:ard them in high festivity, and
little imagining that their plot was discovered, probably pleasing themselves with the anticipation of suc329
APPENDIX.
cess. As soon as the morning dawned, he ordered all
the garrison under arms, and then, imparting his apprehension to a few of the principal officers, gave them
such directions as he thought necessary. At the same
time he sent round to all the traders, to inform them,
that as it was expected a great number of Indians
would enter the town that day, who might be inclined
to plunder, he desired they would have their arms
ready, and repel any attempt of that kind.
   " About ten o'clock, Pontiac and his chiefs arrived,
and were conducted to the council chamber, where the
governor and his principal officers, each with pistols in
his belt, awaited his arrival. As the Indians passed
on, they could not help observing that a greater number of troops than usual were drawn up on the parade,
or marching about. No sooner were they entered and
seated on the skins prepared for them, than Pontiac
asked the governor, on what occasion his young men,
meaning the soldiers, were thus drawn up and parading
the streets. He received for answer, that it was only
intended to keep them perfect in their exercise.
   "The Indian chief-vwarrior now began his speech,
which contained the strongest professions of friendship
and good-will toward the English; and when he came
to the delivery of the belt of wampum, the particular
mode of which, according to the woman's information,
was to be the signal for the chiefs to fire, the governor
and all his attendants drew their swords half way out
of their scabbards; and the soldiers at the same instant made a clattering with their arms before the
doors, which had been purposely left open. Pontiac,
though one of the bravest of men, immediately turned
pale and trembled; and instead of giving the belt in
the manner proposed, delivered it according to the
usual way. His chiefs, who had impatiently expected
the signal, looked at each other with astonishment, but
continued quiet, waiting the result.
   " The governor, in his turn, made a speech, but instead of thanking the great warrior for the professions
of friendship ho had just uttered, he accused him of
being a traitor. He told him that the English, who
330
APPENDIX.
knew every thing, were convinced of his treachery and
villainous designs; and as a proof that they were acquainted with his most secret thoughts and intentions,
he stepped towards an Indian chief' that sat nearest to
him, and drawing aside the blanket, discovered the
shortened firelock. This entirely disconcerted the Indians, and frustrated their design.
  " He then continued to tell them that, as he had
given his word, at the time they desired an audience,
that their persons should be safe, he would hold his
promise inviolable, though they so little deserved it.
However, he desired them to make the best of their
way out of the fort, lest his young men, on being acquainted with their treacherous purposes, should cut
every one of them to pieces.
  " Pontiac endeavored to contradict the accusation,
and to make excuses for his suspicious conduct; but
the governor, satisfied of the falsity of his protestations,
would not listen to him. The Indians immediately left
the fort; but, instead of being sensible of the governor's generous behavior, they threw off the mask, and
the next (lay made a regular attack upon it."
  Major Gladwyn has not escaped censure for this
mistaken lenity: for, probably, had he kept a few of the
principal chiefs prisoners, while he had them  in his
power, he might have been able to have brought the
whole confederacy to terms, and prevented a war. But
he atoned for his oversight by the gallant defense he
made for more than a year, amidst a variety of discouragements.                         *
  "Duringu that period some very smart skirmishes
happened between the besiegers and garrison, of which
the following was the principal and most bloody: Captain Delzel, a brave officer, prevailed on the governor
to give him the command of about two hundred men,
and to permit him to attack the enemy's camp. This
being complied with, he sallied from the town before
daybreak; but Pontiac, receiving from some of his
swift-footed warriors, who were constantly employed in
watching the motions of the garrison, timely intelligence of their deisgn, collected the choicest of his
331
APPENDIX.
troops, and met the detachment at some distance from
his camp, near a place since called Bloody Bridge. As
the Indians were vastly superior in number to Captain Delzel's party, he was soon overpowered and driven
back. Being now nearly surrounded, he made a vigorous effort to regain the bridge he had just crossed,
by which alone he could find a retreat; but in doing
this, he lost his life, and many of his men fell with
him. However, Major Rogers, the second in command,
assisted by Lieutenant Graham, fbond means to draw
off the shattered remains of their little army, and conducted them into the fbrt.
  "Then, considerably reduced, it was with difficulty
the major could defend the town, notwithstanding
which, he held out against the Indians till he was relieved; as after this they made but4 few attacks upon
the place, and only continued to blockade it. The
Gladw yn schooner arrived about this time near the
town, with a reinforcement, and necessary supplies.
But before this vessel could reach the place of its destination, it was most vigorously attacked by a detachment from Pontiac's army. The Indians surrounded it
in their canoes, and made great havoc among the crew.
  "At length, the captain of the schooner, with a considerable number of his crew, being killed, and the
savages beginning to climb up the sides from every
quarter, the lieutenant, being determined that the stores
should not fall into the enemy's hands, and seeing no
alternative, ordered the gunner to set fire to the powder-room and blow the ship up. This order was on the
point of being executed, when a chief of the Hurons,
who understood the English language, gave out to his
friends the intention of the commander. On receiving
this intelligence, the Indians hurried down the sides of
the ship with the greatest precipitation and got as far
from it as possible; while the commander immediately
took advantage of their consternation, and arrived without any further obstruction at the town.
   "This seasonable supply gave the garrison fresh
spirits; and Pontiac, being now convinced that it
would not be in his power to reduce the place, pro332
APPENDIX.
posed an accommodation. The governor, wishing much
to get rid of such troublesome enemies, listened to his
proposals, and having procured advantageous terms,
agreed to a peace." *
  The massacre of the garrison of Michilimackinac,
which occurred also in the year 1763, while it exhibits
one of the most shocking instances of Indian barbarity,
is at the same time a striking proof of the sagacity
and dissimulation of the Indian character. It appears
from the very interesting account given of this transaction by Henry, who Nwas an eye-.witness, " that the
Indians were in the habit of playing at a game called
Bag-gat-iway, which is played with a ball and a bat on
the lprinciples of our foot-ball, and decided by one of
the parties heaving the ball beyond the goal of their
adversaries. The king's birthday, the fourth of June,
having arrived, the Sacs and Chip)peways, who were encamped in great numbers around the fort, turned out
upon the green, to play at this game for a high wager,
and attracted a number of the garrison and traders to
witness the sport. The game of bag-gat-iway is necessarily attended with much violence and noise. In the
ardor of contest, the ball, if it can not be thrown to
the goal desired, is struck or thrown in any direction
by which it can be diverted from that designed by the
adversary.
  " At such a moment, therefore, nothing could be less
liable to excite premature alarm, than that the ball
should be tossed over the pickets of the fort, nor, having fallen there, that it should be followed on the instant
by all engaged in the game, as well the one party as
the other, all eager, all struggling, all shouting, in the
unrestrained pursuit of a rude athletic exercise. Nothing, therefore, could be more happily devised, under the
circumstances, then a stratagem like this; and it was
in fact the stratagem which the Indians employed to
obtain possession of the fort, and by which they were
enabled to slaughter and subdue its garrison, and such
of the other inhabitants as they pleased. To be still
  "; I have extracted this narrative of Pontiac's attempt on Detroit, from Mr. Schooleraft, who takes it from Carver's Travels.
333
334                 APPENDIX.
more certain of success, they had prevailed on as many
as they could, by a pretext the least liable to suspicion,
to come voluntarily without the pickets; and particularly the commandant and garrison themselves. The
Indians, after butchering the garrison, burnt down the
fort."
        ADDITIONAL SKETCHES
                        OF
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
      THE WETZELS.-LEWIS WETZEL.
  [The sketch below is believed to be the most full and accurate ever compiled of Lewis Wetzel, the famous Indian hunter.
It embraces, and mainly in their language, all the particulars
found in the various accounts given of hinm by the following
writers, or narrators of frontier history, viz: John McDonald,
Joseph Pritts, Charles Cist, Major Jacob Fowler, Wills DeHass,
John Rodefer, sen., and Joseph Doddridge. The name is frequently, but incorrectly, spelled Whetzel, Whetzell, or Whitzell.]
LEWIS WETZEL wals regarded by many of the
    settlers in the neighborhood of Wheeling, Virginia,
bet,N%een the years 1782 and 1795, as the right arm of
their defense. His preseice was considered as a tower
of strength to the infant settlements, and an object of
terror to the fierce and restless savages who prowled
about and depredated upon our frontier homes. The
memory of Wetzel shotlld be embalmed in the hearts
of the people of Western Virginia; for his efforts in
defense of their forefathers were without a parallel in
border warfare. Among the foremost and most devoted,
he plunged into the fearful strife which a bloody and
relentless foe waged againlst the feeble colonists. He
threw into the common treasury a soul as heroic, as
adventurous, as full of energy, and exhaustless of resources, as ever animated the human breast. Bold, wary,
and active, he stood without an equal in the pursuit
        30                             (335)
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
to) which he had committed himself, mind and body.
No man on the western frontier was more dreaded by
the enemy, and none did more to beat him back into
the heart of the forest, and reclaim the expanseless
domain which we now enljoy. He was never known to
inflict unwonted cruelty upon women and children, as
has been charged upon him; and he never was found to
torture or mutilate his victim, as many of the traditions
would indicate. He was revengeful, because he had suffered deep injury at the hands of that race, and woe to
the InJlian warrior who crossed his path. He was literally a man without fear. He was brave as a lion, cunning as a fox; " daring where daring was the wiser part
-prudent when discretion was valor's better self." He
seemed to possess, in a remarkable degree, that intuitive knowledge which can alone constitute a good and
efficient hunter, added to which, he was sagacious,
prompt to act, and always aimiing to render his actions
efficient. Such was Lewis Wetzel, the celebrated Indian hunter of Western Virginia.
  John Wetzel, the father of Lewis, was one of the
first settlers on Wheeling Creek. He had five sons and
two daughters, whose names were, respectively, Martin,
Lewis, Jacob, John, George, Susan, an(d Christitia.
  The elder Wetzel speint much of his time in locating
lands, hunting, and fishing. His neighbors frequently
admonished him against exposing himself thus to the
enemy; but, disregarding their advice, and laughing at
their fears, he continued to widen the range of his excursions, until finally he fell a victim to the active
vigilance of the tawny foe. He was killed near Captina, in 1787, on his return from Middle Island Creek,
under the following circumstances: Himself and companion were in a canoe, paddling slowly near the shore,
when they were hailed by a party of Indians, and ordered to land. This they of course refused, when imniediately they were fired upon, and Wetzel shot
through the body. Feeling himself mortally wounded,
he directed his companion to lie down in the canoe,
while he (Wetzel), so long as strength remained, would
paddle the frail vessel beyond reach of the savages. In
336
LEWIS WETZEL.
this way he saved the life of his friend, while his own
was ebbing fast. He died soon after reaching the shore,
at Baker's Station, and his humble grave can still be
seen near the site of that primitive fortress. A rough
stone marks the spot, bearing, in rude but perfectly
distinct characters, "J. W., 1787."
  At the time of his father's death, Lewis was about
twenty-three years of age, and, in common with his
brothers, or those who were old enough, swore sleepless
vengeance against the whole Indian race. Terribly did
he and they carry that resolution into effect From that
time forward, they were devoted to the woods; and an
Indian, whether in peace or war, at night or by day,
was a doomed man in the p)resence of either. The name
of Wetzel sent a thrill of horror through the heart of
the stoutest savage, before w\hom a more terrible image
could not he conjured up than one of these relentless
" Long-knives."
  The first event worthy of record, in the life of our
hero, occurred when he was about fourteen years of age.
The Indians had not been very troublesome in the immediate vicinity of his father's, and no great apprehensions were felt, as it was during a season of comparative
quietude. On the occasion referred to, Lewis had just
stepped from his father's door, and was looking at his
brother Jacob playing, when suddenly turning toward
the corn-crib, he saw a gun pointing around the corner.
Quick as thought he jumped back, but not in time to
escape the ball; it took effect upon the breast-bone,
carrying away a small portion, and cutting a fearful
wound athwart the chest. In an instant, two athletic
warriors sprang from behind the crib, and quietly making prisoners of the lads, bore them off without being
discovered. On the second day they reached the Ohio,
and crossing near the mouth of McMahan's Creek,
gained the Big Lick, about twenty miles from the river.
During the whole of this painful march, Lewis suffered
severely from his wound, but bore up with true courage, knowing that if he complained the tomahawk would
be his doom. That night, on lying down, the Indians,
contrary to their custom, failed to tie their prisoners.
S337
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
Lewis now resolved to e,cape; and, in the course of an
hour or two, satisfying himself that the Indians were
asleep, touched Jacob, and both arose without disturbing their captors. Lewis, leading the way, pushed into
the woods. Finding, however, that he could not travel
without moccasins, he returned to camp, and soon came
back with two pair, which having fitted on, Lewis said,
"Now I must go back for father's gun," which the
Indians had ca:rried off. Securing this, the two boys
started in the direction of home.  Finding the path,
they traveled on briskly for some time; but hearing a
noise, listened, and ascertained the Indians were in pursuit. The lads stepped aside as the pursuers came up,
and then again moved on. Soon they heard the Indians
return, and by the same plan effectually eluded them.
Before daylight they were again followed by two on
horseback, but, resorting to a similar expedient, readily
escaped detection. On the following day, about eleven
o'clock, the boys reached the Ohio, at a point opposite
Zane's Island. Lashing together two logs, they crossed
over, and were once more with their friends.
   Shortly after Crawford's defeat, a man named Thomas
Mills, in escaping from that unfortunate expedition,
reached the Indian Spring, about nine miles from
Wheeling, on the present National Road, where he
was compelled to leave his horse, and proceed to Wheeling on foot. Thence he went to Van Metre's Fort, and,
after a day or two of rest, induced Lewis Wetzel to go
with him to the spring for his horse. Lewis cautioned
him against the danger, but Mills was determined, and
the two started. Approaching the spring, they discovered the horse tied to a tree, and Wetzel at once
comprehended their danger. Mills walked up to unfasten the animal, when instantly a discharge of rifles follo]wed, and the unfortunate man fell, mortally wounded.
Wetzel now turned, and, knowing his only escape was
in flight, plunged through the enemy, and bounded off
at the very extent of his speed.  Four fleet Indians
followed in rapid pursuit, whooping in proud exultation of soon overhauling their intended victim. After
a chase of half a mile, one of the most active savages
338
LEWIS WETZEL.
approached so close that Wetzel was afraid he might
throw his tomahawk, and, instantly wheeling, shot the
fellow dead in his tracks. In early youth Lewis had
acquired the habit of loading his gun while at a full
run, and now he felt the great advantage of it. Keeping in advance of his pursuers during another half
mile, a second Indian came up, and, turning to fire,
the savage caught the end of his gun, and, for a time,
the contest was doubtfil. At one moment the Indian,
by his great strength and dexterity, brought Wetzel to
his knee, and had nearly wrenched the rifle from the
hands of his antagonist, when Lewis, by a renewed
effort, drew the weapon from the grasp of the savage,
and, thrusting the muzzle against the side of his neck,
pulled the trigger, killing him instantly. The two other
Indians, by this time, had nearly overtaken him; but
leaping forward, he kept ahead, until his unerring rifle
was a third time loaded. Anxious to have done with
that kind of sport, he slackened his pace, and even
stopped once or twice to give his pursuers an opportunity to face him. Every time, however, he looked
round, the Indians treed, unwilling any longer to encounter his destructive weapon. After running a mile
or two farther in this manner, he reached an open piece
of ground, and wheeling suddenly, the foremost Indian
jumped behind a tree, but which not screening his body,
Wetzel fired, and dangerously wounded him. The remaining Indian made an immediate retreat, yelling as
he went, "(No catch dat man, him gun always loaded."
  In the summer of 1786, the Indians having become
troublesome in the neighborhood of Wheeling, particularly in the Short Creek Settlement, and a party having killed a man near Mingo Bottom, it was determined
to send an expedition after the retreating enemy, of
sufficient force to chastise them most effectually.  A
subscription or pony-purse was made up, and one hundred dollars were offered to the man who should bring
in the first Indian scalp. Major McMahan, living at
Beach Bottom, headed the expedition, and Lewis
Wetzel was one of his men. They crossed the river,
on the fifth of August, and proceeded, by a rapid march,
339
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
to the Muskingum. The expedition numbered about
twenty men; and an advance of five were detailed to
reconnoiter.  This party reported to the commander
that they had discovered the camp of the enemy, but
that it was far too numerous to think of making an attack. A consultation was thereupon held, and an imme3iate retreat determined on. During the conference
our hero sat upon a log, with his gun carelessly resting
across his knees. The moment it was resolved to retreat,
most of the party started in disordered haste; but the
commander, observing Wetzel still sitting on the log,
turned to inquire if he was not going along. " No,"
was his sullen reply; " I came out to hunt Indians,
and now that they are found, I am not going home,
like a fool, with my fingers in my mouth. I am determined to take an Indian scalp, or lose my own." All
arguments were unavailing, and there they were compelled to leave him: a lone man, in a desolate wilderness, surrounded by an enemy-vigilant, cruel, bloodthirsty, and of horrid barbarity-with no friend but his
rifle, and no guide but the sure index which an All wise
Providence has deep set in the heavens above. Once
by himself, and looking around, to feel satisfied that
they were all gone, he gathered his blanket about him,
adjusted his tomahawk and scalping-knife, shouldered
his rifle, and moved off in an opposite direction, hoping
that a small partyof Indians might be met with. Keeping
away from the larger streams, he strolled on cautiously,
peering into every dell and suspicious cover, and keenly
sensitive to the least sound of a suspicious character.
Nothing, however, crossed his path that day.     The
night being dark and chilly, it was necessary to have a
fire; but to show a light, in the midst of his enemy,
would be to invite to certain destruction. To avoid this,
he constructed a small coal-pit out of bark, dried leaves,
etc., and covering these with loose earth, leaving an occasional air-hole, he seated himself, encircling the pit
with his legs, and then completed the whole by covering his head with the blanket. In this manner he would
produce a temperature equal, as he expressed it, to that
of a "stove-room."  This was certainly an original and
340
LEWIS WETZEL.
ingenious mode of getting up a fire, without, at the
same time, endangering himself by a light.
  During most of the following day he roamed through
the forest without noticing any "signs" of Indians.
At length smoke was discovered, and going in the direction of it, he found a camp, but tenantless. It contained
two blankets and a small kettle, which Wetzel at once
knew belonged to two Indians, who were, doubtless, out
bunting.   Concealing himself in the matted undergrowth, he patiently awaited the return of the occupants.
About sunset, one of the Indians came in and made up
the fire, and went to cooking his supper. Shortly after,
the other came in.   They ate their supper, and began
to sing, and amuse themselves by telling comic stories,
at which they would burst into roars of laughter.
Singing, and telling amusing stories, was the common
practice of the white and red men, when lying in their
hunting camps. About nine or ten o'clock, one of the
IndiaIns wrapped his blanket around him, shouldered
his rifle, took a chunk of fire in his hand, and left the
camp, doubtless with the intention of going to watch a
deer-lick. The fire and smoke would serve to keep off the
gnats and musquitoes. It is a remarkable fact, that deer
are not alarmed at seeing fire, from the circumstance of
meeting it so frequently in the fall and winter seasons,
when the leaves and grass are dry, and the woods on
fire. The absence of the Indian was a cause of vexation and disappointment to our hero, whose trap was
so happily set, that he considered his game secure.
He still indulged the hope that the Indian would return
to camp befire day, but in this he was disappointed.
There are birds in the woods which commence chirping
just before break of day, and, like the cock, give notice
to the woodman that light will soon appear. Lewis
heard the wooded songsters begin to chatter, and determined to delay no longer the work of death, for the
return of the other Indian. He walked to the camp
with a noiseless step, and found his victim buried in
profound sleep, lying upon one side. He drew his
butcher-knife, and with the utmost force, impelled by
revenge, sent the blade through his heart. He said
341
t VESSTERIN AD VENT URE.
the Indian gave a short quiver, a convulsive motion,
and then laid still in the sleep of death. Lewis scalped
him, and set out for home. He arrived at the Mingo
Bottom only one day after his unsuccessful companions.
He claimed and received the reward.
  A most fatal decoy, on the frontier, was the turkeycall. On several different occasions men, from the fort
at Wheeling, had gone across the hill in quest of a
turkey, whose plaintive cries had elicited their attention,
and, on more than one occasion, the men never returned.
Wetzel suspected the cause, and determined to satisfy
himself. On the east side of the Creek Hill, and at a
point elevated at least sixty feet above the water, there
is a capacious cavern, the entrance to which, at that
time, was almost obscured by a heavy growth of vines
and foliage. Into this the alluring savage would crawl,
and could there have an extensive view of the hill-front
on the opposite side. From that cavern issued the decoy of death to more than one incautious soldier and
settler. Wetzel knew of the existence and exact locality of the cave, and accordingly started out beftre day,
and, by a circuitous route, reached the spot from the
rear. Posting himself so as to command a view of
the opening, he waited patiently for the expected cry.
Directly the twisted tuft of an Indian warrior slowly
rose in the mouth of the cave, and, looking cautiously
about, sent forth the long, shrill, peculiar, "cry," and
immediately sunk back out of view. Lewis screened
himself inl his position, cocked his gun, and anxiously
waited for a re-appearance of the head. In a few
minutes up rose the tuft, Lewis drew a fine aim at the
polished head, and the next instant the brains of the
savage were scattered about the cave.    That turkey
troubled the inhabitants no longer, and tradition does
not say whether the place was ever after similarly occupied.
  A singular custom with this daring borderer was to
take a fall hunt into the Indian country. Equipping
himself, he set out and penetrated to the Muskingum,
and fell upon a camp of four Indians. Hesitating a
moment, whether to attack a party so much his supe342
LEWIS WETZEL.
rior in numerical strength, he determined to make the
attempt. At the hour of midnight, when naught was
heard but the long, dismal howl of the wolf,
        "Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave,
        Burning for blood, bony, gaunt, and grim,"
he moved cautiously from his covert, and, gliding
through the darkness, stealthily approached the camp,
supporting his rifle in one hand, and a tomahawk in
the other.  A dim flicker from the camp-fire faintly
revealed the forms of the sleepers, wrapped in that
profound slumber, which, to part of them, was to know
no waking. There they lay, with their dark faces turned
up to the night-sky, in the deep solitude of their own
wilderness, little dreaming that their most relentless
enemy was hovering over them.     Quietly resting his
gun against a tree, he unsheathed his knife, and, with
an intrepidity that could never be surpassed, stepped
boldly forward like the minister of death, and, quick
as thought, cleft the skull of one of his sleeping victims.
In an instant, a second one was similarly served; and, as
a third attempted to rise, confused by the horrid yells
with which Wetzel accompanied his blows, he too shared
the fate of his companions, and sunk dead at the feet
of his ruthless slayer. The fourth darted into the darkness of the wood and escaped, although Wetzel pursued
him some distance. Returning to camp, he scalped his
victims, and then left for home. When asked, on his
return, what luck? "Not much," he replied. "I treed
four Indians, but one got away."   This unexampled
achievement stamped him as one of the most daring,
and, at the same time, successful hunters of his day.
The distance to and from the scene of this adventure
could not have been less than one hundred and seventy
miles.
  During one of his scouts, in the neighborhood of
Wheeling, our hero took shelter, on a stormy evening,
in a deserted cabin on the bottom, not far from what was
the residence (in 1851) of Mr. Hamilton Woods. Gathering a few broken boards, he prepared a place, in the
loft, to sleep. Scarcely had he got himself adjusted
         31
343
"WESTERN AD VENTURE.
for a nap, when six Indians entered, and, striking a
fire, commenced preparing their homely meal. Wetzel
watched their movements closely, with drawn knife,
determined, the moment he was discovered, to leap into their midst, and, in the confusion, endeavor to escape. Fortunately they did not see him; and, soon
after supper, the whole six fell asleep. Wetzel now
crawled noiselessly down, and hid himself behind a
log, at a convenient distance from the door of the
cabin. At early dawn, a tall savage stepped from the
door, and stretching up both han(ls in a long, hearty
yawn, seemed to draw in new life from the pure, invigorating atmosphere. In an instant \Vetzel had his
finger upon the trigger, and the next moment the Indian fell heavily to the ground, his life's bllood gushing
upon the young grass, brilliant with the morning dewdrops. The report of his rifle had not ceased echoing
through the valley, ere the daring borderer was far
away, secure from all pursuit.
  Some time after General Harmar had erected a fort
at.the mouth of the Muskingum River, where Marietta.
now stands, about 1789, he employed some white men
to go, with a flag, among the nearest Indian tribes, to
prevail with themn to come to the fort, and there to conclude a treaty of peace. A large number of Indians
came, on the general invitation, and encamped on the
Muskingum River, a few miles above its mouth. General Harmar issued a proclamation, giving notice that
a cessation of arms was mutually agreed upon, between
the white and red men, till an effort for a treaty of
peace should be concluded.
  As treaties of peace with Indians had been so frequently violated, but little faith was placed in the stability of such engagements by the frontiersmen; notwithstanding that they were as frequently the aggressors as
were the Indians. Half the backwoodsmen of that day
had been born in a fort, and grew to manhood, as it were,
in a siege. The Indian war had continued so long, and
was so bloody, that they believed war with them was to
continue as long as both survived to fight. With these
impressions, as they considered the Indians faithless, it
344
LEWIS WETZEL.
was difficult to inspire confidence in the stability of
treaties. While General Harmar was diligently engaged
with the Indians, endeavoritig to make peace, Lewis
Wetzel concluded to go to Fort Harmar, and, as the
Indians would be passing and re-passing between their
camp and the fort, he would have a fair opportunity of
killinjg one. He associated widh himself, in this enterprise, a man by the name of Veach Dickerson, who
was only a small grade below him in restless daring.
As soon as the enterprise was resolved on, they were
impatient to put it in execution. The more danger, the
more excited and impatient they were to execute thfeir
plan. They set off without delay, and arrived at the
desired point, and sat themselves down in ambush, near
the path leading from the lbrt to the Indian camp.
Shortly after they had concealed themselves by the wayside, they saw an Indian approaching on horse-hack,
running his horse at full speed. They called to him,
but, owing to the clatter of the horse's feet, he did not
hear or heed their call, but kept on at a sweeping gallop.
When the Jndian had nearly passed, they concluded to
give him a shot as he rode. They fired; but, as the
Indian (lid not fall, they thought they had minsed him.
As the alarm would soon be spread that an Indian had
been shot at, and as large numbers of them were near
at hand, they commenced an immediate retreat to their
home. As their neighbors knew the ubject of their
expedition, as soon as they returned, they were asked,
what luck? Wetzel answered that they had bad luck
-they had seen but one Indian, aiid he on horsebackthat they had fired at him as he rode, but he did not
fall, but went off scratching his back, as if hlie had been
stung by a yellowjacket. The truth was, they had
shot him through the hips and lower part of the belly.
He rode to the fort, and that night expired of his
wound. It proved to be a large, fine-looking savage,
of considerable celebrity, and known by the name of
George Washington.
  It was soon rumored, to General Harmar, that Lewis
Wetzel was the murderer. General Harmar sent a
Captain Kingsbury, with a company of men, to the
345
SKETCHES

OF

WESTERN ADVENTURE.

CHAPTER I.

HE English settlements in North America, until
late in the eighteenth century, were confined to the
country lying east of the Alleghany Mountains. Even
the most adventurous traders from Virginia and
Pennsylvania rarely penetrated beyond the head waters
of the Ohio River; and the spot where Pittsburgh now
stands was, for a long time, an extreme frontier point,
where the white fur—traders and the western Indians
were accustomed to meet and exchange their commod-
ities. All beyond was an unexplored wilderness, which
was known only as occupying certain degrees of latitude
and longitude upon the map. Shortly before the old
French war of 1755, this spot was occupied by the
French and a fort erected, which, in honor of their
commander, was called Du Quesne.

The possession of this fortress was keenly debated
during the earlier years of the war, and was soon ren-
dered memorable by the disastrous expedition of Brad-
dock and Grant. Omitting a regular detail of these
events—which have been often related——we shall com-
mence our desultory history with a detail of’ the ad-
ventures of Col. JAMES SMITH, who subsequently re-
moved to Kentucky, and for many years was a resident

(13)

WESTERN ADVENTURE.
Mingo Bottom, with orders to take Wetzel, alive or
dead-a useless and impotent order. A company of
men could as easily have drawn Beelzebub out of the
bottomless pit, as take Lewis Wetzel, by force, from
the Mingo Bottom settlement. On the day that Captain Kingsbury arrived, there was a shooting-match in
the neighborhood, and Lewis was there. As soon as
the object of Captain Kingsbury was ascertained, it was
resolved to ambush the captain's barge, and kill him
and his company.     Happily Major McMahan was
present to prevent this catastrophe, who prevailed on
Wetzel and his friends to suspend the attack, till he
would pay Captain Kingsbury a visit; perhaps he would
induce him to return without making an attempt to
take Wetzel. With a great deal of reluctance, they
agreed to suspend the attack till Major McMahan
should return. The resentment and firy of Wetzel and
his friends, were boiling and blowing like the st-am
fromn a scape-pipe of a steamboat. "A pretty affair
this," said they, " to hang a man for killing an Indian,
when they are killing some of our men almost every
day."  Major McMahan informed Captain Kingsbury
of the force and futry of the people, and assured him
that, if he persisted in the attempt to seize Wetzel, lie
would have all the settlers in the country upon him;
that nothing could save him and his company from
massacre, but a sp)eedy return. The captain took his
advice, and forthwith returned to Fort Harmar. Wetzel
considered the affair now as finally adjusted.
  As Lewis was never long stationary, but ranged, at
will, along the river from Fort Pitt to the falls of the
Ohio, and was a welcome guest and perfectly at home
wherever he went, shortly after the attempt to seize
him by Captain Kingsbury, he got int.o a canoe, with
the intention of proceeding down the Ohio to Kentucky.
Iie had a friend, by the name of Haimilton Carr, who
had lately settled on the island near Fort Harmar.
Here he stopped, with the view of lodging for the night.
By some means, which never were explained, General
Harmar was advised of his being on the island. A
guard was sent, who crossed to the island, surrounded
346
LEW IS WETZEL.
Mr. Carr's house, went in, and, as Wetzel lay asleep,
he was seized by numbers; his hands and feet securely
bound, and he was hurried off into a boat, and from
thence placed in a guard-room, where he was loaded
with irons.
  The ignominy of wearing iron handcuffs and hobbles,
and being chained down, to a man of his independent
and resolute spirit, was more painful than death.
Shortly after he was confined, he sent for General
Harmnar, and requested a visit.   The general went.
Wetzel admitted, without hesitation, "that he had shot
the Indian." As he did not wish to be hung like a dog,
lie requested the general to give him up to the Indians,
there being a large number of them present. "He
might place them all in a circle, with their scalping
knives aiid toimahawks, and give him a tomahawk and
place him in the midst of the circle, and then let him
and the Iiidians filght it out the best way they could."
The general told him, "that he was an officer appointed
by thme law, by which he must be governed.   As the
law did not authorize him to make such a compromise,
he could not grant his request." After a few da,3s'
longer confinement, he again sent for the general to
come anid see him; and lie did so. Wetzel said "he
had never been confined, and could not live much
longer if he was not permitted some room to walk
about in."
  The general ordered the officer on guard to knock off
his iron fetters, but to leave on his hauldcuf:R, and permit him to walk about on the point at the mouth of
the Muskinguin; but to be sure and keep a close watch
upon him. As soon as they were outside the fort-gate,
Lewis began to caper about like a wild colt broke loose
from the stall. He would start and run a few yards,
as if he was about making an escape, then turn round
anid join the guards. The next start he would run
farther, and then stop. In this way he amused the
guard for some time, at every start running a little
farther.  At length he called forth all his strength,
resolution, and activity, and determined on freedom or
an early grave.   He gave a sudden spring forward,
347
"WEfST_EN ADVENTURE.
and bounded off at the top of his speed for the shelter of
his beloved woods. His movement was so quick, and
so unexpected, that the guards were taken by surprise,
and he got nearly a hundred yards before they recovered from  their astonishment.   They fired, but all
missed; they followed in pursuit, but he soon left them
out of sight. As he was well acquainted with the
country, he made for a dense thicket, about two or three
miles from the fort. In the midst of this thicket, he
found a tree which had fallen across a log, where the
brush was very close. Under this tree he squeezed his
body.   The brush was so thick that he could not be
discovered unless his pursuers examined very closely.
As soon as his escape was announced, General Harmar
started the soldiers and Indians in pursuit. After he
had lain about two hours in his place of concealment,
two Indians came into the thicket, and stood on the
same log under which he lay concealed; his heart beat
so violently he was afraid they would hear it thumping.
He could hear them hallooing in every direction as
they hunted through the brush. At length, as the
evening wore away the day, he found himself alone in
the friendly thicket. But what should he do? His
hands were fastened with iron cuffs and bolts, and he
knew of no friend, on the same side of the Ohio, to
whom he could apply for assistance.
  He had a friend who had recently put up a cabin
on the Virginia side of the Ohio, who, he had lno
doubt, would lend him every assistance in his power.
But to cross the river was the difficulty. He could
not make a raft with his hands bound, and though an
excellent swimmer, it would be risking too much to
trust him.-elf to the stream in.that disabled condition.
With the most gloomy foreboding of the future, he
left the thicket as soon as the shades of night began to
gather, and directed his way to the Ohio, by a circuitous route, which brought him to a lonely spot, three
or four miles below the fort. He made to t1his place,
as he expected guards would be set at every point
where he could find a canoe. On the opposite shore
he saw an acquaintance, Isaac Wiseman by name, fish318
LEWIS WETZEL.
ing in a canoe. Not daring to call to him, as he
could not know whether his enemies were not within
sound of his voice, lie waved his hat for some time to
attract the notice of his friend, having previously induced him to diirect his eye that course by a gentle
splashing in the water. This brought Wiseman to his
assistance, who readily aided his escape. Once on the
Virginia shore, lie had nothing to fear, as he had wellwishers all through the country, who would have shed
blood, if* necessary, for his defense. It was not, however,
until years had elapsed, and General Harmar returned
to Philadelphia, that it became saf'e f,r Wiseman to
avow the act, such was the weakness of civil authority
and the absolute supremacy of military rule on the
frontier. A file and hammer soon released him from
the heavy handcuffs. After the night's rest had recruited
his energies, he set out for fresh adventures, his friend
having supplied him   with a rifle, ammunition, and
blanket. He took a canoe and went down the river fbr
Kentucky, where he should feel safe from the grasp of
Harinar and his myrmidons.
  Subsequently to Wetzel's escape, General Harmar removed his head-quarters to Fort Washington, Cincinnati.
One of his first official acts there, was to issue a proclamation, offering considerab)le rewards for the apprehension and delivery of' Lewis at the garrison there. No
man, however, was found base or daring enough to
attempt this service.
  On his way down, Wetzel landed at Point Pleasant,
and ibllowing his usual humor, when he had no work
among Indians on the carpet, ranged the town, for a
few days, with as much unconcern as if he were on his
own farm. Lieutenant Kingsbury, attached to Harmar's
own command, happened to be at the mouth of the Kenawha at the time, and scouting about, while ignorant
of Wetzel's presence, met him-unexpectedly to both
parties. Lew\is, being generally on the qui vive, saw
Kingsbury first, and halted with great firmness in the
path, leaving to the lieutenant to decide his own course
of procedure, feeling himself prepared and ready,
whatever that might be. Kingsbury, a brave man
349
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
himself, had too much good feeling toward such a gallant spirit as Wetzel to attempt his injury, if it were
even safe to do so. He contented himself with saying,
" Get out of my sight, you Indian killer!" And Lewis,
who was implacable to the savage only, retired slowly
and watchfully, as a lion draws off, measuring his steps
in the presence of the hunters, being as willing to avoid
unnecessary danger as to seek it, when duty called him
to act.
  He regained his canoe and put off for Limestone, at
which place, and at Washington, the county town, he
established his head-quarters for some time. Here he
engaged on hunting parties, or went out with the scouts
after Indians. When not actually engaged in such
service, he filled up his leisure hours at shootingmatches, foot-racing, or wrestling with other hunters.
Major Fowler, of Washington, who knew him well
during this period, described him as a general fahvorite,
no less from his personal qualities than for his services.
  While engaged in these occupations at Maysville,
Lieutenant Lawler, of the regular army, who was going
down the Ohio to Fort Washington, in what was called
a Kentucky boat, full of soldiers, landed at Maysville,
and found Wetzel sitting in one of the taverns. Returning to the boat, he ordered out a file of soldiers, seized
Wetzel and dragged him on board the boat, and, without a moment's delay, pushed off, and that same night
delivered him to General Harmar, at Cincinnati, by
whom the prisoner was again put in irons, preparatory to
his trial and consequent condemnation, for what Lewis
disdained to deny or conceal, the killing of the Indian at
Marietta. But Harmnar, like St. Clair, although acquainted with the routine of military service, was destitute of
the practical good sense, always indispensable in frontier
settlements, in which such severe measures were more
likely to rouse the settlers to flame than to intimidate
them; and soon found the country around him in arms.
  The story of Wetzel's captivity-captured and liable
to punishment for shooting an Indian merely-spread
through the settlements like wild-fire, kindling the
passions of the frontier men to a high pitch of fury.
350
LEVIS IVWETZ11L.
Petitions for the release of Wetzel came in to General
Harmar, from all quarters and all classes of society.
To these, at first, he paid little attention. At length
the settlements along the Ohio, and some even of the
back counties, began to embody in military array to
release the prisoner vi et armis. Representations were
made to Judge Symmes, which induced him to issue a
writ of habeas corpus in the case. John Clawson, and
other hunters of Columbia, who had gone down to attend his trial, went security for Wetzel's good behavior;
and, being discharged, he was escorted with great triumph to Columbia, and treated, at that place, to his
supper, etc.  Judge Foster, who gave these last particulars, described him at this period (August 26th,
1789) as about twenty-six years of age, about five feet
nine inches high.   He was full-breasted, very broad
across the shoulders; his arms were large; skin, darker
than the other brother's; his face, heavily pitted with
the small-pox; his hair, of which he was very careful,
reached, when combed out, to the calves of the legs;
his eyes remarkably black, and, when excited, sparkling with such a vindictive glance as to indicate plainly
it was hardly safe to provoke him to wrath. He was
taciturn in mixed company, although the fiddle of the
party among his social friends and acquaintances. His
morals and habits, compared with those of his general
associates and the tone of society in the West of that
day, were quite exemplary.
  Shortly after his return from Kentucky, a relative,
from Dunkard Creek, invited Lewis home with him.
The invitation was accepted, and the two leisurely
wended their way along, hunting and sporting as they
traveled. On reaching the home of the young man,
what should they see but, instead of the hospitable roof,
a pile of smoking ruins! Wetzel instantly examined the
trail, and found that the marauders were three Indians
and one white man, and that they had taken one
prisoner. That captive proved to be the betrothed of
the young man, whom     nothing could restrain from
pushing on in immediate pursuit. Placing himself under the direction of Wetzel, the two strode on, hoping to
351
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
overhaul the enemy before they had crossed the Ohio.
It was found, after proceeding a short distance, that
the savages had taken great care to obliterate their
trail; but the keen discernment of Wetzel once on the
track, and there need not be much difficulty. lIe knew
th,y would make for the river by the most expeditious
route, and therefore, disregarding their trail, he pushed
on, so as to head them at the crossing-place. After an
hour's hard travel, they struck a path which the deer
had made, and which their sagacity had taught them
to carry over knolls, in order to avoid the great curves
of ravines. Wetzel followed the path because he knew
it was in almost a direct line to the point at which he
was aiming. Night coming on, the tireless and determined hunters partook of a hurried meal, then again
pushed forward, guided by the lamps hung in the
heavens above them, until, toward midnight, a heavy
clou I shut out their light and obscured the path.
Early, on the following morning, they resumeid the
cha-e, and descending from the elevated ridge, along
which they had been passing for an hour or two, f,und
themnselves in a deep and quiet valley, which looked as
though human steps had never before pressed its virgin
soil. Trav-eling a short distance, they discovered fresh
footsteps in the soft sand, and, upon close examination,
the eye of Wetzel's companion detected the impress of
a small shoe, with nail-heads around the heel, which he
at once recognized( as belonging to his affi ancel. Hour
aft'r hour the pursuit was kept up: now tracing the
trail across the hills, over alluvian, and often detecting
it where the wily captors had taken to the beds of
streams. Late in the afternoon, they found themselves
approa,-hing the Ohii(, and, shortly after dark, discovered, as they struck the river, the camp of the enemy
on the opposite side, and just below the mouth of Captina. Swimnming the river, the two reconnoitered the
position of the camp, and di~covered the locality of
the captive. Wetzel proposed waiting until daylight
before m:Iking the attack, but the almost frantic lover
was for iimmediate action. Wetzel, however, would
listen to no suggestion, and thus they waited the break
352
LETVIS WETZEL.
of day. At early dawn, the savages were up and preparing to leave, when Wetzel directed his companion
to take good aim at the white renegade, while he would
make sure work of one of the Indians. They fired at
the same moment, and with fiatal effect. Instantly the
young man ru-hed forward to release the captive; and
Wetzel, reloading, pursued the two Indians w\ho had taken
to the woods to ascertain the strength of the attacking
party. \Vetzel pursued a short distance, and then fired
his rifle at random, to draw the Indians from their retreat. The trick succeeded, and they made alter him
with uplifted tomahawks, yelling at the height of their
voices.  The adroit hunter soon had his rifle loaded,
and wheeling suddenly, discharged its contents through
the body of his nearest pursuer. The other Indian now
rushed impetuously forward, thinki,g to dispatch his
enemy in a moment. Wetzel, however, kept dodging
from tree to tree, and, being more fleet than the Indian,
managed to, keep aliead until his unerring gun was
again loaded, when, turning, he fired, and the last of
the party lay dead before him.
  So,on after this, our hero determined to visit the extreme South, and for that purpose engaged on a flat-boat
about leaving for New Orleans. Many months elapsed
bef,re his friends heard any thing of his whereabouts,
and then it was to learn that he was in close confinement at New Orleans, under some Aieighty charge.
What the exact nature of this charge was, has never
been fully ascertained; but it is very certain he was imprisoned and treated like a felon for nearly two years.
"T'he charge is supposed to have been of some trivial
character, and has been justly regarded as a great outrage. It was alleged, at the time of his arrest, to have
been for uttering counterfeit coin; but this being disproved, it was then charged that he had been guilty of
illicit connection with the wife of a Spaniard. Of the
nature of these charges, however, but little is known. He
was finally released by the intervention of our government, and reached home by way of Philadelphia, to
which city he. had been sent from New Orleans. He
remained but two days on Wheeling Creek after his
353
WESTERN? ADVENTURE.
return. From the settlement he went to Wheeling,
where he remained a few days, and then left again for
the South, vowing vengeance against the person whom
he believed to have been accessory to his imprisonment,
and in deg;rading his person with the vile rust of a
felon's chain. During his visit to Wheeling, he remained
with George Cookis, a relative. Mrs. Cookis plagued
him about getting married, and jocularly asked whether
he ever intended to take a wife. "No," he replied,
" there is no woman in this world for me, but I expect
there is one in heaven."
  After an absence of many months, he again returned
to the neighborhood of Wheeling; but whether he
avenged his real or imaginary wrongs, upon the person
of the Spaniard alluded to, is not known. His l)ropeisity
to roam the woods was still as great as ever; and an
incident occurred which showed that he had lost none
of his cunning while undergoing incarceration at New
Orleans. Returning homeward, from a hunt north of
the Ohio, somewhat fatigued and a little careless of his
movements, he suddenly espied an Indian, in the very
act of raising his gun to fire. Both immediately sprang
to trees, and there they stood for an hour, each afraid
of the other. What was to be done? To remain there
during the whole day, for it was then early in the morning, was out of the question. Now it was that the
sagacity of Wetzel displayed itself over the child-like
simplicity of the savage.   Cautiously adjusting his
bear-skin cap to the end of his ramrod-with the
slightest, most dubious and hesitating motion, as though
afraid to venture a glance, the cap protruded. An instant, a crack, and off was torn the fatal cap, by the
sure ball of the vigilant savage.  Leaping from his
retreat, our hero rapidly advanced upon the astonished
Indian, and ere the tomahawk could be brought to its
work of death, the tawny foe sprang convulsively into
the air, and, straightening as he descended, fell upon
his face quite dead.
  Wetzel was universally regarded as one of the most
efficient scouts and most practiced woodsmen of his day.
He was frequently engaged by parties who desired to
354
JOHN IVETZEL.
hunt up and locate lands, but were afraid of the Indians.
Under the protection of Lewis Wetzel, however, they
felt safe, and thus he was often engaged for months at
a time. Of those who became largely interested in
western lands, was John Madison, brother of James,
afterward President Madison.    He employed Lewis
Wetzel to go with him through the Kenawha region.
During their expedition they came upon a deserted
hunter's camp, in which were concealed some goods.
Each of them helped himself to a blanket, and that
day, in crossing Little Kenawha, they were fired upon
by a concealed party of Indians, and Madison killed.
  General Clark, the companion of Lewis in the celebrated tour across the Rocky Mountains, had heard
much of Lewis Wetzel in Kentucky, and determined
to secure his services in the perilous enterprise. A
messenger was accordingly sent for him, but he was
reluctant to go. However, he finally consented, and
accompanied the party during the first three months'
travel, but then declined going any farther, and returned
home. Shortly after this he left again, on a flat-boat,
and never returned.    lie visited a relative named
Philip Sikes, living about twenty miles in the interior
from Natchez, and there made his home until the summer of 1808, when he died. The late venerable David
McIntyre, of Belmont County, Ohio, one of the most
reliable and respectable men in the State, said that he
met Lewis Wetzel at Natchez, in April, 1808, and remained with him three days. That Lewis told him he
would visit his friends during the then approaching
summer. But alas, that visit was never made! His
journey was to "that undiscovered country, from
whose bourne no traveler returns."
                  JOHN WETZEL.*
  IN the year 1791 or'92, the Indians having made
frequent incursions into the settlements, along the river
Ohio, between Wheeling and the Mingo Bottom"* The three succeeding sketches are from Pritts' Border Life.
355
14 WESTERN AD VENTURE.

of Bourbon County. He was the first Anglo-American
who penetrated into the interior of the \Vestern country—
at least the first who has given us an account of his ad-
ventures; and in'a succession of sketches, like the pres-
ent, designed to commemorate individual rather than
national exertions, he is justly entitled to the distinction
which we give him. If we mistake not, his adventures
will be found particularly interesting, as affording more
ample specimens of savage manners and character, than
almost any other account now in existence.

In the spring of the year 1755, James Smith, then
a youth of eighteen, accompanied a party of three
hundred men from the frontiers of Pennsylvania, who
advanced in front of Braddock’s army for the purpose
of opening a road over the mountains. \Vhen within
a few miles of the Bedford Springs, he was sent back to
the rear to hasten the progress of some wagons loaded
with provisions and stores for the use of the road cutters.
Having delivered his orders, he was returning, in com-
pany with another young man, when they were suddenly
fired upon by a party of three Indians, from a cedar
thicket which skirted the road. Smith’s companion was
killed on the spot; and although he himself’ was unhurt,
yet his horse was so much frightened by the flash and
report of the guns as to become totally unmanageable,
and, after a few plunges, threw him with violence to
the ground. Before he could recover his feet, the In-
dians sprung upon him, and, overpowering his resist-
ance, secured him as a prisoner.

One of them demanded, in broken English, whether
“more white men were coming up;” and upon his
answering in the negative, he was seized by each arm
and compelled to run with great rapidity over the
mountain until night, when the small party encamped
and cooked their supper. An equal share of their
scanty stock of provisions was given to the prisoner;
and in other respects, although strictly guarded, he was
treated with great kindness. On the evening of the
next day, after a rapid walk of fifty miles through cedar
thickets and over very rocky ground, they reached the
western side of the Laurel Mountain, and beheld at a

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
sometimes killing and capturing whole families, at other
times stealing all the horses belonging to a station or
fort-a company, consisting of seven men, rendezvoused
at a place called the Beech Bottom, on the Ohio River,
a few miles below where Wellshurg has been erected.
This company were John Wetzel, \Villiam McCullough,
John Hough, Thomas Biggs, Joseph Hedges, Kinzie
Dickerson, and a Mr. Linn. Their avowed object was,
to go to the Indian town to steal horses. This was then
consitlered a legal, honorable business, as we were then
at open war with the Indians. It would only be retaliating upon them in their own way. These seven men
were all trained to Indian warfare and( a life in the
woods, from their youth. Perhaps the western frontier
at no time could furnish seven men whose souls were
better fitted, and whose nerves and sinews were better
strunlg, to perform any enterprise which required resolution aiti firmness. They crossed the Ohio, and proceeded,
with cautious steps and vigilant glances, on their way
through the cheerless, dark, and almost impenetrable
forest, in the Indian country, till they came to an Indian town, near where the head-waters of the Sandusky
and Muskingum rivers interlock. Here they made a
fine haul, and set off homeward with about fifteen horses.
They traveled rapidly, only making a short halt, to let
their horses graze and breathe a short time, to recruit
their strength and activity. In the evening of the second
day of their rapid retreat, they arrived at Wells Creek,
not far from where the town of Cambridge has been
since erected. Here Mr. Linn was taken violently sick,
andi they must stop their march, or leave him alone to
perish in the dark and lonely woods. Our frontier men,
notwithstanding their rough and unpolished manners,
had too much of my Uncle Toby's " sympathy for
suffering humanity," to forsake a comrade in distress.
They halted and placed sentinels on their back-trail,
who remaiiied there till late in the night without seeing
any signs of being pursued. The sentinels on the backtrail returned to the camp; Mr. Linn still lying in
excruciating pain. All the simple remedies in their
power were administered to the sick man, without pro356
JOHN WETZEL.
ducing any effect. Being late in the night, they all lay
down to rest, except one who was placed as guard.
Their camp was on the bank of a small branch. Just
before daybreak the guard took a small bucket and
dipped some water out of the stream; on carrying it to
the fire, he discovered the water to be muddy. The
muddy water awaked his suspicion that the enemy
might be approaching them, and were walking down in
the stream, as their footsteps would be noiseless in the
water. He waked his companions, and communicated
his suspicion. They arose, examined the branch a little
distance, and listened attentively for some time, but
neither saw nor heard any thing, and then concluded it
must have been raccoons or some other animals puddling in the stream. After this conclusion, the company all lay down to rest, except the senltinel, who was
stationed just outside of the light. Happily for them
the fire had burned down, and only a few coals afforded
a dim light to point out where they lay. The enemy
had come silently down the creek, as the sentinel suspected, to within ten or twelve feet of the place where
they lay, and fired several guns over the bank. Mr.
Linn, the sick man, was lying with his side toward the
bank, and received nearly all the balls which were at
first fired. The Indians then, with tremendous yells,
mounted the bank with loaded rifles, war-clubs, and
tomahawks, rushed upon our men, who fled barefooted
and without arms.    Mr. Linn, Thomas Biggs, and
Joseph Hedges were killed in and near the camp.
William McCullough had run but a short distance
when he was fired at by the enemy. At the instant
the filing was given, he jumped into a quaglnire and
fell; the Indians, supposing that they lhad killed him,
ran past in pursuit of others. He soon extricated hinself out of the miie, and so made his escape. He fell
in with John Hough, and came into Wheeling. John
Wetzel and Kinzie Dickerson met in their retreat, and
returned together. Those who made their escape were
without arms, without clothing, or provisions. Their
suIffrings were great; but this they bore with stoical
indifference, as it was the fortune of war. Whether the
357
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
Indians who defeated our heroes followed in pursuit
from their towns, or were a party of warriors who accidentally happened to fall in with them, has never
been ascertained. From the place they had stolen the
horses, they had traveled two nights and almost two
entire days without halting, except, just a few minutes
at a time, to let the horses graze. From the circumstance of their rapid retreat with the horses, it was
supposed that no pursuit could possibly have overtaken
them, but that fate had decreed that this party of Indians should meet and defeat them.   As soon as the
stragglers arrived at Wheeling, Captain John M'Cullough collected a party of men, and went to Wells
Creek, and buried the unfortunate men who fell in and
near the camp. The Indians had mangled the dead
bodies at a most barbarous rate. Thus was closed the
horse-stealing tragedy.
  Of the four who survived this tragedy, none are now
living to tell the story of their suffering. They continued to hunt and to fight as long as the war lasted.
John Wetzel and Dickerson died in the country near
Wheeling. John Hough died about 1842, near Columbia, Hamilton County, Ohio.     The brave Captain
William M'Cullough fell in 1812, in the battle of
Brownstown, in the campaign with General Hull.
       JOHN WETZEL AND VEACH DICKERSON.
  JOHN WETZEL and Veach Dickerson associated to
go on an Indian scout. They crossed the Ohio at the
Mingo Bottom, three miles below where the town of
Steubenville has since been constructed. They set off
with the avowed intention of bringing an Indian prisoner. They painted and dressed in complete Indian
style, and could talk some in their language. What
induced them to undertake this hazardous enterprise,
is unknown; perhaps the novelty and danger ot the
undertaking prompted them. No reward was given for
either prisoners or scalps; nor were they employed or
paid by the government.  Every man fought on his
own hook, furnished his own arms and ammunition, and
358
      JOITHN WETZEL & VEA CCH DICKERSON. 359
catried his own baggage. This was, to all intents, a
democratic war, as every one fought as often and as
long as lie pleased; either by himself, or with such company as he could confide in. As the white men on the
f.ontier took but few prisoners, Wetzel and Dickerson
concluded to change the practice, and bring in an Indian to make a pet. Whatever whim may have induced
them, they set off with the avowed intention of bringing
in a prisoner, or losing their own scalps in the attempt.
They pushlied through the Indian country with silent
treads, and a keen lookout, till they went near the head
of the Sandusky River, where they came near to a small
Indian village. They concealed themselves near to a
path which appeared to be considerably traveled. In
the course of the first day of their ambush, they saw
several small companies of Indians pass them. As it
was not their wish to raise an alarm among the enemy,
they permitted them to pass undisturbed. In the evening of the next lday, they saw two Indians coming sauntering along the road, in quite a merry mood. They
immediately stepped into the road, and, with a confident
air, as if' they were meeting friends, went forward until
they came within reach of the enemy. Wetzel drew
his tomahawk, and, with one sweep, knocked an Indian
down; at the same instant, Dickerson grasped the other
in his arms, and threw him on the ground. By this
time Wetzel had killed the other, and turned his hand
to aid in fasteniiig the prisoner. This completed, they
scalped the (lead Indian, and set off with the prisoner
for home. They traveled, all that night, on the warpath leading toward Wheeling. In the morning they
struck off from the beaten path, taking diverse courses,
and keeping on the hardest ground, where their feet
would make the least impression, as this would render
their trail more difficult to follow in case they should
be pursued. They pushed along till they had crossed
the Muskingum some distance, when their prisoner began to show a restive, stubborn disposition; he finally
threw himself on the ground and refused to rise. He
held down his head, and told them they might tomahawk him as soon as they pleased, for he was deter          32
WESTERN AD YENTURE.
mined to go no farther.   They used every argument
they could think of, to induce him to proceed, but without any effect. He said "he would prefer dying in his
native woods, than to preserve his life a little longer,
and, at last, be tortured by fire, and his body mangled
for sport, when they took him to their towns." They
assured him his life would be spared, and that he would
be well used, and treated with plenty.  But all their
efforts would not induce him to rise to his feet. The
idea that he would be put to death for sport, or in revenge, in presence of a large number of spectators, who
would enjoy, with raptures, the scenes of his torture and
death, had taken such a strong hold of his mind, that
he determined to disappoint the possibility of their being gratified at his expense. As it was not their wish to
kill him, from coaxing, they concluded to try if a
hickory, well applied, would not bend his stubborn soul.
This, too, failed to have any effect. He appeared to be
as callous and indifferent to the lash as if he had been
a cooper's horse. What invincible resolution and fortitude was evinced by this son of the f)rest! Finding
all their efforts to urge him forward ineffectual, they
determined to put him to death. They then tomahawked and scalped him, and left his body a prey to the
wild beasts of the forest, and to the birds of the air.
Our heroes then returned home with their two scalps;
but vexed and disappointed that they could not bring
with them the prisoner.
         JACOB WETZEL AND SIMON KENTON.
  THE following relation I had from General Kenton:
Kenton and Wetzel made arrangements to make a fall
hunt together; and for that purpose they went into the
hilly country, near the mouth of the Kentucky River.
When they arrived in that part of the country in which
they intended to make their hunt, they discovered some
signs of Indians having pre-occupied the ground. It
would have been out of character in a Kenton and a
Wetzel to retreat, without first ascertaining the description and number of the enemy. They determined to
360
      JACOB WETZEL A.ND Sr.IMON KENTON.          361
find the Indian camp, which they believed was at no
great distance from them, as they had heard reports of
guns late in the evening, and early the next morning,
in the same direction. This convinced them that the
camp was at no great distance from the firing. Our
heroes moved cautiously about, making as little sign as
possible, that they might not be discovered by the enemy.
Toward evening of' the second day after they arrived
on the ground, they discover ed the Indian camp. They
kept themselves concealed, determined, as soon as night
approached, to reconnoiter the situation and number of
the enemy; and then govern their future operations
as prudence might dictate. They found five Indians in
the camp.   Having confidence in themselves, and in
their usual good fortune, they concluded to attack them
boldly. Contrary to military rules, they agreed to defer
the attack till light. In military affairs it is a general
rule to avoid night fights, except where small numbers
intend to assault a larger force. The night is then
chosen, as the darkness, the numbers of the assailants
being uncertain, may produce panics and confusion,
which may give the victory to far inferior numbers.
Our heroes chose daylight and an open field for the
fight. There was a large fallen tree lying near the
camp; this would serve as a rampart for defense, and
would also serve to conceal them from observation till
the battle commenced. They took their station behind
the log, and there lay till broad daylight, when they
were able to draw a clear bead. Jacob Wetzel had a
double-barreled rifle. Their guns were cocked-they
took aim, and gave the preconcerted signal-fired, and
two Indians fell. As quick as thought, Wetzel fired
his second load, and down fell the third Indian. Their
number was equal, and they bounded over the log,
screaming and yelling at the highest pitch of their
voices, to strike terror into their remaining enemies;
and were among them before they recovered firom the
sudden surprise. The two remaining Indians, without
arms, took to their heels, and ran in different directions.
Kenton pursued one, whom he soon overhauled, tomahawked and scalped, and then returned, with the bloody
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
trophy, to the camp. Shortly after, Wetzel returned
with the scalp of the fifth Indian.  This was a wholesale slaughter that but tfew, except such men as a Kenton and a Wetzel, would have attempted.
       MAJOR SAMUEL McCOLLOCH.*
             FIRST SIEGE OF WHEELING.
  AMONG the earliest settlers on Short Creek, not far
from Wheeling, Virginia, was the McColloch family,
composed of three brothers, Abraham, Samuel, and
John, and two sisters--the latter as lovely, devoted,
and gentle as the brothers were bold, brave, and generous. No men were more respected by their neighbors,
or more dreaded by the Indians. At an early age,
Samuel, the second son, distinguished himself as a
bold and efficient borderer. As an "Indian hunter,"
he had few superiors.  He seemed to track the wily
red man with a sagacity as remarkable as his efforts
were successfil. He was almost constantly engaged
in excursions against the enemy, or " scouting" for the
security of the settlements. It was mainly to these
energetic operations that the frontier was so often
saved from savage depredation; and by cutting off
their retreat, attacking their hunting camps, and annoying them in various other ways, he rendered himself
so great an object of fear and hatred. For these they
marked him, and vowed sleepless vengeance against the
name. In consideration of his very many efficient services,
Samuel McColloch was commissioned major, in 1775.
  In the month of August, 1777, information was received, from some friendly Moravian Indians, that a large
army of Indians-composed chiefly of warriors from the
great North-western Confederacy-were making vigorous preparations to strike an effective and terrible blow
upon some of the settlements on the upper Ohio. It
* Arranged from DeHass' History of Western Virginia.
362
MAJOR SAMUEL McCOLLOCH.
was stated, too, that this chosen body of savages would
be under the lead of Simon Girty, a renegade white
man of most relentless and insatiable ferocity toward
his renounced countrymen. It soon became manifest
at what point the enemy designed to strike. With
apprehensions of dread, the settlers at the mouth of
Wheeling (numbering about thirty families) betook
themselves to their fort, and with calm resolution
a\\aited the issue.
  Early in the evening of the thirty-first of August,
Captain Joseph Ogle, who had been sent out some days
before, at the head of ten or fifteen men, to scout along
the different routes usually followed by the Indians, returned to Wheeling, and reported no immediate cause
of danger. The Indians, with their accustomed sagacity,
suspecting that their movements might be watched,
abandoned all the paths usually trodden, and dividing,
as they approached the river, into small distinct parties,
struck out along new lines for the Ohio. Without discovery, they reached the vicinity of Boggs' Island (two
miles below Wheeling Creek), and there consolidating
their force, crossed the river and proceeded directly to
the creek bottom, under cover of night, and completed
their plans for movement in the morning. The Indian
army consisted of over three hundred and fifty Mingoes,
Shawnees, and Wyandotts. It was commanded by the
notorious renegade, Simon Girty, and well furnished
with arms, ammunition, etc., by the infamous Hamilton,
governor of Canada. Girty disposed of his men in two
lines across the bottom, which, at that time, was cleared
and mostly in corn, and stretched from the river to the
creek. They were arranged at convenient distances,
and cffectually concealed by the high weeds and corn.
  Posted near the center of these lines, and close to
a path leading from the fort (which they supposed some
of the whites would pass along in the morning), were
six Indians. Shortly after daybreak of the first of
September, Dr. McMechen, who was about returning
east of the mountains, sent out a white man named
Boyd, and a negro, to catch the horses. The two men
had not proceeded far before they discovered the six In363
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
dians. Hoping to escape, they made a hurried retreat,
but Boyd was killed. The negro was permitted to return, doubtless to mislead the whites as to the actual
number of the foe.
  The commandant immediately ordered Captain Samuel
Mason, who had brought his company to the fort on
the previous evening, to go out and dislodge the enemy.
With fourteen of his men, the gallant captain sallied
forth, and, after proceeding partly across the bottom,
discovered the six Indians and fired upon them. Almost simultaneously with this discharge, the entire
Indian army arose, and, with horrid yells, rushed upon
the little band of whites. Finding that to stand were
madness, Mason ordered a retreat, and in person commenced cutting his way through the Indian line. This
he succeeded in doing, but most of his gallant little
party perished in the attempt. Out of the fourteen but
two escaped, and they, like Captain Mason, eluded the
pursuing savages by concealing themselves beneath
brush and fallen timber. The names of those who
escaped this general slaughter, were Hugh McConnell
and Thomas Glenn. William Shepherd, son of Colonel
David Shepherd, had gained the spring, near where
the Wheeling market-house now stands, when one of
his feet caught in a vine, and, falling, the pursuing
savage was instantly upon him, and, with a war-club,
dispatched him on the spot. A dense fog concealed this
from the sight of those in the fort.
  So soon as the disaster to Mason had been ascertained
at the fort, Captain Joseph Ogle, with his dozen experienced scouts, advanced to his relief, but not without forebodings of imminent danger, as the yells of
the savages, and shrieks of the whites, told too plainly
that a terrible massacre was taking place. With fearless steps Captain Ogle moved on to the scene of conflict, determined to cover the retreat of his unfortunate
countrymen, or perish in the attempt. An excited and
bloody foe rushed upon them, with the fury of demons,
and all but two or three shared the fate of the first detachment. Captain Ogle, Sergeant Jacob Ogle, Martin
Wetzel, and perhaps one other, were all who escaped.
364
MAJOR SAMUEL McCOLLOCIT.
  The loss of so many brave men, at such a time, was
a sad blow to this part of the country. Those who fell
were the pride of that little fortre~s. They were heroes
in every sense of the word; men of iron nerve, indomitable courage, and devoted patriotism. The valor of
either would have done honor to the victors of Marathon. Scarcely had the shrieks of the wounded and
dying been quieted, than the army of savages, with
reeking scalps, just torn from the heads of the ill-fated
soldiery, presented themselves in front of the fort, and
demanded a surrender. The appearance of the enemy,
as they approached, was most formidable. They advanced in two separate columns, with drum, fife, and
British colors.  The morning was calm, warm, and
bright; and the sun, just rising over the high hill which
overlooked the fort, was gently dissipating the heavy
fog which covered the bloody scene on the bottom.
  As the Indians advanced, a few scattering shots were
fired at them from the fort, without much execution.
Girty, having brought up his forces, proceeded to dispose of them as follows: The right flank was brought
around the base of the hill, and distributed among the
several cabins convenier:t to the fort; the left was
ordered to defile beneath the river bank, close under
the flrt. Thus disposed, Girty presented himself at
the window of a cabin, holding forth a white flag, and
offering conditions of peace. He read the proclamation of Hamilton, governor of Canada, and, in a stentorian voice, demanded the surrender of the fort,
offering, in case they complied, protection; but if they
rethsed, immediate and indiscriminate massacre. He
referred, in a very boasting manner, to the great force
at his command; and called upon them, as loyal subjects, to give up, in obedience to the demand of the
king's agent, and that not one of them should be inljured.
  Although the whole number of men then in the fort,
did not exceed ten or a dozen, still there was no disposition to yield; but, on the contrary, a fixed deterinitiation to defy the renegade, and all the power of
King George.
  Girty having finished his harangue, Colonel David
365
JAMES SMITH. 15

‘little distance the smoke of an Indian encampment.

His captors now fired their guns and raised the scalp
hallool This is a long yell for every scalp that has been
taken, followed by a rapid succession of shrill, quick,
piercing shrieks, somewhat resembling laughter in its
most excited tones. They were answered from the In-
dian camp below by a discharge of rifles and a long
whoop, followed by shrill cries of joy; and all thronged
out to meet the party. Smith expected instant death
at their hands, as they crowded around him; but to his
surprise, no one offered him any violence. They be-
longed to another tribe, and entertained the party in
their camp with great hospitality, respecting the prisoner
as the property of their guests.

On the following morning Smith’s captors continued
their march, and on the evening of the next day arrived
at Fort Du Q,uesne, now Pittsburgh. When within half
a mile of the fort, they again raised the scalp halloo,
and fired their guns as before. Instantly the whole
garrison was in commotion. The cannon were fired,
the drums were beaten, and French and Indians ran out
in great numbers to meet the party and partake of their
triumph. Smith was again surrounded by a multitude
of savages, painted in various colors, and shouting with
delight; but their demeanor was by no means as pacific
as that of the last party he had encountered. They
rapidly formed in two long lines, and, brandishing their
hatchets, ramrods, switches, etc., called aloud upon him
to run the gauntlet.

* Never having heard of this Indian ceremony before,
he stood amazed for some time, not knowing what to do;
but one of his captors explained to him that he was to
run between the two lines, and receive a blow from each
Indian as he passed, concluding his explanation by ex-
horting him to “run his best,” as the faster he run
the sooner the affair would be over. This truth was
very plain, and young Smith entered upon his race with
great spirit. He was switched very handsomely along
the lines for about three-fourths of the distance, the
stripes only acting as a spur to greater exertions; and
he had almost reached the opposite extremity of the

TWESTERN AD VENTURE.
Shepherd, the commandant, promptly, and in the most
gallant and eft ctive manner, repli,ed, " Sir, we have
consulted our wives and children, and all have resolved
-men, women, and children-sooner to perish at their
posts than place themselves under the protection of a
savage army, with you at the head; or abjure the cause
of liberty and the colonies." The outlaw attempted to
reply, but a shot from the fort put a stop to any
further harangue.
  A darker hour had scarcely ever obscured the hopes
of the West. Death was all around that little fortress,
and hopeless desp,tir seemed to press upon its inmates;
but still they could not and would not give up. Duty,
patriotism, pride, independence, safety, all required
they should not surrender and forswear the cause of
freedom.
  Unable to intimidate them, and finding the be.ieged
proof against his vile promises, the chagrined and discomfited Girty disappeared from the cabin, but in a
few minutes was seen approaching with a large body
of Indians, and instantly a tremendous rush was made
upon the fort. They attempted to force the gates, and
test the strength or the pickets by muscular effort.
Failing to make any impression, Girty drew off his men
a few yards, and commenced a general fire upon the
port-holes.
  Thus continued the attack during most of the day,
and part of the night, but without any sensible eff2ct.
About noon, a temporary withdrawal of the enemy took
place. During the cessation, active preparations were
carried on within the fort, to resist a further attack.
Each person was assigned some particular duty. Of
the women, some were required to run bullets, while
others were to cool the guns, load and hand them to
the men, etc. Some of them, indeed, insisted upon
doing duty by the side of the men, and two actually
took their position at the port-holes, dealing death to
many a dusky warrior.
  About three o'clock, the Indians returned to the attack with redoubled fury. They distributed themselves
among the cabins, behind fallen trees, etc. The num366
MAJOR SAMUEL McCOLLOCIL.
ber thus disposed of, amounted to perhaps one-half the
actual force of the enemy. The remainder advanced
along the base of the hill south of the fort, and commenced a vigorous fire upon that part of the stockade.
This was a cunningly devised scheme, as it drew most
of the inmates to that quarter.  Immediately a rush
was made from the cabins, led on by Girty in person,
and a most determined effbrt made to force the entrance.
The attempt was made with heavy timber, but failed,
with the loss of many of their boldest warriors.
  Several similar attempts were made during the afternoon, but all alike failed. Maddened and chagrined by
repeated disappointment and ill-success, the savages
withdrew  to their covert until night-fall.  Day at
length closed; darkness deepened over the waters, and
almost the stillness of death reigned around. About
nine o'clock, the savages re-appeared, making night
hideous with their yells, and the heavens lurid with
their discharge of musketry. The lights in the fort
having been extinguished, the inmates had the advantage of those without, and many a stalwart savage fell
before the steady aim of experienced frontiermen. Repeated attempts were made, during the night, to storm
the fort, and to fire it, but all failed, through the
vigilance and activity of those within.
  At length that night of horror passed, and the
second of September dawned upon the scene, only to
bring a renewal of the attack. This, however, did not
last long, and despairing of success, the savages prepared to leave. They fired most of the buildings, killed
the cattle, and were about departing, when a relief
party of fourteen men, under Colonel Andrew Swearingen, from Holliday's Fort, twenty-four miles above,
landed in a pirogue, and, undiscovered by the Indians,
gained entrance to the fort. Shortly afterward, Major
Samuel McColloch, at the head of forty mounted men
from Short Creek, made their appearance in front of
the fort, the gates of which were joyfully thrown open.
Simultaneously with the appearance of McColloch's
men re-appeared the enemy, and a rush was made, to
cut off the entrance of some of the party. All, how          33
367
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
ever, succeeded in getting in except the gallant major,
who, anxious for the safety of his men, held back until his own chance was entirely cut off. Finding himself surrounded by savages, he rode, at full speed; in the
direction of the lofty hill, which overhangs the present
city of Wheeling. The enemy, with exulting yells,
followed close in pursuit, not doubting they would capture one whom of all other men they preferred to
wreak their vengeance upon. Knowing their relentless
hostility toward himself, he strained every muscle of
his noble steed to gain the summit, and then escape
along the brow in direction of Van Metre's Fort. At
length he attained the top, and galloping ahead of his
pursuers, rejoiced at his lucky escape. As he gained
a point on the hill, near where the Cumberland Road
now crosses, what should he suddenly encounter but a
considerable body of Indians, who were just returning
from a plundering excursion among the settlements.
  In an instant, he comprehended the full extent of
his danger. Escape seemed out of the question, either
in the direction of Short Creek or back to the bottom.
A fierce and revengeful foe completely hemmed him in,
cutting off every chance of successful retreat or escape.
What was to be done?       Fall into their hands, and
share the most refined torture savage ingenuity could
invent?   That thought was agony; and, in an instant,
the bold soldier-preferring death among the rocks and
brambles, to the knife and faggot of the savage-determined to plunge over the precipice before him.*
Without a moment's hesitation, for the savages were
pressing upon him, he firmly adjusted himself in his
saddle, grasped securely the bridle with his left hand,
and supporting his rifle in the right, pushed his unfaltering old horse over. A plunge, a crash-crackling
timber and tumbling rocks were all that the wondering
savages could see or hear. They looked chagrined, but
bewildered, one at another; and while they inwardly
  "*The hill, at this point, is full three hundred feet in height,
and, at that time, was in many places perpendicular. Since
then the construction of the road has somewhat changed its
features. The exact spot where the rider went over, is close
to a small house standing near where the road crosses.
368
,1
1% I~d
Fearful Leap of Major Samuel McColloch. [See page 368.]
i!~,
MAJOR SAMUEL McCOLLOCI0.
regretted that the fire had been spared its duty, they
could not but greatly rejoice that their most inveterate
enemy was at length beyond the power of doing further
injury. But, lo! ere a single savage had recovered
from his amazement, what should they see but the invulnerable major, on his white steed, galloping across
the peninsula. Such was the feat of Major McColloch,
certainly one of the most daring and successful ever
attempted.   The place has become memorable as
McColloch's Leap, and will remain so long as the hill
stands, and the recollections of the past have a place
in the hearts of the people. Our engraver has given
a very effctive and correct representation of this
" leap."
  It is a matter of great regret that more of the stirring incidents in this man's life have not been collected
and preserved. Toward the latter end of July, 1782,
indications of Indians having been noticed by some of
the settlers, Major McColloch and his brother John
mounted their horses, and left Van Metre's Fort, to
ascertain the correctness of the report. They crossed
Short Creek, and continued in the direction of Wheeling, but inclining toward the river.   They scouted
closely but cautiously, and not discovering any such
" signs" as had been stated, descended to the bottom,
at a point about two miles above Wheeling. They then
passed up the river to the mouth of Short Creek, and
thence up Girty's Point, in the direction of Van
Metre's. Not discovering any indications of the enemy,
the brothers were riding leisurely along (July 30,
1782), and when a short distance beyond the "point,"
a deadly discharge of rifles took place, killing Major
McColloch instantly. His brother escaped, but his
horse was killed. Immediately mounting that of his
brother, he made off to give the alarm. As yet no
enemy had been seen; but turning in his saddle, after
riding fifty yards, the path was filled with Indians,
and one fellow in the act of scalping the unfortunate
major. Quick as thought the rifle of John was at his
shoulder, and, in an instant more, the savage was rolling in the agonies of death. John McColloch escaped
369
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
to the fort unhurt, with the exception of a slight wound
on his hip.
  On the following day a party of men, from Van
Metre's, went out and gathered up the mutilated remains of Major McColloch. The savages had disemboweled him, but the viscera all remained, except the
heart. Some years subsequent to this melancholy affair,
an Indian, who had been one of the party on this occasion, told some whites that the heart of Major McColloch had been divided and eaten by the party. This was
done, said he, that "we be bold, like Major McColloch." On another occasion, an Indian, in speaking of
the incident, said, " The white (meaning John McColloch) had killed a great captain, but they (the Indians)
had killed a greater one."
           REMARKABLE ESCAPE.
  ONE of the most remarkable escapes upon record, is
that of Thomas Mills. The circumstances were these:
On the thirtieth day of July, 1783, Mills and two other
men, Henry Smith and Hambleton Kerr, started on a
fishing excursion, up the river, from Wheeling. When
near Glenn's Run, a party of Indians, who had watched
the movements of the whites, fired upon them, killing
Smith, and wounding Mills in fourteen places. He had
that many distinct bullet-holes in him, and yet not one
of them was mortal. Kerr escaped. Just before the
attack, Mills and his companions had caught an enormous catfish (weighing 87 pounds); and when the men
were taken from the canoe, at Wheeling, their appearance was truly frightful-they were literally covered
with blood and sand. Mills recovered from his wounds,
and, as late as 1850, was living on the Ohio, near Shade
River. He was, in his time, a most useful man on the
frontier, possessing great experience as a hunter and
scout.
  Kerr was one of the most efficient spies west of the
370
CAPTIVITY OF TWO BOYS.
Ohio River. His father was killed near the mouth of
Duck Creek, in the summer of 1791. Two of his neighbors who were passing down the river in a canoe, on
the Virginia side of the island, hearing the report of
a gun, landed and passed over the island, where they
saw two Indians going from the canoe in which Kerr
lay, with the struggles of death still upon him. This
murder of his father greatly exasperated Hambleton,
and, thenceforward, no Indian was safe who crossed his
path, whether in time of war or peace. He settled at
the mouth of a small stream, now known as Kerr's
Run, at the upper end of the flourishing town of
Pomeroy, Ohio.
          CAPTIVITY OF TWO BOYS.
  IN the spring of 1785, the Indians early re-appeared
in the neighborhood of Wheeling. One of their first
acts, on Wheeling Creek, was the captivity of two boys,
John Wetzel, jr., and Frederick Erlewyne, the former
about sixteen years of age, and the latter a year.or two
younger. The boys had gone from the fort, at Shepherd's, for the purpose of catching horses. One of the
stray animals was a mare, with a young colt, belonging
to Wetzel's sister, and she had offered the foal to John,
as a reward for finding the mare. While on this service,
they were captured by a party of four Indians, who
having come across the horses, had seized and secured
them in a thicket, expecting the bells would attract
the notice of their owners, so they could kill them.
The horse was ever a favorite object of plunder with
the savages; as not only facilitating his own escape
from pursuit, but also assisting him in carrying off the
spoil. The boys, hearing the well-known tinkle of the
bells, approached the spot where the Indians lay concealed, congratulating themselves on their good luck in
so readily finding the strays, when they were immediately seized by the savages. John, in attempting to
371
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
escape, was shot through the wrist.  His companion
hesitating to go with the Indians, and beginning to cry,
they dispatched him with the tomahawk. John, who
had once before been taken prisoner, and escaped,
made light of it, and went along cheerfully with his
wounded arm.
  The party struck the Ohio River early the following
morning, at a point near the mouth of Grave Creek,
and just below the clearing of Mr. Tomlinson, who
with his family was at that time in the fort at Wheeling. Here they found some hogs, and killing one of
them, put it into a canoe they had stolen. Three of
the Indians took possession of the canoe, with their
prisoner, while the other was busied in swimming the
horses across the river. It so happened that Isaac
Williams, Hambleton Kerr, and Jacob, a Dutchman,
had come down that morning from Wheeling, to look
after the cattle, etc., left at the deserted settlement.
When near the mouth of Little Grave Creek, a mile
above, they heard the report of a rifle. " Dod rot'em,"
exclaimed Mr. Willlams, "a Kentuck' boat has landed
at the creek, and they are shooting my hogs." Quickening their pace, in a few minutes they were within a
short distance of the creek, when they heard the loud
snort of a horse. Kerr, being in the prime of life, and
younger than Mr. Williams, was several rods ahead,
and reached the bank first. As he looked into the
creek, he saw three Indians standing in a canoe; one
was in the stern, one in the bow, and the other in the
middle. At the feet of the latter lay four rifles and
a dead hog; while a fourth Indian was swimming a
horse, a few rods from shore. The one in the stern
had his paddle in the edge of the water, in the act of
turning and shoving the canoe from the mouth of the
creek into the river. Before they were aware of his
presence, Kerr drew up and shot the Indian in the
stern, who instantly fell into the water. The crack of
his rifle had scarcely ceased, when Mr. Williams came
up and shot the one in the bow, who also fell overboard.
Kerr dropped his own rifle, and seizing that of the
Dutchman, shot the remaining Indian. He fell over
372
CAPTIVITY OF TWO BOYS.
into the water, but still held on to the side of the canoe
with one hand. So amazed was the last Indian at the
fall of his companions, that he never offered to lift one
of the rifles, which lay at his feet, in self-defense, but
acted like one bereft of his senses.
  By this time the canoe, impelled by the impetus
given to it by the first Indian, had reached the current
of the river, and was some rods below the mouth of the
creek. Kerr instantly reloaded his gun, and seeing another man lying in the bottom of the canoe, raised it
to his face as in the act of firing, when he cried out,
"Don't shoot, I am a white man!" Kerr told him to
knock loose the Indian's hand from the side of the
canoe, and paddle to the shore. In reply he said his
arm was broken, and he could not. The current, however, set it near some rocks not far from land, on
which he jumped and waded out. Kerr now aimed his
rifle at the Indian on horse-back, who, by this time,
had reached the middle of the river. The shot struck
near him, splashing the water on his naked skin. The
Indian, seeing the fate of his companions, with the
utmost bravery slipped from the horse, and swam for
the canoe in which were the rifles of the four warriors.
This was an act of necessity as well as of daring, for he
well knew he could not reach home without the means
of killing game. He soon gained possession of the
canoe, unmolested crossed with the arms to his own side
of the Ohio, mounted the captive horse, which had
swam to the Indian shore, and, with a yell of defiance,
escaped into the woods. The canoe was turned adrift,
to spite his enemies, and was taken up near Maysville,
Kentucky, with the dead hog still in it-the cause of
all their misfortunes.
73
16 WESTERN AD VENTURE.

line, when a tall chief struck him a furious blow with a
club upon the back of the head, and instantly felled
him to the ground. Recovering himself in a moment,
he sprung to his feet and started forward again, when a.
handful of sand was thrown in his eyes, which, in ad-
dition to the great pain, completely blinded him. He
still attempted to grope his way through, but was again
knocked down and beaten with merciless severity. He
soon became insensible under such barbarous treatment,

and recollected nothing more until he found himself in '

the hospital of the fort, under the hands of a French
surgeon, beaten to a jelly, and unable to move a limb.
Here he was quickly visited by one of his captors—the
same who had given him such good advice when about
to commence his race.

He now inquired, with some interest, if he felt “very
sore.” Young Smith replied that he had been bruised
almost to death, and asked what he had done to merit
such barbarity. The Indian replied that he had done
nothing, but that it was the customary greeting of the
Indians to their prisoners; that it was something like
the English “How d'ye do?” and that now all cere-
mony would be laid aside and he would be treated
with kindness. Smith inquired if they had any news
of General Braddock. The Indian replied that their
scouts saw him every day from the mountains; that he
was advancing in close columns through the woods
(this he indicated by placing a number of red sticks
parallel to each other, and pressed closely together);
and that the Indians would be able to shoot them down
“like pigeons.” '

Smith rapidly recovered, and was soon able to walk
upon the battlements of the fort, with the aid of a stick.
\Vhile engaged in this exercise, on the morning of the
ninth of July, he observed an unusual bustle in the fort.
The Indians stood in crowds at the great gate, armed
and painted. Many barrels of powder, ball, flints, etc.,
were brought out to them, from which each warrior
helped himself to such articles as he required. They
were soon joined by a small detachment of French reg-
ulars, when the whole party marched off together. He

IVESTERN ADVENT URE.
         THE TWO JOHNSON BOYS.
               ANOTHER BRAVE BOY.
  SINcE giving, on page 286, the remarkable story of
the two Johnson boys, we have met with a detailed
statement of the whole transaction, by Henry Johnson,
the younger brother, who was still living, in 1851, in
Monroe County, Ohio. We copy from De Hass' History
of Western Virginia, page 300:
                  ANTIOCH, MONPROE COUNTY, OHIO,
                             January 18, 1851.  f
  DEAR SIR:-Yours of the eighth instant has just
come to hand, and I, with pleasure, sit down to answer
your request, which is a statement of my adventure
with the Indians. I will give the narrative as found
in my sketch book.
  I was born in Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania,
February 4th, 1777. When about eight years old, my
father, James Johnson, having a large family to provide
for, sold his farm, with the expectation of acquiring
larger possessions fihrther west. Thus he was stimulated
to encounter the perils of a pioneer life. He crossed
the Ohio River, and bought some improvements on
what was called Beach Bottom Flats, two and a half
miles from the river, and three or four miles above the
mouth of Short Creek, with the expectation of holding,
by improvement-right, under the Virginia claim. Soon
after we reached there, the Indians became troublesome;
they stole horses, and killed a number of persons in our
neighborhood. When I was between eleven and twelve
years old, in the month of October, 1788, 1 was taken
prisoner by the Indians, with my brother John, who
was about eighteen months older than I. The circumstances were as follows:
  On Saturday evening we were out with an older
brother, and came home late in the evening. The next
morning one of us had lost a hat, and, about the middle
of the day, we thought that perhaps he had left it where
374
THE TWO JOHNSON BO YS.
we had been at work, about three-fourths of a mile from
the house. We went to the place and found the hat,
and sat down on a log by the road-side, and commenced
cracking nuts. In a short time we saw two men coming toward us from the house. By their dress, we
supposed they were two of our neighbors, James Perdue and J. Russell. We paid but little attention to
them, until they came quite near us, when we saw our
mistake-they were black. To escape by flight was
impossible, had we been disposed to try. We sat still
until they came up. One of them said, "How do,
brodder? " My brother asked them if they were Indians, and they answered in the affirmative, and said
we must go with them. One of them had a blue buckskin pouch, which he gave my brother to carry, and,
without farther ceremony, we took up the line of march
for the wilderness, not knowing whether we should ever
return to our cheerfill home; and, not having much
love for our commanding officers, of course we obeyed
orders very tardily. The mode of march was thus,
one of the Indians walked about ten steps before, the
other about ten behind us.
  After traveling some distance, we halted in a deep
hollow, and sat down. They took out their knives and
whet them, and talked some time in the Indian tongue,
which we could not understand. My brother and I sat
eight or ten steps from them, and talked about killing
them that night, and making our escape. I thought,
from their looks and actions, that they were going to
kill us; and, strange to say, felt no alarm. I thought
I would rather die than go with them. The most of
my trouble was, that my father and mother would be
fretting after us-not knowing what had become of us.
I expressed my thoughts to John, who went and began
to talk with them. He said that father was cross to
him, and made him work hard, and that he did not
like hard work; that he would rather be a hunter, and
live in the woods. This seemed to please them; for they
put up their knives, and talked more lively and pleasantly. We became very familiar, and many questions
passed between us; all parties were very inquisitive.
375
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
They asked my brother which way home was several
times, and he would tell them the contrary way every
time, although he knew the way very well. This would
make them laugh; they thought we were lost, and that
we knew no better.
  They conducted us over the Short Creek Hills in
search of horses, but found none; so we continued on
foot until night, when we halted in a hollow, about
three miles from Carpenter's Fort, and about four miles
from the place where they first took us. Our route being somewhat circuitous, we made but slow progress.
As night began to close in, I became fretful. My
brother encouraged me, by whispering that he would
kill them that night. After they had selected the place
of our encampment, one of them scouted round, whilst
the other struck fire, which was done by stopping the
touch-hole of his gun, and flashing powder in the pan.
After the Indian got the fire kindled, he re-primed the
gun, and went to an old stump to get some tinder wood;
and, while he was thus employed, my brother John took
the gun, cocked it, and was about to shoot the Indian.
Alarmed, lest the other might be close by, I remonstiated, and, taking hold of the gun, prevented him
shooting; at the same time I begged him to wait till
night, and I would help him kill them both. The other
Indian came back about dark, when we took our supper,
such as it was-some corn parched on the coals, and
some roasted pork. We then sat down and talked for
some time. They seemed to be acquainted with the whole
border settlement, from Marietta to Beaver, and could
number every fort and block-house, and asked my
brother how many fighting men there were in each
place, and how many guns. In some places, my brother
said, there were a good many more guns than there
were fighting men. They asked what use were these
guns. He said that the women could load while the
men fired.  But how did these guns get there? My
brother said, when the war was over with Great Britain,
the soldiers that were enlisted during the war were
discharged, and they left a great many of their guns at
the stations. They asked my brother who owned that
376
THE TWO JOHNSON BOYS.
black horse that wore a bell. He answered, father.
They then said the Indians could never catch that
horse.
  We then went to bed on the naked ground, to rest and
study out the best mode of attack. They put us between them, that they might be the better able to guard
us. After a while, one of the Indians, supposing we
were asleep, got up and stretched himself on the other
side of the fire, and soon began to snore. John, who
had been watching every motion, found they were
sound asleep. He whispered to me to get up, which
we did as carefully as possible. John took the gun
with which the Indian had struck fire, cocked it, and
placed it in the direction of the head of one of the
Indians. He then took a tomahawk, and drew it over
the head of the other Indian. I pulled the trigger,
and he struck at the same instant; the blow, falling
too far back on the neck, only stunned the Indian.
He attempted to spring to his feet, uttering most
hideous yells, but my brother repeated the blows with
such effect that the conflict became terrible, and somewhat doubtful. The Indian, howvever, was forced to
yield to the blows he received on his head, and, in a
short time, he lay quiet at our feet. The one that was
shot never moved; and, fearing there were others close
by, we hurried off, and took nothing with us but the
gun I shot with. They had told us we would see Indians about to-morrow, so we thought that there was a
camp of Indians close by; and fearing the report of
the gun, the Indian hallooing, and I calling to John,
might bring them upon us, we took our course toward
the river, and, on going about three-fourths of a mile,
came to a path which led to Carpenter's Fort.   My
brother here hung up his hat, that he might know
where to take off to find the camp.
  We got to the fort a little before day-break. We
related our adventure, and, the next day, a small party
went out with my brother, and found the Indian that
was tomahawked on the ground; the other had crawled
off, and was not found till some time after. He was
shot through, close by the ear.
377
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
  Having concluded this narrative, I will give a description of the two Indians. They were of the Delaware tribe, and one of them a chief. He wore the
badges of his office-the wampum belt, three halfmoons, and a silver plate on his breast; bands of silver
on both arms, and his ears cut round and ornamented
with silver; the hair, on the top of his head, was done
up with silver wire. The other Indian seemed to be
a kind of waiter. He was rather under size, a plain
man. He wore a fine beaver-hat, with a hole shot
through the crown. My brother asked him about the
hat. He said he killed a captain, and got his hat. My
brother asked him if he had killed many of the whites,
and he answered, a good many. He then asked him
if the big Indian had killed many of the whites, and he
answered, a great many, and that he was a great captain-a chief..
              [Signed]         HENRY JOHNSON.
  In connection with the above, and to still farther
show of what material the boys were made in the
great heroic age of the West, we give the following,
which we find in a recent communication from Major
Nye, of Ohio. The scene of adventure was within the
present limits of Wood County, Virginia:
   " I have heard, from Mr. Guthrie and others, that,
at Bellville, a mall had a son, quite a youth, say twelve
or fourteen years of age, who had been used to firing
his father's gun, as most boys did in those days. He
heard, he supposed, turkeys on or near the bank of the
Ohio, opposite that place, and asked his father to let
him take the gun and kill one. His father, knowing
that the Indians frequently decoyed people by such
noises, refused, saying it was probably an Indian.
When he had gone to work, the boy took the gun and
paddled his canoe over the river, but had the precaution to land some distance from where he had heard
the turkey all the morning, probably for fear of scaring the game, and perhaps a little afraid of Indians.
The banks were steep, and the boy cautiously advanced
to where he could see without being seen. Watching
378
CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRAD Y.
awhile for his game, he happened to see an Indian
cautiously looking over a log, to notice where the boy
had landed. The lad fixed his gun at a rest, watching
the place where he had seen the Indian's head, and
when it appeared again, fired, and the Indian disappeared. The boy dropped the gun and ran for his
canoe, which he paddled over the river as soon as
possible. When he reached home, he said,'Mother,
I have killed an Indian!' and the mother replied,
"No, you have not.''Yes, I have,' said the boy.
The father coming in, he made the same report to
him, and received the same reply; but he constantly
affirmed it was even so; and, as the gun was left, a
party took the boy over the river to find it, and show
the place where he shot the Indian, and, behold, his
words were found verified. The ball had entered the
head, where the boy had affirmed he shot, between
the eye and ear."
  Such "boys" made the men of the Republic in after
years-men whom neither tyranny nor oppression could
subdue.
          CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRADY.
  OF the many brave spirits who started into existence
at the first drum-tap of the Revolution, but few have
become better known or more respected, in the West,
than the gallant Brady, captain of the spies. At a
very early age, this devoted partisan gave indications
of future usefulness; exhibiting, in all his movements,
a spirit and a purpose to do and dare which marked
him as a man of no ordinary character, and proved
him fit for almost any emergency.
  Brady was emphatically the Marion of the West.
Like the Chevalier Bayard, he was "without fear and
without reproach." A bolder or braver man never
drew a sword or fired a rifle; and these marked
elements of his nature rendered him the terror of the
Indian warrior, whether on the scout or in the wigwam,
379
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
for he felt himself alike insecure from the noiseless
vengeance of the "leader of the spies."     No man
stood higher in the esteem of the hardy settlers, and
no name could inspire more of confidence and of safety
than that of Samuel Brady. During the whole of the
fierce, protracted, and sanguinary war, which ravaged
the frontier settlements of Virginia and Pennsylvania,
from 1785 to 1794, no man could so quiet the trembling
and fear-stricken settlers as Captain Brady. His presence, backed by the band of devoted followers who
always stepped in his foot-prints, was felt as security
every-where. The fond mother, who, in after years,
related to her children the many thrilling incidents of
frontier life which she witnessed and passed through,
never failed, as she thanked her Heavenly Father for
having protected her little innocents from the scalpingknife and tomahawk, to express her heartfelt gratitude
to him who had been the instrumentality of saving her
all from savage barbarity.
   Samuel Brady was born at Shippensburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1756. His father, John Brady, was made a
captain in the Colonial army, for his services in the
old French and Indian wars. The family, at an early
day, moved to the Susquehanna. On the breaking
out of the Revolution, Samuel joined a volunteer company, and marched to Boston. The patriotic fervor of
the youth, prompted the commander to offer young
Brady a commission; but his father objected, thinking
he was too young, saying, " First let him learn the duties of a soldier, and then he will better know how to
act as an officer."
   " In 1776, Samuel Brady was appointed a first lieutenant. He continued with the army, and was in all the
principal engagements, until after the battle of Monmouth, when he was promoted to a captaincy, and
ordered to the West, under Colonel Brodhead. On
their march, he had leave to visit his friends in
Northumberland County. His father, in 1776, had
accepted a captaincy in the twelfth Pennsylvania
regiment, been badly wounded at the battle of Brandywine, and was then at home. Whilst there, he heard
880
CAPTAIN SAAMUEL BRADY.
of his brother's death, who had been murdered by the
Indians, on the ninth of August, 1778. He remained
at home until 1779, and then rejoined his regiment at
Pittsburgh. During the same year, his father was
murdered by the Indians; and then it was that our
hero swore vengeance against the whole race. Terribly,
too, did he keep that vow."
  In 1781, the Indians'became very troublesome in the
settlements above Pittsburgh. Washington, as we have
elsewhere noticed, knew very well that the only guaranty of safety was to strike the enemy at home. With
this view, he directed Colonel Brodhead to send some
suitable person to their towns, who could ascertain
their strength, resources, etc. Colonel Brodhead's keen
military eye saw in Brady the very man for the service,
and giving him the necessary instructions, the gallant
soldier started on his perilous mission, accompanied by
John Williamson and one of the Wetzels: These men
were so completely disguised as Indians, that it would
almost have defied the skill and cunning of a genuine
chief to detect the deception.
  After a hurried march, they reached the Indian town at
Upper Sandusky, shortly after dark. Brady posted his
men, then entered the town, and after a thorough reconnoiter, rejoined his companions, and commenced a rapid
retreat. His keen eye had caught a lurking suspicion
in some of those whom he met, and it was deemed important to get beyond their reach as rapidly as possible.
  With scarcely a moment's intermission, the three
traveled all night, and stopping a few minutes in the
morning, discovered the Indians were in pursuit. Increasing their movements, and adopting the precaution
of traveling upon logs, and avoiding direct routes, the
trio were soon beyond immediate danger. The remainder of that day, all of that night, and part of the
third day, passed without any cause of apprehension.
Fatigued and hungry (their sole diet since leaving
home having been parched corn and jerked venison),
the party concluded to take a rest. Williamson stood
guard while the others slept. Brady, at all times a
great snorer, on this occasion gave vent to sounds that,
381
TVESTIRN AD VENTURE.
in the language of Williamson, "were enough to alarm
all the Indians between here and Sandusky." Thinking a change of position might stop the nasal artillery,
Williamson turned Brady, and then resumed his seat
by the fire. Scarcely had he seated himelf, when he
detected the stealthy tread of a savage. Looking attentatively in the direction of the sound, he saw an Indian
cautiously approach, and waiting until he came nearly
up, the guard took steady aim and fired. One convulsive spring, a heavy fall, and deep groan, were all
that could be seen or heard. His companions sprang
to their feet and moved rapidly off, to avoid an attack;
but this was the only Indian, and the three traveled on
without further attempt at molestation. According to
the account furnished by one of the family, of which
we shall have occasion frequently to avail ourselves
during this notice   " The map furnished by General Brodhead was found
to be defective.  The distance was represented to be
much less than it really was. The provisions and ammunition of the men were exhausted by the time they
had reached the Big Beaver, on their return. Brady
shot an otter, but could not eat it. The last load was
in his rifle. They arrived at an old encampment, and
found plenty of strawberries, which they stopped to
appease their hunger with. Having discovered a deertrack, Brady followed it, telling the men he would perhaps get a shot at it. He had gone but a few rods,
when he saw the deer standing broadside to him. He
raised his rifle and attempted to fire, but it flashed in
the pan. He sat down, picked the touch-hole, and
then started on. After going a short distance, the path
made a bend, and he saw before him a large Indian on
horse-back, with a child before, and its mother behind,
and a number of warriors marching in the rear. His
first impulse was to shoot the Indian on horseback;
but, as he raised the rifle, he observed the child's head
to roll with the motion of the horse. It was fast asleep,
and tied to the Indian. He stepped behind the root of
a tree, and waited until he could shoot the Indian, without danger to the child or its mother.
382
CAPTAIN S-AMUEL BRADY.
   " When he considered the chance certain, he fired,
and the Indian, child, and mother, all fell from the
horse. Brady called to his men, with a voice that made
the forest ring, to surround the Indians, and give them
a general fire. He sprang to the fallen Indian's powderhorn, but could not pull it off. Being dressed like an
Indian, the woman thought lie was one, and said,'Why
did you shoot your brother?' He caught up the child,
saying,'Jenny Stoop, I am Captain Brady; follow me,
and I will secure you and your child.' He caught her
hand in his, carrying the child under the other arm,
and dashed into the brush. Many guns were fired at
him, but no ball touched, and the Indians, dreading an
ambuscade, were glad to make off. The next day he
arrived at Fort M'Intosh, with the woman and her child.
His men had got there before him. They had heard his
war-whoop, and knew they were Indians he had encountered, but having no ammunition, had taken to
their heels and run off."
  "The incursions of the Indians had become so frequent, and their outrages so alarming, that it was
thought advisable to retaliate upon them the injuries
of war, and to carry into the country occupied by them
the same system with which they had visited the settlements. For this purpose an adequate force was provided, under the immediate command of General Brodhead, the command of the advance guard of which was
confided to Captain Brady.
  " The troops proceeded up the Alleghany River, and
had arrived near the mouth of Redbank Creek, now
known by the name of Brady's Bend, without encountering an enemy. Brady and his rangers were some distance in front of the main body, as their duty required,
when they suddenly discovered a war-party of Indians
approaching them. Relying on the strength of the
main body, and its ability to force the Indians to retreat, and anticipating, as Napoleon did in the battle
with the Mamelukes, that, when driven back, they
would return by the same route they had advanced on,
Brady permitted them to proceed without hinderance,
and hastened to seize a narrow pass, higher up the
         34
383
JA MES SMITH. 17

had a full View of them as they passed, and was confi-
dent that they could not exceed four hundred men. He
soon learned that it was detached against Braddock,
who was now Within a few miles of the fort; but from
their great inferiority in numbers, he regarded their
destruction as certain, and looked joyfully to the ar-
rival of Braddock in the evening as the hour which
was to deliver him from the power of the Indians. In
the afternoon, however, an Indian runner arrived with
far different intelligence. The battle had not yet
ended when" he left the field, but he announced that
the English had been surrrounded, and were shot down
in heaps by an invisible enemy; that instead of flying
at once, or rushing upon their concealed foe, they ap-
peared completely bewildered, hnddled together in the
center of the ring, and that before sundown there
would not be a man of them alive.

This intelligence fell like a thunderbolt upon Smith,
who now saw himself irretrievahly in the power of the
savages, and could look forward to nothing but torture
or endless captivity. He waited anxiously for further
intelligence, still hoping that the fortune of the day
might change. But about sunset, he heard at a dis-
tance the well—known scalp halloo, followed by wild,
quick, joyful shrieks, and accompanied by long-con-
tinued firing. This too surely announced the late of
the day. About dusk the party returned to the fort,
driving before them twelve British regulars, stripped
naked, and with their faces painted black! an evidence
that the unhappy wretches were devoted to death.

Next came the Indians, displaying their bloody
scalps—of which they had immense numbers—and
dressed in the scarlet coats, sashes, and military hats
of the officers and soldiers. Behind all came a train of
baggage horses, laden with piles of scalps, canteens,
and all the accouterments of British soldiers. The
savages appeared frantic with joy, and when Smith
beheld them entering the fort dancing, yelling, brandish-
ing their red tomahawks, and waving their scalps in the
air, while the great guns of the fort replied to the in-
cessant discharge of rifles without, he says that it looked

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
river, where the rocks, nearly perpendicular, approached
the river, and a few determined men might successfully
combat superior numbers."
  In a short time the Indians encountered the main
body under Brodhead, and were driven back. In full
and swift retreat they pressed on to gain the pass between the rocks and the river, but it was occupied by
Brady and his rangers, who failed not to pour into
their flying columns a most destructive fire. Many
were killed on the bank, and many more in the stream.
Cornplanter, afterward the distinguished chief of the
Senecas, but then a young man, saved himself by
swimming. The celebrated war-chief of this tribe,
Bald-Eagle, was of the number slain on this occasion.
   "The army moved onward, and after destroying all
the Indians' corn, and ravaging the Kenjua Flats, returned to Pittsburgh.
  "Shortly after Captain Brady's return from Sandusky, he was observed one evening, by a man of the
name of Phouts, sitting in a solitary part of the fort,
apparently absorbed in thought. Phouts approached
him, pained, to the bottom of his honest heart, to perceive that the countenance of Brady bore traces of care
and melancholy. He accosted him, however, in the
best English he had, and soothingly said,'Gabtain,
was ails you?' Brady looked at him a short time without speaking; then, resuming his usual equanimity,
replied,'I have been thinking about the red-skins, and
it is my opinion there are some above us on the river.
I have a mind to pay them a visit. Now, if I get permission to do so, will you go along?' Phouts was a
stout, thick Dutchman, of uncommon strength and activity. He was also well acquainted with the woods.
When Brady had ceased speaking, Phouts raised himself on tiptoe, and bringing his heels hard down on the
ground, by way of emphasis, his eyes full of fire, said,
'By dunder und lightnin, I would rader go mit you,
Gabtain, as to any of te finest weddins in this guntry.'
Brady told him to keep quiet, and say nothing about
it, as no man in the fort must know any thing of the
expedition but General Brodhead.    Bidding Phouts
384
-CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRADY.
to call at his tent in an hour, he then went to the
general's quarters, whom he found reading. After the
usual topics were discussed, Brady proposed, for consideration, his project of ascending the Alleghany, with
but one man in company; statinig his reasons for apprehending a descent, from that quarter, by the Indians.
The general gave his consent; at parting took him by
the hand in a friendly manner, advising him how to
proceed, and charging him particularly to be careful of
his own life, and that of the men or man whom he
might select to accompany him. So affectionate were
the general's admonitions, and so great the emotion he
displayed, that Brady left him with tears in his eyes, and
repaired to his tent, where he found Phouts deep in
conversation with one of his pet Indians.
  " He told Phouts of his success with the general, and
that, as it was early in the light of the moon, they must
get ready and be off betimes.
   "They immediately set about cleaning their guns,
preparing their ammunition, and, having secured a
small quantity of salt, lay down together and slept
sounldly until about two hours before daybreak. Brady
awoke first, and stirring Phouts, each took down the
'deadly rifle,' and whilt all but the sentinels were
wrapped in sleep, they left the little fort, and, in a
short time, found themselves deep buried in the forest.
That day they marched through woods never traversed
by either of them before; following the general course
of the river, they reached a small creek* that put in
from the Pittsburgh side; it was near night when they
got there, and having no provision, they concluded to
remain there all night.
  " Next morning they started early, and traveled all
day; in the evening they espied a number of crows
hovering over the tops of the trees, near the bank of
the river. Brady told Phouts that there were Indiaris
in the neighborhood, or else the men who were expected
from Susquehanna at Pittsburgh were there encamped,
or had been soime time before.
  ".Probably Puckety Creek, which empties into the Alleghany
at Logan's Ferry.
385
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
  " Phouts was anxious to go down and see, but Brady
forbade himn; telling him at the same time,' We must
secrete ourselves till after night, when fires will be made
by them, whoever they may be.' Accordingly, they hid
themselves among fallen timber, and remained so till
about ten o'clock at night. But even then they could
still see no fire. Brady concluded there must be a hill
or thick woods between him and where the crows were
seen, and decided on leaving his hiding-place to ascertain the fact. Phouts accompanied him. They walked,
with the utmost caution, down toward the river bank,
and had gone about two hundred yards, when they
observed the twinkling of a fire, at some distance on
their right. They at first thought the river made a
very short bend, but, on proceeding further, discovered
that it was a fork or branch of the river, probably the
Kiskeminetas. Brady desired Phouts to stay where he
was, intending to go himself to the fire, and see who
was there; but Phouts refused, saying,'No, by George,
I vill see too.' They approached the fire together, but
with the utmost caution; supposing it to be an Indian
encampment, much too large to be attacked by them.
  " Resolved to ascertain the number of the enemy,
Captain Brady and his brave comrade went close up
to the fire, and discovered an old Indian sitting beside
a tree near the fire, either mending or making a pair
of moccasins.
  "Phouts, who never thought of danger, was for
shooting the Indian immediately; but Brady prevented
him. After examining carefully around the camp,
he was of opinion that the number by which it was
made had been large, but that they were principally
absent. He determined on knowing more in the morning; and, forcing Phouts away, retired a short distance
to await the approach of day. As soon as it appeared
they returned to the camp, but saw nothing, except the
old Indian, a dog, and a horse.
  "Brady wished to see the country around the camp,
and understand its features better; for this purpose he
kept-at some distance from it, and examined about, till
he got on the river above it. Here he found a large
386
CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRADY.
trail of Indians, who had gone up the Alleghany; to
his judgment it appeared to have been made one or
two days before. Upon seeing this, he concluded to go
back to the camp and take the old Indian prisoner.
  "Supposing the old savage to have arms about him,
and not wishing to run the risk of the alarm the report
of a rifle might create, if Indians were in the neighborhood, Brady determined to seize the old fellow singlehanded, without doing him further'scath,' and carry
him off' to Pittsburgh. With this view, both crept toward the camp again, very cautiously. When they
came so near as to perceive him, the Indian was lying
on his back, with his head toward them.
  " Brady ordered Phouts to remain where he was, and
not to fire, unless the dog should attempt to assist his
master. In that case he was to shoot the dog, but by
no means to hurt the Indian. The plan being arranged,
Brady dropped his rifle, and, tomahawk in hand,
silently crept toward the old man, until within a few
feet, then raising himself up, he made a spring like a
panther, and with a yell that awakened the echoes
round, seized the Indian hard and fast by the throat.
The old man struggled a little at first, but Brady's
was the grip of a lion; holding his tomahawk over
the head of his prisoner, he bade him surrender, as he
valued his life.  The dog behaved very civilly; he
merely growled a little. Phouts came up, and they
tied their prisoner. On examining the camp they found
nothing of value, except some powder and lead, which
they threw into the river. When the Indian learned that
he was to be taken to Pittsburgh, and would be kindly
treated, he showed them a canoe, which they stepped
into with their prisoner and his dog, and were soon
afloat on the Alleghany. They paddled swiftly along,
for the purpose of reaching the mouth of the run on
which they had encamped coming up, for Brady had
left his wiping-rod there. It was late when they got to
the creek's mouth. They landed, made a fire, and all
laid down.
   " As. soon as daylight appeared, the captain started
to where they left some jerk hanging on the evening
387
3WESTERN AD VENTURE.
before, leaving Phouts in charge of the prisoner and
his canoe. He had not left the camp long, till the Indian complained to Phouts that the cords upon his
wrists hurt him. He had probably discovered that in
Phouts' composition there was a much larger proportion of kindness than of fear. The Dutchman at once
took off the cords, and the Indian was, or pretended
to be, very grateful. Phouts was busied with something else in a minute, and had left his gun standing
by a tree. The moment the Indian saw that the eye
of the other was not upon him, he sprang to the tree,
seized the gun, and the first Phouts knew was that it
was cocked and at his breast. The trigger was pulled,
but the bullet whistled harmless past him, taking with
it a part of his shot-pouch belt. One stroke of the
Dutchman's tomahawk settled the Indian forever, and
nearly severed the head from his body.
  "Brady heard the report of the rifle, and the yell of
Phouts; and supposing all was not right, ran instantly
to the spot, where he found the latter sitting on the
body of the Indian, examining the rent in his shotpouch belt.'In the name of Heaven,' said Brady,
'what have you done?''Yust look, Gabtain,' said
the fearless Dutchman,'vat dis d-d black b-h vas
apout;' holding up to view the hole in his belt. He
then related what has been stated with respect to his
untying the Indian, and the attempt of the latter to
kill him. They then took off the scalp of the Indian,
got their canoe, took in the Indian's dog, and returned
to Pittsburgh the fourth day after their departure."
  Beaver Valley was the scene of many of Captain
Brady's stirring adventures. We have recently visited
some of the interesting localities, celebrated as Brady's
theater of action, and heard from many of the older
citizens their accounts of his thrilling exploits. They
speak in unbounded terms of admiration of his daring
and success; his many hair-breath escapes by "field
and flood;" and always concluded by declaring that
he was a greater man than Daniel Boone or Lewis
Wetzel, either of whom, in the eyes of the old pioneers,
was the very embodiment of dare-devilism.
1388
CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRADY.
  The following, illustrating one of Brady's adventures
in the region referred to, we give from a published
source. In one of his trapping and hunting excursions,
he was surprised and taken prisoner by a party of Indians who had closely watched his movements.
  "To have shot or tomahawked him would have been
but a small gratification to that of satiating their revenge by burning him at a slow fire, in the presence
of all the Indians of their village. He was therefore
taken alive to their encampment, on the west bank of
the Beaver River, about a mile and a half from its
mouth. After the usual exultations and rejoicings at
the capture of a noted enemy, and causing him to run
the gauntlet, a fire was prepared, near which Brady
was placed after being stripped, and with his arms unbound.   Previous to tying,him to the stake, a large
circle was formed around, of Indian men, women, and
children, dancing and yelling, and uttering all manner
of threats and abuses that their small knowledge of
the English language could afford. The prisoner looked
on these preparations for death and on his savage foe
with a firm countenance and a steady eye, meeting all
their threats with truly savage fortitude. In the midst
of their dancing and rejoicing, a squaw of one of their
chiefs came near him with a child in her arms. Quick
as thought, and with intuitive prescience, he snatched
it from her and threw it into the midst of the flames.
Horror stricken at the sudden outrage, the Indians
simultaneously rushed to rescue the infant from the
fire. In the midst of this confusion, Brady darted
from the circle, overturning all that came in his way,
and rushed into the adjacent thicket, with the Indians
yelling at his heels. He ascended the steep side of a
hill amidst a shower of bullets, and darting down the
opposite declivity, secreted himself in the deep ravines
and laurel thickets that abound for several miles to the
west. His knowledge of the country, and wonderful
activity, enabled him to elude his enemies, and reach
the settlements in safety."
  From one of Brady's old soldiers-one of the noble
spies, who, in 1851, had not answered to the roll-call
389
"" WESTERN AD VENTURE.
of death-one who served with him three years, during
the most trying and eventful period of his life, we have
gathered the facts of the fbllowing incident. On one
of their scouting expeditions into the Indian country,
the spies, consisting at that time of sixteen men, encamped for the night at a place called "Big Shell
Camp." Toward morning, one of the guard heard the
report of a gun, and immediately communicating the
fact to his commander, a change of position was
ordered. Leading his men to an elevated point, the
Indian camp was discovered almost beneath them.
Cautiously advancing in the direction of the camp, six
Indians were discovered standing around the fire, while
several others lay upon the ground, apparently asleep.
Brady ordered his men to wrap themselves in their
blankets and lie down, while he kept watch. Two
hours thus passed without any thing materially occurring. As day began to appear, Brady roused his men
and posted them side by side, himself at the end of
the line. When all were in readiness, the commander
was to touch, with his elbow, the man who stood next
to him, and the communication was to pass successively to the farthest end. The orders then were, the
moment the last man was touched, he should fire, which
was to be the signal for a general discharge. With the
first faint ray of light rose six Indians, and stood around
the fire. With breathless expectation the whites waited
for the remainder to rise, but failing, and apprehending
a discovery, the captain moved his elbow, and the next
instant the wild wood rang with the shrill report of
the rifles of the spies. Five of the six Indians fell
dead, but the sixth, screened by a tree, escaped. The
camp being large, it was deemed unsafe to attack it
further, and a retreat was immediately ordered.
  Soon after the above occurence, in returning from a
similar expedition, and when about two miles from the
mouth of Yellow Creek, at a place admirably adapted
for an ambuscade, a solitary Indian stepped forward
and fired upon the advancing company. Instantly, on
firing, he retreated toward a deep ravine, into which
the savage hoped to lead his pursuers. But Brady
390
CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRADY.
detected the trick, and, in a voice of thunder, ordered
his men to tree. No sooner had this been done, than
the concealed foe rushed forth in great numbers, and
opened upon the whites a perfect storm of leaden hail.
The brave spies returned the fire with spirit and effect;
but as they were likely to be overpowered by superior
numbers, a retreat wvas ordered to the top of the hill,
and thence continued until out of danger.
  The whites lost one man in this engagement, and
two wounded. The Indian loss is supposed to have
been about twenty, in killed and wounded.
  Captain Brady possessed all the elements of a brave
and successful soldier. Like Marion, "he consulted
with  his men respectfully, heard them     patiently,
weighed their suggestions, and silently approached his
own conclusions. They knew his determination only
by his actions." Brady had but few superiors as a
woodman: he would strike out into the heart of the
wilderness, and, with no guide but the sun by day, and
the stars by night, or in their absence, then by such
natural marks as the bark and tops of trees, he would
move on steadily in a direct line toward his point of
destination. He always avoided beaten paths and the
borders of streams, and never was known to. leave his
track behind him. In this manner he eluded pursuit,
and defied detection. He was often vainly hunted by
his own men, and was more likely to find them than
they him.
  Such was Brady, the leader of the spies.
                     THE END.
35
391
INDEX.
                          PAGE
Adoption, manner of Indian... 19
Adventures of--
   Col. Jas. Smith................ 13
   Daniel Boone.................. 45
   Simon Kenton................. 87
   Gen. Benjamin Logan...... 118
   Col. Wm. Crawford...........128
   Dr. Knight...................128
   John Slover...................145
   Capt. Robert Benham....... 159
   Alexander McConnel........ 161
   Rob't and Sam'l McAfee... 164
   Bryant and Hogan........... 167
   McKinley....................169
   David Morgan.................71
   Andrew Poe....................174
   Mrs. Woods...................180
   Davis, Caffree and  Mc      Clure........................181
   Capt. James Ward............185
   Francis Downing.............187
   The Widow Shanks.......... 189
   A Wild White Man.......... 193
   Mrs. John Merril.............197
   Charles Ward, Calvin and
      Kenton...................199
   James Ward, Baker and
      Kenton.....................205
   May, Johnston, Flinn and
      Skyles...................... 207
   Capt. William Hubbell......243
   Jackson Johonnet............255
   William Kennan..........270
   Lieut. Col. Darke.............276
   Private Miller................281
   Two Johnson boys.....286, 374
   Robinson.....................293
   Lewis Wetzel.................335
   Jacob Wetzel................337
   John Wetzel................ 355
   Kinzie Dickerson.............357
   Maj. Sam. McColloch.......362
   John McColloch..............369
   Boys Wetzel and Erlewyne.371
   Capt. Sam. Brady............379
                          PAGE
Aiken, death of....................256
Arbuckle, Capt.....................301
Armstrong, Capt., sent against
   the Indians....................253
Baker................................ 205
Baker's Station...................337
Bald Eagle, murder of...........292
Bear, Indian fight with.........189
   entrapped......................315
Bell, used by Indians as a de   coy...............................371
Benham, Robert, adventure
   of................................. 159
Big Foot, death of the Indian..178
Biggs, Thomas, death of........357
Blackfish, Indian chief.......... 103
Blue Licks, battle of........... 76
   capture of salt party at..... 54
Boats attacked........211, 216, 217
                      245, 246
Boone, Daniel, adventures of.. 45
   starts for Kentucky.......... 46
   captured by Indians......... 47
   family start for Kentucky.. 50
   death of eldest son........... 50
   capture of daughter.......... 53
   captured at Blue Licks..... 54
   ransom refused for............ 55
   escape of...................... 56
   Paint Creek expedition..... 59
   death of his brother.......... 61
   memoirs of himself........... 85
   moves to Louisiana.......... 85
Boonesborough, first attack on. 52
   again attacked........53, 54, 57
   nine days' siege of............ 60
Bowman, Col., arrival of........ 54
   expedition............. 121
Boys, captivity of two...........371
   bravery of...248, 286, 371, 374
Braddock's defeat, incidents
     of............................. 17
   army, slaughter of............296
Brady, John...............380, 381
                   (393)
18 WESTERN AD VENTURE.

as if h—ll had given a holiday and turned loose its in-
habitants upon the upper wo1'ld.

The most melancholy spectacle was the band of pris-
oners. They appeared dejected and anxious. ‘ Poor fel-
lows! They had but a few months before left London, at
the command of their superiors, and we may easily im-
agine their feelings at the strange and dreadful spectacle
around them. The yells of delight and congratulation
were scarcely over when those of vengeance began.
The devoted prisoners British regulars—-Were led out
from the fort to the banks of the Alleghany, and to
the eternal disgrace of the. French commandant, were
there burnt to death, one after another, with the most
awful tortures.

Smith stood upon the battlements and witnessed the
shocking spectacle. The prisoner was tied to a stake,
with his hands raised above his head, stripped naked,
and surrounded by Indians. They would touch him
with red—hot irons, and stick his body full of pine splin-
ters and set them on fire, drowning the shrieks of the
victim in the yells of delight with which they danced
around him. His companions in the meantime stood in
a group near the stake, and had a foretaste of What was
in reserve for each of them. As fast as one prisoner died
under his tortures, another filled his place, until the whole
perished. All this took place so near the fort that every
scream of the victims must have rung in the ears of the
French commandant.

Two or three days after this shocking spectacle, most
of the Indian tribes dispersed and returned to their
homes, as is usual with them after a great and decisive
battle. Young Smith was demanded of the French by
the tribe to whom he belonged, and was immediately
surrendered into their hands.

The party embarked in canoes, and ascended the Al-
leghany River as far as a small Indian town about forty
miles above Fort Du Quesne. There they abandoned
their canoes, and, striking into the woods, traveled in a
western direction, until they arrived at a considerable
Indian town in what is now the,State of Ohio. This
village was called Tullihas, and was situated upon the

394
INDEX.
                           PAGE
Brady, Capt. Samuel.............379
   stratagem.....................383
   and Phouts' expedition.....384
   captures an Indian...........387
   capture and escape............389
Breckinridge, Dr. Robert J...xxiii
Briscoe, Dr., exploring party of 91
British regulars burned......... 18
Brodhead, Col., ordered West..380
Brooks,William, aids Hubbell.249
Bryant's station, attack on.66, 70
Bryant, Win., settles a sta   tion.......................166, 168
Bullitt, Capt........................ 92
Butler, Clarke, Patterson, Ma   jors.....................264, 303
Butler, Major-General under
   St. Clair.............. 264, 306
Cabin built by Kenton........... 93
Calloway, Misses, capture of.. 53
Calvin, Spencer...................199
Calvin, Luther, Capt............. 199
Campaigns compared............309
Campbell, Capt., British com   mandant,.......................284
Camp Union........................295
Catawba Indians, cunning of.. 22
Catfish, large, caught............370
Chickatommo, chief, fate of.... 241
Chillicothe, Indian town of.55, 56
Christian, Col......................295
Clark, Col. George Rogers, ex   pedition of.................83, 353
Clark, Major.......................305
Collins, Judge Lewis.............xxi
Coon-hunt, incidents of......... 32
Cornplanter.................... 384
Cornstalk's resignation..........302
Courtship, Indian............... 21
Cowardly actions.....199, 200, 203
Crawford, Col. William, ad   ventures.........................128
Cresap,Capt., murders Logan's
   family.......................... 92
Dances, Indian.....................315
Darke, Lieut. Col...........265, 303
Delzel, Capt.......................331
Denton, Mrs.........................  52
Devine..............................213
Dickerson, Kinzie, escape of...357
Dickerson, Veach.................345
Downing, Francis, adventure..187
Dream and its cause..............225
   of McIntyre..............203, 204
Duchouquet ransoms Johnston 228
Dunlap, Mrs., escape............164
Dunmore's expedition............295
Du Quesne, Fort, erected........ 13
Du Quesne, Capt...................... 58
Dutchman, named Jacob........372
Dutchman, named Phouts......384
Edwards, Col.......................192
Emigrants being decoyed.......208
Erlewyne, Fred'k, capture of..371
Estill's station..................... 62
Estill, Capt., defeat............. 64
Expedition of
   Col. Bowman...................121
   Col. George Rogers Clark... 83
   Crawford........................128
Female, captive, released.......353
   courage,........ 67, 180, 191, 198
Ferguson, Maj........306, 264, 304
Fields, Col. John...............295
Findley, little known of......... 45
First explorer of Kentucky..... 14
   white woman in Kentucky 52
   house in interior of Ky..... 52
Fitzpatrick, found by Kenton. 94
Fleming, Misses, two sisters...207
                       211, 240
   Col. William....................295
Flinn...........................207, 230
Forbes, Gen., advance of........ 31
Ford, Capt.......................305
Fort, British, destruction of...284
   Defiance......................285
   at Detroit.................327, 331
   Harmer...........................345
   Holliday........................367
   McIntosh........................383
   Pitt..............................  90
   at Point Pleasant.............301
   Recovery.....................279
   Van Metre.....................368
   Washington..285, 278, 252, 263
Fowler, Major.....................350
Gaither, Bedinger, Majors.265,303
Gilmore killed....................302
Girty, James, advice of... 107, 184
   Simon..................62. 71, 363
YAGE
INDEX.
                            PAGE
 Girty, Simon, pleads for Ken    ton..............................109
 Gladwyn, Major..................327
 Glenn, Thomas, escape of......364
 Graham, Lieut................. 332
 Grant, companion of Bryant...168
    and Lewis, quarrel...........297
 Greathouse, Jacob............... 89
   Capt.,whipped to death 246,250
 Greaton, Capt....................305
 Habea8s Corpus,Wetzel released
    by.................................351
- Hartshorn, Lieut., escape......253
Hamilton, Gov. of Canada......363
Hardin, Col., and militia........253
Harland, Major................ 76
Harmer, Gen., sent against In       dian villages.........252, 344
    expedition, result of.........255
 Harrison, Col., death of.........150
 Harrod, Jas., settles Harrods    burgh.............................  52
 Harrodsburgh, attack on....... 53
 Hart and Clark, Majors.........306
 Heart of Maj. McColloch eaten370
 Hedges, Joseph, death of.......357
 Hendricks,found by Kenton 94, 95
 HIerochche's address..............324
 Hog, killed by Indians.........372
    causes death of 3 Indians..372
 Hogan, Mrs........................ 52
    James...........................167
 Holder, Capt., defeat of......... 65
 Horses, race after wild........... 26
 IIough, John, escape of...357, 358
 Hoy's station..................... 65
 Hubbell, Capt. Wm........243, 245
 Human sacrifices common...... 35
Indian town, Tallihas............
   adoption, manner of.........
   courtship.........................
   custom, to invite visitors to
      eat...........................
   pastimes........................
   hospitality     of..............
   endurance of...................
   discipline with children.....
   punishment of children......
   deserted by squaw............
   superstition of................
   conjuror..........................
18
19
21
21
24
25
25
27
27
28
28
29
395
                           PAGE
Indian medicine man............ 29
   military principles of........ 30
   sagacity of.................... 30
   contempt for book-learning 31
   woodcraft with............... 31
   fondness for rum............ 34
   drunken revels of........... 34
   religion of..................... 35
   theology, beautiful........... 35
   sweating house of............ 41
   mining by..................... 58
   destruction of villages....... 84
   Chief Blackfish...............103
   fight with a bear..............189
   humane action of..............213
   booty captured by............218
   war-dance.....................225
   manners (the chase).........310
   shot in time of peace.........345
   capture of, by Brady.........387
Indian race, destiny of..........xiii
Indians, preparations for an
      encounter................ 215
   noble conduct of...............240
   incident of three brothers..286
   eat heart of McColloch...... 370
Johnson boys, capture of the
      two............................374
   Henry, letter of..............374
   companion of Kenton...... 89
Johnston, Charles....207, 212, 230
Johonnet, Jackson, adventure.255
Kennan, Wm., escape............270
   heroic act of..................274
Kennedy,Mrs.Mary,a prisoner 107
Kenton, Simon...87, 199, 205, 360
   adventure with his rival... 87
   changes name to Butler..... 89
   travels with Johnson........ 89
   at Big Bone in 1774......... 92
   cabin built by................ 93
   on a secret mission........... 97
   capture of.......................101
   tortured........................104
   runs the gauntlet.............104
   attempted escape..............106
   finds a friend.................108
   rescued by Drewyer..........113
   taken to Detroit..............114
   escapes, with others..........115
   death of..........................117
396
INDEX.
Kentucky, tribute to............. xii
   bravery of.................... xii
   Colonization society.........xiii
   first explorer of.............. 14
Kerr, Hamilton, escape of......370
   shoots Indians.................372
Kilpatrick killed............243, 248
Kirkwood, Capt....................275
Knight,Dr.,captured 128, 135, 141
Leap of Major McColloch......368
Lee, Hancock...................... 92
   Gen. Henry, of Virginia....277
Leitchman, adventures of...... 87
Lewis, Col. Charles..........295, 297
Lewis, Gen., with Dunmore...295
   personal appearance.........298
   battle with Indians..........299
Lewis, companion of Clark.....355
Lexington, house built in...... 61
Light, Daniel.......................243
Linn, Mr., death of...............357
Little Turtle........................275
Logan, murder of family of.... 92
   benevolence towardKenton113
   death.......................... 300
Logan's Station, attack on..53, 54
Logan, Gen. Benj., adventures 118
   moves to Kentucky...........118
   settles Logan's Station...... 119
   noble deed of..................119
   expedition of...................121
Madison, John, death of........355
Mahon, John..................... 89
Marshall, Col. Thomas.......... 183
Marshall,Capt.Thos.,attacked 216
Marshall, Dr. Louis, as a
   teacher.........................  v
Marshall's school................ v
Mason, Capt. Samuel, defeat
   of.................................364
Masquerade before DuQuesne.. 30
Master of life, Indian trust in
   the.............................. 321
May, John, surveys lands......207
McAfee, James...................165
   Robert, adventure............165
   Samuel, adventure............164
   Station, attack on............166
McBride, Major.................... 76
McCleland, Colonel, supposed
   death............................150
PAGE
                           PAGE
McClung, John A................
   birth and parentage.........     v
   early education...............   v
   studies theology............. vi
   marriage...................... vi
   licensed to preach........... vi
   scholarship..................... vii
   remarkable memory......... vii
   popularity as a preacher... vii
   wavers in his faith........... vii
   writes "Sketches of West      ern Adventure."......... vii
   writes " Camden," a novel.viii
   how  he wrote..................viii
   retires from the ministry...viii
   studies law...................viii
   as a lawyer.................... ix
   in the Kentucky Legisla      ture.........................  x
   speech on railroad bill....... x
   Railroad bank at Charles      ton...........................  xi
   withdraws from public life. xii
   speech on Colonization......xiii
   seeks to prove the Scrip      tures untrue...............xvii
   and then seeks light.......xviii
   again joins the church......xix
   at the water-cure............. xx
   re-licensed and ordained... xx
   synopsis of labors of.........xxi
   remarkable congregations.xxii
   is made a D. D..............xxii
   speech in General Assem      bly........................xxii
   striking effect of............xxiii
   accepts a call to Mays      ville........................xxiii
   domestic habits of...........xxiv
   his daughter's tribute to..xxiv
   familiar with the poets...xxiv
   success of his ministry.....xxv
   teacher of the Scriptures..xxvi
   character of expositions...xxvi
   touching incident...........xxvii
   death of.....................xxviii
   family of.....................xxviii
   personal appearance of..xxviii
   personal attributes.........xxix
   Mrs. Susan, sketch of.......    v
   Miss Anna Maria............xxv
   Miss Sue......................xxiv
   Mrs., death of..............xxviii
INDEX.
                          PAGE
McColloch, Abraham.............362
McColloch, John.................362
   adventure of..................369
McColloch, Major Samuel......362
   adventure of..............367, 369
   fearful leap of..................368
   heart eaten by savages......370
McCollough,Wm., escape.357, 358
McConnell, Alex., adventure..161
   Hugh, escape of.......... 364
McGary, at Blue Licks.......75, 80
   murders Indian chief........127
   fight with Indians............166
McGary, Mrs..................... 52
McIntyre as spy...................200
McIntyre, David..................355
McKee, Col., Indian agent.....284
McKinley, death of Capt.......137
McKinney, fight with wild cat 169
McMahan, Maj., expedition of 339
   prevents massacre............346
Memminger, Colonel, of South
   Carolina.................... x, xii
Merrill, John, attack on house
   of.............................. 197
Messhawa....................215, 241
   kindness to Johnston.......221
   saves lives of children.......226
Michillimackinac, massacre of.333
Miller, Lieut., at Estill's defeat 63
Mills, Thomas, escape of........370
Mills, Thomas, death of.........338
Moluntha, murdered..............127
Montgomery, accompanies Ken   ton......................... 97, 102
Morgan, David, combat with
   Indians......................171
Netherland, bravery of.......... 77
Night attack upon Indians.....201
Nungany, Indian boy........... 35
Oaths picked up by Indians...102
O'Fallon, Major...................315
Ogle, Serg. Jacob, escape........364
   Capt. Joseph....................362
Oldham, Lieut. Col..............306
Paint Creek, defeat of Indians 57
Patterson, Capt., escape of...... 78
Phouts, narrow escape of.......388
Plascut, William............243, 248
397
                           PAGE
Poe, Adam.........................174
   Andrew,fight with Big Foot174
Pontiac's conspiracy..............330
Railroad from Charleston to
   Cincinnati.................  x
Reynolds, Aaron, speech........ 72
   noble conduct of............... 78
Rodgers, Major, attacked......158
Rogers, Major.....................332
Robinson and Hellen, capture.293
   life saved by Logan..........294
Sackville, adventure.......257, 261
Schooner attacked by Pon   tiac............................. 332
Shelby, Capt. Isaac..............300
Shepherd, Wm., death of........364
Sheppard, Col. David............364
Skyles, Jac., starts for Ky.207, 232
   at Indian village..............234
Slover, John, narrative of......145
   captive with the Indians...145
   in Crawford's defeat..........145
   is captured......................49
   saved by rain................154
Smith, Col. James, adventures 13
   his head "picked "......... 17
   ears and nose bored.......... 17
   ducked by squaws.......... 18
   narrative of......................... 44
Smith, Henry, death of.........370
Station, Baker's..................337
   Boonesborough or Boone's. 52
   Bryant's...................66, 166
   Estill's.........................  62
   Harrodsburgh or Harrod's. 52
   H oy's...........................  65
   Kelly's, on Kenawha........207
   Logan's...................53, 54
   McAfee, attack on............ 166
St. Clair's, Gen. A., expedition 263
   censure of................269, 308
   treatment by Congress...... 270
   official letter..................303
Stoner, John.................243, 248
Strader............................89, 91
Stuart, John, captured by In   dians.........................47, 48
Swearingen, Col. Andrew.......367
Sweating-house of Indian...... 41
Symmes, Judge, grants habeas
   corpus........................ 351
398                       INI
                           PAGE
Tecaughnetanego, chief.30, 32, 35
Theology, example of Indian. 35
Thomas.......................213, 214
Tobacco, Indian prayer for..... 42
Todd, Levy, death of............ 76
Todd, Rev. John............... vii
Tomlinson, clearing of...........372
Thompson, Wm. R. as a
   teacher.........................  v
Tontileaugo, Indian warrior... 23
Trigg, Col.......................  76
Tucker......................243, 248
Turkey-call, used as decoy.....342
Van Metre's Fort.............368
Washington, Gen., censured...277
Washington, George, death of
   Indian................... 345
Ward, Capt. Charles..............199
Ward, Capt. James.............185
   boat of, attacked..............185
   attack on Indians............205
Ward, John............107, 204, 206
Warrior,Chickasaw,activity of 274
Wayne, An., incidents of..277, 278
Wetzel, Jacob, capture of.......337
Wetzel, John, father of Lewis.337
   adventures of............355, 359
   escape of.................357, 358
Wetzel, John, Jr., capture of
   and escape...................371
Wetzel, Lewis, adventures
      of................335, 340, 351
)EX.
                           PAGE
Wetzel, Lewis, character of....335
   Indian dread of..............337
   capture of.....................337
   kills three Indians.339,343,351
   kills a turkey-caller.........342
   custom of................342
   kills another Indian...344, 345
   captured by Harmer's men.347
   escape of.....................348
   released................. 349
   captured by Lawler..........350
   petition for release............351
   imprisoned in New Orleans 353
   reply of to Mrs. Cookis......354
   fools an Indian..............354
   death of.......................354
Wetzel, Martin, escape of......365
Wheeling, first siege of..........362
White woman & child rescued..383
Whittaker.....................238, 241
Wild cat, adventure with.......169
Wild white man, account of...193
Williams, Isaac..................372
Wilson, Ensign, shot.............276
Worrall, Rev. John M.......xxviii
W ood, Dr..........................  92
Wood, Mrs., defense of..........180
Woods, Mrs. Hamilton..........343
Wyllys, Major, battle with In   dians............................. 254
Yager...............................  89
Yates, adventure of..............187
I
.r
JAMES ISMITTH.
western branch of the Muskingum. During the whole
of this period, Smith suffered much anxiety from the
uncertainty of his future fate; but at this town all doubt
was removed. On the morning of his arrival, the principal members of the tribe gathered around him, and
one old man, with deep gravity, began to pluck out his
hair by the roots, while the others looked on in silence,
smoking their pipes with great deliberation.
  Smith did not understand the design of this singular
ceremony, but submitted very patiently to the man's
labors, who performed the operation of "picking" him
with great dexterity, dipping his fingers in ashes occasionally, in order to take a better hold. In a very few
moments Smith's head was bald, with the exception of a
single long tuft upon the center of his crown, called the
"scalp-lock." This was carefillly plaited in such a manner as to stand upright, and was ornamented with several silver brooches. His ears and nose were then bored
with equal gravity, and ornamented with ear-rings and
nose-jewels. He was then ordered to strip; which being done, his naked body was painted in various fantastic colors, and a br(ech-cloth fastened around his
loins. A belt of wampum was then fastened around his
neck, and silver bands around his right arm.
  To all this Smith submitted'with much anxiety, being
totally ignorant of their customs, and dreading lest, like
the British prisoners, he had been stripped and painted
for the stake. His alarm was increased, when an old
chief arose, took him by the arm, and leading him out
into the open air, gave three shrill whoops, and was
instantly surrounded by every inhabitant of the village,
warriors, women, and children.  The chief then addressed the crowd in a long speech, still holding Smith
by the hand. When lie had ceased speaking, he led
Smith forward, and delivered him into the hands of
three young Indian girls, who, grappling him without
ceremony, towed him off to the river which ran at the
foot of the hill, dragged him in the water up to his
breast, and all three suddenly clapping their hands upon
his head, attempted to put him under. Utterly desperate at the idea of being drowned by these young
19
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
ladies, Smith made a manful resistance; the squaws
persevered; and a prodigi ous splashing of the water
took place, amidst loud peals of laughter from   the
shore.
  At length, one of the squaws became alarmed at the
furious struggles of the young white man, and cried out
earnestly several times, "No hurt you! no hurt you!"
Upon this agreeable intelligence, Smith's resistance
ceased, and these gentle creatures plunged him under
the water, and scrubbed him from head to foot with
equal zeal and perseverance. As soon as they were
satisfied, they led him ashore and presented him to the
chief, shivering with cold, and dripping with water.
The Indians then dressed him in a ruffled shirt, leggins,
and moccasins, variously ornamented, seated him upon
a bearskin, and gave him a pipe, tomahawk, tobacco,
pouch, flint, and steel.  The chiefs then took their
seats by his side, and smoked for several minutes in
deep silence, when the eldest delivered a speech,
through an interpreter, in the following words: "My
son, you are now one of us. Hereafter, you have
nothing to fear. By an ancient custom, you have been
adopted in the room of a brave man, who has fallen;
and every* drop of white blood has been washed from
your veins. We are now your brothers, and are bound
by our law to love you, to defend you, and to avenge
your injuries, as much as if you were born in our
tribe."
  He was then introduced to the members of the family
into which he had been adopted, and was received by
the whole of them with great demonstrations of regard.
In the evening, he received an invitation to a great
feast; and was there presented with a wooden bowl and
spoon, and directed to fill the former from a huge
kettle of boiled corn and hashed venison. The evening
concluded with a war dance, and on the next morning
the warriors of the tribe assembled, and leaving one or
two hunters, to provide for their families in their absence, the rest marched off for the frontiers of Virginia.
In leaving the village, the warriors observed the most
profound silence, with the exception of their leader,
20
JAIM.ES SMITH.I
who sung the traveling song, as it is called; and when
some distance off, they discharged their rifles slowly,
and in regular succession, beginning in front, and ending with the rear. As soon as the warriors had left
them, Smith was invited to a dance, in which the Indian
boys and young unmarried squaws assembled, and entertained themselves for several hours together. They
formed in two lines facing each other, at the distance
of about twenty feet. One of the young men held a
gourd in his hand, filled with pebbles, or beads, which
he rattled in such a manner as. to produce music, and
all the dancers, singing in concert with their leader,
moved forward in a line until the parties met; then
retired, and repeated the same exercise for hours, without the least variation.
  Young Smith was merely a spectator in this scene,
and his chief entertainment arose from observing the
occasional symptoms of gallantry and coquetry which
diversified the monotony of the dance.   Heads were
often bent close together as the two lines met, and soft
whispers, ogling glances, and an occasional gentle tap
on the cheek, convinced Smith, that Indians are not so
insensible to the charms of their squaws as has been
represented. An Indian courtship is somewhat different from ours. With them, all the coyness, reserve,
and pretty delays, are confined to the gentlemen. The
young squaws are bold, forward, and by no means
delicate in urging their passion; and a particularly
handsome or promising young hunter is often reduced
to desperate extremities, to escape the toils of these
female Lotharios. Smith was uniformly treated with
the greatest kindness, and was for some time particularly distressed by the pressing invitations to eat, which
he received from all quarters.
  With the Indians, it is uniformly the custom to
invite every visitor to eat, as soon as he enters the
wigwam; and if he refuses, they are much offended,
regarding it as an evidence of hostility to them, and
contempt for their housekeeping. Smith, ignorant of
this circumstance, was sometimes pressed to eat twenty
times in a day, and observing their dark and suspicious
21
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
glances when he declined their hospitality, he endeavored at length to satisfy them at the risk of stuffing
himself to death. Making it a point to eat with all
who invited him, he soon found himself in great favor,
and in the course of a week after his adoption an old
chief honored him with an invitation to hunt with him.
Smith readily consented.   At the distance of a few
miles from the village, they discovered a number of
buffalo tracks. The old Indian regarded them atten-.
tively, and followed them with great caution, stopping
frequently to listen, and, rolling his eyes keenly in every
direction. Smith, surprised at this singular conduct,
asked him why he did not push on more rapidly, and
endeavor to get a shot.  " Hush! " said the Indian,
shaking his head, " may be buffalo-may be Catawba!"
  Having at length satisfied himself that they were
really buffalo, he pushed on more rapidly, and on the
way, assigned his reasons for his hesitation. He said
that the Catawbas had long been at war with his tribe,
and were the most cunning and wicked nation in the
world. That, a few years ago, they had secretly approached his camp in the night, and sent out a few of
their spies, mounted upon buffalo hoofs, who walked
round their camp, and then returned to the main body.
That, in the morning, he and his warriors, perceiving
their tracks, supposed a herd of buffalo to be ahead of
them, and moved on rapidly in pursuit.  That they
soon fell into the ambuscade, were fired on by the
Catawbas, and many of them killed. The Catawbas,
however, quickly gave way, and were pursued by his
young men with great eagerness. But they had taken
the precaution to stick a number of slender reeds in the
grass, sharpened like a pen, and dipped in rattlesnake's
poison, that, so as his young men pursued them eagerly,
most of them were artificially snake-bitten, and lamed.
That the Catawbas then turned upon them, overpowered them, and took the scalps of all who had been
lamed by the reeds.     The old man concluded by
shaking his head, and declaring that " Catawba was a
very bad Indian; a perfect devil for mischief."
  Smith, however, was so unfortunate a few days after22
JAMES SMIITH.
ward, as to fall into discredit with these simple people.
He had been directed to go out and kill some venison
for the squaws and children, who had suffered for
several days, during the absence of the greater part of
the warriors. As this was the first time that he had
been intrusted with so weighty a commission alone, he
determined to signalize his hunt by an unusual display
of skill and enterprise. He, therefore, struck out boldly
into the woods, and at a few miles dit4ance, falling
upon a firesh buffalo trail, he pushed on for several
miles with great eagerness. Despairing, however, of
overtaking them, as the evening came on he began to
retrace his steps, and as he had taken a considerable
circuit, he determined to cut across the hills, and reach
the village by a shorter way. He soon became inextricably involved in the mazes of the forest, and at
dark found himself completely bewildered. He fired'
his gun repeatedly, in hopes of being heard, but his signal was unanswered, and he wandered through the woods
the whole night, totally unable to find his way home.
  Early in the morning, the Indians, probably suspecting him for desertion, started out in pursuit of him,
but observing the zigzag manner in which the young
woodsman had marched, they soon became satisfied of
the truth, and their anger was changed to laughter and
contempt. Smith's rifle was taken from him, and a
bow and arrow (the weapons of a boy) were placed in
his hands; and although he was treated with undiminished kindness by all, yet it was evident that it was
mingled with complassion and contempt for his ignorance of the woods. He was now placed under the
particular care of Tontileaugo, his adopted brother,
and a renowned hunter and warrior. With the aid of
his directions, he soon learned all the mysteries of
hunting. He trapped beaver, killed deer, bear, and
buffilo with great readiness, and, in the course of the
winter, rose considerably in reputation. The warriors
were still absent, and the women and children depended
on them entirely for subsistence.
  Sometimes they were three days without food; particularly, when the snow became hard, and the noise
         4
23
*1r
2WESTERN AD VENTURE.
which they made in walking on the crust frightened
the deer, so that they could not come within gunshot.
Their only resource, then, was to hunt bear trees; that
is, for large hollow trees in which bears lay concealed
during the winter. The hole is generally from thirty
to fifty feet from the ground, and they are often compelled to climb up and apply fire, in order to drive
Bruin out, who obstinately maintains his ground until
nearly stifled with smoke, and then, sneezing and snuffling, and growling, he shows himself at the mouth of
his hole, for a little fiesh air. The hunter stations
himself below, and fires upon him  as soon as he appears. Toward spring, the warriors generally return,
and game is then killed in abundance.
  We shall here pause in our narrative, to mention
some traits of Indian character and manners, which,
perhaps, will be interesting to many of our readers,
who have not had opportunities of informing themselves on the subject. The lives of the men are passed
in alternate action of the most violent kind, and indolence the most excessive. Nothing but the pressing
call of hunger will rouse them to much exertion.
  In the months of August and September, when roasting-ears are abundant, they abandon themselves to laziness, dancing, and gaming, and can rarely be roused,
even to hunt, so long as their corn-fields will furnish
them food. During these months they are generally
seen lying down in idle contemplation, dancing with
their squaws, playing at foot-ball, or engaged in a game
resembling dice, of which they are immoderately fond.
War and hunting are their only serious occupations,
and all the drudgery of life devolves upon the squaws.
Smith gave high offense to the warriors by taking a hoe
into his hands, and working with the squaws for half
an hour, at a time when they were engaged in planting
corn. They reprimanded him with some severity for
his industry, observing, that it was degrading to a warrior to be engaged in labor like a squaw; and for the
future he must learn to demean himself more loftily,
always remembering that he was a member of a warlike tribe, and a noble family.
24
JAJIES S1I-TI.             5
  They are remarkably hospitable, always offering to a
stranger the best that they have. If a warrior, upon
enteriing a stranuge wigwam, is not immediately invited
to eat, he considers himself deeply affronted, although
he may have just risen from a meal at home. It is not
enough on these occasions that ordinary food, such as
venison or hominy, is offered. It is thought rude and
churlish, not to set before their guest their greatest delicacies, such as sugar, bear's oil, honey, and, if they
have it, rum. If there is no food of any kind in the
house, which is often the case, the fact is instantly
mentioned, and is at once accepted as a sufficient apology. Smith was so unfortunate as to incur some reproach upon this subject also.    While he and his
adopted brother, Tontileaugo, were eneamped in the
woods, hunting, there came a hunter of the Wyandott
tribe, who entered their camp, faint and hungry,
having had no success in hunting, and, consequently,
having fasted for several days.
  Tontileaugo was absent at the time, but Smith received the visitor with   great hospitality  (as he
thought), and gave him an abundant meal of hominy
and venison. Shortly after the Wyandott's departure,
his brovher, Tontileaugo, returned, and Smith informed
him of the visit of the stranger, and of his hospitable
reception. Tontileaugo listened with gravity, and replied: "And I suppose, of course, you brought up
some of the sugar and bear's oil, which was left below
in the canoe?      " No," replied Smith, "I never
thought of it; it was at too great a distance."  "Well,
brother," replied Tontileaugo, " you have behaved just
like a Dutchman! I can excuse it in you for this time,
as you are young, and have been brought up among
the white people; but you must learn to behave like a
warrior, and never be caught in such little actions!
Great actions, alone, can ever make a great man!"
  Their power of sustailing long-continued fatigue is
very extraordinary. Even their squaws will travel as
fast as an ordinary horse, and pack an incredible quantity of baggage upon their backs. In the spring of
1756, a great quantity of game had been killed, at a
25
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
considerable distance from the village; and all the inhabitants, including squaws and boys, turned out to
bring it home. Smith was loaded with a large piece of
buffalo, which, after packing two or three miles, he found
too heavy for him, and was compelled to throw it down.
One of the squaws laughed heartily, and coming up,
relieved him of a large part of it, adding it to her own
pack, which bef,re was equal to Smith's.    This, he
says, stimulated him to greater exertion than the severest pu:i-himent would have done.
  ThAir warriors, for a short distance, are not swifter
than the white,, but are capable of sustaininig the exercise for an incredible leiigth of time. An Indian warrior can run for twelve or fourte,en hours without refreshment; and after a hasty meal, and very brief repose, appears completely refreshed, and ready for a
sec,ond course. Simith found it more difficult to compete
with them in this respect, than in any other. For
although he ran wiTh great swiftness for a few miles,
he could not continue such violent exertion for a whole
day. Whil- he and his brother, Tontileauzo, were
encamp d at a distance from the others, they were
much distressed from having to pack their meat from
such a distance, and as three hor-es were constantly
grazing near them (for there was grass under the snow),
Tontileaugo proposed that they should run them down,
and catch them, it having been found impossible to
take them in any other way.
  Smith, having but little relish for the undertaking,
urged the impossibility of success. But Tontileaugo
replied that he had frequently run down bear, deer,
elk, and buffalo, and believed that, in the course of a
day and night, he could run down any four-footed animal, except the wolf. Smith observed, that, although
(leer were swifter than horses for a short distance, yet,
that a horse could run much longer than either the elk
or buffalo, and that he was confident that they would
tire themselves to no purpose. The other insisted upon
making the experiment, at any rate; and at daylight,
on a cold day in February, and on a hard snow several
inches deep, the race began. The two hunters stripped
26
JAMES MITH. I
themselves to their moccasins, and started at full speed.
The horses were in very high order, and very wild, but
contented themselves with running in a circle of six or
seven miles circumference, and would not entirely abandon their usual grazing ground.
  At ten o'clock, Smith had dropped considerably
astern, and before eleven, Tontileaugo and the horses
were out of sight; the Indian keeping close at their
heels, and allowing them  no time for rest. Smith,
naked as he was, and glowing with exercise, threw
himself upon the hard snow; and having cooled himself
in this manner, he remained stationary until three
o'clock in the evening, when the horses again came in
view, their flanks smoking like a seething kettle, and
Tontileantgo close behind them, running with undiminished speed. Smith being now perfectly fresh, struck
in ahead of Tontileiugo, and compelled the horses to
quicken their speed, while his Indian brother, from behind, encouraged him to do his utmost, after shouting
"Chako! chokoa-nough! " (pull away! pull away, my
boy!)
  Had Tontileaugo thought of resting, and committed
the (hase to Smith alone, for some hours, and then in
hi3 turn relieved him, they might have succeeded; but
neglecting this plan, they both continued the chase
until dork, when, perceiving that the horses ran still
with great vigor, they despaired of success, and returned to the camp, having tasted nothing since morning, and bne of them at least having run nearly one
hundred miles. Tontileaugo was somewhat crest-fallen
at the result of the race, and grumbled not a little at
their long wind; but Smith assured him that they had
attempted an impossibility, and he became reconciled
to their defeat.
  Their discipline with regard to their children is not
remarkably strict. Whipping is rare with them, and
is considered the most disgraceful of all punishments.
Ducking in cold water is the ordinary punishment of
misbehavior; and as might be expected, their children
are more obedient in winter than in summer. Smith,
during his first winter's residence among them, was an
27
2WESTERN AD VENTURE.
eye-witness to a circumstance, which we shall relate as
a lively example of Indian manners.    His brother,
Tontileaugo, was married to a Wyandott squaw, who
had had several children by a former husband. One
of these children offlnded his step-father in some way,
who, in requital, gave him the "strappado," with a
whip made of buffalo hide.
  The discipline was quite moderate, but the lad
shouted very loudly, and soon brought out his Wyandott mother. She instantly took her child's part with
great animation. It was in vain that the husband explained the offense, and urged the moderation with
which he had inflicted the punishment. All would not
do. " The child," she said, " was no slave, to be beaten
and scourged with a whip. His father had been a
warrior, and a Wyandott, and his child was entitled to
honorable usage. If he had offended his step-father,
there was cold water enough to be had; let him be
ducked until he would be brought to reason, and she
would not utter a word of complaint; but a' buffalo
tug' was no weapon with which the son of a warrior
ought to be struck: his father's spirit was frowning inl
the skies at the degradation of his child."
  Tontileaugo listened with great calmness to this indignant remonstrance; and, having lit his pipe, strolled
off* in order to give his squaw an opportunity of becoming cool. The offense, however, had been of too serious
a nature, and his squaw, shortly after his departure,
caught a horse, and, taking her children wits her, rode
off to the Wyandott village, about forty miles distant.
In the afternoon, Tontileaugo returned to his wigwam,
and found no one there but Smith, an old man, and a
boy. He appeared much troubled at his squaw's refractory conduct, uttered some deep interjections, but
finally did as most husbands are compelled to do-followed her to make his peace.
  They are remarkably superstitious, and hold their
" conjurers" in great veneration. These dignitaries are
generally old and decrepid. On the borders of Lake
Erie, one evening, a squaw came running into camp,
where Smith, Tontileaugo, and a few others were repos28
JAMES' SMITI.
ing, after a long day's journey, and alarmed them with
the information, that two strange Indians, armed with
rifles, were standing upon the opposite shore of a small
creek, and appeared to be reconnoitering the camp. It
was supposed they were Johnston Mohawks, and that
they would shortly be attacked. Instantly the women
and children were sent into the woods, and the warriors
retired from the light of the fires, taking their stations
silently in the dark, and awaiting the enemy's approach.
  Manetohcoa, their old conjurer, alone remained by
the fire, regardless of the danger, and busily employed
in his necromantic art. To assist him in his labors, he
had dyed feathers, the shoulder-blade of a wild cat, and
a large quantity of leaf tobacco. Thus accoutered, he
conjured away, with great industry, in the light of the
fire, and exposed to the most imminent danger in case
of an attack, as he was very lame, totally deaf, and
miserably rheumatic. After a few minutes' anxious
expectation, old Manetohcoa called aloud upon his
friends to return to the fire, assuring them that there
was no danger. They instantly obeyed with the utmost
confidence, and their squaws and children were recalled,
as if no fhrther danger was to be apprehended. Upon
coming up, they found old Manetohcoa enveloped in
tobacco smoke, and holding the bone of the wild cat in
his hand, upon which his eyes were fixed with great
earnestness.
  He told them, after having burnt his feathers, fumigated himself with the tobacco, heated his blade bone,
and pronounced his charm, that he expected to see a
multitude of Mohawks arise upon the surface of the
bone; but, to his surprise, he saw only the figures of
two wolves! He assured them that the woman had
mistaken the wolves for Mohawks, and that no enemy
was near them. The Indians instantly composed thenmselves to rest, relying confidently upon the truth of' the
old man's assertions. In the morning, to Smith's astonishment, the tracks of two wolves were seen at the
spot where the squaw's account had placed the Mohawks.   The Indians expressed no surprise at this
extraordinary confirmation of the old man's skill in
29
3WESTERN AD VENTURE.
divination; but Smith's infidelity was powerfully
shaken! Admitting the Iruth of the facts (and from
Colonel Smith's high reputation for piety and integrity,
we presume they can not be questioned), it must be
acknowledged either an extraordinary instance of sagacity, or else we must class it among those numerous
fortunate circumstances which occasionally have staggered the tfith of much more learned men than Colonel
Smith. Johnston's superstition is well known; and
Smith's doubts may at least be pardoned.
   Their military principles are few and simple, but remarkable for sagacity, and singularly adapted to the
character of the warfare in which they are generally
engaged. Cauti6on, perhaps, rather than boldness, is
the leading feature of their system. To destroy their
enemy at the least possible risk to themselves, is their
great object. They are by no means, as has been sometimes supposed, destitute of discilline. Their maneuvers are few, but in performing them they are peculiarly alert, ready, and intelligent. In forming a line,
in protecting their flanks by bodies arranged en potence,
or in forming a large hollow square for the purpose of
making head against a superior force, they are inferior
to no troops in the world. Each movement is indicated
by a loud whoop, of peculiar intonation, from their
leader, and is irregularly but rapidly obeyed. The result is order, although during the progress of the movement the utmost apparent confusion prevails.
   Nothing astonished them more than the pertinacity
with which Braddock adhered to European tactics, in
the celebrated battle on the banks of the Monongahela.
They often assured Smith that the Long Knives were
fools; that they could neither fight nor run away, but
drew themselves up in close order, and stood still, as if
to give their enemies the best possible opportunity of
shooting them down at their leisure. Grant's masquerade before the walls of Fort Du Quesne also gave
them much perplexity. A venerable Caughnewaughga
chief, who had, in his youth, been a renowned warrior
and counselor, and who excelled all his contemporaries
30
JAMES SMITTH.
in sagacity and benevolence, frequently told Smith that
Grant's conduct was to him totally inexplicable.
  This general formed the advance of General Forbes
in 1777. He marched with great secrecy and celerity
through the woods, and appeared upon the hill above
Du Quesne in the night. There he encamped, and,
by way of bravado, caused the drums to beat and the
bagpipes to play, as if to inform the enemy of his arrival. At daylight he was surrounded by Indians, who,
creeping up under cover of bushes, gullies, etc., nearly
annihilated his army without any sensible loss to themselves. The old chief observed, " that as the great art
of war consisted in ambushing and surprising your
enemy, and preventing yourself from being surprised,
that Grant had acted like a skillful warrior in coming
secretly upon them; but that his subsequent conduct in
giving the alarm to his enemy, instead of falling upon
him with the bayonet, was very extraordinary; that he
could only account for it by supposing that Grant, like
too many other warriors, was fond of rum, and had become drunk about daylight."
  They have the most sovereign contempt for all book
learning! Smith was occasionally in the habit of reading a few elementary English books which he had procured from traders, and lost credit among them by his
fondness for study.
  Nothing, with them, can atone for a practical ignorance of the woods. AWe have seen, that, for losing
himself, Smith was degraded from the rank of a warrior and reduced to that of a boy. Two years afterward
he regained his rank, and was presented with a rifle, as
a reward for an exhibition of hardihood and presence
of mind. In company with the old chief, to whom we
have just referred, and several other Indians, he was
engaged in hunting.    A  deep snow was upon the
ground, and the weather was tempestuous. On their
way home, a number of raccoon tracks were seen in the
snow, and Smith was directed to follow them and observe where they treed. He did so, but they led him
off to a much greater distance than was supposed, and
         5
31
WESTER, N ADVENTURE.
the hunters were several miles ahead of him when he
attempted to rejoin them.
  At first their tracks were very plain in the snow, and
although night approached, and the camp was distant,
Smith felt no anxiety. But about dusk his situation
became critical. The weather became suddenly much
colder, the wind blew a perfect hurricane, and whirlwinds of snow blinded his eyes and filled up the tracks
of his companions. He had with him neither a gun,
flint, nor steel; no shelter but a blanket, and no weapon
but a tomahawk. He plodded on for several hours,
ignorant of his route, stumbling over logs, and chilled
with cold, until the snow became so de(p as seriously
to impede his progress, and the flakes fell so thick as
to render it impossille to see where he was goiing. He
shouted aloud for help, but no answer was returned,
and, as the storm every instant became more outrageous, he b gan to think that his hour had come.
  Providentially, in stumbling on through the snow,
he came to a large sycamore with a coinsiderable opening on the windward side. He lhastily crept in, and
found the hollow sufficiently large to accommodate him
for the night, if' the weather side coull be closed so as
to exclude the snow    and win(d, which was beating
against it with great violence. He instaintly weiit to
work with his tomahawk and cut a numbner of sticks,
which lie placeeI upriglt against the hole, and piled
brush against it in great quantities, leaviing a space
open for himself to creep in.   He then broke up a
decayed log, and, cutting it into small pieces, pushed
them, one by one, into the hollow of the tree, and
lastly crept in himself. With tlihee pieces he stopped
up the remaining holes of his den, until not a chink was
left to admit the light.  The snow, drifting in large
quantities, was soon banked up against his defensez,
and completely sheltered   im iiin fom the storm, which
still continued to rage with undiminished fury. He
then danced violeiitly in the center of his den for two
hours, until he was sufficiently warmed, and, wrapl)ing
himself in his blanket, he slept soundly until morning.
  He awoke in utter darkness, and, groping about, he
32
JA fMES SMIITI1.
found his door and attempted to push it away, but the
snow had drifted against it in such quantities that it
resisted his utmost efforts. His hair now began to
bristle, and he feared that he had, with great ingenuity,
contrived to bury himself alive. He laid down again
for several hours, meditating upon what he should do,
and whether lie should not attempt to cut through the
tree with his tomahawk; but at length he made one
more desperate effiort to push away the door, and succeeded in moving it several inches, when a great bank
of snow fell in upon him from above, convincing him
at once of the immense quantity which had fallen. He
at length burrowed his way into the upper air, and
found it broad daylight, and the weather calm and
mild. The snow lay nearly four feet deep; but he was
now enabled to see his way clearly, and, by examiining
the barks of the trees, was enabled to return to camp.
   He was received with loud shouts of joy and congratulation, but not a single question was asked until
lie had dispatched a hearty meal of venison, hominy,
and sugar.
   The old chief, Tecaughnetanego, whom we have already mentioned, then presnted him with his own pipe,
and they all remained silent until Smith had smoked.
When they saw' him completely refreshed, the venerable
chief addressed him in a mild and affectionate manner
(for Smith at that time was a mere boy with them),
and desired to hear a particular account of the manrner
in which he had passed the night. Not a word was
spoken until Smith concluded his story, and then he
was greeted on all sides with shouts of approbation.
  Tecaughnetanego arose and addressed him in a short
speech, in which his courage, hardihood, and presence
of mind, were highly commended. He was exhorted to
go on as lie had begun, and assured that one day lie
would make a very great man; that all his brothers
rejoiced in his safety, as much as they had lamented
his supposed death; that they were preparing snowshoes to go in search of him when he appeared; but,
as he had been brought up effeminately among the
whites, they never expected to see him alive. In con33
1
VESTEIRN AD VENTURE.
elusion, he was promoted from the rank of a boy to
that of a warrior, and assured that, when they sold
skins in the spring, at Detroit, they would purchase
fbr him a new rifle. And they faithfully observed
their promise.
  They are extravagantly fond of rum; but drinking
does not with them, as with the whites, forni a part of
the regular business of life. They occasionally indulge
in a wild and frantic revel, which sometimes lasts several days, and then return to their ordinary habits.
They can not husband their liquor, for the sake of prolonging the pleasure of toping.   It is used with the
most reckless profusion while it lasts, and all drink to
beastly intoxication. Their squaws are as fond of liquor
as the warriors, and share in all their excesses.
  After the party to which Smith belonged had sold
their beaver skins, and provided themselves with ammunition and blankets, all their surplus cash was expended in ruin, which was bought by the keg. They
then held a council, in which a few strong-bodied hunters were selected to remain sober, and protect the rest
during the revel, for which they were preparing. Smith
was courteously invited to get drunk, but upon his refusal, he was told that he must then join the sober
party, and assist in keeping order. This, as lie quickly
found, was an extremely dangerous office; but before
engaging in the serious business of drinking, the warriors carefullly removed their tomahawks and knives,
and took every precaution against bloodshed. A shocking scene then commenced.     Rum was swallowed in
immense quantities, and their wild passions were stimulated to frenzy!  Smith and the sober party, were
expo~ed to the most imminent peril, and were compelled to risk their lives every moment. Much injury
was done, but no lives were lost.
  In the Ottawa camp, where the same infernal orgies
were celebrated, the result was more tragical. Several
warriors were killed on the spot, and a number more
wounded. So long as they had money, the revel was
kept up day and night, but when their funds were exhausted, they gathered up their dead and wounded,
34
JAMES SMITH.
and, with dejected countenances, returned to the wilderness. All had some cause of lamentation. The
blanket of one had been burnt, and he had no money
to buy another; the fine clothes of another had been
torn firom his back; some had been maimed; and all
had improvidently wasted their money.
  The religion of the Indians, although defaced by
superstition, and intermingled with many rites and notions which, to us, appear absurd, contains, nev(rtheless, a distinct acknowledgment of the existence of a
Supreme Being, and a future state. The various tribes
are represented by Dr. Robertson as polytheists; and
Mr. Hunme considters polytheism as in-eparably attendant upon the savage state. It appears, however, that
the Western Indians approached more nearly to simple
deism than most savage nations with whom we have
been heretofore acquainted. One Great Spirit is universally worshiped throughout the West; although
different tribes give him different names. In the immense prairies of the West, he is generally termed the
Wahcondah, or master of life. With the Indians of
the lakes. he was generally termed Manito, which, we
believe, means simply " The Spirit." In the language
of Smith's tribe he was known by the title of " Owaneeyo," or the possessor of all things.
  Human sacrifices are very common among the tribes
living west of the Mississippi; but I have seen no evidence of such a custom among tho-e of the North-west.
  Tecaughnetanego, the veteran chief whom we have
already mentioniied, was esteemed the wihest and most
venerable of his own nation; and his religious opinions, perhaps, may be regarded as a very favorable
sample of Indian theology. We shall take the liberty
of detailing several conversations of this old chief, particularly upon religious subjects, which to us were the
most intere-ting passages of Smith's diary; growing, as
they did, out of a situation which require(d the exercise
of some philosophy and reliance upon Providence. We
have alr,-ady adverted to the precarious nature of the
Indian supplies of food, dependent, as they are, upon
the woods for their meat, and liable to frequent failures
35
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
from the state of the weather, and other circumstances
over which they have no control.
  It so happened that Smith, together with Tontileaugo
and the old chief, Tecaughnetanego, were encamped at
a great distance from the rest of the tribe, and during
the early part of the winter they were very successfiul
in hunting, and were abundantly supplied with all
necessaries. Upon the breach between Tontileaugo and
his wife, however, Smith and the old chief were left in
the woods, with no other company than that of Nungany, a little son of the latter, not more than ten years
old. Tecaugh-ietanego, notwithstanding his age (which
exceeded sixty), was still a skilliil hunter, and capable
of great exertion when in good health; but, unthrtunately, was suhject to dreadful attacks of rheumatism,
during which, in addition to the most excruciatingt
pain, he was incapable of moving his limbs, or helping
himself in any way. Smith was but a young hunter,
and Nungany totally useless except as a cook; but while
Tecauglhnetanego retained the use of his limbs, notwithstanding the loss of Tontileaugo, they killed game very
abundantly.
  About the middle of January, however, the weather
became excessively cold, and the old chief was stretched
upon the floor of his wigwam, totally unable to move.
The whole care of the family now devolved uplon Smith,
and his exertions were not wanting. But from his
youth and inexperience, he was unable to provide as
plentifully as Tontileaugo had done, and they were reduced to very short allowance. The old chief, notwithstanding the excruciating pain which he daily suffered,
always strove to entertain Smith, at night, with agreeable conversation, and instructed him carefully and repeatedly in the art of hunting. At length the snow
became hard and crusty, and the noise of Smith's fobotsteps frightened the deer, so that, with the utmost caution he could use, he was unable to get within gunshot.
The family, in consequence, were upon the eve of starvation.
   One evening Smith entered the hut, faint and weary,
after a hunt of two days, during which he had eaten
36
JAMES SMITH.
nothing.   Tecaughnetanego had fasted for the same
length of time, and both had been upon short allowance for a week. Smith came in very moodily, and
laying aside his gun and powder-horn, sat down by the
fire in silence. Tecaughnetanego inquired mildly and
calmly, what success he had had. Smith answered that
they must starve, as the deer were so wild that he could
not get within gunshot, and it was too fir to go to any
Indian settlement for food. The old man remained silent
for a moment, and then, in the same mild tone, asked
him if he was hungry? Smith replied, that the keen
appetite seemed gone, but that he felt sick and dizzy,
and scarcely able to walk. "I have made Nungany
hunt up some food for you, brother," said the old man
kindly, and bade him produce it. This food( was nothing more than the bones of a fox and wild-cat, which
had been thrown into the woods a few days before, and
which the buzzards had already picked almost bare.
  Nungany had collected and boiled them, until the
sinews were stripped of the flesh, intending them for
himself and father, both of whom were nearly famished; but the old man had put them away for Smith,
in case he should again retturn without food. Smith
quickly threw himself upon this savory soup, and swallowed spoonInl after spoonful with the voracity of a
wolf. Tecaughnetanego waited patiently until he had
finished his meal, which continued until the last spoonful had been swallowed, and then handing him his own
pipe, invited him to smoke. Little Nungany, in the
meantime, removed the kettle, after looking in vain
for some remnant of the feast for his own supper. He
had watched every mouthful which Smith swallowed
with eager longing, but in perfect silence, and finding
that, for the third night, he must remain supperless,
he sat down quietly at his father's feet, and was soon
asleep.
  Tecaughnetanego, as soon as Smith had smoked,
asked him if he felt refreshed; and upon receiving an
animated assurance in the affirmative, he addressed
him mildly as follows: "I saw, my brother, when you
first came in, that you had been unfortunate in hunt37
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
ing, and were ready to despair. I should have spoken
at the time, what I am now about to say, but I have
always observed that hungry people are not in a temper
to listen to reason. You are now refreshed, and can
listen patiently to the words of your elder brother. I
was once young like you, but am now old. I have
seen sixty snows fall, and have often been in a worse
condition, from want of food, than we now are; yet I
have always been supplied, and that, too, at the very
time when I was ready to despair. Brother: you have
been brought up among the whites, and have not had
the same opportunities of seeing how wonderfully Owaneeyo provides food for his children in the woods! He
sometimes lets them be in great want, to teach them
that they are dependent upon him, and to remind them
of their own weakness; but he never permits them absolutely to perish. Rest assured that your brother is
telling you no lie; but be satisfied that he will do as I.
have told you. Go now; sleep soundly; rise early in
the morning and go out to hunt; be strong and diligent; do your best, and trust to Owaneeyo for the
rest."
  When we recollect that this admirable speech came
from a wild Indian, totally uninstructed, and untaught
to restrain his passions; that, at the very time, he was
suffering the most excruciating pain, both from disease
and hunger; that he had denied himself a morsel of
food, in order to bestow it upon Smith; and, lastly,
that from the state of the snow and Smith's inexperience, he had no human prospect of relief; it is no exaggeration to say, that a more striking example of
wisdom, mildness, and magnanimity, was never exhibited.
  Smith was powerfully struck by the old man's reasoning; and still more affected by the patience and
firmness with which he sustained himself, under the
complicated suffering with which he was visited. In
the morning, at daylight, he seized his gun, and commenced the duties of the day with great spirit., He
saw a great many deer, but the crashing of the crust
alarmed them as heretofore; and after hunting until
38
JAMES 831MITIF.
noon without success, he began to suspect that Tecaughnetanego must have been mistaken, and that they were
certainly destined to starve. His hunger seemed rather
whetted than allayed by his sumptuous repast upon
wild-cat bones, the evening before, and now became so
ravenous as to divest him of all reason, and he determined to run back to Pennsylvania. True, the intervening country was crowded with hostile Indians, but
the edge of the tomahawk was not keener than that of
hunger; and a sharp and quick death infinitely preferable to the slow and torturing ravages of starvation.
  Having hastily adopted this desperate resolution, he
quickened his pace, and moved off' steadily in the direction of Pennsylvania. He had not gone more than
seven or eight miles, before he heard the lowing of buffalo in fr6nt, and in a few minutes, came in view of a
noble heard, marching leisurely ahead of him. He ran
with great rapidity in such a direction as to head them,
and concealing himself in a thicket, a\vaited their approach. They passed leisurely within a few yards of
him, so that he had an opportunity of selecting a fat
heifer, which he killed at the first fire. He quickly
struck fire from his flint-and cutting a few slices from
the fleshiest part, he laid it upon the coals, but could
not wait until it was done. After gorging himself with
raw beef, which (with the exception of the wild-cat
bones of the preceding night) he thought the most delicious food he had ever tasted, he began to be tenderly
concerned for the old man and little boy, whom lie had
left in a famishing condition at the wigwam.
  His conscience reproached him for leaving them to
perish; and he instantly loaded himself heavily with
the fattest and fleshiest pieces, and having secured the
rest from the wolves, returned to their camp, with as
much expedition as he could exert.     It was late at
night when he entered the wigwam. Tecaughnetanego
received him with the same mild equanimity which
had heretofore distinguished him, and thanked him
very affectionately for the exertions which he had used,
while the eyes of the famished boy were fastened upon
the beef as if he would devour it raw. His father
39
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
ordered him to hang on the kettle and cook some beef
for them  all; but Smith declared that lie him,elf
would cook for the old man, while Nungany broiled
some meat upon the coals for hiniself.     The boy
looked eagerly at his father for his consent, and receiving a nod in reply, he sprung upon the meat as
a kite would pounce upon a pullet, and unable to wait
for the slow operation of the fire, began to eat it raw.
  Smith, in the meantime, had cut several very
thin slices and placed them in the kettle to boil; but
supposing Tecaughlnetanego as impatient as himself,
he was about to take it off the fire after a very few
minutes, when the old man, in a tone as Calim and
quiet as if he had not fasted for three whole days,
desired him to " let it be done enough." At the same
time he ordered Nungany, who was still eating like a
shar'k, to take no more at present, but to sit down,
and after a few minutes he might sup a little broth.
The old man then reminded Smith of their conversation the night before; and of the striking truth
with which his assurance of Owaneeyo's goodtness had
been accomplished.   At length lie desired Smith to
give him the beef, observing that it had been boiled
enough; and, as if he had reserved all his vigor for
that moment, he assaulted it with a keenness and perseverance which showed that the gifts of Owaneeyo
were not thrown away.
  In the morning, Tecaughnetanego requested Smnith
to return to the spot where he had killed the buffidlo,
and bring in the rest of it to camp. He accordingly
took down his rifle and entered the wood, inten(ling
to hunt on the road. At the distance of a few miles
froin camp, he saw a large elm, whichl had been much
scratched, and perceiving a hole in it al the distance
of forty feet from  the ground, he supposed that a
bear had selected it for his winter-quarters, and instantly determined to rouse him from his slumbers.
With his tomahawk, he cut down a sapling which
grew near the tree, in such a manner as to l.odge it
against the den. He then cut a long pole, and tied a
few bunches of rotten wood to the end of it. Taking
40
JA.M3iES SI=TIT.
it then in his hand, he climbed the sapling, until he
reached the mouth of the den, and setting fire to the
rotten wood, put it into the hollow as filr as he could
reach. He soon had the gratification of hearing poor
Bruin sneeze and cough, as if in great trouble; and
rapidly sliding down the sapling, he seized his gun at
the moment the bear showed himself. He instantly
shot him, and having loaded himself with the hindquarters, he marched back in high spirits to the wigwarn.   They were now well provided for a week;
and in a few days the snow thawed so much as to
enable him to kill (eer; so that, during the rest of
the winter, they fared snmptuously.
  Early in April, Tecaunghnetanego's rheumatism had
abated so much as to permit him to walk, upon which,
they all three built a bark canoe, and descended the
Ollentangy, until the water became so shallow as to
endanger their frail bark among the rocks. A council was then held, in which Tecaughnetanego proposed
to go ashore, and pray for rain to raise the creek or
river so as to enable them to continue their journey.
Smith readily consented, and they accordingly disembarked, drawing their canoe ashore after them. Here
the old Indian built a " sweating house," in order to
purify himself, before engaging in his religious duties.
  He stuck a nimber of semicircular hoops in the
ground, and laid a blanket over them.       He then
heated a number of large stones, and placed them
under the blanket, and finally crawled in himself,
with a kettle of water in his hand, directing Smith to
draw down the blanket after him, so as almost entirely
to exclude the external air.  He then poured the
water upon the hot stones, and began to sing aloud
with great energy, the steaii rising from the blanket
like a heavy mist. In this hot place he continued for
fifteen minutes, singing the whole time, and then
came out dripping with perspiration from head to
foot.  As soon as lie had taken breath, he began to
burn tobacco, throwing it into the fire by handfuls,
at the same time repeating the following words in a
tone of deep and solemn earnestness:
41
I
42           WESTERN ADVENTURE.
   "O Great Owaneeyo! I thank thee that I have
regained the use of my legs once more; that I am
now able to walk about and kill turkeys, without
feeling exquisite pain. Oh! ho! ho! ho! Grant that
my knees and ankles may be right well, that I may
be able not only to walk, but to run and to jump
logs, as I did last fall!  Oh! ho! ho! ho! Grant
that, upon this voyage vwe may frequently kill bears
a~ they may be crossing the Sandusky and Scioto!
Oh! ho! ho! ho!       Grant that we may also kill a
few turkeys to stew with our bear's meat! Oh! ho!
ho! ho! Grant that rain may come to raise the 01lentangy a few   feet, that we may cross in safety
down to Scioto, without splitting our canoe upon the
rocks! And now, O Great Owaneeyo! thou knowest
how fond I am of tobacco, and though I do not know
when I shall get any more, yet you see that I have
freely given up all that I have for a burnt-offering;
therefore, I expect that thou wilt be merciful and
hear all my petitions; and I, thy servant, will thank
thee, and love thee for all thy gifts."
  Smith held the chief in great veneration, and has
observed, that he never in his life listened to a man
who reasoned more clearly and powerfully upon such
subjects as came before him;.and he heard the first
part of his prayer with great respect and due gravity;
but when the attention of Owaneevo was called to the
tobacco, which his votary bestowed upon him so liberally, his muscles gave way, and in spite of his eff,rts
to restrain himself, he burst into a low and half stifled
laugh. Ridicule is at all times formidable, but particularly so in a moment of enthusiasm and sincere
devotion. Tecaughnetanego was deeply and seriously
offended, and rebuked his young companion in the
following words:
   "Brother, I have somewhat to say to you! When
you were reading your books in our village, you know
I would not let the boys plague you, or laugh at
you, although we all thought it a foolish and idle
occupation in a warrior. I respected your feelings
then; but just now I saw you laughing at me!
                   JAMES SMITH.                   43
Brother, I do not believe that you look upon praying
as a silly custom, for you sometimes pray yourself.
Perhaps you think my mode of praying foolish, but if
so, would it not be more friendly to reason with me,
and instruct me, than to sit on that log and laugh at
an old man?"
  Smith apologized with great earnestness, declaring
that he respected and loved him sincerely, but that
when he saw him throw the last of his tobacco into
the fire, and recollected how lond he was of it, lie
could not help smiling a little, although for the future
he would never have reason to complain of him on
that account. The old man, without saying a word,
handed him his pipe as a token of friendship, although
it was filled only with willow bark; and the little
difference was soon forgotten.
  Smith then explained to him the outlines of the
Christian religion, and dwelt particularly upon the
doctrine of reconciliation through the atonement of
Christ.  Tecaughnetanego listened with patience and
gravity until his companion had en'ded his remarks,
and then calmly -observed, that "it might be so!" He
even acknowledged, "that it did not appear so absurd
as the doctrine of the Romish priests, which he had
heard at Detroit, but declared that lie was too old now
to change his religion; that he should, therefore, continue to worship God after the manner of his fathers;
and if it was not consistent with the honor of the Great
Spirit to accept of him in that way, then lie hoped that
lie would receive him upon such terms as were acceptable to him; that it was his earnest and sincere desire
to worship the Great Spirit, and obey his wishes, and
he hoped that Owaneeyo would overlook such faults as
arose from ignorance and weakness, not willful neglect."
To a speech of this kind, the sentiments of which find
an echo in almost every breast,'Smith could make no
reply. Here, therefore, the subject ended.
  A few days afterward, there came a fine rain, and
the Ollentangy was soon sufficiently deep to admit of
their passage in safety, and after reaching the Sandusky they killed four bears and a great many wild
t
WE,STiERN AD VENTTURE.
turkeys.  Tecaughnetanego gravely assured    Smith,
that this was a clear and direct answer to his prayer,
and inferred from it, that his religion could not be as
unacceptable to Owaneeyo as Smith supposed. Perhaps it would be difficult to disprove the first part of
the old Indian's observation; the last is more questionable.
  We have already gleaned all the most interesting
parts of Smith's narrative, for the long details of huntings, trappings, and migrations, without particular
object or incideAt, would scarcely be interesting to the
reader.  We have end.avored to select such circtumstances, as woul l give the general reader a lively idea
of the habits and opinions of the Western Indians,
without burdening our narrative with too much detail.
As most, if not all, the subsequent adventures, will
have a close connection with Indian life, it was thought
proper to commence with a narrative which should
throw some light upon that subject. It is only necessary, further, to observe, that in the summor of 1759,
and in the fourth year of his captivity, or rather, adoption, Smith, accompanied by Tecaughnetanego and
Nungany, sailed in a bark canoe down the St. Lawrence, as far as Montreal.
  Here he privately left his Indian companions, and
went on board a French transport, which he had heard
was about to sail, with a numb'Tr of English prisoners
on board, intended to be exchanged. After having
been detained some time in Montreal, in consequence
of the English fleet being below, he was at length exchanged and returned to his native country.     His
family and sweetheart received him with great joy;
but to his inexpressible mortification, the latter had
been married only a few days before his arrival. His
subsequent adventures, although novel and interesting,
do not properly come within the range of our present
subject. We refer the reader, who may desire to know
more, to Colonel Smith's own narrative, which has recently been reprinted.
44
DANIEL BOONE.
                 CHAPTER II.
T HE adventures which, in order of time, should come
   next, are those of the celebrated DANIEL BOONE;
for of Findley-said to be the first white man who ever
visited Kentucky-nothing is known but the simple
fact that he did visit it, first alone, and afterward in
company with Boone. It is much to be regretted that
the materials for a sketch of Boone are so scanty. He
has left us a brief account of his adventures, but they
are rather such as one would require for the composition
of an epitaph than of a biography. The leading incidents are mention(d in a general way; and there are
some gaudy and ambitious sketches of sccn(erly \which
swell the bulk of the piece without either pleasing the
imagination or gratifying the curiosity. It would seem
that the brief notes of the plain old woodsman had been
committed to some young sciolist in literature, who
thought that flashy description could atone lor barrenness of incident.
  A general summary of remarkable events neither excites nor gratifies curiosity like a minute detail of all the
circumstances connected with them. This trait, so essential to the interest of narratives, and of which perhaps the most splendid example in existence has been
given in Mr. Cooper's "Last of the Mohicans," is deplorably wanting in most of the materials to which we
have had access. A novelist may fill up the blank from
his own imagination; but a writer who professes to adhere to truth is fettered down to the record before him.
If, therefore, in the following details, we should be fiund
guilty of the unpardonable sin of dullness, we hope
that at least a portion of the blame will fall upon the
scantiness of the materials.
45
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
  Of Mr. Boone's early youth, nothing is known. He
has modestly forborne to say any thing of himself,
except so far as he is connected with the settlement of
Kentucky. He was born in Virginia; but, instigated
by that roving spirit which distinguished him throughout life, he emigrated, at an early period, to North
Carolina, and lived until his fortieth year upon the
banks of the Yadkin. In 1767, Findley returned from
his adventurous journey, and brought with him a report
of a large tract of fertile country, totally unoccupied,
and abounding in every variety of game, from the beaver
to the buffalo. To a man like Boone, fond of hunting,
and naturally attached to a roving and adventurous life,
such a scene presented irresistible charms. Accordingly,
in 1769, he left his family upon the Yadkin, and, in
company with five others, of whom Findley was one,
he moved in a western direction, being determined to
explore that country of which he had heard so favorable an account.
  On the seventh of June they reached Red River, and
from a neighboring eminence were enabled to survey
the vast plain of Kentucky. Here they built a cabin
in order to afford them a shelter from the rain which
had fallen in immense quantities on their march, and
remained, in a great measure, stationary until December, killing a great quantity of game immediately
around them. Immense herds of Buffalo ranged through
the forest in every direction, feeding upon the leaves of
the cane or the rich and spontaneous fields of clover.
  On the twenty-second of December, Boone and John
Stuart, one of his companions, left their encampment,
and, following one of the numerous paths which the
buffdlo had made through the cane, they plunged boldly
into the interior of the forest. They had as yet seen
no Indians, and the country had been reported as totally uninhabited. This was true in a strict sense, for
although the southern and north-western tribes were in
the habit of hunting here as upon neutral ground, yet
not a single wigwam had been erected, nor did the land
bear the slightest mark of ever having been cultivated.
The different tribes would fall in with each other, and
46
Boone and Findley's First View of Kentucky, June 7, 1769. [See page 46.]
DANIEL BOONE.
from the fierce conflicts which generally followed these
casual rencounters, the country had been known among
them by the name of " the dark and bloody ground!" The
two adventurers soon learned the additional danger to
which they were exposed. While roving carelessly from
canebrake to canebrake, and admiring the rank growth
of vegetation, and the variety of timl)er which marked the
fertility of the soil, they were suddenly alarmed by the
appearance of a party of Indians, who, springing from
their place of concealment, rushed upon them with a
rapidity which rendered escape impossible.
   They were almost instantly seized, disarmed, and
made prisoners. Their feeliings may be readily imagined. They were in the hands of an enemy who knew
no alternative between adoption and torture; and the
numbers and fleetness of their captors rendered escape
by open means impossible, while their jealous vigilance
seemed equally fatal to any secret attempt. Boone,
however, was possessed of' a temper admnirably adapted
to the circumstances in which he was placed. Of a
cold and saturnine, rather than an ardent disposition,
he was never either so much elevated by good fortune
or depressed by bad as to lose for an instant the full
possession of all his faculties. He saw that immediate
escape was impossible; but he encouraged his companion, and constrained himself to accompany the Indians
in all their excursions with so calm and contented an
air that their vigilance insensibly began to relax.
  On the seventh evening of their captivity, they encamped in a thick canebrake, and, having built a large
fire, lay down to rest. The party whose duty it was to
watch were weary and negligent, and about midnight,
Boone, who had not closed an eye, ascertained from the
deep breathing all around him that the whole party, including Stuart, was in a deep sleep. Gently and gradually extricating himself from the Indians who lay
around him, he walked cautiously to the spot where
Stuart lay, and, having succeeded in awakening him
without alarming the rest, he briefly informed him of
his determination, and exhorted him to arise, make no
noise, and follow him. Stuart, although ignorant of
6
47
"WTrESTERN AD VENT URE.
the design, and suddenly roused from sleep, fortunately
obeyed with equal silence and celerity, and within a few
minutes they were beyond hearing.
  Rapidly traversing the forest, by the light of the stars
and the barks of the trees, they ascertained the direction in which the camp lay; but upon reaching it on.
the next day, to their great grief they found it plundered and deserted, with nothing remaining to show the
fhte of their companions: and even to the day of his
death Boone knew not whether they had been killed or
taken, or had voluntarily abandoned their cabin and returned. Here, in a few days, they were accidentally
joined by Boone's brother and another man, who bad
followed them from Carolina and fortunately stumbled
upon their camp. This accidental meeting in the
bo)so  of a vast wilderness gave great relief to the two
brothers, although their joy was soon overcast.
  Boone and Stuart, in a second excursion, were again
pursued by savages, and Stuart was shot and scalped,
while Boone fortunately escaped. As usual, he has not
mentioned particulars, but barely stated the event.
Within a few days they sustained another calamity, if
possible, still more distressing-their only remaining
companion was benighted in a hunting excursion, and
while encamped in the woods alone, was attacked and
devoured by the wolves.
  The two brothers were thus left in the wilderness
alone, separated by several hundred miles from home,
surrounded by hostile Indians, and destitute of every
thing but their rifles. After having had such melancholy experience of the dangers to which they were
exposed, we would naturally suppose that their fortitiude would have given way, and that they would instantly have returned to the settlements. But the most
remarkable feature in Boone's character was a calhn and
cold equanimity, which rarely rose to enthusiasm and
never sunk to despondence.
   His courage undervalued the danger to which he was
exposed; and his presence of mind, which never forsook him, enabled him, on all occasions, to take the best
means of avoiding it. The wilderness, with all its dan48
DANIEL BOONE.
gers and privations, had a charm    for him which is
scarcely conceivable by one brought up in a city; and
he determined to remain alone, while his brother returned to Carolina for an additional supply of ammunition, as their original supply was nearly exhausted.
His situation we should now suppose in the highest degree gloomy and dispiriting.'lhe dangers which attended his brother on his return were nearly equal to
his own; and each had left a wife and children, which
Boone acknowledged cost him many an anxious thought.
  But the wild and solitary grandeur of the country
around him, where not a tree had been cut nor a house
erected, was to him an inexhaustible source of admiration and delight; and he says himself, that some of
the most rapturous moments of his life were spent in
those lonely rambles. The utmost caution was necessary to avoid the savages, anld scarcely less to escape
the ravenous hunger of' the wolves that prowled nightly
around him in immense numbers. He was compelled
frequently to shift his lodging, and by undoubted signs
saw that the Indians had repeatedly visited his hut
during his absence. He sometimes lay in canebrakes,
without fire, and heard the yells of the Indians around
him. Fortunately, however, he never encountered them.
  "On the twenty-seventh of July, 1770, his brother returned with a supply of ammunition; and, with a hardihood which appears almost incredible, they ranged
through the country in every direction, and without in-,
jury, untikMarch, 1771. They then returned to North
Carolina, where Daniel rejoined his family, after an~
absence of three years, during nearly the whole of which
time he had never tasted bread or salt, nor seen the face
of a single white man, with the exception of his brother
and the two friends who had been killed. He here
determined to sell his farm and remove with his family to the wilderness of Kentucky-an astonishing instance of hardihood, and we should even say indifference to his family, if it were not that his character has
uniformly been represented as mild and humane, as it
was hold and fearless.
  Accordingly, on the twenty-fifth of September, 1771,
49
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
having disposed of all the property which he could not
take with him, he took leave of his friends and commenced
his journey to the west. A   number of milch cows,
and horses laden with a few necessary household utensils, formed the whole of his baggage. His wife and
children were mounted on horseback and accompanied
him, every one regarding them as devoted to destruction.
In Powell's Valley they were joined by five more families and forty men well armed. Encouraged by this
accession of strength, they advanced with additional
confidence, but had soon a severe warning of the further dangers which awaited them. When near Cumberland Mountain, their rear was suddenly attacked
with great futry by a scouting party of Indians and
thrown into considerable confusion.
  The party, however, soon rallied, and being accustomed to Indian wartkre, returned the fire with such
spirit and effect that the Indians were repulsed with
slaughter. Their own loss, however, had been severe.
Six men were killed upon the spot and one wounded.
Among the killed was Boone's eldest son, to the unspeakable affliction of his f4mily. The disorder and
grief occasioned by this rough reception seems to have
afflicted the emigrants deeply, as they instantly retraced
their steps to the settlements on Clinch River, forty
miles from the scene of action. Here they remained
until June, 1774, probably at the request of the women,
who must have been greatly alarmed at the prospect
of plunging more deeply into a country upon the skirts
of which they had witnessed so keen and bloody a conflict.
  At this time, Boone, at the request of Governor Dunmore, of Virginia, conducted a number of surveyors to
the falls of Ohio, a distance of eight hundred miles.
Of the incidents of this journey we have no record
whatever. After his return he was engaged under Dunmore, until 1775, in several affairs with the Indians;
anti, at the solicitation of some gentlemen of North
Carolina, he attended at a treaty with the Cherokees
for the purpose, of purchasing the lands south of Kentucky River. With his usual brevity, Boone has omitted
50
DANIEL BOONE.
to inform us of the particulars of this conference, or
of the peculiar character of the business upon which he
was sent. By the aid of Mr. Marshall's valuable history, however, we are enabled to supply this silence,
at least with regard to the latter circumstance.
  It seems that the Cherokees, living within the chartered limits of the State of North Carolina, claimed all
the land south of the Kentucky as far as Tennessee
River. That Colonel Richard Henderson and some
other gentlemen, animated by the glowing description
of the fertility of the soil which Boone and his brother
had given upon their return, determined to purchase
the whole of this immense tract from the Cherokees,
and employed Boone as their agent. The Cherokees
gladly parted with an empty title for a solid, though
moderate, recompense; and Henderson and his friends
instantly prepared to take possession, relying upon the
validity of their deed from the Indians. Unfortunately,
however, for the success of these speculators, Kentucky
lay within the limits of Virginia, according to the old
charter of King James, and that State accordingly
claimed for herself solely the privilege of purchasing
the Indian title to lands lying within her own limits.
  She lost no time, therefore, in pronouncing the treaty
of Henderson null and void, as it rcgarded his own title;
although, by rather an exceptional process of reasoning, they determined that it was obligatory upon the
Indians, so fhr as regarded the extinction of their title.
Whether or not the reasoning was good, I can not pretend to say; but, supported as it was by a powerful
State, it was made good, and Henderson's golden dreams
completely vanished. He and his associates, however,
received a liberal grant of land lying on Green River
as a compensation for the expense and danger which
they had incurred in prosecuting their settlement.
  It was under the auspices of Henderson that Boone's
next visit to Kentucky was made. Leaving his family
on Clinch River, he set out, at the head of a few men, to
mark out a road for the pack horses or wagons of
Henderson's party. This laborious and dangerous duty
he executed with his usual patient fortitude, until he
51
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5WESTERN AD VIENTURE.
came within fifteen miles of the spot where Boonesborough afterward was built.   Here, on the twentysecond of March, his small party was attacked by
the Indians and suffered a loss of four men killed and
wounded. The Indians, although repulsed with loss
in this affair, renewed the attack with equal fury on
the next day, and killed and woulded five more of his
party. On the first of April, the survivors began to build
a small fort on the Kentucky River, afterward called
Boonesborough; and on the fourth they were again
attacked by the Indians and lost another man. Notwithstanding the harassing attacks to which they were
constantly exposed (for the Indians seemed enraged to
madness at the prospect of their building houses on their
hunting-ground), the work was prosecuted with indefatigable diligence, and on the fourteenth was completed.
  Boone instantly returned to Clinch River for his f"Imily, determined to bring them with him at every risk.
This was done as soon as the journey could be performed, and Mrs. Boone and her daughters were the
first whife women who stood upon the banks of the
Kentucky River, as Boone himself had been the first
white man who ever built a cabin upon the borders of
the State. The first house, however, which ever stood
in the interior of Kentucky, was erected at Harrodsburgh, in the year 1774, by James Harrod, who conducted to this place a party of hunters from the banks
of the Monongahela. This place was, therefore, a few
months older than Boonesborough. Both soon became
distinguished, as the only places in which hunters and
surveyors could find security from the fury of the Indians.
  Within a few weeks after the arrival of Mrs. Boone
and her daughters, the infant colony was reinforced by
three more families, at the head of which were Mrs.
McGary, Mrs. Hogan, and Mrs. Denton. Boonesborough, however, was the central object of Indian hostilities, and scarcely had his family become domesticated in
their new possession, when they were suddenly attacked
by a party of Indians, and lost one of their garrison.
This was on the twenty-fourth of December, 1775.
52
  1
r
Capture of Boone and Callaway's Daughters. [See page 53.]
DANIEL BOONE.
  In the following July, however, a much more alarming incident occurred. One of his daughters, in company with a Miss Calloway, were amusing themselves
in the immediate neighborhood of the fort, when a
p.arty of Indians suddenly rushed out of a canebrake,
and, intercepting their return, took them  prisoners.
The screams of the terrified girls quickly alarmed the
family.  The small garrison was dispersed in their
usual occupations; but Boone hastily collected a small
party of eight men, and pursued the enemy. So much
time, however, had been lost, that the Indians had got
several miles the start of them. The pursuit was urged
through the night with great keenness, by woodsmen
capable of fiblowing a trail at all times, and on the
following day they came up with them.
  The attack was so sudden and furious, that the Indians were driven from their ground before they had
leisure to tomahawk their prisoners, and the girls were
recovered without having sustained any other injury
than excessive fright and fatigue. Nothing but a barren outline of this interesting occurrence has been
given. We know nothing of the conduct of the Indians
to their captives, or of the situation of the young ladies
during the short engagement, and can not venture to
fill up the outline from imagination. The Indians lost
two men, while Boone's party was uninjured.
  From this time until the fifteenth of' April, 1777, the
garrison was incessantly harassed by flying parties of
Indians. While plowing their corn, they were waylaid and shot; while hunting, they were chased and
fired upon; and sometimes a solitary Indian would
creep up near the fort, in the night, and fire upon the
first of the garrison who appeared in the morning.
They were in a constant state of anxiety and alarm,
and the most ordinary duties could only be performed
at the risk of their lives.
  On the fifteenth of April, the enemy appeared in large
numbers, hoping to crush the infant settlement at a
single blow. Boonesborough, Logan's Fort, and Harrodsburgh, were attacked at one and the same time.
But, destitute as they were of artillery, scaling ladders,
53
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
and all the proper means of reducing fortified places,
they could only distress the men, alarm the women,
and destroy the corn and cattle. Boonesborough sustained some loss, as did the other stations, but the enemy being more exposed, sufl~red so severely as to
retire with precipitation.
  No rest, however, was given to the unhappy garrison. On the fourth of July following, they were again
attacked by two hundred| warriors, and again repulsed
the eiiemv with loss. The Indians retreated; but a few
days afterward fell upon Logan's Station with great
fury, having sent dctachments to alarm the other stations, so as to prevent the appearance of reinfbrcements
to Logan's. In this last attenmpt, they displayed great
obstinacy, and as the garrison coisisted only of fifteen
men, they were reduced to extremity. Not a moment
could be allowed fbr sleep. Burning arrows were shot
upon the roofs of the houses, and the In(lians often
pre,sedl boldly up to the g:ttes, and attempted to hew
them down with their tomahawks. Fortunately, at this
critical time, Colonel Bowman arrived from Virginia
with one hundred men, well armed, and the savages
precipitately withdrew, leavin- the garrison almost
exhausted with fatigue, and reduced to twelve meii.
  A brief period of rep:)se now followed, in which the
settlers endeavored to repair the damages done to their
farms. But a period of heavy trial to Boone and his
family was approaching. In January, 1778, accompanied by thirty men, Boone went to the Blue Licks to
make salt for the diff.irent stations; and. on the seventh
of February following, while out hunting, lie fell in with
one hundre:l and two Indian warriors, on their march
to attack Boonesborough. He instantly fled, but being
upwards of fifty years old, was unable to contend with.
the fleet young men who pursued him, and was a second
time taken prisoner. As usual, he was treated with
kindness until his final fate was determined, and was led
back to the Licks, where his men were still encamped.
Here his whole party, to the number of twenty-seven,
surrendered themselves, upon promise of life and good
54
DANIEL BOONE.
treatment, both of which conditions were faithfully
observed.
  Had the Indians prosecuted their enterprise, they
might perhaps, by showing their prisoners, and threatening to put them to the torture, have operated so far
upon the sympathies of the garrisons, as to have obtained considerable results. But nothing of the kind
was attempted. They had already been unexpectedly
successful; and it is their custom, after good or bad
fortune, immediately to return home and enjoy their
triumph, or lament their ill success. Boone and his
party were conducted to the old town of Chillicothe,
where they remained until the following March. No
journal was written during this period, by either
Boone or his party. We are only informed that his
mild and patient equanimity wrought powerfully upon
the Indians; that he was adopted into a family, and
uniformly treated with the utmost affection. One fact
is given us, which shows his acute observation, and
knowledge of mankind.      At the various shooting
matches to which he was invited, he took care not to
beat them too often. He knew that no feeling is more
painful than that of inferiority, and that the most effectual way of keeping them in a good humor with him,
was to keep them in a good humor with themselves. He,
therefore, only shot well enough to make it an honor to
beat him, and found himself a universal favorite.
  It is much to be regretted, that some of our wits and
egotists, of both sexes, could not borrow a little of the
sagacity of Boone, and recollect, that when they engross the attention of the company, and endeavor most
to shine, that instead of being agreeable, in nine cases
out of ten they are only bores.
  On the tenth of March, 1778, Boone was conducted
to Detroit, when Governor Hamilton himself, offered
~100 for his ransom; but so strong was the affection
of the Indians for their prisoner, that it was positively
refused.  Several English gentlemen, touched with
sympathy for his misfortunes, made pressing offers of
money and other articles, but Boone steadily refused
to receive benefits which he could never return. The
        7
55
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
offer was honorable to them, and the refusal was dictated by rather too refined a spirit of independence.
Boone's anxiety, on account of his wife and children,
was incessant, and the more intolerable, as he dared
not excite the suspicion of the Indians by any indication of a wish to rejoin them.
  Upon his return iifrom Detroit, he observed that one
hundred and fifty warriors of various tribes had assembled, painted   and eqtlippe(l, for an expedition
against Boonesborough. His anxiety at this sight became ungovernable, and he determined, at every risk,
to effect his escape. During the whole of this agitating
period, however, he permitted no symptoms of anxiety
to escape him. Hie hunted and shot with them, as
usual, until the morning of the sixteenth of June, when,
taking an early start, he left Ciiillicothe, and directed
his route to Boonesborough.    The distance exceeded
one hundred and sixty miles, but he performed it in
four days, during which he ate only one meal. He appeared before the garrison like one risen from the d(ead.
  His wife, supposing him killed, had tran,ported herself, children, and property to her father's house, in
North Carolina; his men, suspecting no danger, were
dispersed in their ordinary avocations, and the wor)'ks
had been permitted to go to waste.    Not a moment
was to be lost. The garrison worked day and night
upon the fortifications. New gates, new flanks, and
double bastions were soon completed. The cattle and
horses were brought into the fort, ammunition prepared,
and every thing made ready for the approach of the
enemy within ten (lays after his arrival. At this time
one of his companions in captivity arrived from Chillicothe, and announced that his escape had determined
the Indians to delay the invasion for three wecks.
  During this interval it was ascertained that numerous spies were traversing the woods and hovering
around the station, doubtless for the purpose of observing and reporting the condition of the garrison. Their
report could not have been favorable. The alarm had
spread very generally, and all were upon the alert.
The attack was delayed so long that Boone began to
56
IDATNIEL BOONE.
suspect that they had been discouraged by the report
of the spies; and he determined to invade them. Selecting niiiiieteen men from his garrison, he put himself
at their head, and marched with equal silence and celerity against the town of Paint Creek, on the Scioto.
He arrived, without discovery, within fobur miles of the
town, and there encountered a party of thirty warriors
on their march to unite with the grand army in the
expedition against Boonesborough.
  Instantly attacking them with great spirit, he compelled them to give way with some loss, and without
any injury to himself. He then halted and sent two
spies in advance to ascertain the condition of the village. In a few hours they returned with the intelligence that the town was evacuated. He instantly concluded that the grand army was upon its march against
Boonesborough, whose situation, as well as his own,
was exceedingly critical.   Retracing his steps, he
marched, day and night, hoping still to elude the
enemy and reach Boonesborough before them. He
soon fell in with their trail, and, making a circuit to
avoid them, lie passed their army on the sixth (lay of
their march, and on the seventh reached Boonesborough.
  On the eighth the enemy appeared in great force.
There were nearly five hundred Indian warriors, armed
and painted in their usual manner, and, what was still
more formidable, they were conducted by Canadian
officers, well skilled in the usages of modern warfare.
As soon as they were arrayed in front of the fort, the
British colors were displayed, and an officer, with a
flag, was sent to demand the surrender of the fort, with
a promise of quarter and good treatment in case of
compliance, and threatening'- the hatchet" in case of a
storm. Boone requested two days for consideration,
which, in defiance of all experience and common sense,
was granted. This interval, as usual, was employed in
preparation for an obstinate resistance.  The cattle
were brought into the fort, the horses secured, and all
things made ready against the commencement of hostilities.
57
WESTERN AD VENTURE.
  Boone then assembled the garrison, and represented
to them the condition in which they stood. They had
not now to deal with Indians alone, but with British
officers, skilled in the art of attacking fortified places,
sufficiently numerous to direct, but too few to restrain
their savage allies. If they surrendered, their lives
might, and probably would be saved; but they would
suffer much inconvenience, and must lose all their property. If they resisted and were overcome, the life of
every man, woman, and child would be sacrificed. The
hour was now come in which they were to determine
what was to be done. If they were inclined to surrender, he would announce it to the officer; if they were
resolved to maintain the fort, he would share their fate,
whether in life or death. He had scarcely finished,
when every man arose and, in a firm tone, announced
his determination to defend the fort to the last.
  Boone then appeared at the gate of the fortress and
communicated to Captain Duquesne the resolution of
his men. Disappointment and chagrin were strongly
painted upon the face of the Canadian at this answer;
but, endeavoring to disguise his feelings, he declared
that Governor Hamilton had ordered him not to injure
the men if it could be avoided, and that if nine of the
principal inhabitants of the fort would come out into
the plain and treat with them, they would instantly
depart without further hostility. The insidious nature
of this proposal was evident, for they could converse
very well from where they then stood, and going out
would only place the officers of the fort at the mercy
of the savages, not to mention the absurdity of supposing that this army of warriors would "treat," but
upon such terms as pleased them, and no terms were
likely to do so short of a total abandonment of the
coun try.
  Notwithstanding these obvious objections, the word
"treat" sounded so pleasantly in the ears of the besieged, that they agreed at once to the proposal; and
Boone himself, attended by eight of his men, went out
and mitngled with the savages, who crowded around
them in great numbers, and with countenances of deep
58
DANIEL BOONE.
anxiety.  The treaty then commenced, and was soon
concluded. What the terms were, we are not informed,
nor is it a matter of the least importance, as the
whole was a stupid and shallow artifice. This was soon
made manifest.    Duquesne, after many, very many
pretty periods about the " bie,faisance et humaniti"
which should accompany the warfare of civilized beings,
at length informed Boone, that it was a custom with
the Indians, upon the conclusion of a treaty with the
whites, for two warriors to take hold of the hand of
each white man.
  Boone thought this rather a singular custom, but
there was no time to dispute about etiquette, particularly, as he could not he more in their power than he
already was; so he signified his willingness to conform
to the Indian mode of cementing friendship. Instantly,
two warriors approached each white man, with the
word " brother" upon their lips, but a very different
expression in their eyes, and grappling him with
violence, attempted to bear him off. They probably
(unless totally infatuated) expected such a consummation, and all at the same moment sprung from their
enemies and ran to the fort under a heavy fire, which
fortunately only wounded one man.
  We look here in vain for the prudence and sagacity
which usually distinguished Boone.     Indeed, there
seems to have been a contest between him         and
Duquesne, as to which should display the greater
quantum of shallowness. The plot itself was unworthy
of a child, and the execution beneath contempt. For
after all this treachery, to permit his prisoner to
escape from the very midst of his warriors, who certainly might have thrown themselves between Boone
and the fort, argues a poverty or timidity, on the
part of Duquesne, truly despicable.
  The attack instantly commenced by a heavy fire
against the picketing, and was returned with fatal
accuracy by the garrison. The Indians quickly sheltered( themselves, and the action became more cautious
and deliberate. Finding but little effect from the fire
of his men, Duquesne next resorted to a more formid59
A A I AR‘! 05$‘-‘WTQR
S K.  C H E LlAMME£'0:|,‘§|_ LIERARY

,» J ORG”
UNIVERSITY OF P. IT"B
OF ‘

WESTERN ADVENTURE:

CONTAINING AN

ACCOUNT OF THE MOST INTERESTING INCIDENTS
CONNECTED WITH THE SETTLEMENT OF
THE WEST, FROM 1755 TO 1794;

WITH AN APPENDIX.

3 €lL.,%
. at °v"£§"

BY JOHN A'?L’IiVI;CLUNG.

‘ —ALSO -

ADDITIONAL SKETCHES OF ADVENTURE,

COMPILED BY THE PUBLISHERS,

--AND—

A BIOGRAPHY OF JOHN A. M’OLUNG_,  E,

,.y

BY HENRY WALLER.

COVINGTON, KY.:
PUBLISHED BY RICHARD H. COLLINS & Co.
1 8 7 2 .

WESTERN AD VENTURE.
able mode of attack.   The fort stood on the south
bank of the river, within sixty yards of the water.
Commencing under the bank, where their operations
were concealed from the garrison, they attempted to
push a mine into the fort. Their object, however, was
fortunately discovered by the quantity of fresh earth
which they were compelled to throw into the river,
and by which the water became muddy for some distance below.   Boone, who had regained his usual
sagacity, instantly cut a trench within the fort in such
a mintner as to intersect the line of their approach,
and thus frustrated their design.
  The enemy exhausted all their ordinary artifices of
Indian warfhre, but were steadily repulsed in every
effort. Finding their numbers daily thinned by thedeliberate but fatal fire of the garrison, and seeingo no
prosipect of final success, they broke up on the ninth
day of the siege, and returned home. The loss of the
garrison, was two men killed and f,ur wounded. On
the part of the savages, thirty-seven were killed and
many wounded, who, as u,ual, were all carried off.
This was the last siege sustained by Boonesborough.
The country had inctreased so rapidly in numbers, and
so many other stations lay between Boonesborou-h and
the Ohio, that the savages could not reach it without
leaving enemies in the rear.
  In the autumn of this year, Boone returned to
North Carolina for his wife and fthmily, who, as
already observed, had supposed him dead, and returned
to her father. There is a hint in Mr. Alarshall's histoiry, that the family affairs, which detained him in
North Carolina, were of an unpleasant character, but
no explanation is given.
  In the summer of 1780, lie returned to Kentucky
with his family, and settled at Boonesborough. Here
he continued busily engaged upon his farm until the
sixth of October, when, accompanied by his brother,
he went to the Lower Blue Licks, f)r the purpose of
providing himself with salt. This spot seemed fatal
to Bo,)ne. He,re he had once been taken pFisoner by
the Indians; and here he was destined, within two
60
DANIEL BOONE.
years, to lose his youngest son, and to witness the
slaughter of many of his dearest friends. His present
visit was not free from calamity. Upon their return,
they were encountered by a party of Indians, and his
brother, who had accompanied him faithfully through
many years of toil and danger, was killed and scalped
before his eyes.
  Unable either to prevent or avenge his death, Boone
was compelled to fly, and by his superior knowledge
of tihe country contrived to elude his pursuers. They
followed his trail, however, by the scent of a dog, that
pressed him closely, and prevented his concealing himself.  This was one of the most critical moments of
his life, but his usual coolness and fortitude enabled
him to meet it.    He halted until the dog, baying
loudly upon his trail, came within gunshot, when he
deliberately turned and shot him dead. The thickness
of the woods, and the approach of darkness, then
enabled him to effect his escape.
  During the following year, Poonesborough enjoyed
uninterrupted tranquillity. The country had become
comparatively thickly settled, anld was stLudded with
f(rtresses in every direction. Fresh emigrants with
their families were constantly arriving; and many
young unmarried women      (who had heretofore been
extremely scarce) had ventulred to risk themselves in
Kentucky. They could not have selected a spot where
their merit was more properly appre(iated, and were
disposed of very rapidly to the young hunters, most
of whom had hitherto, from necessitv, remained bachelors.  Thriving settlements had beeii pushed beyond
the Kentucky River, anld a number of houses had been
built where Lexington now stands.
  The year 1781 passed away in perfect tranquillity,
and, judging from    appearances, nothing was more
distant, than the terrible struggle which awaited them.
But during the whole of this year, the Indians were
meditating a desperate effort to crush the settlements
at a siingle blow. They had become seriously alarmed
at the tide of emigration which rolled over the country,
and threatened to convert their favorite hunting ground
61
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
into one vast cluster of villages.   The game had
already been much dispersed, the settlers, originally
weak, and scattered over the south side of the Kentucky
River, had now become numerous, and were rapidly
extending to the Ohio. One vigorous and united effort
might still crush their enemies, and regain for themselves the undisputed possession of the western forests.
  A few renegade white men were mingled with them,
and inflamed their wild passions, by dwelling upon the
injuries which they had ever sustained at the hands of
the whites, and of the necessity for instant and vigorous exertion, or of an eternal surrender of every hope
either of redress or vengeance.   Among these, the
most remarkable was Simon Girty.       Runners were
dispatched to most of the north-western tribes, and all
were exhorted to lay aside private jealousy, and unite
in a common cause against these white intruders. In
the meantime, the settlers were busily employed in
opening farms, marrying and giving in marriage,
totally ignorant of the storm which was gathering
upon the Lakes.
  In the spring of 1782, after a long interval of repose, they were harassed by small parties, who preceded
the main body, as the pattering and irregular drops of
rain are the precursors of the approaching storm. In
the month of May, a party of twenty-five Wyandotts
secretly approached Estill's Station, and committed
shocking outrages in its vicinity. Entering a cabin
which stood apart from the rest, they seized a woman
and her two daughters, who, having been violated with
circumstances of savage barbarity, were tomahawked
and scalped. Their bodies, yet warni and bleeding,
were found upon the floor of the cabin. The neighborhood was instantly alarmed. Captain Estill speedily collected a body of twenty-five men, and pursued
their trail with great rapidity. He came up with them
on Hinkston Fork of Licking, immediately after they
had crossed it, and a most severe and desperate conflict ensued.
  The Indians, at first, appeared daunted and began to
fly, but their chief, who was badly wounded by the first
62
DANIEL BOONE.
fire, was heard in a loud voice, ordering them to stand
and return the fire, which was instantly obeyed. The
creek ran between the two parties, and prevented a
charge on either side, without the certainty of great
loss. The parties, therefore, consisting of precisely th'e
same number, formed an irregular line, within fifty
yards of each other, and sheltering themselves behind
trees or logs, they fired with deliberation, as an object
presented itself. The only maneuver which the nature
of the ground permitted, was to extend their lines in
such a manner as to uncover the flank of the enemy,
and even this was extremely dangerous, as every motion
exposed them to a close and deadly fire.
  The action, therefore, was chiefly stationary, neither
party advancing or retreating, and every individual
acting for himself. It had already lasted more than
an hour, without advantage on either side, or any prospect of its termination. Captain Estill had lost onethird of his men, and had inflicted about an equal loss
upon his enemies, who still boldly maintained their
ground, and returned his fire with equal spirit. To
have persevered in the Indian mode of fighting, would
have exposed his party to certain death, one by one,
unless all the Indians should be killed first, who, however, had at least an equal chance with himself. Even
victory, bought at such a price, would have afforded
but a melancholy triumph; yet it was impossible to
retreat or advance without exposing his men to the
greatest danger.
  After coolly revolving these reflections in his mind,
and observing that the enemy exhibited no symptoms
of discouragement, Captain Estill determined to detach
a party of six men, under Lieutenant Miller, with
orders to cross the creek above, and take the Indians
in flank, while he maintained his ground, ready to cooperate, as circumstances might require. But he had
to deal with an enemy equally bold and sagacious. The
Indian chief was quickly aware of the division of the
force opposed to him, from the slackening of the fire in
front; and readily conjecturing his object, he determined
to frustrate it by crossing the creek with his whole
63
WESTERN ADVENTURE.
force, and overwhelming Estill, now weakened by the
absence of Miller.
  The maneuver was bold and masterly, and was executed with deternmined courage. Throwing themselves
into the water, they fell upon Estill with the tomahawk, and drove him     before them   with slaughter.
Miller's party retreated with precipitation, and even
lie under the reproach of deserting their friends, and
absconding, instead of occupying the desie-nated ground.
Others contradict this statement, and affirm that Miller
punctually executed his orders, crossed the creek, and
falling in with the enemy, was compelled to retire with
loss. We think it probable, that the Indians rushed
upon Estill, as above mentioned, and having defeated
him, recrossed the creek and attacked Miller, thus cutting up their enemy in detail.
  Estill's party finding themselves furiously charged,
and receiving no assistance from Miller, who was probably at that time on the other side of the creek, in the
execution of his orders, would naturally consider themselves deserted; and when a clamor of that kind is once
raised against a man (particularly in a defeat), the
voice of reason can no longer be heard. Some scapegoat is always necessary. The broken remains of the
detachment returned to the station, and filled the country with consternation and alarm, greatly disproportioned to the extent of the loss. The brave Estill,
with eight of his men, had fallen, and four more were
wounded, more than half of their omiginal number.
  This, notwithstanding the smallness of the numbers,
is a very rem-irkable action, and, perhaps, more honorable to the Indians than any other one on recoird. The
numbers, the arms, the courage, and the position of
the parties, were equal. Both were composed of good
marksmen, and skillful woodsmen. There was no surprise, no panic, nor any particular accident, according
to the most probable account, which decided the action.
A (lelicate maneuver oni the part of Estill gave an advantage, which was promptly seized by the Indliani chief,
and a bold and masterly movement decided the fate of
the day. The great battles of Austerlitz and Wagram
64*
DANIEL BOONE.
exhibit the same error on the part of one commander,
and the same decisive and successful step on the part
of the other.
  The Arch-Duke Charles extended his line to take the
French in flank, and thereby weakened his center,
which was instantly broken by a rapid charge of the
whole French army. No movement seems more delicate and dangerous than that of Estill, and the first
great check which Bonaparte received (that of Eylau)
was chiefly occasioned by weakeniiig his front in order
to assail the enemy in rear. It requires, however, great
boldness and promptitude in the opposite leader, to take
advantage of it. A cautious and wary leader will be
apt to let the golden opportunity pass away, until the
detachment has reached his fla.nk, and it is then too
late. The English military critics censure our Washington for hesitation of this kind at Brandywine. They
say, that when the detachment of Cornwallis was absent
on its march to take the Americans in flank, Washington should have crossed with his whole force, and have
fallen upon Kniphausen.   Lee says, that such a maneuver was contemplated, but was prevented by false
intelligence.
  The news of Estill's disa:ster was quickly succeeded
by another, scarcely less startling to the alarmnied settlers. Captain Holder, at the head of seventeen men,
pursued a party of Indians who had taken two boys
from the leigihborhood of Hoy's Station. He overtook
them after a rapid pursait, and in the severe action
which ensued, was repulsed with the loss of more than
half his party. The tide of success seened completely
turned in favor of the Indians.   They travernedl the
woods in every direction, sometimes -singly, sometimes
in small partieS, and kept the settlers in constant alarm.
  At lenglth, early in August, the grand effort was
made. The allied Indian army, composed of detachments from nearly all the North-western tribes, and
amounling to nearly six hundred men, commenced
their march fromn Chliillicotle, under the command of
their respective chiefs, aided and influenced by Girty,
McKee, and other renegade white men. With a se65
6WESTERN AD VENTURE.
crecy and celerity peculiar to themselves, they advanced
through the woods without giving the slightest indications of their approach; and on the night of the bourteenth of August, they appeared before Bryant's Station,
as suddenly as if they had risen from the earth, and sur,
rounding it on all sides, calmly awaited the approach of
daylight, holding themselves in readiness to rush in upon
the inhabitants the moment that the gates were opened
in the morning. The supreme influence of fortune in
war was never more strikingly displayed.
  The garrison had determined to march at daylight on
the following morning, to the assistance of Hoy's Station, from which a messenger had arrived the evening
before, with the intelligence of Holder's defeat. Had
the Indians arrived only a few hours later, they would
have found the fort occupied only by old men, women
and children, who could not have resisted their attack
for a moment. As it was, they found the garrison assembled and under arms, most of them busily engaged
throughout the whole night in preparing for an early
march on the following morning. The Indians could
distinctly hear the bustle of preparation, and see lights
glancing from block-houses and cabins during the night,
which must have led them to suspect that their approach had been discovered. All continued tranquil
during the night, and Girty silently concerted the plan
of attack.
   The fort, consisting of about forty cabins placed in
parallel lines, stands upon a gentle rise on the southern
bank of the Elkhorn, a few paces to the right of the
road from Maysville to Lexington. The garrison was
supplied with water from   a spring at some distance
from the fort on its north-western side; a great error,
common to most of the stations, which, in a close and
long-continued siege, must have suffered dreadfully for
want of water.
   The great body of Indians placed themselves in ambush within half rifle shot of the spring, while one hundred select men were placed near the spot where the
road now runs after passing the creek, with orders to
open a brisk fire and show themselves to the garrison
66
DANIEL BOONE.
on that side, for the purpose of drawing them out, while
the main body held themselves in readiness to rush upon
the opposite gate of the fort, hew it down with their
tomahawks, and force their way into the midst of the
cabins. At dawn of day, the garrison paraded under
arms, and were preparing to open their gates and march
off as already mentioned, when they were alarmed by a
furious discharge of rifles, accompanied with yells and
screams, which struck terror to the hearts of the women
and children, and startled even the men.
  All ran hastily to the picketing, and beheld a small
party of Indians, exposed to open view, firing, yelling,
and making the most furious gestures. The appearance
was so singular, and so different from their usual manner of fighting, that some of the more wary and experienced of the garrison instantly pronounced it a decoy
party, and restrained the young men from sallying out
and attacking theim, as some of them were strongly disposed to do. The opposite- side of the fort was instantly
manned, and several breaches in the picketing rapidly
repaired. Their greatest distress arose from the prospect of suffering for water. The more experienced of
the garrison felt satisfied that a powerful party was in
amnbluscade near the spring, but at the same time they
supposed that the Indians would not unmask themselves
until the firing upon the opposite side of the fort was
returned with such warmth, as to induce the belief that
the feint had succeeded.
  Acting upon this impression, and yielding to the urgent necessity of the case, they summoned all the
women, without exception, and explaining to them the
circumstances in which they were placed, and the improbability that any injury would be offered them, until
the firing had been returned from the opposite side of
the fort, they urged them to go in a body to the spring,
and each to bring up a bucket full of water. Some of
the ladies, as was natural, had no relish for the undertaking, and asked why the men could not bring water
as well as themselves? observing that they were not
bullet-proof, and that the Indians made no distinction
between male and female scalps!
67
WESTERN ADVENTUIE.
   To this it was answered, that women were in the habit
of bringing water every nmorning to the fort, and that
if the Indians saw them engaged as usual, it would induce them to believe that their ambuscade was undiscovered, and that they would not unmask themselves
for the sake of firing at a few women, when they hoped,
by remaining concealed a ew\v moments longer, to obtain complete possession of the fort. That if men
shiould go down to the spring, the Indians would immediately suspe~ct that something was wrong, would despair of succeeding by ambuscade, and would instantly
rush upon them, follow them into the fort, or shoot
them down at the spring. The decision was soon over.
   A few of the boldest declared their readiness to brave
the danger, and the younger and more timid rallying
in the rear of these veterans, they all marched down in
a body to the spring, within point-blank shot of more
than five hundred Indian warriors! Some of the girls
could not help betraying symptoms of terror, but the
married women, in general, moved with a steadiness
and comp,sure whi(h completely deceived the Indians.
Not a shot was fired. The party were permitted to fill
their buckets, one after another, without interruption,
and although their steps became quicker and quicker,
on their return, an(d, when near the gate of the fort,
degenerated into a rather unmilitary celerity, attended
with some little crowding in passing the gate, yet not
more than one-fifth of the water was spilled, and the
eyes of the youngest had not dilated to more than
double their ordinary size.
   Being now amply supplied with water, they sent out
 thirteen young men to attack the decoy party, with or ders to fire with great rapidity and make as much noise
 as possible, but not to pursue the enemy too far, while
 the rest of the garrison took post on the opposite side
 of the fort, cocked their guns, and stood in readiness to
 receive the ambuscade as soon as it was unmasked.
 The firing of the light parties on the Lexington road
 was soon heard, and quickly became sharp and serious,
 gradually becoming more distant from   the fort. Instantly Girty sprung up at the head of his five hundred
68
DANIEL BOONE.
warriors, and rushed r,apidly upon the western gate,
ready to force his way over the undefended palisades.
Into this immense mass of dtusky bodies the garrison
poured several rapid volleys of rifle balls, with destructive effect. Their consternation may be imagined.
With wild cries they dispersed on the right and left,
and in two minutes not an Indian was to be seen. At
the same time, the party who had sallied out on the
Lexington road came running into the fort at the opposite gate, in high spirits, and laughing heartily at the
success of their maneuver.
  A regular attack, in the usual manner, then commenced, without much eflfect on either side, until two
o'clock in the afternoon, when a new scene piesented itself. Upon the first appearance of the Indians in the
morning, two of the garrison, Tomlilnson and Bell, had
been mounted upon fleet horses, and sent at full spe d
to Lexington, announcing the arrival of the Indians and
demanding reinforcements. Upon their arrival, a little
after sunrise, they found the town occupied only by women and children and a few old mnen, the rest having
marched, at the intelligence of Holder's defeat, to the
general rendezvous at Hoy:'s Station. The two couriers
instantly followed at a gallop, and overtaking them on
the road, informed them of the danger to which Lexington was exposed during their absence.
  The whole party, amoiiunting to sixt(,en horsemen and
more than double that number on foot, with some additional volunteers from Boone's Station, instantly countermarched, and repaired with all possible expedition to
Bryant's Station. They were entirely ignorant of the
overwhelming numbers opposed to them, or they would
have proceeded with more caution. Tonilinson had only
inf,rnied them that the station was surrounded, being
himself ignorant of the numbers of the enemy. By
great exertions, horse and foot appeared before Bryant's
at two in the afternoon, and pressed forward with precipitate gallantry to throw themselves into the fort. The
Indians, however, had been aware of the departure of
the two couriers, who had, in fact, broken through their
line in order to give the alarm, and, expecting the ar69