[Illustration: THE WOUNDED PIONEER. ]

HEROES AND HUNTERS OF THE WEST:

COMPRISING SKETCHES AND ADVENTURESOFBOONE, KENTON, BRADY, LOGAN, WHETZEL, FLEEHART, HUGHES, JOHNSTON, &c. 

PHILADELPHIA:H. C. PECK & THEO. BLISS. 1860. 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, BY H. C. PECK & THEO. BLISS, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern Districtof Pennsylvania. 

CONTENTS. 

Daniel Boone. 11Simon Kenton. 19George Rogers Clarke. 24Benjamin Logan. 32Samuel Brady. 38Lewis Whetzel. 45Caffree, M'Clure, and Davis. 58Charles Johnston. 66Joseph Logston. 74Jesse Hughes. 81Siege of Fort Henry. 87Simon Girty. 103Joshua Fleehart. 118Indian Fight on the Little Muskingum. 129Escape of Return J. Meigs. 137Estill's Defeat. 144A Pioneer Mother. 154The Squatter's Wife and Daughter. 167Captain William Hubbell. 173Murder of Cornstalk and his Son. 185The Massacre of Chicago. 189The Two Friends. 211Desertion of a young White Man, from a party of Indians. 219Morgan's Triumph. 229Massacre of Wyoming. 233Heroic Women of the West. 243Indian Strategem Foiled. 250Blackbird. 265A Desperate Adventure. 268Adventure of Two Scouts. 276A Young Hero of the West. 299

PREFACE. 

To the lovers of thrilling adventure, the title of this work would alonebe its strongest recommendation. The exploits of the Heroes of the West, need but a simple narration to give them an irresistible charm. Theydisplay the bolder and rougher features of human nature in their noblestlight, softened and directed by virtues that have appeared in the reallyheroic deeds of every age, and form pages in the history of this countrydestined to be read and admired when much that is now deemed moreimportant is forgotten. 

It is true, that, with the lights of this age, we regard many of the deedsof our western pioneer as aggressive, barbarous, and unworthy of civilizedmen. But there is no truly noble heart that will not swell in admirationof the devotion and disinterestedness of Benjamin Logan, the self-reliantenergy of Boone and Whetzel, and the steady firmness and consummatemilitary skill of George Rogers Clarke. The people of this country needrecords of the lives of such men, and we have attempted to present thesein an attractive form. 

[Illustration: CAPTURE OF BOONE. ]

HEROES OF THE WEST. 

DANIEL BOONE. 

In all notices of border life, the name of Daniel Boone appears first--asthe hero and the father of the west. In him were united those qualitieswhich make the accomplished frontiersman--daring, activity, andcircumspection, while he was fitted beyond most of his contemporaryborderers to lead and command. 

Daniel Boone was born either in Virginia or Pennsylvania, and at an earlyage settled in North Carolina, upon the banks of the Yadkin. In 1767, James Findley, the first white man who ever visited Kentucky, returned tothe settlements of North Carolina, and gave such a glowing account of thatwilderness, that Boone determined to venture into it, on a huntingexpedition. Accordingly, in 1769, accompanied by Findley and four others, he commenced his journey. Kentucky was found to be all that the firstadventurer had represented, and the hunters had fine sport. The countrywas uninhabited, but, during certain seasons, parties of the northern andsouthern Indians visited it upon hunting expeditions. These partiesfrequently engaged in fierce conflicts, and hence the beautiful region wasknown as the "dark and bloody ground. "

[Illustration: BATTLE OF BLUE LICKS. ]

On the 22d of December, 1769, Boone and one of his companions, named JohnStuart, left their encampment on the Red river, and boldly followed abuffalo path far into the forest. While roving carelessly from canebraketo canebrake, they were suddenly alarmed by the appearance of a party ofIndians, who, springing from their place of concealment, rushed upon themwith a swiftness which rendered escape impossible. The hunters wereseized, disarmed, and made prisoners. Under these terrible circumstances, Boone's presence of mind was admirable. He saw that there was no chance ofimmediate escape; but he encouraged his companion and constrained himselfto follow the Indians in all their movements, with so constrained an air, that their vigilance began to relax. 

[Illustration: DANIEL BOONE. ]

On the seventh evening of the captivity of the hunter, the party encampedin a thick cane-break, and having built a large fire lay down to rest. About midnight, Boone, who had not closed his eyes, ascertained from thedeep breathing of all around him, that the whole party, including Stuart, was in a deep sleep. Gently extricating himself from the savages who layaround him, he awoke Stuart, informed him of his determination to escape, and exhorted him to follow without noise. Stuart obeyed with quickness andsilence. Rapidly moving through the forest, guided by the light of thestars and the barks of the trees, the hunters reached their former campthe next day, but found it plundered and deserted, with nothing remainingto show the fate of their companions. Soon afterwards, Stuart was shot andscalped, and Boone and his brother who had come into the wilderness fromNorth Carolina, were left alone in the forest. Nay, for several months, Daniel had not a single companion, for his brother returned to NorthCarolina for ammunition. The hardy hunter was exposed to the greatestdangers, but he contrived to escape them all. In 1771, Boone and hisbrother returned to North Carolina, and Daniel, having sold what propertyhe could not take with him, determined to take his family to Kentucky, andmake a settlement. He was joined by others at "Powel's Valley, " andcommenced the journey, at the head of a considerable party of pioneers. Being attacked by the Indians, the adventurers were compelled to return, and it was not until 1774, that the indomitable Boone succeeded inconveying his family to the banks of the Kentucky, and foundingBoonesborough. In the meantime, James Harrod had settled at the stationcalled Harrodsburgh. Other stations were founded by Bryant andLogan--daring pioneers; but Boonesborough was the chief object of Indianhostility, and was exposed to almost incessant attack, from its foundationuntil after the bloody battle of Blue Licks. During this time, DanielBoone was regarded as the chief support and counsellor of the settlers, and in all emergencies, his wisdom and valor was of the greatest service. He met with many adventures, and made some hair-breadth escapes, butsurvived all his perils and hardships and lived to a green old age, enjoying the respect and confidence of a large and happy community, whichhis indomitable spirit had been chiefly instrumental in founding. He neverlost his love of the woods and the chase, and within a few weeks of hisdeath might have been seen, rifle in hand, eager in the pursuit of game. 

[Illustration: SIMON KENTON. ]

[Illustration: LOGAN. ]

SIMON KENTON. 

Simon Kenton was born in Fauquier county, Virginia, on the 15th of May, 1755. His parents were poor, and until the age of sixteen his days seem tohave been passed in the laborious drudgery of a farm. When he was aboutsixteen, an unfortunate occurrence threw him upon his own resources. Arobust young farmer, named Leitchman, and he were rival suitors for thehand of a young coquette, and she being unable to decide between them, they took the matter into their own hands and fought a regular pitchedbattle at a solitary spot in the forest. After a severe struggle, Kentontriumphed, and left his antagonist upon the ground, apparently in theagonies of death. Without returning for a suit of clothing, the youngconqueror fled westward, assumed the name of Butler, joined a party ofdaring hunters, and visited Kentucky, (1773. ) In the wilderness he becamean accomplished and successful hunter and spy, but suffered manyhardships. 

In 1774, the Indian war, occasioned by the murder of the family of thechief, Logan, broke out, and Kenton entered the service of the Virginiansas a spy, in which capacity he acted throughout the campaign, ending withthe battle of Point Pleasant. He then explored the country on both sidesof the Ohio, and hunted in company with a few other, in various parts ofKentucky. When Boonesborough was attacked by a large body of Indians, Simon took an active part in the defence, and in several of Boone'sexpeditions, our hero served as a spy, winning a high reputation. 

In the latter part of 1777, Kenton, having crossed the Ohio, on ahorse-catching expedition, was overtaken and made captive by the Indians. Then commenced a series of tortures to which the annals of Indian warfare, so deeply tinged with horrors, afford few parallels. Having kicked andcuffed him, the savages tied him to a pole, in a very painful position, where they kept him till the next morning, then tied him on a wild coltand drove it swiftly through the woods to Chilicothe. Here he was torturedin various ways. The savages then carried him to Pickaway, where it wasintended to burn him at the stake, but from this awful death, he was savedthrough the influence of the renegade, Simon Girty, who had been his earlyfriend. Still, Kenton was carried about from village to village, andtortured many times. At length, he was taken to Detroit, an English post, where he was well-treated; and he recovered from his numerous wounds. Inthe summer of 1778, he succeeded in effecting his escape, and, after along march, reached Kentucky. 

[Illustration: SIMON GIRTY. ]

Kenton was engaged in all the Indian expeditions up to Wayne's decisivecampaign, in 1794, and was very serviceable as a spy. Few borderers hadpassed through so many hardships, and won so bright a reputation. He livedto a very old age, and saw the country, in which he had fought andsuffered, formed into the busy and populous state of Ohio. In his latterdays, he was very poor, and, but for the kindness of some distinguishedfriends, would have wanted for the necessaries of life. 

GEORGE ROGERS CLARKE. 

In natural genius for military command, few men of the west have equalledGeorge Rogers Clarke. The conception and execution of the famousexpedition against Kaskaskia and Vincennes displayed many of thosequalities for which the best generals of the world have been eulogized, and would have done honor to a Clive. 

Clarke was born in Albermarle county, Virginia, in September, 1753. LikeWashington, he engaged, at an early age, in the business of landsurveying, and was fond of several branches of mathematics. On thebreaking out of Dunmore's war, Clarke took command of a company, andfought bravely at the battle of Point Pleasant, being engaged in the onlyactive operation of the right wing of the Virginians against the Indians. Peace was concluded soon after, by Lord Dunmore, and Clarke, whose gallantbearing had been noticed, was offered a commission in the royal service. But this he refused, as he apprehended that his native country would soonbe at war with Great Britain. 

[Illustration: GEORGE ROGERS CLARKE. ]

Early in 1775, Clarke visited Kentucky as the favorite scene of adventure, and penetrated to Harrodsburgh. His talents were immediately appreciatedby the Kentuckians, and he was placed in command of all the irregulartroops in that wild region. In 1776, the young commander exerted himselfwith extraordinary ability to secure a political organization and themeans of defence to Kentucky, and was so successful as to win the title ofthe founder of the commonwealth. [A]

In partisan service against the Indians, Clarke was active and efficient;but his bold and comprehensive mind looked to checking savage inroads attheir sources. He saw at a glance, that the red men were stimulated tooutrages by the British garrisons of Detroit, Vincennes and Kaskaskia, andwas satisfied that to put an end to them, those posts must be captured. Having sent two spies to reconnoitre Kaskaskia and Vincennes, and gainedconsiderable intelligence of the situation of the enemy, the enterprisingcommander sought aid from the government of Virginia to enable him tocarry out his designs. After some delay, money, supplies, and a fewcompanies of troops were obtained. Clarke then proceeded to Corn Island, opposite the present city of Louisville. Here the objects of theexpedition were disclosed. Some of the men murmured, and others attemptedto desert; but the energy of Colonel Clarke secured obedience and evenenthusiasm. 

The little band soon commenced its march through a wild and difficultcountry, and on the 4th of July, 1778, reached a spot within a few milesof the town of Kaskaskia. Clarke made his arrangements for a surprise withgreat skill and soon after dark, the town was captured without shedding adrop of blood. The inhabitants were at first terror-stricken and expectedto be massacred, but they were soon convinced of their mistake by thebearing and representations of the Virginia commander. Cahokia wascaptured shortly afterwards, without difficulty. 

Clarke's situation was now extremely critical, and he duly appreciated thefact. Vincennes was still in front, so garrisoned, that it seemed madnessto attempt its capture by direct attack. But a bold offensive movementcould alone render the conquests which had been made, permanent andadvantageous. A French priest, named Gibault, secured the favor of theinhabitants of Vincennes for the American interest, and the Indians of theneighborhood were conciliated by the able management of Colonel Clarke, who knew how to win the favor of the men better than any other borderer;but on the 29th of January, 1779, intelligence was received at Kaskaskia, where Clarke was then posted, that Governor Hamilton had taken possessionof Vincennes, and meditated the re-capture of the other posts, preparatoryto assailing the whole frontier, as far as Fort Pitt. 

[Illustration: BATTLE OF POINT PLEASANT. ]

Clarke determined to act upon the offensive immediately, as his onlysalvation. Mounting a galley with two four-pounders and four swivels, andmanning it with forty-six men, he dispatched it up the Wabash, to theWhite River, and on the 7th of February, 1779, marched from Kaskaskia atthe head of only one hundred and seventy men, over the drowned lands ofthe Wabash, against the British post. The march of Arnold by way of theKennebec to Canada can alone be placed as a parallel with this difficultexpedition. The indomitable spirit of Clarke sustained the band throughthe most incredible fatigues. On the 28th the expedition approached thetown, still undiscovered. The American commander then issued aproclamation, intended to produce an impression that his force was largeand confident of success, and invested the fort. So vigorously was thesiege prosecuted that the garrison was reduced to straits, and GovernorHamilton compelled to capitulate. (24th of February, 1779. ) This was abrilliant achievement and reflected the highest honor upon Colonel Clarkeand his gallant band. Detroit was now in full view, and Clarke wasconfident he could capture it if he had but five hundred men; but he couldnot obtain that number, till the chances of success were annihilated, andthus his glorious expedition terminated. The object of the enterprise, however, which was the checking of Indian depredations, was accomplished. Clarke afterwards engaged in other military enterprises and held highcivil offices in Kentucky; but at the capture of Vincennes his famereached its greatest brilliancy, and posterity will not willingly let itdie. 

-----

 [A] Butler. 

BENJAMIN LOGAN. 

The real heroic spirit, which delights in braving the greatest dangers inthe cause of humanity, was embodied in Benjamin Logan, one of the firstsettlers in Kentucky. This distinguished borderer was born in Augustacounty, Virginia. At an early age he displayed the noble impulses of hisheart; for upon the death of his father, when the laws of Virginia allowedhim, as the eldest son, the whole property of the intestate, he sold thefarm and distributed the money among his brothers and sisters, reserving aportion for his mother. At the age of twenty-one, Logan removed to thebanks of the Holston, where he purchased a farm, and married. He served inDunmore's war. In 1775, he removed to Kentucky, and soon becamedistinguished among the hardy frontiersmen for firmness, prudence, andhumanity. In the following year he returned for his family, and broughtthem to a small settlement called Logan's Fort, not far fromHarrodsburgh. 

[Illustration: LOGAN JOURNEYING INTO KENTUCKY. ]

On the morning of the 20th of May, 1777, the women were milking the cowsat the gate of the little fort, and some of the garrison attending them, when a party of Indians appeared and fired at them. One man was shot dead, and two more wounded, one of them mortally. The whole party instantly raninto the fort, and closed the gate. The enemy quickly showed themselves atthe edge of the canebrake, within rifle-shot of the gate, and seemednumerous and determined. A spectacle was now presented to the garrisonwhich awakened interest and compassion. A man, named Harrison, had beenseverely wounded, and still lay near the spot where he had fallen. Thepoor fellow strove to crawl towards the fort, and succeeded in reaching acluster of bushes, which, however, were too thin to shelter his personfrom the enemy. His wife and children in the fort were in deep distress athis situation. The case was one to try the hearts of men. The numbers ofthe garrison were so small, that it was thought folly to sacrifice anymore lives in striving to save one seemingly far spent. Logan endeavoredto persuade some of the men to accompany him in a sally; but the dangerwas so appalling that only one man, John Martin, could be induced to makethe attempt. The gate was opened, and the two sallied forth, Logan leadingthe way. They had advanced about five steps, when Harrison made a vigorousattempt to rise, and Martin, supposing him able to help himself, sprangback within the gate. Harrison fell at full-length upon the grass. Loganpaused a moment after the retreat of Martin, then sprang forward to thespot where Harrison lay, seized the wounded man in his arms, and in spiteof a tremendous shower of balls poured from every side, reached the fortwithout receiving a scratch, though the gate and picketing near him wereriddled and his clothes pierced in several places. 

Soon afterwards, the heroic Logan again performed an act of self-devotion. The fort was vigorously assailed, and although the little garrison made abrave defence, their destruction seemed imminent, on account of thescarcity of ammunition. Holston was the nearest point where supplies couldbe obtained. But who would brave so many dangers in the attempt to procureit? No one but Logan. After encouraging his men to hope for his speedyreturn, he crawled through the Indian encampment on a dark night, proceeded by by-paths, which no white man had then trodden, reachedHolston, obtained a supply of powder and lead, returned by the same almostinaccessible paths, and got safe within the walls of the fort. Thegarrison was inspired with fresh courage, and in a few days, theappearance of Colonel Bowman, with a body of troops, compelled the savagesto retire. 

Logan led several expeditions into the Indian country, and won a highrenown as one of the boldest and most successful of Kentucky's heroes. When the Indian depredations were, in a great measure, checked, he devotedhimself to civil affairs, and exerted considerable influence upon thepolitics of the country. Throughout his career, he was beloved andrespected as a fearless, honest, and intelligent man. 

SAMUEL BRADY. 

Captain Samuel Brady was the Daniel Boone of Western Pennsylvania. Asbrave as a lion, as swift as a deer, and as cautious as a panther, he gavethe Indians reason to tremble at the mention of his name. As the captainof the rangers he was the favorite of General Brodhead, the commander ofthe Pennsylvania forces, and regarded by the frontier inhabitants as theireye and arm. 

The father and brother of Captain Brady being killed by the Indians, it issaid that our hero vowed to revenge their murder, and never be at peacewith the Indians of any tribe. Many instances of such dreadful vows, madein moments of bitter anguish, occur in the history of our border, and, when we consider the circumstances, we can scarcely wonder at the number, though, as Christians, we should condemn such bloody resolutions. 

[Illustration: GENERAL BRODHEAD. ]

Many of Brady's exploits are upon record; and they are entitled to ouradmiration for their singular daring and ingenuity. One of the mostremarkable is known in border history as Brady's Leap. The energeticBrodhead, by an expedition into the Indian country, had delivered suchdestructive blows that the savages were quieted for a time. The generalkept spies out, however, for the purpose of guarding against suddenattacks on the settlements. One of the scouting parties, under the commandof Captain Brady, had the French creek country assigned as their field ofduty. The captain reached the waters of Slippery Rock, without seeing anysigns of Indians. Here, however, he came on a trail, in the evening, whichhe followed till dark, without overtaking the enemy. The next morning thepursuit was renewed, and Brady overtook the Indians while they were attheir morning meal. Unfortunately, another party of savages was in hisrear, and when he fired upon those in front, he was in turn fired uponfrom behind. He was now between two fires, and greatly outnumbered. Two ofhis men fell, his tomahawk was shot from his side, and the enemy shoutedfor the expected triumph. There was no chance of successful defence in theposition of the rangers, and they were compelled to break and flee. 

Brady ran towards the creek. The Indians pursued, certain of making himcaptive, on account of the direction he had taken. To increase theirspeed, they threw away their guns, and pressed forward with raisedtomahawk. Brady saw his only chance of escape, which was to leap thecreek, afterwards ascertained to be twenty-two feet wide and twenty deep. Determined never to fall alive into the hands of the Indians, he made amighty effort, sprang across the abyss of waters and stood rifle in handupon the opposite bank. As quick as lightning, he proceeded to load hisrifle. A large Indian, who had been foremost in pursuit, came to theopposite bank, and after magnanimously doing justice to the captain byexclaiming "Blady make good jump!" made a rapid retreat. 

Brady next went to the place appointed as a rendezvous for his party, andfinding there three of his men, commenced his homeward march, about halfdefeated. Three Indians had been killed while at their breakfast. Thesavages did not return that season, to do any injury to the whites, andearly in the fall, moved off to join the British, who had to keep themduring the winter, their corn having been destroyed by General Brodhead. Brady survived all his perils and hardships and lived to see the Indianscompletely humbled before those whites on whom they had committed so manyoutrages. 

[Illustration: MASSACRE OF MRS. WHETZEL AND HER CHILDREN. ]

LEWIS WHETZEL. 

The Whetzel family is remembered in the west for the courage, resolution, and skill in border warfare displayed by four of its members. Their nameswere Martin, Lewis, Jacob, and John. Of these, Lewis won the highestrenown, and it is doubtful whether Boone, Brady, or Kenton equaled him inboldness of enterprise. 

In the hottest part of the Indian war, old Mr. Whetzel, who was a German, built his cabin some distance from the fort at Wheeling. One day, duringthe absence of the two oldest sons, Martin and John, a numerous party ofIndians surrounded the house, killed, tomahawked and scalped old Mr. Whetzel, his wife, and the small children, and carried off Lewis, who wasthen about thirteen years old, and Jacob who was about eleven. Before theyoung captives had been carried far, Lewis contrived their escape. Whenthese two boys grew to be men, they took a solemn oath never to make peacewith the Indians as long as they had strength to wield a tomahawk or sightto draw a bead, and they kept their oath. 

The appearance of Lewis Whetzel was enough to strike terror into commonmen. He was about five feet ten inches high, having broad shoulders, afull breast, muscular limbs, a dark skin, somewhat pitted by the smallpox, hair which, when combed out, reached to the calves of his legs, andblack eyes, whose excited and vindictive glance would curdle the blood. Heexcelled in all exercises of strength and activity, could load his riflewhile running with almost the swiftness of a deer, and was so habituatedto constant action, that an imprisonment of three days, as ordered byGeneral Harmar, was nearly fatal to him. He had the most thoroughself-reliance as his long, solitary and perilous expeditions into theIndian country prove. 

[Illustration: INDIAN CHIEF. ]

In the year of 1782, Lewis Whetzel went with Thomas Mills, who had been inthe campaign, to get a horse, which he had left near the place where St. Clairsville now stands. At the Indian Spring, two miles above St. Clairsville, on the Wheeling road, they were met by about forty Indians, who were in pursuit of the stragglers from the campaign. The Indians andthe white men discovered each other about the same time. Lewis firedfirst, and killed an Indian; the fire from the Indians wounded Mr. Mills, and he was soon overtaken and killed. Four of the Indians then singledout, dropped their guns, and pursued Whetzel. Whetzel loaded his rifle ashe ran. After running about half a mile, one of the Indians having gotwithin eight or ten steps of him, Whetzel wheeled round and shot him down, ran on, and loaded as before. After going about three-quarters of a milefurther, a second Indian came so close to him, that when he turned tofire, the Indian caught the muzzle of his gun, and as he expressed it, heand the Indian had a severe wring for it; he succeeded, however, inbringing the gun to the Indian's breast, and killed him on the spot. Bythis time, he, as well as the Indians, were pretty well tired; the pursuitwas continued by the remaining two Indians. Whetzel, as before, loaded hisgun, and stopped several times during the chase. When he did so theIndians treed themselves. After going something more than a mile, Whetzeltook advantage of a little open piece of ground, over which the Indianswere passing, a short distance behind him, to make a sudden stop for thepurpose of shooting the foremost, who got behind a little sapling, whichwas too small to cover his body. Whetzel shot, and broke his thigh; thewound, in the issue, proved fatal. The last of the Indians then gave alittle yell, and said, "No catch dat man--gun always loaded, " and gave upthe chase; glad, no doubt, to get off with his life. 

Another of this daring warrior's exploits is worthy of a place beside themost remarkable achievements of individual valor. In the year 1787, aparty of Indians crossed the Ohio, killed a family, and scalped withimpunity. This murder spread great alarm through the sparse settlementsand revenge was not only resolved upon, but a handsome reward was offeredfor scalps. Major McMahan, who often led the borderers in their hardyexpeditions, soon raised a company of twenty men, among whom was LewisWhetzel. They crossed the Ohio and pursued the Indian trail until theycame to the Muskingum river. There the spies discovered a large party ofIndians encamped. Major McMahan fell back a short distance, and held aconference when a hasty retreat was resolved upon as the most prudentcourse, Lewis Whetzel refused to take part in the council, or join in theretreat. He said he came out to hunt Indians; they were now found and hewould either lose his own scalp or take that of a "red skin. " Allarguments were thrown away upon this iron-willed man; he never submittedto the advice or control of others. His friends were compelled to leavehim a solitary being surrounded by vigilant enemies. 

[Illustration: LEWIS WHETZEL'S SINGULAR ESCAPE. ]

As soon as the major's party had retired beyond the reach of danger, Whetzel shouldered his rifle, and marched off into a different part of thecountry, hoping that fortune would place a lone Indian in his way. Heprowled through the woods like a panther, eager for prey, until the nextevening, when he discovered a smoke curling up among the bushes. Creepingsoftly to the fire, he found two blankets and a small copper kettle, andconcluded that it was the camp of two Indians. He concealed himself in thethick brush, in such a position that he could see the motions of theenemy. About sunset the two Indians came in, cooked and ate their supper, and then sat by the fire engaged in conversation. About nine o'clock oneof them arose, shouldered his rifle, took a chunk of fire in his hand, andleft the camp, doubtless in search of a deer-lick. The absence of thisIndian was a source of vexation and disappointment to Whetzel, who hadbeen so sure of his prey. He waited until near break of day, and still theexpected one did not return. The concealed warrior could delay no longer. He walked cautiously to the camp, found his victim asleep, and drawing aknife buried it in the red man's heart. He then secured the scalp, and setoff for home, where he arrived only one day after his companions. For thescalp, he claimed and received the reward. 

Here is another of Lewis Whetzel's remarkable exploits. Returning homefrom a hunt, north of the Ohio, he was walking along in that recklessmanner, which is a consequence of fatigue, when his quick eye suddenlycaught sight of an Indian in the act of raising his gun to fire. Bothsprung like lightning to the woodman's forts, large trees, and there theystood for an hour, each afraid of the other. This quiet mode of warfaredid not suit the restless Whetzel, and he set his invention to work toterminate it. Placing his bear-skin cap on the end of his ramrod, heprotruded it slightly and cautiously as if he was putting his head toreconnoitre, and yet was hesitating in the venture. The simple savage wascompletely deceived. As soon as he saw the cap, he fired and it fell. Whetzel then sprang forward to the astonished red man, and with a shotfrom the unerring rifle brought him to the ground quite dead. Thetriumphant ranger then pursued his march homeward. 

But it was in a deliberate attack upon a party of four Indians that ourhero displayed the climax of daring and resolution. While on a fall hunt, on the Muskingum, he came upon a camp of four savages, and with but littlehesitation resolved to attempt their destruction. He concealed himselftill midnight, and then stole cautiously upon the sleepers. As quick asthought, he cleft the skull of one of them. A second met the same fate, and as a third attempted to rise, confused by the horrid yells, whichWhetzel gave with his blows, the tomahawk stretched him in death. Thefourth Indian darted into the darkness of the wood and escaped, althoughWhetzel pursued him for some distance. Returning to camp, the rangerscalped his victims and then left for home. When asked on his return, "What luck?" he replied, "Not much. I treed four Indians, and one gotaway. " Where shall we look for deeds of equal daring and hardihood?Martin, Jacob, and John Whetzel were bold warriors; and in the course ofthe Indian war, they secured many scalps; but they never obtained thereputation possessed by their brother, Lewis. All must condemn crueltywherever displayed, but it is equally our duty to render just admirationto courage, daring, and indomitable energy, qualities in which the Whetzelbrothers have rarely if ever been excelled. 

[Illustration: LEWIS WHETZEL'S STRATAGEM. ]

General Clark, the companion of Lewis in the celebrated tour across theRocky Mountains, having heard much of Lewis Whetzel, in Kentucky, determined to secure his services for the exploring expedition. Afterconsiderable hesitation, Whetzel consented to go, and accompanied theparty during the first three months' travel, but then declined going anyfurther, and returned home. Shortly after this, he left again on aflat-boat, and never returned. He visited a relation, named Sikes, livingabout twenty miles in the interior, from Natchez, and there made his home, until the summer of 1808, when he died, leaving a fame for valor and skillin border warfare, which will not be allowed to perish. 

CAFFREE, M'CLURE, AND DAVIS. 

About 1784, horse-stealing was as common as hunting to the whites andIndians of the west. Thefts and reprisals were almost constantly made. Some southern Indians having stolen horses from Lincoln county, Kentucky, three young men, named Caffree, M'Clure, and Davis, set out in pursuit ofthem. Coming in sight of an Indian town, near the Tennessee river, theymet three red men. The two parties made signs of peace, shook hands, andagreed to travel together. Both were suspicious, however, and at length, from various indications, the whites became satisfied of the treacherousintentions of the Indians, and resolved to anticipate then. Caffree beinga very powerful man, proposed that he himself should seize one Indian, while Davis and M'Clure should shoot the other two. Caffree sprang boldlyupon the nearest Indian, grasped his throat firmly, hurled him to theground, and drawing a cord from his pocket attempted to tie him. At thesame instant, Davis and M'Clure attempted to perform their respectiveparts. M'Clure 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 Caffreeremained upon the ground with the captured Indian--both exposed to thefire of the others. In a few seconds, the savage at whom Davis hadflashed, shot Caffree as he lay upon the ground and gave him a mortalwound--and was instantly shot in turn by M'Clure who had reloaded his gun. Caffree becoming very weak, called upon Davis to come and assist him intying the Indian, and directly afterwards expired. As Davis was running upto the assistance of his friend--the Indian released himself, killed hiscaptor, sprung to his feet, and seizing Caffree's rifle, presented itmenacingly at Davis, whose gun was not in order for service, and who ranoff into the forest, closely pursued by the Indian. M'Clure hastilyreloaded his gun and taking the rifle which Davis had dropped, followedthem for some distance into the forest, making all signals which had beenconcerted between them in case of separation. All, however, was vain--hesaw nothing more of Davis, nor could he ever afterwards learn his fate. Ashe never returned to Kentucky, however, he probably perished. 

[Illustration: A SOUTHERN INDIAN. ]

M'Clure, finding himself alone in the enemy's country, and surrounded bydead bodies, thought it prudent to abandon the object of the expeditionand return to Kentucky. He accordingly retraced his steps, still bearingDavis' 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 onfoot. Dropping one of the rifles, which might have created suspicion, M'Clure advanced with an air of confidence, extending his hand and makingother signs of peace. The opposite party appeared frankly to receive hisovertures, and dismounting, seated himself upon a log, and drawing out hispipe, gave a few puffs himself, and then handed it to M'Clure. In a fewminutes another bell was heard, at the distance of half a mile, and asecond party of Indians appeared upon horseback. The Indian with M'Clurenow coolly informed him by signs that when the horseman arrived, he(M'Clure) was to be bound and carried off as a prisoner with his feet tiedunder the horse's belly. In order to explain it more fully, the Indian gotastride of the log, and locked his legs together underneath it. M'Clure, internally thanking the fellow for his excess of candor, determined todisappoint him, and while his enemy was busily engaged in riding the log, and mimicking the actions of a prisoner, he very quietly blew his brainsout, and ran off into the woods. The Indian boy instantly mounted thebelled horse, and rode off in an opposite direction. M'Clure was fiercelypursued by several small Indian dogs, that frequently ran between his legsand threw him down. After falling five or six times, his eyes became fullof dust and he was totally blind. Despairing of escape, he doggedly layupon his face, expecting every instant to feel the edge of the tomahawk. To his astonishment, however, no enemy appeared, and even the Indian dogsafter tugging at him for a few minutes, and completely stripping him ofhis breeches, left him to continue his journey unmolested. Finding everything quiet, in a few moments he arose, and taking up his gun continuedhis march to Kentucky. 

[Illustration: CAFFREE KILLED BY THE INDIAN. ]

CHARLES JOHNSTON. 

In March, 1790 a boat, containing four men and two women, passing down theOhio, was induced by some renegade whites to approach the shore, near themouth of the Sciota, and then attacked by a large party of Indians. A Mr. John May and one of the women were shot dead, and the others thensurrendered. The chief of the band was an old warrior, named Chickatommo, and under his command were a number of renowned red men. When theprisoners were distributed, a young man named Charles Johnson, was givento a young Shawnee chief who is represented to have been a noblecharacter. His name was Messhawa, and he had just reached the age ofmanhood. His person was tall and seemingly rather fitted for action thanstrength. His bearing was stately, and his countenance expressive of anoble disposition. He possessed great influence among those of his owntribe, which he exerted on the side of humanity. On the march, Messhawarepeatedly saved Johnson from the tortures which the other savagesdelighted to inflict, and the young captive saw some displays of generousexertion on the part of the chief which are worthy of a place in borderhistory. 

[Illustration: MESSHAWA. ]

The warriors painted themselves in the most frightful colors, andperformed a war dance, with the usual accompaniments. A stake, painted inalternate stripes of black and vermilion, was fixed in the ground, and thedancers moved in rapid but measured evolutions around it. They recounted, with great energy, the wrongs they had received from the whites. --Theirlands had been taken from them--their corn cut up--their villagesburnt--their friends slaughtered--every injury which they had received wasdwelt upon, until their passions had become inflamed beyond control. Suddenly, Chickatommo darted from the circle of dancers, and with eyesflashing fire, ran up to the spot where Johnston was sitting, calmlycontemplating the spectacle before him. When within reach he struck him afurious blow with his fist, and was preparing to repeat it, when Johnstonseized him by the arms, and hastily demanded the cause of such unprovokedviolence. Chickatommo, grinding his teeth with rage, shouted "Sit down, sit down!" Johnston obeyed, and the Indian, perceiving the two childrenwithin ten steps of him, snatched up a tomahawk, and advanced upon themwith a quick step, and a determined look. The terrified little creaturesinstantly arose from the log on which they were sitting, and fled into thewoods, uttering the most piercing screams, while their pursuer rapidlygained upon them with uplifted tomahawk. The girl, being the youngest, wassoon overtaken, and would have been tomahawked, had not Messhawa boundedlike a deer to her relief. He arrived barely in time to arrest theuplifted tomahawk of Chickatommo, after which, he seized him by the collarand hurled him violently backward to the distance of several paces. Snatching up the child in his arms, he then ran after the brother, intending to secure him likewise from the fury of his companion, but theboy, misconstruing his intention, continued his flight with such rapidity, and doubled several times with such address, that the chase was prolongedto the distance of several hundred yards. At length Messhawa succeeded intaking him. The boy, thinking himself lost, uttered a wild cry, which wasechoed by his sister, but both were instantly calmed. Messhawa took themin his arms, spoke to them kindly, and soon convinced them that they hadnothing to fear from him. He quickly reappeared, leading them gently bythe hand, and soothing them in the Indian language, until they both clungto him closely for protection. 

No other incident disturbed the progress of the ceremonies, nor didChickatommo appear to resent the violent interference of Messhawa. 

[Illustration: CHICKATOMMO. ]

After undergoing many hardships, Johnston was taken to Sandusky, where hewas ransomed by a French trader. Messhawa took leave of his young captivewith many expressions of esteem and friendship. This noble chief was inthe battle of the Fallen Timber and afterwards became a devoted followerof the great Tecumseh--thus proving that while he was as humane as acivilized man, he was patriotic and high-spirited enough to resent thewrongs of his people. He was killed at the battle of the Thames, where thepower of the Shawnees was for ever crushed. 

JOSEPH LOGSTON. 

Big Joe Logston was a noted character in the early history of the west. Hewas born and reared among the Alleghany mountains, near the source of thenorth branch of the Potomac, some twenty or thirty miles from anysettlement. He was tall, muscular, excelled in all the athletic sports ofthe border, and was a first-rate shot. Soon after Joe arrived at years ofdiscretion, his parents died, and he went out to the wilds of Kentucky. There, Indian incursions compelled him to take refuge in a fort. This pentup life was not at all to Joe's taste. He soon became very restless, andevery day insisted on going out with others to hunt up cattle. At lengthno one would accompany him, and he resolved to go out alone. He rode thegreater part of the day without finding any cattle, and then concluded toreturn to the fort. As he was riding along, eating some grapes, with whichhe had filled his hat, he heard the reports of the two rifles; one ballpassed through the paps of his breast, which were very prominent, and theother struck the horse behind the saddle, causing the beast to sink in itstracks. 

[Illustration: INDIANS AMBUSHED FOR JOE LOGSTON. ]

Joe was on his feet in an instant and might have taken to his heels withthe chances of escape greatly in his favor. But to him flight was neveragreeable. The moment the guns were fired, an Indian sprang forward withan uplifted tomahawk; but as Joe raised his rifle, the savage jumpedbehind two saplings, and kept springing from one to the other to cover hisbody. The other Indian was soon discovered behind a tree loading his gun. When in the act of pushing down his bullet, he exposed his hips and Joefired a load into him. The first Indian then sprang forward and threw histomahawk at the head of the white warrior, who dodged it. Joe then clubbedhis gun and made at the savage, thinking to knock him down. In striking, he missed, and the gun now reduced to the naked barrel, flew out of hishands. The two men then sprang at each other with no other weapons thanthose of nature. A desperate scuffle ensued. Joe could throw the Indiandown, but could not hold him there. At length, however, by repeated heavyblows, he succeeded in keeping him down, and tried to choke him with theleft hand while he kept the right free for contingencies. Directly, Joesaw the savage trying to draw a knife from its sheath, and waiting till itwas about half way out, he grasped it quickly and sank it up to the handlein the breast of his foe, who groaned and expired. 

Springing to his feet, Joe saw the Indian he had crippled, propped againsta log, trying to raise his gun to fire, but falling forward, every time hemade the attempt. The borderer, having enough of fighting for one day, andnot caring to be killed by a crippled Indian, made for the fort, where hearrived about nightfall. He was blood and dirt from crown to toe, andwithout horse, hat, or gun. 

The next morning a party went to Joe's battle-ground. On looking round, they found a trail, as if something had been dragged away, and at a littledistance they came upon the big Indian, covered up with leaves. About ahundred yards farther, they found the Indian Joe had crippled, lying onhis back, with his own knife sticking up to the hilt in his body, justbelow the breast bone, evidently to show that he had killed himself. Someyears after this fight, Big Joe Logston lost his life in a contest with agang of outlaws. He was one of those characters who were necessary to thesettlement of the west, but who would not have been highly esteemed incivilized society. 

[Illustration: INDIAN IN AMBUSH]

JESSE HUGHES. 

Jesse Hughes was born and reared in Clarksburgh, Harrison county, Virginia, on the head-waters of the Monongahela. He was a light-built, active man, and from his constant practice became one of the best huntersand Indian fighters on the frontier. Having a perfect knowledge of all theartifices of the Indians, he was quick to devise expedients to frustratethem. Of this, the following exploit is an illustration. At a time ofgreat danger from Indian incursions, when the citizens in the neighborhoodwhere in a fort at Clarksburgh, Hughes one morning observed a lad veryhurriedly engaged in fixing his gun. 

"Jim, " said he, "what are you doing that for?"

"I am going to shoot a turkey that I hear gobbling on the hill side, "replied Jim. 

"I hear no turkey, " said Hughes. 

"Listen, " said Jim. "There, didn't you hear it? Listen again!"

"Well, " said Hughes, after hearing it repeated, "I'll go and kill it. "

"No you won't. It's my turkey. I heard it first, " said Jim. 

"Well, " said Hughes, "but you know I am the best marksman; and besides, Idon't want the turkey, you may have it. "

The lad then agreed that Hughes should go and kill it for him. Hughes wentout of the fort on the side that was farthest from the supposed turkey, and running along the river, went up a ravine and came in on the rear, where, as he expected, he saw an Indian, sitting on a chestnut stump, surrounded by sprouts, gobbling and watching to see if any one would comefrom the fort to kill the turkey. Hughes crept up and shot him dead. Thesuccessful ranger then took off the scalp, and went into the fort, whereJim was waiting for the prize. 

"There, now, " said Jim, "you have let the turkey go. I would have killedit if I had gone. "

"No, " said Hughes, "I didn't let it go, " and he threw down the scalp. "There, take your turkey, Jim; I don't want it. "

The lad nearly fainted, as he thought of the death he had so narrowlyescaped, owing to the keen perception and good management of Mr. Hughes. 

The sagacity of our border hero was fully proved upon another occasion. About 1790, the Indians visited Clarksburgh, in the night, and contrivedto steal a few horses, with which they made a hasty retreat. Aboutdaylight the next morning, a party of twenty-five or thirty men, amongwhom was Jesse Hughes, started in pursuit. They found a trail just outsideof the settlement, and from the signs, supposed that the marauding partyconsisted of eight or ten Indians. A council was held to determine how thepursuit should be continued. Mr. Hughes was opposed to following thetrail. He said he could pilot the party to the spot where the Indianswould cross the Ohio, by a nearer way than the enemy could go, and thusrender success certain. But the captain of the party insisted on followingthe trail. Mr. Hughes then pointed out the dangers of such a course. Suddenly, the captain, with unreasonable obstinacy, called aloud to thosewho were brave to follow him and let the cowards go home. Hughes knew thecaptain's remark was intended for him, but smothered his indignation andwent on with the party. 

They had not pursued very far when the trail went down a drain, where theridge on one side was very steep, with a ledge of rocks for a considerabledistance. On the top of the cliff, two Indians lay in ambush, and when thecompany got opposite to them, they made a noise, which caused the whitesto stop; that instant two of the company were mortally wounded, and beforethe rangers could get round to the top of the cliff, the Indians madetheir escape with ease. This was as Hughes had predicted. All then agreedthat the plan rejected by the captain was the best, and urged Hughes tolead them to the Ohio river. This he consented to do, though fearful thatthe Indians would cross before he could reach the point. Leaving some ofthe company to take care of the wounded men, the party started, andarrived at the Ohio the next day, about an hour after the Indians hadcrossed. The water was yet muddy in the horses' trails, and the rafts thatthe red men had used were floating down the opposite shore. The companywas now unanimous for returning home. Hughes said he wanted to find outwho the cowards were. He said that if any of them would go with him, hewould cross the river, and scalp some of the Indians. Not one could befound to accompany the daring ranger, who thus had full satisfaction forthe captain's insult. He said he would go by himself, and take a scalp, orleave his own with the savages. The company started for home, and Hugheswent up the river three or four miles, then made a raft, crossed theriver, and camped for the night. The next day, he found the Indian trail, pursued it very cautiously, and about ten miles from the Ohio, came uponthe camp. There was but one Indian in it; the rest were all out hunting. The red man was seated, singing, and playing on some bones, made into arude musical instrument, when Hughes crept up and shot him. The rangerthen took the scalp, and hastened home in triumph, to tell his adventuresto his less daring companions. 

[Illustration: FORT HENRY. ]

SIEGE OF FORT HENRY. 

The siege of Fort Henry, at the mouth of Wheeling creek, in the year 1777, is one of the most memorable events in Indian warfare--remarkable for theindomitable bravery displayed by the garrison in general, and for somethrilling attendant incidents. The fort stood immediately on the left bankof the Ohio river, about a quarter of a mile above Wheeling creek, and atmuch less distance from an eminence which rises abruptly from the bottomland. The space inclosed was about three quarters of an acre. In shape thefort was a parallelogram, having a block-house at each corner with linesof pickets eight feet high between. Within the inclosures was astore-house, barrack-rooms, garrison-well, and a number of cabins for theuse of families. The principal entrance was a gateway on the eastern sideof the fort. Much of the adjacent land was cleared and cultivated, andnear the base of the hill stood some twenty-five or thirty cabins, whichform the rude beginning of the present city of Wheeling. The fort is saidto have been planned by General George Rogers Clarke; and was constructedby Ebenezer Zane and John Caldwell. When first erected, it was called FortFincastle but the name was afterwards changed in compliment to PatrickHenry the renowned orator and patriotic governor of Virginia. 

At the time of the commencement of the siege, the garrison of Fort Henrynumbered only forty-two men, some of whom were enfeebled by age whileothers were mere boys. All, however, were excellent marksmen, and most ofthem, skilled in border warfare. Colonel David Shepherd, was a brave andresolute officer in whom the borderers had full confidence. Thestore-house was well-supplied with small arms, particularly muskets, butsadly deficient in ammunition. 

In the early part of September, 1777, it was ascertained that a largeIndian army was concentrating on the Sandusky river, under the command ofthe bold, active, and skilful renegade, Simon Girty. Colonel Shepherd hadmany trusty and efficient scouts on the watch; but Girty deceived them alland actually brought his whole force of between four and five hundredIndians before Fort Henry before his real object was discovered. 

[Illustration: PATRICK HENRY. ]

On the 26th, an alarm being given all the inhabitants in the vicinityrepaired to the fort for safety. At break of day, on the 27th, ColonelShepherd, wishing to dispatch an express to the nearest settlements foraid, sent a white man and a negro to bring in some horses. While these menwere passing through the cornfield south of the fort, they encountered aparty of six Indians, one of whom raised his gun and brought the white manto the ground. The negro fled and reached the fort without receiving anyinjury. As soon as he related his story, Colonel Shepherd dispatchedCaptain Mason, with fourteen men, to dislodge the Indians from thecornfield. Mason marched almost to the creek without finding any Indians, and was about to return, when he was furiously assailed in front, flankand rear by the whole of Girty's army. Of course, the little band wasthrown into confusion, but the brave captain rallied his men, and takingthe lead, hewed a passage through the savage host. In the struggle, morethan half of the party were slain, and the gallant Mason severely wounded. An Indian fired at the captain at the distance of five paces and wounded, but did not disable him. Turning about, he hurled his gun, felled thesavage to the earth, and then succeeded in hiding himself in a pile offallen timbers, where he was compelled to remain to the end of the siege. Only two of his men survived the fight, and they owed their safety to theheaps of logs and brush which abounded in the cornfield. 

As soon as the perilous situation of Captain Mason became known at thefort, Captain Ogle was sent out with twelve men, to cover his retreat. This party fell into an ambuscade and two-thirds of the number were slainupon the spot. Captain Ogle found a place of concealment, where he wasobliged to remain until the end of the siege. Sergeant Jacob Ogle, thoughmortally wounded, managed to escape, with two soldiers into the woods. 

The Indian army now advanced to the assault, with terrific yells. A fewshots from the garrison, however, compelled them to halt. Girty thenchanged the order of attack. Parties of Indians were placed in such of thevillage-houses as commanded a view of the block-houses. A strong partyoccupied the yard of Ebenezer Zane, about fifty yards from the fort, usinga paling fence as a cover, while the main force was posted under cover onthe edge of a cornfield to act as occasion might require. 

Girty then appeared at the window of a cabin, with a white flag in hishand, and demanded the surrender of the fort in the name of his Britanicmajesty. At this time, the garrison numbered only twelve men and two boys. Yet the gallant Colonel Shepherd promptly replied to the summons, that thefort should never be surrendered to the renegade. Girty renewed hisproposition, but before he could finish his harangue, a thoughtless youthfired at the speaker and brought the conference to an abrupt termination. Girty disappeared, and in about fifteen minutes, the Indians opened aheavy fire upon the fort, and continued it without much intermission forthe space of six hours. The fire of the little garrison, however, was muchmore destructive than that of the assailants. About one o'clock, theIndians ceased firing and fell back against the base of the hill. 

[Illustration: THE ALARM AT FORT HENRY. ]

The colonel resolved to take advantage of the intermission to send for akeg of powder, which was known to be in the house of Ebenezer Zane, aboutsixty yards from the fort. Several young men promptly volunteered for thisdangerous service; but Shepherd could only spare one, and the young mencould not determine who that should be. At this critical moment, a younglady, sister of Ebenezer Zane, came forward, and asked that she might bepermitted to execute the service; and so earnestly did she argue for theproposition, that permission was reluctantly granted. The gate was opened, and the heroic girl passed out. The opening of the gate arrested theattention of several Indians who were straggling through the village, butthey permitted Miss Zane to pass without molestation. When she reappearedwith the powder in her arms, the Indians, suspecting the character of herburden, fired a volley at her, but she reached the fort in safety. Let thename of Elizabeth Zane be remembered among the heroic of her sex. 

About half-past two o'clock, the savages again advanced and renewed theirfire. An impetuous attack was made upon the south side of the fort, butthe garrison poured upon the assailants a destructive fire from the twolower block-houses. At the same time, a party of eighteen or twentyIndians, armed with rails and billets of wood, rushed out of Zane's yardand made an attempt to force open the gate of the fort. Five or six of thenumber were shot down, and then the attempt was abandoned. The Indiansthen opened a fire upon the fort from all sides, except that next theriver, which afforded no shelter to besiegers. On the north and east thebattle raged fiercely. As night came on the fire of the enemy slackened. Soon after dark, a party of savages advanced within sixty yards of thefort, bringing a hollow maple log which they had loaded to the muzzle andintended to use it as a cannon. The match was applied and the wooden piecebursted, killing or wounding several of those who stood near it. Thedisappointed party then dispersed. 

Late in the evening, Francis Duke, son-in-law of Colonel Shepherd, arriving from the Forks of Wheeling, was shot down before he could reachthe fort. About four o'clock next morning, Colonel Swearingen, withfourteen men, arrived from Cross Creek, and was fortunate enough to fighthis way into the fort without losing a single man. 

This reinforcement was cheering to the wearied garrison. More relief wasat hand. About daybreak, Major Samuel M'Culloch, with forty mounted menfrom Short Creek, arrived. The gate was thrown open, and the men, thoughclosely beset by the enemy, entered the fort. But Major M'Culloch was notso fortunate. The Indians crowded round and separated him from the party. After several ineffectual attempts to force his way to the gate, he turnedand galloped off in the direction of Wheeling Hill. 

[Illustration: DARING FEAT OF ELIZABETH ZANE. ]

When he was hemmed in by the Indians before the fort, they might havetaken his life without difficulty, but they had weighty reasons fordesiring to take him alive. From the very commencement of the war, hisreputation as an Indian hunter was as great as that of any white man onthe north-western border. He had participated in so many rencontres thatalmost every warrior possessed a knowledge of his person. Among theIndians his name was a word of terror; they cherished against him feelingsof the most phrenzied hatred, and there was not a Mingo or Wyandotte chiefbefore Fort Henry who would not have given the lives of twenty of hiswarriors to secure to himself the living body of Major M'Culloch. When, therefore, the man whom they had long marked out as the first object oftheir vengeance, appeared in their midst, they made almost superhumanefforts to acquire possession of his person. The fleetness of M'Culloch'swell-trained steed was scarcely greater than that of his enemies, who, with flying strides, moved on in pursuit. At length the hunter reached thetop of the hill, and, turning to the left, darted along the ridge with theintention of making the best of his way to Shor' creek. A ride of a fewhundred yards in that direction brought him suddenly in contact with aparty of Indians who were returning to their camp from a maraudingexcursion to Mason's Bottom, on the eastern side of the hill. This partybeing too formidable in numbers to encounter single-handed, the majorturned his horse about and rode over his own track, in the hope ofdiscovering some other avenue to escape. A few paces only of hiscountermarch had been made, when he found himself confronted by hisoriginal pursuers, who had, by this time, gained the top of the ridge, anda third party was discovered pressing up the hill directly on his right. He was now completely hemmed in on three sides, and the fourth was almosta perpendicular precipice of one hundred and fifty feet descent, withWheeling creek at its base. The imminence of his danger allowed him butlittle time to reflect upon his situation. In an instant he decided uponhis course. Supporting his rifle in his left hand and carefully adjustinghis reins with the other, he urged his horse to the brink of the bluff, and then made the leap which decided his fate. In the next moment thenoble steed, still bearing his intrepid rider in safety, was at the footof the precipice. M'Culloch immediately dashed across the creek, and wassoon beyond reach of the Indians. 

After the escape of the major, the Indians concentrated at the foot of thehill, and soon after set fire to all the houses and fences outside of thefort, and killed about three hundred cattle. They then raised the siegeand retired. 

The whole loss sustained by the whites during this remarkable siege, wastwenty-six men killed and four or five wounded. The loss of the enemy wasfrom sixty to one hundred men. As they removed their dead, exactinformation on the subject could not be obtained. 

The gallant Colonel Shepherd deserved the thanks of the frontier settlersfor his conduct on this occasion, and Governor Henry appointed him countylieutenant as a token of his esteem. A number of females, who were in thefort, undismayed by the dreadful strife, employed themselves in runningbullets and performing various little services; and thus excited muchenthusiasm among the men. Perhaps, a more heroic band was never gatheredtogether in garrison than that which defended Fort Henry, and it would beunjust to mention any one as particularly distinguished. We have named thecommander only because of his position. 

[Illustration: TREMENDOUS LEAP OF MAJOR M'CULLOCH. ]

SIMON GIRTY. 

During the long warfare maintained between the pioneers of the west andthe Indians, the latter were greatly assisted by some renegade white men. Of these, Simon Girty was the most noted and influential. He led severalimportant expeditions against the settlements of Virginia and Kentucky, displayed much courage, energy, and conduct, and was the object of bitterhatred on the frontier. Recent investigations into the stirring events ofhis career have shown that however bad he might have been, much injusticehas been done his memory by border historians. 

Simon Girty was born and reared in Western Pennsylvania, near the Virginialine. His parents are said to have been very dissipated, and this, perhaps, had some influence in disgusting him with life in thesettlements. Becoming skilled in woodcraft, he served with young SimonKenton, as a scout upon the frontiers. He joined the Virginia army inDunmore's wars, and, it is said, showed considerable ambition to becomedistinguished as a soldier. He was disappointed, and so far from gainingpromotion, was, for a trifling offence, publicly disgraced, it is said, through the influence of Colonel Gibson. The proud spirit of Girty couldnot brook such a blow. With a burning thirst for revenge, he fled from thesettlements, and took refuge among the Wyandottes. 

The talents of the renegade were of the kind and of the degree to secureinfluence among the red men. He excelled the majority of them in counciland field, and neither forgave a foe, nor forgot a friend. He wassuccessful in many expeditions after plunder and scalps, and spared nonebecause they were of his own race. He was cruel as many of the bordererswere cruel. Becoming an Indian, he had an Indian's hatred of the whites. The borderers seldom showed a red man mercy, and they could not expect anybetter treatment in return. 

The exertions of Girty to save his friend, Simon Kenton, from a horribledeath, have been noticed in another place. That he did not make suchexertions more frequently on the side of humanity is scarcely a matter ofwonder--inasmuch as he could not have done so consistently with a dueregard to his own safety. After he had become a renegade, the bordererswould not permit a return; and as he was forced to reside among theIndians, he was right in securing their favor. Besides saving Kenton, heposted his brother, James Girty, upon the banks of the Ohio, to warnpassengers in boats not to be lured to the shore by the arts of theIndians, or of the white men in their service. This was a pure act ofhumanity. The conduct of Girty on another memorable occasion, the burningof Colonel William Crawford, was more suspicious. 

[Illustration: COLONEL CRAWFORD AND HIS FRIENDS, PRISONERS. ]

In the early part of the year 1782, the incursions of the Indians becameso harassing and destructive to the inhabitants of Western Pennsylvania, that an expedition against the Wyandotte towns was concerted, and thecommand given to Colonel Crawford. On the 22d of May, the army, consistingof four hundred and fifty men, commenced its march, and proceeded due westas far as the Moravian towns, where some of the volunteers deserted. Themain body, however, marched on, with unabated spirit. The Indians, discovering the advance of the invaders gathered a considerable force, andtook up a strong position, determined to fight. Crawford moved forward inorder of battle, and on the afternoon of the 6th of June, encountered theenemy. The conflict continued fiercely until night, when the Indians drewoff, and Crawford's men slept on the field. In the morning, the battle wasrenewed, but at a greater distance, and, during the day, neither partysuffered much. The delay, however, was fatal to Crawford; for the Indiansreceived large reinforcements. As soon as it was dark, a council of warwas held, and it was resolved to retreat as rapidly as possible. By nineo'clock, all the necessary arrangements had been made, and the retreatbegan in good order. After an advance of about a hundred yards, a firingwas heard in the rear, and the troops, seized with a panic, broke and fledin confusion, each man trying to save himself. The Indians came on rapidlyin pursuit and plied the tomahawk and scalping-knife without mercy. Colonel Crawford and Dr. Knight were captured, at a distance from the mainbody--which was soon dispersed in every direction. 

On the morning of the 10th of June, Crawford, Knight, and nine otherprisoners, were conducted to the old town of Sandusky. The main body ofthe Indians halted within eight miles of the village; but as ColonelCrawford expressed great anxiety to speak with Simon Girty, who was thenat Sandusky, he was permitted to go under the care of the Indians. On themorning of the 11th of June, the colonel was brought back from Sandusky onpurpose to march into town with the other prisoners. To Knight's inquiryas to whether he had seen Girty, he replied in the affirmative, and added, that the renegade had promised to use his influence for the safety of theprisoners, though as the Indians were much exasperated by the recentoutrages of the whites at Guadenhutten upon the unresisting Moravian redmen, he was fearful that all pleading would be in vain. 

Soon afterwards, Captain Pipe, the great chief of the Delawares, appeared. This distinguished warrior had a prepossessing appearance and blandmanners, and his language to the prisoners was kind. His purposes, however, were bloody and revengeful. With his own hands he painted everyprisoner black! As they were conducted towards the town, the captivesobserved the bodies of four of their friends, tomahawked and scalped. Thiswas regarded as a sad presage. In a short time, they overtook the fiveprisoners who remained alive. They were seated on the ground, andsurrounded by a crowd of Indian squaws and boys, who taunted and menacedthem. Crawford and Knight were compelled to sit down apart from the rest, and immediately afterwards the doctor was given to a Shawnee warrior, tobe conducted to their town. The boys and squaws then fell upon the otherprisoners, and tomahawked them in a moment. Crawford was then driventowards the village, Girty accompanying the party on horseback. 

Presently, a large fire was seen, around which were more than thirtywarriors, and about double that number of boys and squaws. As soon as thecolonel arrived, he was stripped naked, and compelled to sit on theground. The squaws and boys then fell upon him, and beat him severely withtheir fists and sticks. In a few minutes, a large stake was fixed in theground, and piles of hickory poles were spread around it. 

Colonel Crawford's hands were then tied behind his back; a strong rope wasproduced, one end of which was fastened to the ligature between hiswrists, and the other tied to the bottom of the stake. The rope was longenough to permit him to walk round the stake several times and thenreturn. Fire was then applied to the hickory poles, which lay in piles atthe distance of six or seven yards from the stake. 

The colonel observing these terrible preparations, called to Girty, whosat on horseback, at the distance of a few yards from the fire, and askedif the Indians were going to burn him. Girty replied in the affirmative. The colonel heard the intelligence with firmness, merely observing that hewould bear it with fortitude. When the hickory poles had been burntasunder in the middle, Captain Pipe arose and addressed the crowd, in atone of great energy, and with animated gestures, pointing frequently tothe colonel, who regarded him with an appearance of unruffled composure. As soon as he had ended, a loud whoop burst from the assembled throng, andthey all rushed at once upon the unfortunate Crawford. For severalseconds, the crowd was so great around him, that Knight could not see whatthey were doing; but in a short time, they had dispersed sufficiently togive him a view of the colonel. 

His ears had been cut off, and the blood was streaming down each side ofhis face. A terrible scene of torture now commenced. The warriors shotcharges of powder into his naked body, commencing with the calves of hislegs, and continuing to his neck. The boys snatched the burning hickorypoles 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 byothers, with burning poles, red hot irons, and rifles loaded with powderonly; so that in a few minutes nearly one hundred charges of powder hadbeen shot into his body, which had become black and blistered in adreadful manner. The squaws would take up a quantity of coals and hotashes, and throw them upon his body, so that in a few minutes he hadnothing but fire to walk upon. 

[Illustration: CAPTAIN PIPE. ]

In the extremity of his agony, the unhappy colonel called aloud uponGirty, in tones which rang through Knight's brain with maddening effect:"Girty! Girty!! shoot me through the heart!! Quick! quick!! Do not refuseme!!"

"Don't you see I have no gun, colonel!!" replied the renegade, burstinginto a loud laugh, and then turning to an Indian beside him, he utteredsome brutal jests upon the naked and miserable appearance of the prisoner. While this awful scene was being acted, Girty rode up to the spot whereDr. Knight stood, and told him that he had now had a foretaste of what wasin reserve for him at the Shawnee towns. He swore that he need not expectto escape death, but should suffer it in all the extremity of torture. 

Knight, whose mind was deeply agitated at the sight of the fearful scenebefore him, took no notice of Girty, but preserved an impenetrablesilence. Girty, after contemplating the colonel's sufferings for a fewmoments, turned again to Knight, and indulged in a bitter invectiveagainst a certain Colonel Gibson, from whom, he said, he had received deepinjury; and dwelt upon the delight with which he would see him undergosuch tortures as those which Crawford was then suffering. He observed, ina taunting tone, that most of the prisoners had said, that the whitepeople would not injure him, if the chance of war was to throw him intotheir power; but that for his own part, he should be loath to try theexperiment. "I think, (added he with a laugh, ) that they would roast mealive, with more pleasure than those red fellows are now broiling thecolonel! What is your opinion, doctor? Do you think they would be glad tosee me?" Still Knight made no answer, and in a few minutes Girty rejoinedthe Indians. 

The terrible scene had now lasted more than two hours, and Crawford hadbecome much exhausted. He walked slowly around the stake, spoke in a lowtone, and earnestly besought God to look with compassion upon him, andpardon his sins. His nerves had lost much of their sensibility, and he nolonger shrunk from the firebrands with which they incessantly touched him. At length he sunk in a fainting fit upon his face, and lay motionless. Instantly an Indian sprung upon his back, knelt lightly upon one knee, made a circular incision with his knife upon the crown of his head, andclapping the knife between his teeth, tore the scalp off with both hands. Scarcely had this been done, when a withered hag approached with a boardfull of burning embers, and poured them upon the crown of his head, nowlaid bare to the bone. The colonel groaned deeply, arose, and again walkedslowly 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, hewas released by death from the hands of his tormentors. [B]

Whether Girty really took pleasure in the torture of Colonel Crawford, orwas forced by circumstances to seem to enjoy it is a question whichhistorians have generally been in too much haste to determine. It is wellknown that at the time of Crawford's expedition the Indians were very muchexasperated by the cold-blooded slaughter of the Moravian red men atGuadenhutten--an atrocity without a parallel in border warfare, and tohave seemed merciful to the whites for a single moment would have beenfatal to Girty. Indeed, it is said, that, when he spoke of ransoming thecolonel, Captain Pipe threatened him with death at the stake. Let justicebe rendered even to the worst of criminals. 

Dr. Knight, made bold or desperate by the torture he had witnessed, effected his escape from the Shawnee warrior to whose care he wascommitted, and after much suffering, reached the settlements. From him thegreater portion of the account of Crawford's death is derived, andcorrected by the statements of Indians present on the occasion. SimonGirty never forsook the Indians among whom he had made his home; but hisinfluence gradually diminished. Some accounts say that he perished in thebattle of the Thames; while others assert that he lived to extreme old agein Canada, where his descendants are now highly respected citizens. 

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 [B] M'Clurg. 

JOSHUA FLEEHART. 

Extraordinary strength and activity, with the most daring courage and athorough knowledge of life in the woods, won for Joshua Fleehart a highreputation among the first settler's of Western Virginia and Ohio. Whenthe Ohio Company founded its settlement at Marietta, in April, 1778, Fleehart was employed as a scout and a hunter. In this service he had nosuperior north of the Ohio. At periods of the greatest danger, when theIndians were known to be much incensed against the whites, he would startfrom the settlement with no companion but his dog, and ranging withinabout twenty miles of an Indian town, would build his cabin and trap andhunt during nearly the whole season. On one occasion this recklesscontempt of danger almost cost the hunter his life. 

[Illustration: JOSHUA FLEEHART. ]

Having became tired of the sameness of garrison life, and panting for thatfreedom among the woods and hills to which he had always been accustomed, late in the fall of 1795, he took his canoe, rifle, traps, and blanket, with no one to accompany him, leaving even his faithful dog in thegarrison with his family. As he was going into a dangerous neighborhood, he was fearful lest the voice of his dog might betray him. With a daringand intrepidity which few men possess, he pushed his canoe up the Sciotariver a distance of fifteen or twenty miles, into the Indian country, amidst their best hunting-grounds for the bear and the beaver, where nowhite man had dared to venture. These two were the main object of hispursuit, and the hills of Brush creek were said to abound in bear, and thesmall streams that fell into the Sciota were well suited to the haunts ofthe beaver. 

The spot chosen for his winter's residence was within twenty-five orthirty miles of the Indian town of Chillicothe, but as they seldom go farto hunt in the winter, he had little to fear from their interruption. Forten or twelve weeks he trapped and hunted in this solitary regionunmolested; luxuriating on the roasted tails of the beaver, and drinkingthe oil of the bear, an article of diet which is considered by thechildren of the forest as giving health to the body, with strength andactivity to the limbs. His success had equalled his most sanguineexpectations, and the winter passed away so quietly and so pleasantly, that he was hardly aware of its progress. About the middle of February, hebegan to make up the peltry he had captured into packages, and to load hiscanoe with the proceeds of his winter's hunt, which for safety had beensecreted in the willows, a few miles below the little bark hut in which hehad lived. The day before that which he had fixed on for his departure, ashe was returning to his camp, just at evening, Fleehart's acute ear caughtthe report of a rifle in the direction of the Indian towns, but at soremote a distance, that none but a backwoodsman could have distinguishedthe sound. This hastened his preparations for decamping. Nevertheless heslept quietly, but rose the following morning before the dawn; cooked andate his last meal in the little hut to which he had become quiteattached. 

[Illustration: FLEEHART SHOOTING THE INDIAN. ]

The sun had just risen, while he was sitting on the trunk of a fallentree, examining the priming and lock of his gun, casually casting a lookup the river bank, he saw an Indian slowly approaching with his eyesintently fixed on the ground, carefully inspecting the track of hismoccasins, left in the soft earth as he returned to his hut the eveningbefore. He instantly cocked his gun, stepped behind a tree, and waitedtill the Indian came within the sure range of his shot. He then fired andthe Indian fell. Rushing from the cover on his prostrate foe, he was aboutto apply the scalping knife; but seeing the shining silver broaches, andbroad bands on his arms, he fell to cutting them loose, and tucking theminto the bosom of his hunting shirt. While busily occupied in securing thespoils, the sharp crack of a rifle and the passage of the ball through thebullet pouch at his side, caused him to look up, when he saw three Indianswithin a hundred yards of him. They being too numerous for him toencounter, he seized his rifle and took to flight. The other two, as heran, fired at him without effect. The chase was continued for severalmiles by two of the Indians, who were the swiftest runners. He oftenstopped and "treed, " hoping to get a shot and kill or disable one of them, and then overcome the other at his leisure. His pursuers also "treed, " andby flanking to the right and left, forced him to uncover or stand thechance of a shot. 

He finally concluded to leave the level grounds, on which the contest hadthus far been held, and take to the high hills which lie back of thebottoms. His strong, muscular limbs here gave him the advantage, as hecould ascend the steep hill sides more rapidly than his pursuers. TheIndians, seeing they could not overtake him, as a last effort stopped andfired. One of the balls cut away the handle of his hunting-knife, jerkingit so violently against his side, that for a moment he thought he waswounded. He immediately returned the fire, and, with a yell of vexation, they gave up the chase. 

Fleehart made a circuit among the hills, and just at dark came in to theriver, near where the canoe lay hid. Springing lightly on board, hepaddled down stream. Being greatly fatigued with the efforts of the day, he lay down in the canoe, and when he awoke in the morning the boat wasjust entering the Ohio river. Crossing over to the southern shore, he, ina few days, pushed his canoe up to Farmer's Castle, without furtheradventure, where he showed the rich packages of peltry, as the proceeds ofhis winter's hunt, and displayed the brilliant silver ornaments, astrophies of his victory, to the envy and admiration of his less venturouscompanions. [C]

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 [C] Hildreth's Pioneer History. 

[Illustration: A MOUNTED RANGER. ]

INDIAN FIGHT ON THE LITTLE MUSKINGUM. 

In the latter part of September, 1789, an alarm being given that Indianshad been seen in the Campus Martius, on the Ohio, a party consisting offive or six rangers, ten volunteer citizens, and twelve regular soldierswas collected for pursuit. 

The men went up in canoes to the mouth of Duck creek, where they lefttheir water craft. The more experienced rangers soon fell upon the trail, which they traced across the wide bottoms on to the Little Muskingum. At apoint about half a mile below where Conner's mill now stands, the Indiansforded the creek. In a hollow, between the hills, about a mile east of thecreek, they discovered the smoke of their camp fire. The rangers nowdivided the volunteers into two flanking parties, with one of the spies atthe head of each, and three of their number to act in front. By the timethe flankers had come in range of the camp, the Indians discovered theirpursuers, by the noise of the soldiers who lagged behind, and were not socautious in their movement. They instantly fled up the run on which theywere encamped. Two of their number leaving the main body, ascended thepoint of a hill, with a ravine on the right and left of it. 

[Illustration: AN INDIAN BRAVE. ]

The rangers now began to fire, while the Indians, each one taking histree, returned the shot. One of the two Indians on the spur of the ridgewas wounded through the hips, by one of the spies on the right, who pushedon manfully to gain the flanks of the enemy. The men in front came on moreslowly, and as they began to ascend the point of the ridge, Ned Henderson, who was posted on high ground, cried out "Kerr! Kerr! there is an Indianbehind that white oak, and he will kill some of you. " Kerr instantlysprung behind a large tree, and Peter Anderson, who was near him, behind ahickory, too small to cover more than half his body, while John Wiserjumped down into the ravine. At that instant the Indian fired at Anderson, and as John looked over the edge of the bank to learn the effect of theshot, he saw Peter wiping the dust of the hickory bark out of his eyes. The ball grazed the tree, just opposite his nose, and glancing off did himno serious harm, but filling his eyes with the dust, and cutting his nosewith the splinters. At the same time Henderson, with others, fired at theIndian, and he fell with several balls through his body. The brave fellowwho was killed lost his life in a noble effort to aid his friend, who hadbeen wounded through the hips, and could not spring up on to the littlebench, or break in the ridge, where he was standing. 

While occupied in this labor of love, the rangers on his flanks had so faradvanced, that the shelter of the friendly tree could no longer secure himfrom their shots, as it had done while his enemies were more in front ofhim. The wounded Indian escaped for the present, although it is probablehe died soon after. The other five Indians, there being seven in theparty, seeing that their enemies outnumbered them so greatly, after firinga few times, made a circuit to the right and came up in the rear of thesoldiers, who were occupying themselves with the contents of the kettle ofhog meat and potatoes, which the Indians in their hurry had left boilingover the fire. The first notice they had of their danger was the report oftheir rifles. It made a huge uproar among the musketeers, who taking toflight, ran in great alarm for protection to the rangers. As it happenedthe Indians were too far off to do much harm, and no one was injured butone poor fellow, who was shot through the seat of his trowsers, justgrazing the skin. He tumbled into the brook by the side of the camp, screaming at the top of his voice, "I am kill'd, I am kill'd, " greatly tothe amusement of the rangers, who were soon at his side, and dragging himout of the water, searched in vain for the mortal wound. The dead Indianwas scalped, and his rifle and blanket taken as the legitimate plunder ofa conquered foe. The other five retreated out of reach of the rangers, after their feat of frightening the soldiers. They returned to thegarrison, well pleased that none of their men were killed, but much vexedwith the soldiers, whose indiscretion had prevented their destroying thewhole of the Indians, had they encircled them as first arranged by theleaders of the party. It served as a warning to the Indians not toapproach too near the Yankee garrison, as their rangers were brave men, whose eyes and ears were always open. [D]

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 [D] Hildreth's Pioneer History. 

[Illustration: THE DEFIANCE. ]

ESCAPE OF RETURN J. MEIGS. 

During the continuance of the Indian wars, from 1790 to 1795, it wascustomary for the inmates of all the garrisons to cultivate considerablefields of Indian corn and other vegetables near the walls of theirdefences. Although hazardous in the extreme, it was preferable tostarvation. For a part of that time no provisions could be obtained fromthe older settlements above, on the Monongahela and Ohio; sometimes from ascarcity amongst themselves, and always at great hazard from Indians, whowatched the river for the capture of boats. Another reason was the want ofmoney; many of the settlers having expended a large share of their fundsin the journey on, and for the purchase of lands, while others had not asingle dollar; so that necessity compelled them to plant their fields. Thewar having commenced so soon after their arrival, and at a time when notexpected, as a formal treaty was made with them at Marietta, in January, 1789, which by the way was only a piece of Indian diplomacy, they neverintended to abide by it longer than suited their convenience, and nostores being laid up for a siege, they were taken entirely unprepared. Sodesperate were their circumstances at one period, that serious thoughts ofabandoning the country were entertained by many of the leading men. Underthese circumstances R. J. Meigs, then a young lawyer, was forced to layaside the gown, and assume the use of both the sword and plough. It istrue that but little ploughing was done, as much of the corn was thenraised by planting the virgin soil with a hoe, amongst the stumps and logsof the clearing, after burning off the brush and light stuff. In this waylarge crops were invariably produced; so that nearly all the implementsneeded were the axe and the hoe. It so happened that Mr. Meigs, whoseresidence was in Campus Martius, the garrison on the east side of theMuskingum river, had planted a field of corn on the west side of thatstream in the vicinity of Fort Harmar. To reach this field the river wasto be crossed near his residence in a canoe, and the space between thelanding and his crop, a distance of about half a mile, to be passed by anobscure path through a thick wood. 

[Illustration: AN INDIAN WARRIOR. ]

Early in June, 1792, Mr. Meigs, having completed the labor of the day alittle before night, set out on his return home in company with JosephSymonds and a colored boy, which he had brought with him as a servant fromConnecticut. Immediately on leaving the field they entered the forestthrough which they had to pass before reaching the canoe. Symonds and theboy were unarmed; Mr. Meigs carried a small shot-gun, which he had takenwith him for the purpose of shooting a turkey, which at that day aboundedto an extent that would hardly be credited at this time. Flocks of severalhundred were not uncommon, and of a size and fatness that would excite theadmiration of an epicure of any period of the world, even of Apiciushimself. Meeting, however, with no turkies, he had discharged his gun at alarge snake which crossed his path. They had now arrived within a few rodsof the landing, when two Indians, who had been for some time watchingtheir movements and heard the discharge of the gun, sprang into the pathbehind them, fired and shot Symonds through the shoulder. He being anexcellent swimmer, rushed down the bank and into the Muskingum river;where, turning on his back, he was enabled to support himself on thesurface until he floated down near Fort Harmar, where he was taken up by acanoe. His wound, although a dangerous one, was healed, and he was alivetwenty years afterwards. The black boy followed Symonds into the river asfar as he could wade, but being no swimmer, was unable to get out of reachof the Indian who pursued them, and was seized and dragged on shore. TheIndian who had captured him was desirous of making him a prisoner, whichhe so obstinately refused, and made so much resistance that he finallytomahawked and scalped him near the edge of the water. To this alternativehe was in a manner compelled, rather than lose both prisoner and scalp, asthe rangers and men at Campus Martius had commenced firing at him from theopposite shore. The first shot was fired by a spirited black man in theservice of Commodore Abraham Whipple, who was employed near the river atthe time. 

From some accident, it appears that only one of the Indians was armed witha rifle, while the other had a tomahawk and knife. After Symonds was shot, Mr. Meigs immediately faced about in order to retreat to Fort Harmar. Thesavage armed with the rifle, had placed himself in the path, intending tocut off his escape, but had no time to reload before his intended victimclubbed his gun and rushed upon his antagonist. As he passed, Mr. Meigsaimed a blow at his head, which the Indian returned with his rifle. Fromthe rapidity of the movement, neither of them were seriously injured, although it staggered both considerably, yet neither fell to the ground. Instantly recovering from the shock, he pursued his course to the fortwith the Indian close at his heels. Mr. Meigs was in the vigor of earlymanhood, and had, by frequent practice in the race, become a very swiftrunner. His foeman was also very fleet, and amongst the most active oftheir warriors, as none but such were sent into the settlements onmarauding excursions. The race continued for sixty or eighty rods withlittle advantage on either side, when Mr. Meigs gradually increased hisdistance ahead, and leaping across a deep run that traversed the path, theIndian stopped on the brink, threw his tomahawk, and gave up the pursuitwith one of those fierce yells which rage and disappointment both servedto sharpen. It was distinctly heard at both the forts. About sixteen yearssince, an Indian tomahawk was ploughed up near this spot, and was mostprobably the one thrown at Mr. Meigs; as the rescue and pursuit from FortHarmar was so immediate upon hearing the alarm, that he had no time torecover it. With the scalp of the poor black boy, the Indians ascended theabrupt side of the hill which overlooked the garrison, and shoutingdefiance to their foes, escaped in the forest. 

The excitement was very great at the garrison, and taught the inmates auseful lesson; that of being better armed and more on their guard whenthey went out on agricultural pursuits. Had Mr. Meigs tried any otherexpedient than that of facing his enemy and rushing instantly upon him, hemust have lost his life, as the Indian was well aware of his gun beingunloaded. On his right was the river, on his left a very high hill; beyondhim the pathless forest, and between him and the fort his Indian foe. Tohis sudden and unexpected attack, to his dauntless and intrepid manner, and to his activity, he undoubtedly owed his life. 

ESTILL'S DEFEAT. 

One of the most remarkable pioneer fights, in the early history of thewest, was that waged by Captain James Estill, and seventeen of hisassociates, on the 22d of March, 1782, with a party of Wyandotte Indians, twenty-five in number. Seventy-one years almost have elapsed since; yetone of the actors in that sanguinary struggle, Rev. Joseph Proctor, ofEstill county, Kentucky, survived to the 2d of December, 1844, dying inthe full enjoyment of his faculties at the age of ninety. His wife, thepartner of his early privations and toils, and nearly as old as himself, deceased six months previously. 

On the 19th of March 1782, Indian rafts, without any one on them, wereseen floating down the Kentucky river, past Boonesborough. Intelligence ofthis fact was immediately dispatched by Colonel Logan to Captain Estill, at his station fifteen miles from Boonesborough, and near the present siteof Richmond, Kentucky, together with a force of fifteen men, who weredirected to march from Lincoln county to Estill's assistance, instructingCaptain Estill, if the Indians had not appeared there, to scour thecountry with a reconnoitring party, as it could not be known at what pointthe attack would be made. 

[Illustration: SLAUGHTER OF MISS INNES. ]

Estill lost not a moment in collecting a force to go in search of thesavages, not doubting, from his knowledge of the Indian character, thatthey designed an immediate blow at his or some of the neighboringstations. From his own and the nearest stations, he raised twenty-fivemen. Whilst Estill and his men were on this excursion, the Indianssuddenly appeared around his station at the dawn of day, on the 20th ofMarch, killed and scalped Miss Innes, and took Munk, a slave of CaptainEstill, captive. The Indians immediately and hastily retreated, inconsequence of a highly exaggerated account which Munk gave them of thestrength of the station, and number of fighting men in it. No sooner hadthe Indians commenced their retreat, than the women in the fort (the menbeing all absent except one on the sick list, ) dispatched two boys, thelate General Samuel South and Peter Hacket, to take the trail of CaptainEstill and his men, and, overtaking them, give information of what hadoccurred at the fort. The boys succeeded in coming up with Captain Estillearly on the morning of the 21st, between the mouths of Drowning creek andRed river. After a short search, Captain Estill's party struck the trailof the retreating Indians. It was resolved at once to make pursuit, and notime was lost in doing so. Five men of the party, however, who hadfamilies in the fort, feeling uneasy for their safety, and unwilling totrust their defence to the few who remained there, returned to the fort, leaving Captain Estill's party thirty-five in number. These pressed thepursuit of the retreating Indians, as rapidly as possible, but nightcoming on they encamped near the Little Mountain, at present the site ofMount Sterling. 

[Illustration: CAPTAIN ESTILL. ]

Early next morning they put forward, being obliged to leave ten of the menbehind, whose horses were too jaded to travel further. They had notproceeded far until they discovered by fresh tracks of the Indians, thatthey were not far distant. They then marched in four lines until about anhour before sunset, when they discovered six of the savages helpingthemselves to rations from the body of a buffalo which they had killed. The company was ordered to dismount. With the usual impetuosity ofKentuckians, some of the party fired without regarding orders, and theIndians fled. One of the party, a Mr. David Cook, who acted as ensign, exceedingly ardent and active, had proceeded in advance of the company, and seeing an Indian halt, raised his gun and fired. At the same momentanother Indian crossed on the opposite side, and they were both leveledwith the same shot. This occurring in view of the whole company, inspiredthem all with a high degree of confidence. In the meantime, the main bodyof Indians had heard the alarm and returned, and the two hostile partiesexactly matched in point of numbers, having twenty-five on each side, andwere now face to face. The ground was highly favorable to the Indian modeof warfare; but Captain Estill and his men, without a moment's hesitation, boldly and fearlessly commenced an attack upon them, and the latter asboldly and fearlessly (for they were picked warriors) engaged in thebloody combat. It is, however, disgraceful to relate, that, at the veryonset of the action, Lieutenant Miller, of Captain Estill's party, withsix men under his command, "ingloriously fled" from the field, therebyplacing in jeopardy the whole of their comrades, and causing the death ofmany brave soldiers. Hence, Estill's party numbered eighteen, and theWyandottes twenty-five. 

The flank becoming thus unprotected, Captain Estill directed Cook withthree men to occupy Miller's station, and repel the attack in that quarterto which this base act of cowardice exposed the whole party. The ensignwith his party were taking the position assigned, when one of themdiscovered an Indian and shot him, and the three retreated to a littleeminence whence they thought greater execution could be effected with lessdanger to themselves, but Cook continued to advance without noticing theabsence of his party until he had discharged his gun with effect, when heimmediately retreated, but after running some distance to a large tree, for the purpose of shelter in firing, he unfortunately got entangled inthe tops of fallen timber, and halting for a moment, received a ball whichstruck him just below the shoulder blade, and came out below his collarbone. In the meantime, on the main field of battle, at the distance offifty yards, the fight raged with great fury, lasting one hour andthree-quarters. On either side wounds and death were inflicted, neitherparty advancing or retreating. "Every man to his man, and every man to histree. " Captain Estill at this period was covered with blood from a woundreceived early in the action; nine of his brave companions lay dead uponthe field; and four others were so disabled by their wounds, as to beunable to continue the fight. Captain Estill's fighting men were nowreduced to four. Among this number was Joseph Proctor. 

Captain Estill, the brave leader of this Spartan band, was now broughtinto a personal conflict with a powerful and active Wyandotte warrior. Theconflict was for a time fierce and desperate, and keenly and anxiouslywatched by Proctor, with his finger on the trigger of his unerring rifle. Such, however, was the struggle between these fierce and powerfulwarriors, that Proctor could not shoot without greatly endangering thesafety of his captain. Estill had had his arm broken the preceding summerin an engagement with the Indians; and, in the conflict with the warrioron this occasion, that arm gave way, and in an instant his savage foeburied his knife in Captain Estill's breast; but in the very same moment, the brave Proctor sent a ball from his rifle to the Wyandotte's heart. Thesurvivors then drew off as by mutual consent. --Thus ended this memorablebattle. It wanted nothing but the circumstance of numbers to make it themost memorable in ancient or modern times. The loss of the Indians, inkilled and wounded, notwithstanding the disparity of numbers after theshameful retreat of Miller, was even greater than that of Captain Estill. 

It was afterwards ascertained by prisoners who were recaptured from theWyandotte, that seventeen of the Indians had been killed, and two severelywounded. This battle was fought on the same day, with the disastrousbattle of the Blue Licks, March 22d, 1782. 

There is a tradition derived from the Wyandotte towns, after the peace, that but one of the warriors engaged in this battle ever returned to hisnation. It is certain that the chief who led on the Wyandottes with somuch desperation, fell in the action. Throughout this bloody engagementthe coolness and bravery of Proctor were unsurpassed. But his conductafter the battle has always, with those acquainted with it, elicited thewarmest commendation. He brought off the field of battle, and most of theway to the station, a distance of forty miles, on his back, his badlywounded friend, the late brave Colonel William Irvine, so long and sofavorably known in Kentucky. 

A PIONEER MOTHER. 

The mothers of the west deserve as wide a fame as their fearless husbandsand brothers. In no situation were courage and resolution so much requiredin women as in the western wilderness, during the Indian wars, and eventhe celebrated heroines of European history seem to us ordinary incomparison. 

In the fall of 1779, Samuel Daviess, who resided in Bedford county, Virginia, moved with his family to Kentucky, and lived for a time, atWhitley's station, in Lincoln. After residing for some time in thestation, he removed for a time to a place called Gilmer's Lick, some sixor seven miles distant from said station, where he built a cabin, clearedsome land, which he put in corn next season, not apprehending any dangerfrom the Indians, although he was considered a frontier settler. But thisimaginary state of security did not last long; for one morning in August, 1782, having stepped a few paces from his door, he was suddenly surprisedby an Indian appearing between him and the door, with tomahawk uplifted, almost within striking distance. In this unexpected condition, and beingentirely unarmed, his first thought was, that by running round the house, he could enter the door in safety, but to his surprise, in attempting toeffect this object, as he approached the door he found the house full ofIndians. Being closely pursued by the Indian first mentioned, he made hisway into the cornfield, where he concealed himself with much difficulty, until the pursuing Indian had returned to the house. 

[Illustration: SCALPING. ]

Unable as he was to render any relief to his family, there being fiveIndians, he ran with the utmost speed to the station of his brother, adistance of five miles. As he approached the station, his undressedcondition told the tale of his distresses, before he was able to tell ithimself. Almost breathless, and with a faltering voice, he could only say, his wife and children were in the hands of the Indians. Scarcely was thecommunication made when he obtained a spare gun, and the five men in thestation, well armed, followed him to his residence. When they arrived atthe house, the Indians, as well as the family were found to be gone, andno evidence appeared that any of the family had been killed. A search wasmade to find the direction the Indians had taken; but owing to the drynessof the ground, and the adroit manner in which they had departed, nodiscovery could be made. In this study and perplexity, the party being allgood woodsmen, took that direction in pursuit of the Indians, which theythought it most probable they would take. After going a few miles, theirattention was arrested by the howling of a dog, which afterwards turnedout to be a house-dog that had followed the family, and which the Indianshad undertaken to kill, so as to avoid detection, which might happen fromhis occasionally barking. In attempting to kill the dog, he was onlywounded, which produced the howling that was heard. The noise thus heard, satisfied them that they were near the Indians, and enabled them to rushforward with the utmost impetuosity. Two of the Indians being in the rearas spies, discovering the approach of the party, ran forward to where theIndians were with the family--one of them knocked down the oldest boy, about eleven years old, and while in the act of scalping him, was firedat, but without effect. Mrs. Daviess, seeing the agitation and alarm ofthe Indians, saved herself and sucking child, by jumping into a sink hole. The Indians did not stand to make fight, but fled in the most precipitatemanner. In that way the family was rescued by nine o'clock in the morning, without the loss of a single life, and without any injury but that abovementioned. So soon as the boy had risen on his feet, the first words hespoke were, "Curse that Indian, he has got my scalp!" After the family hadbeen rescued, Mrs. Daviess gave the following account of how the Indianshad acted. 

[Illustration: GOING INTO CAPTIVITY. ]

A few minutes after her husband had opened the door and stepped out of thehouse, four Indians rushed in, whilst the fifth, as she afterwardslearned, was in pursuit of her husband. Herself and children were in bedwhen the Indians entered the house. One of the Indians immediately madesigns, by which she understood him to inquire how far it was to the nexthouse. With an unusual presence of mind, knowing how important it would beto make the distance as far as possible, she raised both her hands, firstcounting the fingers of one hand, then of the other--making a distance ofeight miles. The Indian then signed to her that she must rise; sheimmediately got up, and as soon as she could dress herself, commencedshowing the Indians one article of clothing after another, which pleasedthem very much; and in that way, delayed them at the house nearly twohours. In the meantime, the Indian who had been in pursuit of her husband, returned with his hands stained with poke berries, which he held up, andwith some violent gestures, and waving of his tomahawk, attempted toinduce the belief, that the stain on his hands was the blood of herhusband, and that he had killed him. She was enabled at once to discoverthe deception, and instead of producing any alarm on her part, she wassatisfied that her husband had escaped uninjured. 

After the savages had plundered the house of everything that they couldconveniently carry off with them, they started, taking Mrs. Daviess andher children--seven in number, as prisoners along with them. Some of thechildren were too young to travel as fast as the Indians wished, anddiscovering, as she believed, their intention to kill such of them ascould not conveniently travel, she made the two oldest boys carry them ontheir backs. The Indians, in starting from the house, were very careful toleave no signs of the direction which they had taken, not even permittingthe children to break a twig or weed, as they passed along. They had notgone far, before an Indian drew a knife and cut off a few inches of Mrs. Daviess' dress, so that she would not be interrupted in travelling. 

Mrs. Daviess was a woman of cool, deliberate courage, and accustomed tohandle the gun so that she could shoot well, as many of the women were inthe habit of doing in those days. She had contemplated, as a last resort, that if not rescued in the course of the day, when night came and theIndians had fallen asleep, she would rescue herself and children bykilling as many of the Indians as she could--thinking that in a nightattack as many of them as remained, would most probably run off. Such anattempt would now seem a species of madness; but to those who wereacquainted with Mrs. Daviess, little doubt was entertained, that if theattempt had been made, it would have proved successful. 

The boy who had been scalped, was greatly disfigured, as the hair neverafter grew upon that part of the head. He often wished for an opportunityto avenge himself upon the Indians for the injury he had received. Unfortunately for himself, ten years afterwards, the Indians came to theneighborhood of his father and stole a number of horses. 

Himself and a party of men went in pursuit of them, and after followingthem for some days, the Indians finding that they were likely to beovertaken, placed themselves in ambush, and when their pursuers came up, killed young Daviess and one other man; so that he ultimately fell intotheir hands when about twenty-one years old. 

The next year after the father died; his death being caused, as it wassupposed, by the extraordinary efforts he made to release his family fromthe Indians. 

We cannot close this account, without noticing an act of courage displayedby Mrs. Daviess, calculated to exhibit her character in its true point ofview. 

Kentucky, in its early days, like most new countries, was occasionallytroubled with men of abandoned character, who lived by stealing theproperty of others, and after committing their depredations, retired totheir hiding places, thereby eluding the operation of the law. One ofthese marauders, a man of desperate character, who had committed extensivethefts from Mr. Daviess, as well as from his neighbors, was pursued byDaviess and a party whose property he had taken, in order to bring him tojustice. While the party were in pursuit, the suspected individual, notknowing any one was pursuing him, came to the house of Daviess, armed withhis gun and tomahawk--no person being at home but Mrs. Daviess and herchildren. After he had stepped in the house, Mrs. Daviess asked him if hewould drink something--and having set a bottle of whiskey upon the table, requested him to help himself. The fellow not suspecting any danger, sethis gun up by the door, and while drinking, Mrs. Daviess picked up hisgun, and placing herself in the door, had the gun cocked and levelled uponhim by the time he turned around, and in a peremptory manner, ordered himto take a seat, or she would shoot him. Struck with terror and alarm, heasked what he had done. She told him, he had stolen her husband'sproperty, and that she intended to take care of him herself. In thatcondition, she held him a prisoner, until the party of men returned andtook him into their possession. 

[Illustration: THE SQUATTER'S WIFE. ]

THE SQUATTER'S WIFE AND DAUGHTER. 

On the Illinois river, near two hundred miles from its junction with theMississippi, there lived in 1812, an old pioneer, known in those days as"Old Parker the squatter. " His family consisted of a wife and threechildren, the oldest a boy of nineteen, a girl of seventeen, and theyoungest a boy of fourteen. At the time of which we write, Parker and hisoldest boy had gone in company with three Indians on a hunt, expecting tobe absent some five or six days. --The third day after the departure, oneof the Indians returned to Parker's house, came in and sat himself down bythe fire, lit his pipe and commenced smoking in silence. Mrs. Parkerthought nothing of this, as it was no uncommon thing for one or sometimesmore of a party of Indians to return abruptly from a hunt, at some signthey might consider ominous of bad luck, and in such instances were notvery communicative. But at last the Indian broke silence with "ugh, oldParker die. " This exclamation immediately drew Mrs. Parker's attention, who directly enquired of the Indian, what's the matter with Parker? TheIndian responded Parker sick, tree fell on him, you go, he die. Mrs. Parker then asked the Indian if Parker had sent for her, and where he was?The replies of the Indian somewhat aroused her suspicions. She, however, came to the conclusion to send her son with the Indian to see what was thematter. The boy and Indian started. That night passed, and the next daytoo, and neither the boy or Indian returned. This confirmed Mrs. Parker inher opinion that there was foul play on the part of the Indians. So sheand her daughter went to work and barricaded the door and windows in thebest way they could. The youngest boy's rifle was the only one left, henot having taken it with him when he went to hunt after his father. Theold lady took the rifle, the daughter the axe, and thus armed theydetermined to watch through the night; and defend themselves if necessary. They had not long to wait after night fall, for shortly after that someone commenced knocking at the door, crying out "Mother! mother!" but Mrs. Parker thought the voice was not exactly like that of her son--in order toascertain the fact, she said "Jake, where are the Indians?" The replywhich was "um gone, " satisfied her on that point. She then said, as ifspeaking to her son, "Put your ear to the latch-hole of the door I want totell you something before I open the door. " The head was placed at thelatch-hole, and the old lady fired through the same spot and killed anIndian. She stepped back from the door instantly, and it was well she didso, for quicker than I have penned the last two words two rifle bulletscame crashing through the door. The old lady then said to her daughter, "Thank God there are but two, I must have killed the one at the door--theymust be the three who went on the hunt with your father. If we can onlykill or cripple another of them, we will be safe; now we must both bestill after they fire again, and they will then break the door down, and Imay be able to shoot another one; but if I miss them when getting in, youmust use the axe. "--The daughter equally courageous with her motherassured her she would. Soon after this conversation two more rifle bulletscame crashing through the window. A death-like stillness ensued for aboutfive minutes, when two more balls in quick succession were fired throughthe door, then followed a tremendous punching with a log, the door gaveway, and with a fiendish yell an Indian was about to spring in, when theunerring rifle fired by the old lady stretched his lifeless body acrossthe thresh-hold of the door. The remaining, or more properly the survivingIndian fired at random and ran, doing no injury. "Now" said the oldheroine to her undaunted daughter "we must leave. " Accordingly with therifle and the axe, they went to the river, took the canoe, and without amouthful of provision except one wild duck and two black birds which themother shot, and which were eaten raw, did these two courageous hearts insix days arrive among the old French settlers at St. Louis. A party ofabout a dozen men crossed over into Illinois--and after an unsuccessfulsearch returned without finding either Parker or his boys. They were neverfound. There are yet some of the old settlers in the neighborhood ofPeoria who still point out the spot where "old Parker the squatter"lived. 

[Illustration: ATTACK ON CAPTAIN HUBBELL'S BOAT. ]

CAPTAIN WILLIAM HUBBELL. 

In the year 1791, when the Indians were very troublesome on the banks ofthe Ohio, Captain William Hubbell, Mr. Daniel Light, Mr. William Plascut, Mrs. Plascut and eight children embarked in a flat-bottomed boat toproceed down the Ohio. 

On their progress down the river, and soon after passing Pittsburgh, theysaw evident traces of Indians along the banks, and there is every reasonto believe that a boat which they overtook, and which, throughcarelessness, was suffered to run aground on an island, became a prey tothese merciless savages. Though Captain Hubbell and his party stopped sometime for it in a lower part of the river, it did not arrive, and has neverto their knowledge been heard of since. Before they reached the mouth ofthe Great Kenhawa, they had by several successive additions, increasedtheir number to twenty, consisting of nine men, three women, and eightchildren. The men, besides those mentioned above, were one John Stoner, anIrishman and a Dutchman, whose names are not recollected, Messrs. Ray andTucker, and a Mr. Kilpatrick, whose two daughters also were of the party. Information received at Galliopolis confirmed the expectation, whichappearance previously raised, of a serious conflict with a large body ofIndians; and as Captain Hubbell had been regularly appointed commander ofthe boat, every possible preparation was made for a formidable andsuccessful resistance of the anticipated attack. The nine men were dividedinto three watches for the night, which were alternately to continueawake, and be on the look out for two hours at a time. The arms on board, which consisted principally of old muskets, much out of order, werecollected, loaded, and put in the best possible condition for service. About sunset on that day, the 23d of March, 1792, the party overtook afleet of six boats descending the river in company, and intended tocontinue with them, but as their passengers seemed to be more disposed todancing than fighting, and as soon after dark, notwithstanding theremonstrances of Captain Hubbell, they commenced fiddling and dancinginstead of preparing their arms, and taking the necessary rest preparatoryto battle, it was wisely considered more hazardous to be in such company, than to be alone. It was therefore determined to proceed rapidly forwardby the aid of the oars, and leave those thoughtless fellow-travellersbehind. One of the boats, however, belonging to the fleet, commanded by aCaptain Greathouse, adopted the same plan, and for a while kept up withCaptain Hubbell, but all its crew at length falling asleep, that boat alsoceased to be propelled by the oars, and Captain Hubbell and his partyproceeded steadily forward alone. Early in the night a canoe was dimlyseen floating down the river, in which were probably Indiansreconnoitering, and other evident indications were observed of theneighborhood and hostile intentions of a formidable party of savages. 

It was now agreed, that should the attack, as was probable, be deferredtill morning, every man should be up before the dawn, in order to make asgreat a show as possible of numbers and of strength; and that, wheneverthe action should take place, the women and children should lie down onthe cabin floor, and be protected as well as they could by the trunks andother baggage, which might be placed around them. In this periloussituation they continued during the night, and the captain, who had notslept more than one hour since he left Pittsburgh, was too deeplyimpressed with the imminent danger which surrounded him to obtain any restat that time. 

[Illustration: A SIOUX CHIEF. ]

Just as daylight began to appear in the east, and before the men were upand at their posts, agreeably to arrangement, a voice at some distancebelow them, in a plaintive tone, repeatedly solicited them to come onshore, as there were some white persons who wished to obtain a passage intheir boat. This the captain very naturally and correctly concluded to bean Indian artifice, and its only effect was to rouse the men, and placeevery one on his guard. The voice of entreaty was soon changed into thelanguage of indignation and insult, and the sound of distant paddlesannounced the approach of the savage foe. At length three Indian canoeswere seen through the mist of the morning rapidly advancing. With theutmost coolness the captain and his companions prepared to receive them. The chairs, tables, and other incumbrances were thrown into the river, inorder to clear the deck for action. Every man took his position, and wasordered not to fire till the savages had approached so near, that, (to usethe words of Captain Hubbell, ) "the flash from the guns might singe theireye-brows;" and a special caution was given, that the men should firesuccessively, so that there might be no interval. On the arrival of thecanoes, they were found to contain about twenty-five or thirty Indianseach. As soon as they had approached within the reach of musket-shot, ageneral fire was given from one of them, which wounded Mr. Tucker throughthe hip so severely that his leg hung only by the flesh, and shot Mr. Light just below his ribs. The three canoes placed themselves at the bow, stern, and on the right side of the boat, so that they had an opportunityof raking in every direction. The fire now commenced from the boat, andhad 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 woundedmen, raised it to his shoulder, and was about to discharge it, when a ballcame and took away the lock; he coolly turned round, seized a brand offire from the kettle which served for a caboose, and applying it to thepan, discharged the piece with effect. A very regular and constant firewas now kept up on both sides. The captain was just in the act of raisinghis gun a third time, when a ball passed through his right arm, and for amoment disabled him. Scarcely had he recovered from the shock, andre-acquired the use of his hand, which had been suddenly drawn up by thewound, when he observed the Indians in one of the canoes just about toboard the boat in its bow, where the horses were placed belonging to theparty. So near had they approached, that some of them had actually seizedwith their hands the side of the boat. Severely wounded as he was, hecaught up a pair of horsemen's pistols and rushed forward to repel theattempt at boarding. On his approach the Indians fell back, and hedischarged a pistol with effect at the foremost man. After firing thesecond pistol, he found himself without arms, and was compelled toretreat; but stepping back on a pile of small wood which had been preparedfor burning in the kettle, the thought struck him, that it might be madeuse of in repelling the foe, and he continued for some time to strike themwith it so forcibly and actively, that they were unable to enter the boat, and at length he wounded one of them so severely that with a yell theysuddenly gave way. All the canoes then discontinued the contest, anddirected their course to Captain Greathouse's boat, which was in sight. Here a striking contrast was exhibited to the firmness and intrepiditywhich had been displayed. Instead of resisting the attack, the people onboard of this boat retired to the cabin in dismay. The Indians entered itwithout opposition, and rowed it to the shore, where they killed thecaptain and a lad of about fourteen years of age. The women they placed inthe centre of their canoes, and manning them with fresh hands, againpursued Captain Hubbell and party. A melancholy alternative now presenteditself to these brave but almost desponding men, either to fall a prey tothe savages themselves, or to run the risk of shooting the women, who hadbeen placed in the canoes in the hope of deriving protection from theirpresence. But "self preservation is the first law of nature, " and thecaptain very justly remarked, there would not be much humanity inpreserving their lives at such a sacrifice, merely that they might becomevictims 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 captain himself was severely wounded intwo places. The second attack, however, was resisted with almostincredible firmness and vigor. Whenever the Indians would rise to fire, their opponents would frequently give them the first shot, which in almostevery instance would prove fatal. Notwithstanding the disparity ofnumbers, and the exhausted condition of the defenders of the boat, theIndians at length appeared to despair of success, and the canoessuccessively retired to the shore. Just as the last one was departing, Captain Hubbell called to the Indian, who was standing in the stern, andon his turning round, discharged his piece at him. When the smoke, whichfor a moment obstructed the vision, was dissipated, he was seen lying onhis back, and appeared to be severely, perhaps mortally wounded. 

Unfortunately the boat now drifted near to the shore, where the Indianswere collected, and a large concourse, probably between four and fivehundred, were seen rushing down on the bank. Ray and Plascut, the onlymen remaining unhurt, were placed at the oars, and as the boat was notmore than twenty yards from the shore, it was deemed prudent for all tolie down in as safe a position as possible, and attempt to pushforward with the utmost practicable rapidity. While they continued inthis situation, nine balls were shot into one oar, and ten into theother, without wounding the rowers, who were hidden from view, andprotected by the side of the boat and the blankets in its stern. Duringthis dreadful exposure to the fire of the savages, which continued abouttwenty minutes, Mr. Kilpatrick observed a particular Indian, whom hethought a favorable mark for his rifle, and, notwithstanding the solemnwarning of Captain Hubbell, rose to shoot him, he immediately receiveda ball in his mouth, which passed out at the back part of his head, andwas almost at the same moment shot through the heart. He fell among thehorses that about the same time were killed, and presented to hisafflicted daughters and fellow-travellers, who were witnesses of theawful occurrence, a spectacle of horror which we need not furtherattempt to describe. 

The boat was now providentially and suddenly carried out into the middleof the stream, and taken by the current beyond the reach of the enemy'sballs. Our little band reduced as they were in numbers, wounded, afflicted, and almost exhausted by fatigue, were still unsubdued inspirit, and being assembled in all their strength, men, women, andchildren, with an appearance of triumph gave three hearty cheers, callingto 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 escapedunhurt. Tucker and Kilpatrick were killed on the spot, Stoner was mortallywounded, and died on his arrival at Limestone, and all the rest, exceptingRay and Plascut were severely wounded. The women and children were alluninjured, excepting a little son of Mr. Plascut, who, after the battlewas over, came to the captain, and with great coolness requested him totake a ball out of his head. On examination, it appeared that a bulletwhich had passed through the side of the boat, had penetrated the foreheadof 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 exhibiteda piece of bone at the point of his elbow, which had been shot off, andhung only by the skin. His mother exclaimed, "why did you not tell me ofthis?" "Because, " he coolly replied, "the captain directed us to be silentduring the action, and I thought you would be likely to make a noise if Itold you. "

The boat made the best of its way down the river, and reached Limestonethat night. From that time forth no boat was assailed by Indians on theOhio. 

[Illustration: CORNSTALK. ]

MURDER OF CORNSTALK AND HIS SON. 

Cornstalk, the commander of the Indians in the battle of Point Pleasant, was possessed of a noble heart as well as a genius for war andnegotiation. He was ever anxious to maintain an honorable place with thewhites and they returned his friendly inclination by putting him todeath. 

A Captain Arbuckle commanded the garrison of the fort, erected at PointPleasant, after the battle fought by General Lewis with the Indians atthat place, in October, 1774. In the succeeding year, when therevolutionary war had commenced, the agents of Great Britain exertedthemselves to excite the Indians to hostility against the United States. The mass of Shawnees entertained a strong animosity against the Americans. But, two of their chiefs, Cornstalk and Redhawk, not participating in thatanimosity visited the garrison at the Point, where Arbuckle continued tocommand. Cornstalk represented his unwillingness to take a part in thewar, on the British side: but stated, that his nation, except himself andhis tribe, were determined on war with us, and he supposed, that he andhis people would be compelled to go with the stream. On this intimation, Arbuckle resolved to detain the two chiefs, and a third Shawnees, who camewith them to the fort, as hostages, under the expectation of preventingthereby any hostile efforts of the nation. On the day before theseunfortunate Indians fell victims to the fury of the garrison, Elenipsico, the son of Cornstalk, repaired to Point Pleasant for the purpose ofvisiting his father, and on the next day, two men belonging to thegarrison, whose names were Hamilton and Gillmore, crossed the Kenhawa, intending to hunt in the woods beyond it. --On their return from hunting, some Indians who had come to view the position at the Point, concealedthemselves in the weeds near the mouth of the Kenhawa, and killed Gillmorewhile endeavoring to pass them. Colonel Stewart and Captain Arbuckle werestanding on the opposite bank of the river, at that time and weresurprised that a gun had been fired so near the fort, in violation oforders which had been issued inhibiting such an act. Hamilton ran down thebank, and cried out that Gillmore was killed. Captain Hall commanded thecompany to which Gillmore belonged. His men leaped into a canoe, andhastened to the relief of Hamilton. They brought the body of Gillmoreweltering in blood, and the head scalped, across the river. The canoe hadscarcely reached the shore, when Hall's men cried out "Let us kill theIndians in the fort. " Captain Hall placed himself in front of hissoldiers, and they ascended the river's bank, pale with rage, and carryingtheir loaded fire locks in their hands. Colonel Stewart and CaptainArbuckle exerted themselves in vain, to dissuade these men, exasperated tomadness by the spectacle of Gillmore's corpse, from the cruel deed whichthey contemplated. They cocked their guns, threatening those gentlemenwith 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 feltan affection for them, ran to their cabin and informed them that Hall'ssoldiers were advancing with the intention of taking their lives, becausethey believed that the Indians who killed Gillmore, had come withCornstalk's son the preceding day. This the young man solemnly denied, andaverred that he knew nothing of them. His father, perceiving thatElenipsico was in great agitation, encouraged him and advised him not tofear. "If the great Spirit, " said he, "has sent you here to be killed, youought to die like a man!" As the soldiers approached the door, Cornstalkrose to meet them, and received seven or eight balls which instantlyterminated his existence. His son was shot dead in the seat which heoccupied. The Red Hawk made an attempt to climb the chimney, but fell bythe 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. "

This atrocious deed so exasperated the Shawnees that they immediately tookup arms upon the side of the British, expressing their resolution to spareno American who should fall into their hands, and never to lay down armswhile there was the remotest chance of successful hostility. Many a familyin Virginia and Kentucky had reason to lament the slaughter of the nobleCornstalk and his son. 

THE MASSACRE OF CHICAGO. 

On the site of the present city of Chicago, a fort was erected in 1803. Feeling secure under this protection, several families built cabins andbegan to cultivate the ground in the vicinity. The large and powerfultribe of Pottawatomies occupied the neighboring country. When the war of1812 broke out, the fort at Chicago was garrisoned by about fifty men, under the command of Captain Heald, and as it was so remote from the otherAmerican posts, General Hull determined that it should be abandoned. Thefollowing account of the subsequent disastrous events is abridged fromBrown's History of Illinois. 

On the 7th of August, 1812, in the afternoon, Winnemeg, or Catfish, afriendly Indian of the Pottawatomie tribe, arrived at Chicago, and broughtdispatches from General Hull, containing the first, and, at that time, theonly intelligence of the declaration of war. General Hull's letterannounced the capture of Mackinaw, and directed Captain Heald "to evacuatethe fort at Chicago, if practicable, and, in that event, to distribute allthe United States property contained in the fort, and the United Statesfactory or agency, among the Indians in the neighborhood and repair toFort Wayne. " Winnemeg having delivered his dispatches to Captain Heald, and stated that he was acquainted with the purport of the communication hehad brought, urged upon Captain Heald the policy of remaining in the fort, being supplied, as they were, with ammunition and provisions for aconsiderable time. In case, however, Captain Heald thought proper toevacuate the place, he urged upon him the propriety of doing soimmediately, before the Pottawatomies (through whose country they mustpass, and who were as yet ignorant of the object of his mission) couldcollect a force sufficient to oppose them. This advice though given ingreat earnestness, was not sufficiently regarded by Captain Heald; whoobserved, that he should evacuate the fort, but having received orders todistribute the public property among the Indians, he did not feeljustified in leaving it until he had collected the Pottawatomies in itsvicinity, and made an equitable distribution among them. Winnemeg thensuggested the expediency of marching out and leaving every thing standing;"while the Indians, " said he, "are dividing the spoils, the troops will beable to retreat without molestation. " This advice was also unheeded, andan order for evacuating the fort was read next morning on parade. CaptainHeald, in issuing it, had neglected to consult his junior officers, as itwould have been natural for him to do in such an emergency, and as heprobably would have done had there not been some coolness between him andEnsign Ronan. 

[Illustration: CAPTAIN HEALD IN COUNCIL WITH THE POTTAWATAMIES. ]

The lieutenant and ensign, after the promulgation of this order, waited onCaptain Heald to learn his intentions; and being apprized; for the firsttime, of the course he intended to pursue, they remonstrated against it. Heald, however, deemed it advisable to assemble the Indians and distributethe public property among them, and ask of them an escort thither, withthe promise of a considerable sum of money to be paid on their safearrival; adding, that he had perfect confidence in the friendlyprofessions of the Indians, from whom, as well as from the soldiers, thecapture of Mackinaw had studiously been concealed. From this time forward, the junior officers stood aloof from their commander, and, considering hisproject as little short of madness, conversed as little upon the subjectas possible. Dissatisfaction, however, soon filled the camp; the soldiersbegan to murmur, and insubordination assumed a threatening aspect. 

The savages, in the mean time became more and more troublesome; enteredthe fort occasionally, in defiance of the sentinels, and even made theirway without ceremony into the quarters of its commanding officer. On oneoccasion an Indian, taking up a rifle fired it in the parlor of CaptainHeald; some were of opinion that this was intended as the signal for anattack. The old chiefs at this time passed back and forth among theassembled groups, apparently agitated; and the squaws seemed much excited, as though some terrible calamity was impending. No further manifestations, however, of ill-feeling were exhibited, and the day passed withoutbloodshed. So infatuated at this time was Captain Heald, that he supposedhe had wrought a favorable impression upon the savages, and that thelittle garrison could now march forth in safety. 

The Indians from the adjacent villages having at length arrived, a councilwas held on the 12th of August. It was attended, however, only by CaptainHeald on the part of the military; the other officers refused to attend, having previously learned that a massacre was intended. This fact wascommunicated to Captain Heald; he insisted, however, on their going, andthey resolutely persisted in their refusal. When Captain Heald left thefort, they repaired to the block-house, which overlooked the ground wherethe council was in session, and opening the portholes, pointed theircannon in its direction. This circumstance and their absence, it issupposed, saved the whites from massacre. 

[Illustration: BATTLE BETWEEN MOUNTED TROOPS AND THE INDIANS. ]

Captain Heald informed the Indians in council, that he would next daydistribute among them all the goods in the United States factory, togetherwith the ammunition and provisions with which the garrison was supplied;and desired of them an escort to Fort Wayne, promising them a reward ontheir arrival thither, in addition to the presents they were about toreceive. The savages assented, with professions of friendship, to all heproposed, and promised all he required. 

The council was no sooner dismissed, than several observing the tone offeeling which prevailed, and anticipating from it no good to the garrison, waited on Captain Heald in order to open his eyes, if possible, to theircondition. The impolicy of furnishing the Indians with arms and ammunitionto be used against themselves, struck Captain Heald with so much force, that he resolved, without consulting his officers, to destroy all notrequired for immediate use. 

On August 13th, the goods in the factory store were distributed among theIndians, who had collected near the fort; and in the evening theammunition, and also the liquor, belonging to the garrison, were carried, the former into the sally-port and thrown into the well, and the latterthrough the south gate, as silently as possible, to the river bank, wherethe heads of the barrels were knocked in, and their contents dischargedinto the stream. The Indians, however, suspecting the game, approached asnear as possible and witnessed the whole scene. The spare muskets werebroken up and thrown into the well, together with bags of shot, flints, and gun-screws, and other things; all, however, of but little value. 

On the 14th, the despondency of the garrison was for a while dispelled bythe arrival of Captain Wells and fifteen friendly Miamies. Having heard atFort Wayne of the error to evacuate Chicago, and knowing the hostileintentions of the Pottawatomies, he hastened thither in order to save, ifpossible, the little garrison from its doom. Having, on his arrival, learned that the ammunition had been destroyed, and the provisionsdistributed among the Indians, he saw there was no alternative. Preparations were therefore made for marching on the morrow. 

In the afternoon a second council was held with the Indians, at which theyexpressed their resentment at the destruction of the ammunition and liquorin the severest terms. Notwithstanding the precautions which had beenobserved, the knocking in of the heads of the whisky-barrels had beenheard by the Indians, and the river next morning tasted, as some of themexpressed it, "like strong grog. " Murmurs and threats were everywhereheard; and nothing, apparently, was wanting but an opportunity for somepublic manifestation of their resentment. 

The morning of the 15th dawned as usual; the sun rose with uncommonsplendor, and Lake Michigan "was a sheet of burnished gold. " Early in theday a message was received in the American camp from To-pee-na-bee, achief of the St. Joseph's band, informing them that mischief was brewingamong the Pottawatomies, who had promised them protection. 

[Illustration: TO-PEE-NA-BEE. ]

About nine o'clock, the troops left the fort with martial music, and inmilitary array. Captain Wells, at the head of the Miamies, led the van, his face blackened after the manner of the Indians. The garrison, withloaded arms, followed, and the wagons with the baggage, the women andchildren, the sick and the lame, closed the rear. The Pottawatomies, aboutfive hundred in number, who had promised to escort them in safety to FortWayne leaving a little space, afterward followed. The party in advancetook the beach road. They had no sooner arrived at the sand-hills whichseparate the prairie from the beach, about a mile and a half from thefort, when the Pottawatomies, instead of continuing in rear of theAmericans, left the beach and took to the prairie; the sand-hills ofcourse intervened, and presented a barrier between the Pottawatomies andthe American and Miami line of march. This divergence had scarcely beeneffected, when Captain Wells, who, with the Miamies was considerably inadvance, rode back and exclaimed, "They are about to attack us; forminstantly and charge upon them. " The word had scarcely been uttered, before a volley of musketry from behind the sand-hills was poured in uponthem. The troops were brought immediately into a line and charged upon thebank. One man, a veteran of seventy, fell as they ascended. The battle atonce became general. The Miamies fled in the outset; their chief rode upto the Pottawatomies, charged them with duplicity, and, brandishing histomahawk, said, "he would be the first to head a party of Americans, andreturn to punish them for their treachery. " He then turned his horse andgalloped off in pursuit of his companions, who were then scouring acrossthe prairie, and nothing was seen or heard of them more. 

The American troops behaved gallantly; though few in number, they soldtheir lives as dearly as possible. They felt, however, as if their timehad come, and sought to forget all that was dear on earth. 

While the battle was raging, the surgeon, Doctor Voorhes, who was badlywounded, and whose horse had been shot from under him, approaching Mrs. Helm, the wife of Lieutenant Helm, (who was in the action, participatingin all its vicissitudes, ) observed, "Do you think, " said he, "they willtake our lives? I am badly wounded, but I think not mortally. Perhaps wecan purchase safety by offering a large reward. Do you think, " continuedhe, "there is any chance?"

"Doctor Voorhes, " replied Mrs. Helm, "let us not waste the few momentswhich yet remain in idle or ill-founded hopes. Our fate is inevitable; wemust soon appear at the bar of God; let us make such preparations as areyet in our power. "

"Oh, " said he, "I cannot die; I am unfit to die! If I had a short time toprepare! Death! oh, how awful!"

At this moment, Ensign Ronan was fighting at a little distance with a talland portly Indian; the former, mortally wounded, was nearly down, andstruggling desperately upon one knee. Mrs. Helm, pointing her finger, anddirecting the attention of Doctor Voorhes thither, observed, "Look, " saidshe, "at that young man; he dies like a soldier. "

"Yes, " said Doctor Voorhes, "but he has no terrors of the future; he is anunbeliever. "

[Illustration: THE MASSACRE. ]

A young savage immediately raised his tomahawk to strike Mrs. Helm. Shesprang instantly aside, and the blow intended for her head fell upon hershoulder; she thereupon seized him around his neck, and while exerting allher efforts to get possession of his scalping-knife, was seized by anotherIndian and dragged forcibly from his grasp. The latter bore her, struggling and resisting, toward the lake. Notwithstanding, however, therapidity with which she was hurried along, she recognized, as she passed, the remains of the unfortunate surgeon stretched lifeless on the prairie. She was plunged immediately into the water and held there, notwithstandingher resistance, with a forcible hand. She shortly, however, perceived thatthe intention of her captor was not to drown her, as he held her in aposition to keep her head above the water. Thus reassured, she looked athim attentively, and, in spite of his disguise, recognized the "whiteman's friend. " It was Black Partridge. 

When the firing had ceased, her preserver bore her from the water andconducted her up the sand-bank. It was a beautiful day in August. Theheat, however, of the sun was oppressive; and, walking through the sand, exposed to its burning rays, in her drenched condition--weary, andexhausted by efforts beyond her strength--anxious beyond measure to learnthe fate of her friends, and alarmed for her own, her situation was one ofagony. 

The troops having fought with desperation till two-thirds of their numberwere slain, the remainder twenty-seven in all, borne down by anoverwhelming force, and exhausted by efforts hitherto unequalled, atlength surrendered. They stipulated, however, for their own safety and forthe safety of their remaining women and children. The wounded prisoners, however, in the hurry of the moment, were unfortunately omitted, or rathernot particularly mentioned and were therefore regarded by the Indians ashaving been excluded. 

One of the soldiers' wives, having frequently been told that prisonerstaken by the Indians were subjected to tortures worse than death, had fromthe first expressed a resolution never to be taken; and when a party ofsavages approached to make her their prisoner, she fought withdesperation; and, though assured of kind treatment and protection, refusedto surrender, and was literally cut in pieces and her mangled remains lefton the field. 

After the surrender, one of the baggage wagons, containing twelvechildren, was assailed by a single savage and the whole number weremassacred. All, without distinction of age or sex, fell at once beneathhis murderous tomahawk. 

Captain Wells, who had as yet escaped unharmed, saw from a distance thewhole of this murderous scene; and being apprized of the stipulation, andseeing it thus violated, exclaimed aloud, so as to be heard by thePottawatomies around him, whose prisoner he then was, "If this be yourgame, I will kill too!" and turning his horse's head, instantly startedfor the Pottawatomie camp, where the squaws and Indian children had beenleft ere the battle began. He had no sooner started, than several Indiansfollowed in his rear and discharged their rifles at him as he gallopedacross the prairie. He laid himself flat on the neck of his horse, and wasapparently out of their reach, when the ball of one of his pursuers tookeffect, killing his horse and wounding him severely. He was again aprisoner; as the savages came up, Winnemeg and Wa-ban-see, two of theirnumber, and both his friends, used all their endeavors in order to savehim; they had disengaged him already from his horse, and were supportinghim along, when Pee-so-tum, a Pottawatomie Indian, drawing hisscalping-knife, stabbed him in the back, and thus inflicted a mortalwound. After struggling for a moment he fell, and breathed his last in thearms of his friends, a victim for those he had sought to save--a sacrificeto his own rash intentions. 

[Illustration: WINNEMEG, OR THE CATFISH. ]

The battle having ended, and the prisoners being secured, the latter wereconducted to the Pottawatomie camp near the fort. Here the wife ofWau-bee-nee-mah, an Illinois chief, perceiving the exhausted condition ofMrs. Helm, took a kettle, and dipping up some water from the stream whichflowed sluggishly by them, threw into it some maple sugar, and, stirringit up with her hand, gave her to drink. "It was, " says Mrs. Helm, "themost delicious draught I had ever taken, and her kindness of manner, amidso much atrocity, touched my heart. " Her attention, however, was soondirected to other objects. The fort, after the troops had marched out, became a scene of plunder. The cattle were shot down as they ran at large, and lay dead, or were dying around her. It called up afresh a remark ofEnsign Ronan's, made before; "Such, " said he, "is to be our fate--to beshot down like brutes. "

The wounded prisoners, we have already remarked, were not included in thestipulation made on the battle-field, as the _Indians understood it_. Onreaching, therefore, the Pottawatomie camp, a scene followed which beggarsdescription. A wounded soldier, lying on the ground, was violentlyassaulted by an old squaw, infuriated by the loss of friends or excited bythe murderous scenes around her--who, seizing a pitchfork, attacked thewretched victim, now helpless, and exposed to the burning rays of the sun, his wounds already aggravated by its heat, and he writhing in torture. During the succeeding night, five other wounded prisoners weretomahawked. 

Those unwounded remained in the wigwams of their captors. The work ofplunder being now completed, the fort next day was set on fire. A fair andequal distribution of all the finery belonging to the garrison hadapparently been made, and shawls and ribands and feathers were scatteredabout the camp in great profusion. 

After suffering many hardships, Mrs. Helm, Mrs. Heald, and the survivingmale prisoners were ransomed and sent back to their friends. A few ofthem, however, were not set at liberty until after the battle of theThames. 

THE TWO FRIENDS. 

In August, 1786, Mr. Francis Downing, then a lad, was living in a fort, where subsequently some iron works were erected by Mr. Jacob Myers, whichare now known by the name of Slate Creek works. About the 16th, a youngman belonging to the fort, called upon Downing, and requested hisassistance in hunting for a horse which had strayed away on the precedingevening. Downing readily complied, and the two friends traversed the woodsin every direction, until at length, towards evening, they foundthemselves in a wild valley, at a distance of six or seven miles from thefort. Here Downing became alarmed and repeatedly assured his eldercompanion, (whose name was Yates, ) that he heard sticks cracking behindthem, and was confident that Indians were dogging them. Yates, being anexperienced hunter, and from habit grown indifferent to the dangers of thewoods, diverted himself freely at the expense of his young companion, often inquiring, at what price he rated his scalp, and offering to ensureit for sixpence. Downing, however, was not so easily satisfied. Heobserved, that in whatever direction they turned, the same ominous soundscontinued to haunt them, and as Yates still treated his fears with themost perfect indifference, he determined to take his measures upon his ownresponsibility. Gradually slackening his pace, he permitted Yates toadvance twenty or thirty steps in front of him, and immediately afterdescending a gentle hill, he suddenly sprung aside and hid himself in athick cluster of whortleberry bushes. Yates, who at that time wasperforming some woodland ditty to the full extent of his lungs, was toomuch pleased with his own voice, to attend either to Downing or theIndians, and was quickly out of sight. Scarcely had he disappeared, whenDowning, to his unspeakable terror, beheld two savages put aside thestalks of a canebrake, and looked out cautiously in the direction whichYates had taken. Fearful that they had seen him step aside, he determinedto fire upon them, and trust to his heels for safety, but so unsteady washis hand, that in raising his gun to his shoulder, she went off before hehad taken aim. He lost no time in following her example, and after havingrun fifty yards, he met Yates, who, alarmed at the report, was hastilyretracing his steps. It was not necessary to inquire 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 notoutstrip Downing, but ran by his side, although in so doing, he riskedboth 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 itthat the string does to the bow. The two paths were at no point distantfrom each other more than one hundred yards, so that Yates and Downingcould easily see the enemy gaining rapidly upon them. They reached thepoint of re-union first, however, and quickly came to a deep gully whichit was necessary to recross, or retrace their steps. Yates cleared itwithout difficulty, but Downing being, much exhausted, fell short, fallingwith his breast against the opposite brink, rebounded with violence, andfell at full length on the bottom. The Indians crossed the ditch a fewyards below him, and, eager for the capture of Yates, continued thepursuit, without appearing to notice Downing. The latter who at first hadgiven himself up for lost, quickly recovered his strength, and began towalk slowly along the ditch, fearing to leave it lest the enemy should seehim. As he advanced, however, the ditch became more shallow, until atlength it ceased to protect him at all. Looking around cautiously, he sawone of the Indians returning apparently in quest of him. Unfortunately, hehad neglected to reload his gun, while in the ditch, and as the Indianinstantly advanced upon him, he had no resource but flight. Throwing awayhis gun, which was now useless, he plied his legs manfully, in ascending along ridge which stretched before him, but the Indian gained upon him sorapidly, that he lost all hope of escape. Coming at length to a largepoplar which had been blown up by the roots, he ran along the body of thetree upon one side while the Indian followed it upon the other, doubtlessexpecting to intercept him at the root. It happened that a large she bearwas sucking her cubs in a bed which she had made at the root of the tree, and as the Indian reached that point, she instantly sprung upon him, and aprodigious uproar took place. The Indian yelled, and stabbed with hisknife, the bear growled and saluted him with one of her most endearing"hugs;"--while Downing, fervently wishing her success, ran off through thewoods, without waiting to see the event of the struggle. Downing reachedthe fort in safety, and found Yates reposing after a hot chase, havingeluded his pursuers, and gained the fort two hours before him. On the nextmorning, they collected a party and returned to the poplar tree, but notraces either of the Indian or bear were to be found. They both probablyescaped with their lives, although not without injury. 

[Illustration: DOWNING ALARMED AT THE NOISE OF THE INDIANS. ]

[Illustration: THE DESERTER ACTING AS A GUIDE. ]

DESERTION OF A YOUNG WHITE MAN, FROM A PARTY OF INDIANS. 

In the year 1787, the following incident occurred in Bourbon countyKentucky. One morning, about sun rise, a young man of wild and savageappearance, suddenly arose from a cluster of bushes in front of a cabin, and hailed the house in a barbarous dialect, which seemed neither exactlyIndian nor English, but a collection of shreds and patches from which thegraces of both were carefully excluded. His skin had evidently once beenwhite--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 twentyyears. He talked volubly, but uncouthly, placed his hand upon his breast, gestured vehemently, and seemed very earnestly bent upon communicatingsomething. He was invited to enter the cabin, and the neighbors quicklycollected around him. He appeared involuntarily to shrink from contactwith them--his eyes rolled rapidly around with a distrustful expressionfrom 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 severalpresent understood the Indian tongue, they at length gathered thefollowing circumstances as accurately as they could be translated, out ofa language which seemed to be an "omnium gatherum" of all that wasmongrel, uncouth and barbarous. He said that he had been taken by theIndians, when a child, but could neither recollect his name, nor thecountry of his birth. --That he had been adopted by an Indian warrior, whobrought him up with his other sons, without making the slightestdifference between them, and that under his father's roof, he had livedhappily until within the last month. A few weeks before that time, hisfather, accompanied by himself and a younger brother, had hunted for sometime upon the waters of the Miami, about forty miles from the spot whereCincinnati now stands, and after all their meat, skins, &c. , had beenproperly secured, the old man determined to gratify his children by takingthem upon a war expedition to Kentucky. They accordingly built a barkcanoe, in which they crossed the Ohio, near the mouth of Licking, andhaving buried it, so as to secure it from the action of the sun, theyadvanced into the country and encamped at the distance of fifteen milesfrom the river. Here their father was alarmed by hearing an owl cry in apeculiar tone, which he declared boded death or captivity to themselves, if they continued their expedition--and announced his intention ofreturning without delay to the river. Both of his sons vehemently opposedthis resolution, and at length prevailed upon the old man to disregard theowl's warning, and conduct them, as he had promised, against the frontiersof Kentucky. The party then composed themselves to sleep, but were quicklyawakened by the father, who had again been warned in a dream that deathawaited them in Kentucky, and again besought his children to release himfrom his promise and lose no time in returning home. Again they prevailedupon him to disregard the warning, and persevere in the march. Heconsented to gratify them, but declared he would not remain a momentlonger in the camp which they now occupied, and accordingly they left itimmediately, and marched on through the night, directing their coursetowards Bourbon county. In the evening they approached a house, that whichhe hailed and in which he was now speaking. Suddenly the desire ofrejoining his people occupied his mind so strongly as to exclude everyother idea, and seizing the first favorable opportunity, he had concealedhimself in the bushes, and neglected to reply to all the signals which hadbeen concerted for the purpose of collecting their party when scattered. This account appeared so extraordinary, and the young man's appearance wasso wild and suspicious, that many of the neighbors suspected him oftreachery, and thought that he should be arrested as a spy. Others opposedthis resolution and gave full credit to his narrative. In order to satisfythemselves, however, they insisted upon his immediately conducting them tothe spot where the canoe had been buried. To this the young man objectedmost vehemently, declaring that although he had deserted his father andbrother, yet he would not betray them. These feelings were too delicate tomeet with much sympathy from the rude borderers who surrounded him, and hewas given to understand that nothing short of conducting them to the pointof embarkation, would be accepted as an evidence of his sincerity. --Withobvious reluctance he at length complied. From twenty to thirty men werequickly assembled, mounted upon good horses, and under the guidance of thedeserter, they moved rapidly towards the mouth of Licking. On the road theyoung man informed them that he would first conduct them to the spot, where they had encamped when the scream of the owl alarmed his father, andwhere an iron kettle had been concealed in a hollow tree. He was probablyinduced to do this from the hope of delaying the pursuit so long as toafford his friends an opportunity of crossing the river in safety. But ifsuch was his intention, no measure could have been more unfortunate. 

[Illustration: THE SURPRISE. ]

The whites approached the encampment in deep silence, and quicklyperceived two Indians, an old man and a boy, seated by the fire and busilyengaged in cooking some venison. --The deserter became much agitated at thesight of them, and so earnestly implored his countrymen not to kill them, that it was agreed to surround the encampment, and endeavor to secure themas prisoners. This was accordingly attempted, but so desperate was theresistance of the Indians, and so determined were their efforts to escape, that the whites were compelled to fire upon them, and the old man fellmortally wounded, while the boy, by an incredible display of address andactivity, was enabled to escape. The deserter beheld his father fall, andthrowing himself from his horse, he ran up to the spot where the old manlay bleeding, but still sensible, and falling upon his body, besought hisforgiveness for being the unwilling cause of his death, and wept bitterly. His father evidently recognized him, and gave him his hand, but almostinstantly afterwards expired. The white men now called upon him to conductthem at a gallop to the spot where the canoe was buried, expecting toreach it before the Indian boy and intercept him. The deserter in vainimplored them to compassionate his feelings. He urged that he had alreadysufficiently demonstrated the truth of his former assertions, at theexpense of his father's life, and earnestly entreated them to permit hisyounger brother to escape. His companions, however, were inexorable. Nothing but the blood of the young Indian would satisfy them, and thedeserter was again compelled to act in the capacity of a guide. 

Within two hours they reached the designated spot. The canoe was stillthere, and no track could be seen upon the sand, so that it was evidentthat their victim had not yet arrived. Hastily dismounting, they tiedtheir horses and concealed themselves within close rifle shot of thecanoe. Within ten minutes after their arrival the Indian appeared insight, walking swiftly towards them. He went straight to the spot wherethe canoe had been buried, and was in the act of digging it up, when hereceived a dozen balls through his body, and leaping high into the airfell dead upon the sand. He was scalped and buried where he fell, withouthaving seen his brother, and probably without having known the treacheryby which he and his father had lost their lives. The deserter remained buta short time in Bourbon, and never regained his tranquillity of mind. Heshortly afterwards disappeared, but whether to seek his relations inVirginia or Pennsylvania, or whether disgusted by the ferocity of thewhites, he returned to the Indians, has never yet been known. He was neverheard of afterwards. 

[Illustration: MORGAN AND THE INDIAN. ]

MORGAN'S TRIUMPH. 

In 1779, a Mr. Morgan, of Prickett's Fort, West Virginia, was surprised inthe woods by two Indians, who immediately gave chase. Being old andsomewhat infirm, he faltered in the race, and was obliged to take refugebehind a tree; the Indians did the same, but one of them exposing hisbody, was shot by Morgan, and, after falling, stabbed himself. Morganagain fled; but his surviving antagonist gained rapidly upon him, and atlength raised his gun to fire. Morgan adroitly stepped aside, and the ballpassed him. Then each rushed to closer combat. 

Morgan, while striking with his gun, received the Indian's tomahawk, whichcut off a finger, and knocked the gun from his grasp. Being an expertwrestler, he closed, and threw his antagonist; but he was speedilyoverturned, when the Indian, uttering the customary yell of triumph, beganfeeling for his knife. Its hilt was entangled in a woman's apron, whichthe savage had tied round his waist; and this apparent trivialcircumstance saved the prostrate hunter. During the search, Morgan hadseized his antagonist's fingers with his teeth, a position in which heused all becoming exertions to keep them. Meanwhile he assisted in thesearch for the knife. The Indian at length seized it, but so far towardsthe blade, that Morgan caught hold of the upper portion of the handle, anddrew it through his adversary's hand, inflicting a deep wound. Both sprangerect, Morgan still holding on to the Indian's fingers, and having hisbody within his grasp. He had therefore all the advantage, and while hisfoe was struggling to disengage himself, he plunged the knife to the hiltin his body. The daring hunter returned to the fort in triumph. 

[Illustration: VIEW OF WYOMING. ]

[Illustration: COLONEL ZEBULON BUTLER. ]

MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 

The following account of the battle and massacre is taken from aninteresting history of Wyoming, written by Isaac Chapman, Esq. , late ofWilkesbarre. Judge Chapman lived upon the spot, and could hardly fail tohave collected ample materials, and to give a correct narrative of theevents which transpired there during the Revolutionary war. Theinhabitants had collected in Forty Fort--the principal fort in the valley. The number of men was three hundred and sixty-eight. 

On the morning of the 3d of July, 1778, the officers of the garrison ofForty Fort held a council to determine on the propriety of marching fromthe fort, and attacking the enemy wherever found. The debates in thiscouncil of war are said to have been conducted with much warmth andanimation. The ultimate determination was one on which depended the livesof the garrison and safety of the settlement. On one side it was contendedthat their enemies were daily increasing in numbers; that they wouldplunder the settlement of all kinds of property, and would accumulate themeans of carrying on the war, while they themselves would become weaker;that the harvest would soon be ripe, and would be gathered or destroyed bytheir enemies, and all their means of sustenance during the succeedingwinter would fail; that probably all their messengers were killed, and asthere had been more than sufficient time, and no assistance arrived, theywould probably receive none, and consequently now was the proper time tomake an attack. 

On the other side it was argued, that probably some or all the messengersmay have arrived at head-quarters, but that the absence of thecommander-in-chief may have produced delay; that one or two weeks more maybring the desired assistance, and that to attack the enemy, superior asthey were in number, out of the limits of their own fort, would producealmost certain destruction to the settlements and themselves, andcaptivity, and slavery, perhaps torture, to their wives and children. 

[Illustration: THE MASSACRE OF WYOMING. ]

While these debates were progressing, five men belonging to Wyoming, butwho at that time held commissions in the continental army, arrived at thefort; they had received information that a force from Niagara had marchedto destroy the settlements on the Susquehanna, and being unable to bringwith them any reinforcement, they resigned their appointments, andhastened immediately to the protection of their families. They had heardnothing of the messengers, neither could they give any certain informationas to the probability of relief. 

The prospect of receiving assistance became now extremely uncertain. Theadvocates for the attack prevailed in the council, and at dawn of day, onthe morning of the 3d of July, the garrison left the fort, and began theirmarch up the river, under the command of Colonel Zebulon Butler. Havingproceeded about two miles, the troops halted for the purpose of detachinga reconnoitering party, to ascertain the situation of the enemy. 

The scout found the enemy in possession of Fort Wintermoot, and occupyinghuts immediately around it, carousing in supposed security; but on theirreturn to the advancing column, they met two strolling Indians, by whomthey were fired upon, and upon whom they immediately returned the firewithout effect. The settlers hastened their march for the attack, but theIndians had given the alarm, and the advancing troops found the enemyalready formed in order of battle a small distance from their fort, withtheir right flank covered by a swamp, and their left resting upon the bankof a river. The settlers immediately displayed their column and formed incorresponding order, but as the enemy was much superior in numbers, theirline was much more extensive. Pine woods and bushes covered thebattle-ground, in consequence of which, the movements of the troops couldnot be so quickly discovered, nor so well ascertained. Colonel ZebulonButler had command of the right, and was opposed by Colonel John Butler atthe head of the British troops on the left, Colonel Nathan Denisoncommanded the left, opposed by Brant at the head of his Indians on theenemy's right. The battle commenced at about forty rods distant, andcontinued about fifteen minutes through the woods and brush without muchexecution. At this time, Brant with his Indians having penetrated theswamp, turned the left flank of the settler's line, and with a terriblewar-whoop and savage yell, made a desperate charge upon the troopscomposing that wing, which fell very fast, and were immediately cut topieces with the tomahawk. Colonel Denison having ascertained that thesavages were gaining the rear of the left, gave orders for that wing _tofall back_. At the same time, Colonel John Butler, finding that the lineof settlers did not extend so far towards the river as his own, doubledthat end of his line which was protected by a thick growth of brushwood, and having brought a party of his British regulars to act in column uponthat wing, threw Colonel Zebulon Butler's into some confusion. The ordersof Colonel Denison for his troops to fall back, having been understood bymany to mean a retreat, the troops began to retire in much disorder. Thesavages considered this a flight, and commencing a most hideous yell, rushed forward with their rifles and tomahawks, and cut the retiring lineto pieces. In this situation it was found impossible to rally and form thetroops, and the rout became general throughout the line. 

The settlers fled in every direction, and were instantly followed by thesavages, who killed or took prisoners whoever came within their reach. Some succeeded in reaching the river, and escaped by swimming across;others fled to the mountains, and the savages, too much occupied withplunder, gave up the pursuit. 

When the first intelligence was received in the village of Wilkesbarrethat the battle was lost, the women fled with their children to themountains on their way to the settlements on the Delaware, where many ofthem at length arrived after suffering extreme hardships. Many of the menwho escaped the battle, together with their women and children, who wereunable to travel on foot, took refuge in Wyoming fort, and on thefollowing day (July 4th, ) Butler and Brant, at the head of their combinedforces, appeared before the fort, and demanded its surrender. The garrisonbeing without any efficient means of defence, surrendered the fort onarticles of capitulation, by which the settlers, upon giving up theirfortifications, prisoners, and military stores, were to remain in thecountry unmolested, provided they did not again take up arms. 

In this battle about three hundred of the settlers were killed or missing, from a great part of whom no intelligence was ever afterward received. 

The conditions of the capitulation were entirely disregarded by theBritish and savage forces, and after the fort was delivered up, all kindsof barbarities were committed by them. The village of Wilkesbarre, consisting of twenty-three houses, was burnt; men and their wives wereseparated from each other, and carried into captivity: their property wasplundered, and the settlement laid waste. The remainder of the inhabitantswere driven from the valley, and compelled to proceed on foot sixty milesthrough the great swamp, almost without food or clothing. A numberperished in the journey, principally women and children; some died oftheir wounds; others wandered from the path in search of food, and werelost, and those who survived called the wilderness through which they hadpassed, "the shades of death!" a name which it has since retained. 

[Illustration: THE BLOCK-HOUSE. ]

HEROIC WOMEN OF THE WEST. 

The following incidents are taken from a letter addressed by CaptainNathaniel Hart, of Woodford county, Kentucky, to Governor Morehead:

DEAR SIR. --Connected with your address delivered at the celebration of thefirst settlement of Kentucky, at Boonesborough, the circumstancesattending the escape and defence of Mrs. Woods, about the year 1784-5, near the Crab Orchard, in Lincoln county, may not be without interest. Ihave a distinct recollection of them. Mr. Woods, her husband, was absentfrom home, and early in the morning, being a short distance from hercabin, she discovered several Indians advancing towards it. She reached itbefore all but one, who was so far ahead of the others, that before shecould close and fasten the door, he entered. Instantly he was seized by alame negro man of the family, and after a short scuffle, they bothfell--the negro underneath. But he held the Indian so fast, that he wasunable to use either his scalping knife or tomahawk, when he called uponhis young mistress to take the axe from under the bed, and dispatch him bya blow upon the head. She immediately attempted it: but the first attemptwas a failure She repeated the blow and killed him. The other Indians wereat the door endeavoring to force it open with their tomahawks. The negrorose, and proposed to Mrs. Woods to let in another, and they would soondispose of the whole of them in the same way. The cabin was but a shortdistance from a station, the occupants of which, having discovered theperilous situation of the family, fired on the Indians, and killedanother, when the remainder made their escape. 

[Illustration: MRS. DUREE OVER THE DEAD BODY OF HER HUSBAND. ]

This incident is not more extaordinary than one that happened, in thefall or winter of 1781-2, to some families belonging to our own fortat the White Oak Spring. My father settled this fort in 1779. It wassituated about a mile above Boonesborough and in the same bottom of theriver. It was composed principally of families from York county, Pennsylvania--orderly, respectable people, and the men good soldiers. Butthey were unaccustomed to Indian warfare, and the consequence was, that of some ten or twelve men, all were killed but two or three. Duringthis period, Peter Duree, the elder, the principal man of the connection, determined to settle a new fort between Estill's station and the mouth ofMuddy Creek, directly on the trace between the Cherokee and Shawnesetowns. Having erected a cabin, his son-in-law, John Bullock and hisfamily, and his son Peter Duree, his wife and two children, removed toit, taking a pair of hand mill stones with them. They remained for two orthree days shut up in their cabin, but their corn meal being exhausted, they were compelled to venture out to cut a hollow tree in order toadjust their hand mill. They were attacked by Indians--Bullock, afterrunning a short distance, fell. Duree reached the cabin, and threw himselfupon the bed. Mrs. Bullock ran to the door to ascertain the fate of herhusband--received a shot in the breast, and fell across the door sill. Mrs. Duree, not knowing whether her husband had been shot or hadfainted, caught her by the feet, pulled her into the house and barredthe door. She grasped a rifle and told her husband, she would help him tofight. He replied that he had been wounded and was dying. She thenpresented the gun through several port holes in quick succession--thencalmly sat by her husband and closed his eyes in death. You wouldconclude that the scene ought to end here--but after waiting severalhours, and seeing nothing more of the Indians, she sallied out indesperation to make her way to the White Oak Spring, with her infant inher arms, and a son, three or four years of age, following her. Afraid topursue the trace, she entered the woods, and after running till shewas nearly exhausted she came at length to the trace. She determinedto follow it at all hazards, and having advanced a few miles further, she met the elder Mr. Duree, with his wife, and youngest son, withtheir baggage, on their way to the new station. The melancholy tidingsinduced them, of course, to return. They led their horses into anadjoining canebrake, unloaded them, and regained the White Oak Springfort before daylight. 

It is impossible at this day to make a just impression of the sufferingsof the pioneers about the period spoken of. The White Oak Spring fort in1782, with perhaps one hundred souls in it, was reduced in August to threefighting white men--and I can say with truth, that for two or three weeks, my mother's family never unclothed themselves to sleep, nor were all ofthem, within the time, at their meals together, nor was any householdbusiness attempted. Food was prepared, and placed where those who chosecould eat. It was the period when Bryant's station was besieged and formany days before and after that gloomy event, we were in constantexpectation of being made prisoners. We made application to Colonel Loganfor a guard, and obtained one, but not until the danger was measurablyover. It then consisted of two men only. Colonel Logan did everything inhis power, as county lieutenant, to sustain the different forts--but itwas not a very easy matter to order a married man from a fort where hisfamily was to defend some other--when his own was in imminent danger. 

I went with my mother in January, 1783, to Logan's station, to prove myfather's will. He had fallen in the preceding July. Twenty armed men wereof the party. Twenty-three widows were in attendance upon the court, toobtain letters of administration on the estates of their husbands, who hadbeen killed during the past year. My mother went to Colonel Logan's, whoreceived and treated her like a sister. 

[Illustration: GENERAL ST. CLAIR. ]

INDIAN STRATEGEM FOILED. 

The Chippewas are a numerous people inhabiting the country north of LakeSuperior, and about the source of the Mississippi. They are divided intoseveral tribes, and are distinguished by the number of blue or black linestattooed on their cheeks and foreheads. 

Travellers have always described them as "the most peaceable tribe ofIndians known in North America. " They are not remarkable for theiractivity as hunters, and this no doubt is owing to the ease with whichthey can procure both game and fish. 

[Illustration: THE SENTINEL. ]

In their pursuit of deer, they sometimes drive them into the small lakes, and then spear them from their canoes; or shoot them with the bow andarrow, after having driven them into inclosures constructed for thepurpose. Snares made of deer sinews, too, are frequently used for catchinglarge and small game: and as these occupations are not beyond the strengthof the old men and boys, they take a share in these toils, which amongmost of the tribes are left exclusively to the squaws. 

In person the Chippewas are not remarkable; they are generally robust, their complexion swarthy, their features broad, and their hair straightand black, which is the case in most of the Indian tribes. But they havenot that piercing eye, which so generally animates the Indiancountenance. 

The aspect of the women is more agreeable than that of the men; they weartheir hair of a great length, and pay much attention to its arrangement, greasing it with considerable taste. 

They appear to be more attentive to the comforts of dress, and lessanxious about its exterior than of their red brethren. Deer and fawnskins, dressed with the hair on, so skilfully that they are perfectlysupple, compose their shirt or coat, which is girt round the waist with abelt, and reaches half way down the thigh. Their moccasins and leggins aregenerally sewn together, and the latter meet the belt to which they arefastened. A ruff or tippet surrounds the neck, and the skin of the deer'shead is formed into a curious sort of cap. 

A robe of several deer skins sewn together is throw over the whole; thisdress is sometimes worn single, but in winter it is always made double, the hair forming both the lining and the outside. 

Thus attired, a Chippewa will lay himself down on the snow and repose incomfort; and if in his wanderings across the numerous lakes with which hiscountry abounds, he should fall short of provisions, he has only to cut ahole in the ice, when he seldom fails of taking a blackfish, or a bass, which he broils over his little wood fire with as much skill as a Frenchcook. 

At the time of the French and Indian wars, the American army was encampedon the Plains of Chippewa. Colonel St. Clair, the commander, was a braveand meritorious officer, but his bravery sometimes amounted to rashness, and his enemies have accused him of indiscretion. In the present instanceperhaps he may have merited the accusation, for the plain on which he hadencamped was bordered by a dense forest, from which the Indian scoutscould easily pick off his sentinels without in the least exposingthemselves to danger. 

[Illustration: CHIPPEWA INDIANS FISHING ON THE ICE. ]

Five nights had passed, and every night the sentinel, who stood at alonely out-post in the vicinity of the forest, had been shot; and theserepeated disasters struck such dread among the remaining soldiers, that noone would come forward to offer to take the post, and the commander, knowing it was only throwing men's lives away, let it stand for a fewnights unoccupied. 

At length, a rifleman of the Virginian corps, volunteered his services forthis dangerous duty; he laughed at the fears of his companions, and toldthem he meant to return safe and drink his commander's health in themorning. The guard marched up soon after, and he shouldered his rifle andfell. He arrived at the place which had been so fatal to his comrades, andbidding his fellow soldiers "good night, " assumed the duties of his post. The night was dark, thick clouds overspread the firmament, and hardly astar could be seen by the sentinel as he paced his lonely walk. All wassilent except the gradually retreating footsteps of the guard; he marchedonwards, then stopped and listened till he thought he heard the joyfulsound of "All's well"--then all was still, and he sat down on a fallentree and began to muse. Presently a low rustling among the bushes caughthis ear; he gazed intently towards the spot whence the sound seemed toproceed, but he could see nothing save the impenetrable gloom of theforest. The sound grew nearer, and a well-known grunt informed him of theapproach of a bear. The animal passed the soldier slowly, and then quietlysought the thicket to the left. At this moment the moon shone out brightthrough the parting clouds, and the wary soldier perceived the ornamentedmoccasin of a savage on what an instant before he believed to be a bear!He could have shot him in a moment, but he knew not how many other animalsmight be at hand; he therefore refrained, and having perfect knowledge ofIndian subtilty, he quickly took off his hat and coat, hung them on abranch of a fallen tree, grasped his rifle, and silently crept towards thethicket. He had barely reached it, when an arrow, whizzing past his head, told him of the danger he had so narrowly escaped. 

He looked carefully round him, and on a little spot of cleared land hecounted twelve Indians, some sitting, some lying full length on thethickly strewn leaves of the forest. Believing that they had already shotthe sentinel, and little thinking there was any one within hearing, theywere quite off their guard, and conversed aloud about their plans for themorrow. 

It appeared that a council of twelve chiefs was now held, in which theygravely deliberated on the most effectual means of annoying the enemy. Itwas decided that the next evening forty of their warriors should be inreadiness at the hour when the sentinel should be left by his comrades, and that when they had retired a few paces, an arrow should silence himfor ever, and they would then rush on and massacre the guard. 

This being concluded, they rose, and drawing the numerous folds of theirample robes closer round them, they marched off in Indian file through thegloomy forest, seeking some more distant spot, where the smoke of theirnightly fire would not be observed by the white men. 

The sentinel rose from his hiding-place and returned to his post, andtaking down his hat, found that an arrow had passed clean through it. Hethen wrapt himself in his watch-coat, and returned immediately to thecamp; and without any delay demanded to speak to the commander, sayingthat he had something important to communicate. 

[Illustration: GENERAL MORGAN. ]

He was admitted, and when he had told all that he had seen and heard, theColonel bestowed on him the commission of lieutenant of the Virginiacorps, which had been made vacant by the death of one of his comrades afew nights back, and ordered him to be ready with a picket guard, to marchan hour earlier than usual to the fatal out-post, there to place a hat andcoat on the branches, and then lie in ambush for the intruders. 

The following evening, according to the orders given by Colonel St. Clair, a detachment of forty riflemen, with Lieutenant Morgan at their head, marched from the camp at half past seven in the evening towards theappointed spot, and having arranged the hat and coat so as to have theappearance of a soldier standing on guard, they stole silently away andhid themselves among the bushes. 

Here they lay for almost an hour before any signs of approaching Indianswere heard. The night was cold and still, and the rising moon shone forthin all her beauty. The men were becoming impatient of their uncomfortablesituation, for their clothes were not so well adapted to a bed of snow asthe deer-skin robes of the hardy Chippewas. 

"Silence!" whispered Lieutenant Morgan--"I hear the rustling of theleaves. "

Presently a bear of the same description as had been seen the nightbefore, passed near the ambush; it crept to the edge of theplain--reconnoitred--saw the sentinel at his post--retired towards theforest a few paces, and then, suddenly rising on his feet, let fly anarrow which brought the sham sentinel to the ground. So impatient were theVirginians to avenge the death of their comrades that they could scarcelywait till the lieutenant gave the word of command to fire--then they rosein a body, and before the Chippewas had time to draw their arrows or seizetheir tomahawks, more than half their number lay dead upon the plain. Therest fled to the forest, but the riflemen fired again, and killed orwounded several more of the enemy. They then returned in triumph to relatetheir exploits in the camp. 

Ten chiefs fell that night, and their fall was, undoubtedly, one principalcause of the French and Indian wars with the English. 

Lieutenant Morgan rose to be a captain, and at the termination of the warreturned home, and lived on his own farm till the breaking out of theAmerican war. And then, at the head of a corps of Virginia rifleman, appeared our hero, the brave and gallant Colonel Morgan, better known bythe title of general, which he soon acquired by his courage and ability. 

[Illustration: BLACKBIRD. ]

BLACKBIRD. 

Among the first tribes of the Great Oregon Territory, which establishedfriendly intercourse with the United States traders, were the Omahas. Theboast of these Indians was a chief named Blackbird, who was a steadfastfriend of the white men and the terror of the neighboring hostile tribes. Such were his skill, courage, and success in war, that friends and foesregarded him as enchanted. He delighted in trials of strength or agility, in which he always came off victorious. In addition to these qualities, hepossessed a secret which rendered him more than human in the eyes of hisbarbarous followers. This was an acquaintance with the properties ofarsenic, which he had obtained from a white trader. Whenever he wasdispleased with an Indian, he prophesied his death before a certain day, and the sure accomplishment of the prophecy rendered Blackbird an objectof terror and reverence. 

On one occasion, the Poncas made an incursion into Blackbird's territory, and carried away a number of women and horses. He immediately collectedhis warriors and pursued them. The Poncas sheltered themselves behind arude embankment, but their persevering enemy, gaining a good position, poured upon them a well-directed fire, which did fearful execution. ThePonca chief dispatched a herald, with the calumet, but he was immediatelyshot; a second herald experienced the same treatment. The chieftain'sdaughter, a young maiden of much personal beauty, then appeared before thestern foe, dressed with exquisite taste, and bearing the calumet. Blackbird's heart softened, he accepted the sacred emblem, and concluded apeace with his enemy. The pledge given and received was the beautifulPonca maiden, as wife to the fierce chieftain of Omaha. 

For the first time the heart of Blackbird felt the genial influence oflove. He loved the young creature who had saved her tribe, with all theardor of untutored nature. But he was still a savage, and sometimesungovernable bursts of rage would transport him beyond all bounds ofaffection or decency. In one of these, his beloved wife unwittinglyoffended him. He instantly drew his knife and laid her dead with a singleblow. The dreadful deed calmed him in a moment. For a little while helooked at the beautiful corpse in stupid grief, and then, with his headwrapped in his robe, he sat down beside it. He ate no food, spake no wordfor three days. The remonstrances of his people were received withsilence, and no one dared to uncover his face. At length one of thembrought in a small child, and placed the foot of the unhappy warrior onits neck. Blackbird was moved by the significant appeal and throwing asidehis robe, he arose and delivered an oration. 

The Omaha tribe were greatly thinned by small-pox, and to this loathsomedisease their great chieftain fell a victim. His dying request was boldand fanciful. Near the source of the Missouri is a high solitary rock, round which the river winds in a nearly circular direction, and whichcommands a view of the adjacent country for many miles around. ThereBlackbird had often sat to watch for the canoes of the white traders, andthere it was his dying request to be buried. He was to be mounted upon hishorse, completely armed, so as to overlook his lands, and watch for thecoming boat of the white men. His orders were obeyed; and on that samehigh promontory, over the tomb of the Indian warrior was raised hisnational banner, capped with the scalps which he had taken in battle. Ofcourse the Indians regard the rock with superstitious reverence, and havetheir own stories of the scenes which occasionally take place on andaround it. 

A DESPERATE ADVENTURE. 

While encamped on the 24th of April, at a spring near the Spanish Trail, we were surprised by the sudden appearance amongst us of two Mexicans; aman and a boy. The name of the man was Andreas Fuentas, and that of theboy, a handsome lad of eleven years old, Pablo Hernandez. With a cavalcadeof about thirty horses, they had come out from Puebla de los Angelos, nearthe Pacific; had lost half their animals, stolen by the Indians, and nowsought my camp for aid. Carson and Godey, two of my men, volunteered topursue them, with the Mexican; and, well mounted, the three set off on thetrail. In the evening, Fuentas returned, his horse having failed; butCarson and Godey had continued the pursuit. 

[Illustration: KIT. CARSON. ]

In the afternoon of the next day, a war-whoop was heard, such as Indiansmake when returning from a victorious enterprise; and soon Carson andGodey appeared driving before them a band of horses, recognised by Fuentasto be a part of those they had lost. Two bloody scalps, dangling from theend of Godey's gun, announced that they had overtaken the Indians as wellas the horses. They had continued the pursuit alone after Fuentas leftthem, and towards nightfall entered the mountains into which the trailled. After sunset, the moon gave light until late in the night, when itentered a narrow defile, and was difficult to follow. Here they lay frommidnight till morning. At daylight they resumed the pursuit, and atsunrise discovered the horses; and immediately dismounting and tying uptheir own, they crept cautiously to a rising ground which intervened, fromthe crest of which they perceived the encampment of four lodges close by. They proceeded quietly, and got within thirty or forty yards of theirobject, when a movement among the horses discovered them to the Indians. Giving the war shout, they instantly charged into the camp, regardless ofthe numbers which the four lodges might contain. The Indians received themwith a flight of arrows, shot from their long bows, one of which passedthrough Godey's shirt collar, barely missing the neck. Our men fired theirrifles upon a steady aim, and rushed in. Two Indians were stretched uponthe ground, fatally pierced with bullets; the rest fled, except a lad, whowas captured. The scalps of the fallen were instantly stripped off, but inthe process, one of them, who had two balls through his body, sprung tohis feet, the blood streaming from his skinned head, and uttered a hideoushowl. The frightful spectacle appalled the stout hearts of our men; butthey did what humanity required, and quickly terminated the agony of thegory savage. They were now masters of the camp, which was a pretty littlerecess in the mountain, with a fine spring, and apparently safe from allinvasion. Great preparation had been made for feasting a large party, forit was a very proper place for a rendezvous, and for the celebration ofsuch orgies as robbers of the desert would delight in. Several of thehorses had been killed, skinned, and cut up--for the Indians living in themountains, and only coming into the plains to rob and murder, make noother use of horses than to eat them. Large earthen vessels were on thefire, boiling and stewing the horse beef, and several baskets containingfifty or sixty pair of moccasins, indicated the presence or expectation ofa large party. They released the boy who had given strong evidence of thestoicism, or something else of the savage character, by commencing hisbreakfast upon a horse's head as soon as he found he was not to be killed, but only tied as a prisoner. 

[Illustration: AN INDIAN CAMP. ]

Their object accomplished, our men gathered up all the surviving horses, fifteen in number, returned upon their trail, and rejoined us at our campin the afternoon of the same day. They had rode about one hundred miles inthe pursuit and return, and all in about thirty hours. The time, place, object and numbers considered, this expedition of Carson and Godey may beconsidered among the boldest and most disinterested which the annals ofwestern adventure, so full of daring deeds, can present. Two men in asavage wilderness, pursue day and night an unknown body of Indians intothe defiles of an unknown mountain--attack them on sight without countingnumbers--and defeat them in an instant--and for what?--to punish therobbers of the desert, and revenge the wrongs of Mexicans whom they didnot know. I repeat it was Carson and Godey who did this--the former anAmerican, born, in Booneslick county, Missouri; the latter a Frenchman, born in St. Louis--and both trained to western enterprise from earlylife. 

ADVENTURE OF TWO SCOUTS. 

As early as the year 1790, the block-house and stockade, above the mouthof the Hockhocking river, was a frontier post for the hardy pioneer ofthat portion of the state from the Hockhocking to the Sciota, and from theOhio river to the northern lakes. Then nature wore her undisturbed liveryof dark and thick forests, interspersed with green and flowery prairies. Then the axe of the woodman had not been heard in the wilderness, nor theplough of the husbandmen marred the beauty of the green prairies. Amongthe rich and luxuriant valleys, that of the Hockhocking was pre-eminentfor nature's richest gifts--and the portico of it whereon Lancaster nowstands, was marked as the most luxuriant and picturesque, and became theseat of an Indian village, at a period so early, that the "memory of manrunneth not parallel thereto. " On the green sward of the prairie was heldmany a rude gambol of the Indians; and here, too, was many an assemblageof the warriors of one of the most powerful tribes, taking counsel for a"war-path, " upon some weak or defenceless post. 

[Illustration: THE BLOCK-HOUSE. ]

Upon one of these stirring occasions, intelligence reached the littlegarrison above the mouth of the Hockhocking, that the Indians weregathering in force somewhere up the valley, for the purpose of striking aterrible and fatal blow on one of the few and scattered defences of thewhites. A council was held by the garrison, and scouts were sent up theHockhocking, in order to ascertain the strength of the foe, and theprobable point of attack. In the month of October, and on one of thebalmiest days of our Indian summer, two men could have been seen emergingout of the thick plumb and hazel bushes skirting the prairie, andstealthily climbing the eastern declivity of that most remarkablepromontory, now known as Mount Pleasant, whose western summit gives acommanding view to the eye of what is doing on the prairie. This eminencewas gained by our two adventurers and hardy scouts, and from this pointthey carefully observed the movements taking place on the prairie. Everyday brought an accession of warriors to those already assembled, and everyday the scouts witnessed from their eyrie, the horse-racing, leaping, running and throwing the deadly tomahawk by the warriors. The old sachemslooking on with indifference--the squaws, for the most part, engaged intheir usual drudgeries, and the papooses manifesting all the noisy andwayward joy of childhood. The arrival of any new party of savages washailed by the terrible war-whoop, which striking the mural face of MountPleasant, was driven back into the various indentations of the surroundinghills, producing reverberation on reverberation, and echo on echo, till itseemed as if ten thousand fiends were gathered in their orgies. Such yellsmight well strike terror into the bosoms of those unaccustomed to them. Toour scouts these were but martial music strains which waked theirwatchfulness, and strung their iron frames. From their early youth hadthey been always on the frontier, and therefore well practised in all thesubtlety, craft, and cunning, as well as knowing the ferocity andbloodthirsty perseverance of the savage. They were therefore not likely tobe circumvented by the cunning of their foes; and without a desperatestruggle, would not fall victims to the scalping-knife. 

On several occasions, small parties of warriors left the prairies andascended the Mount; at which times the scouts would hide in the fissuresof the rocks, or lying by the side of some long prostrate tree, coverthemselves with the sear and yellow leaf, and again leave their hidingplaces when their uninvited visitors had disappeared. 

[Illustration: A SHAWANESE WARRIOR. ]

For food they depended on jerked venison, and cold corn bread, with whichtheir knapsacks had been well stored. Fire they dared not kindle, and thereport of one of their rifles would bring upon them the entire force ofthe Indians. For drink they depended on some rain water, which still stoodin excavations of the rocks, but in a few days this store was exhausted, and M'Clelland and White must abandon their enterprise or find a newsupply. To accomplish this most hazardous affair, M'Clelland being theelder, resolved to make the attempt--with his trusty rifle in his grasp, and two canteens strung across his shoulders, he cautiously descended tothe prairie, and skirting the hills on the north as much as possiblewithin the hazel thickets, he struck a course for the Hockhocking river. He reached its margin, and turning an abrupt point of a hill, he found abeautiful fountain of limpid water, now known as the Cold Spring, within afew feet of the river. He filled his canteens and returned in safety tohis watchful companion. It was now determined to have a fresh supply ofwater every day, and this duty was to be performed alternately. 

On one of these occasions, after White had filled his canteens, he sat afew moments, watching the limpid element, as it came gurgling out of thebosom of the earth--the light sound of footsteps caught his practised ear, and upon turning round, he saw two squaws within a few feet of him; theseupon turning the jet of the hill had thus suddenly came upon him. Theelder squaw gave one of those far-reaching whoops peculiar to the Indians. White at once comprehended his perilous situation--for if the alarm shouldreach the camp, he and his companion must inevitably perish. Self-preservation impelled him to inflict a noiseless death upon thesquaws, and in such a manner as to leave no trace behind. Ever rapid inthought, and prompt in action, he sprang upon his victims with a rapidityand power of a panther, and grasping the throat of each, with one bound hesprang into the river, and rapidly thrust the head of the elder womanunder the water, and making stronger efforts to submerge the younger, who, however, powerfully resisted. During the short struggle, the youngerfemale addressed him in his own language, though almost in inarticulatesounds. Releasing his hold, she informed him, that, ten years before, shehad been made a prisoner, on Grave Creek flats, and that the Indians, inher presence, butchered her mother and two sisters; and that an onlybrother had been captured with her, who succeeded on the second night inmaking his escape; but what had become of him she knew not. 

During the narrative, White, unobserved by the girl, had let go his graspon the elder squaw, whose body soon floated where it would not, probablysoon be found. He now directed the girl hastily to follow him, and withhis usual energy and speed, pushed for the Mount. They had scarcely gonetwo hundred yards from the spring, before the alarm cry was heard somequarter of a mile down the stream. It was supposed that some warriorsreturning from a hunt, struck the Hockhocking just as the body of thedrowned squaw floated past. White and the girl succeeded in reaching theMount, where M'Clelland had been no indifferent spectator to the suddencommotion among the Indians, as the prairie warriors were seen to strikeoff in every direction, and before White and the girl had arrived, a partyof some twenty warriors had already gained the eastern acclivity of theMount, and were cautiously ascending, carefully keeping under cover. Soonthe two scouts saw the swarthy faces of the foe, as they glided from treeto tree, and rock to rock, until the whole base of the Mount wassurrounded, and all hopes of escape were cut off. 

[Illustration: A SHAWANESE CHIEF. ]

In this peril nothing was left, other than to sell their lives as dearlyas possible; this they resolved to do, and advised the girl to escape tothe Indians, and tell them she had been a captive to the scouts. 

She said, "No! Death, and that in presence of my people, is to me athousand times sweeter than captivity--furnish me with a rifle, and I willshow you that I can fight as well as die. This spot I leave not! here mybones shall lie bleaching with yours! and should either of you escape, youwill carry the tidings of my death to my remaining relatives. "

Remonstrance proved fruitless; the two scouts matured their plans for avigorous defence--opposing craft to craft, expedient to expedient, and anunerring fire of the deadly rifle. The attack now commenced in front, where, from the narrow backbone of the Mount, the savages had to advancein single file, but where they could avail themselves of the rock andtrees. In advancing the warrior must be momentarily exposed, and two bareinches of his swarthy form was target enough for the unerring rifle of thescouts. After bravely maintaining the fight in front, and keeping theenemy in check, they discovered a new danger threatening them. The waryfoe now made every preparation to attack them in flank, which could bemost successfully and fatally done by reaching an insulated rock lying inone of the ravines on the southern hill side. This rock once gained by theIndians, they could bring the scouts under point blank shot of the rifle;and without the possibility of escape. 

Our brave scouts saw the hopelessness of their situation, which nothingcould avert but brave companions and an unerring shot--them they had not. But the brave never despair. With this certain fate resting upon them, they had continued as calm, and as calculating, and as unwearied as thestrongest desire of vengeance on a treacherous foe could produce. SoonM'Clelland saw a tall and swarthy figure preparing to spring from a coverso near the fatal rock, that a single bound must reach it, and all hope bedestroyed. He felt that all depended on one advantageous shot, althoughbut one inch of the warrior's body was exposed, and that at a distance ofone hundred yards--he resolved to risk all--coolly he raised his rifle tohis eyes, carefully shading the sight with his hand, he drew a bead sosure, that he felt conscious it would do--he touched the hair trigger withhis finger--the hammer came down, but in place of striking fire, itcrushed his flint into a hundred fragments! Although he felt that thesavage must reach the fatal rock before he could adjust another flint, heproceeded to the task with the utmost composure, casting many a furtiveglance towards the fearful point. Suddenly he saw the warrior stretchingevery muscle for the leap--and with the agility of a deer he made thespring--instead of reaching the rock he sprung ten feet in the air, andgiving one terrific yell he fell upon the earth, and his dark corpserolled fifty feet down the hill. He had evidently received a death shotfrom some unknown hand. A hundred voices from below re-echoed the terribleshout, and it was evident that they had lost a favorite warrior, as wellas been foiled for a time in their most important movement. A very fewmoments proved that the advantage so mysteriously gained would be of shortduration; for already the scouts caught a momentary glimpse of a swarthywarrior, cautiously advancing towards the cover so recently occupied by afellow companion. Now, too, the attack in front was resumed with increasedfury, so as to require the incessant fire of both scouts, to prevent theIndians from gaining the eminence--and in a short time M'Clelland saw thewary warrior turning a somerset, his corpse rolled down towards hiscompanion: again a mysterious agent had interposed in their behalf. Thissecond sacrifice cast dismay into the ranks of the assailants; and just asthe sun was disappearing behind the western hills, the foe withdrew ashort distance, for the purpose of devising new modes of attack. Therespite came most seasonably to the scouts, who had bravely kept theirposition, and boldly maintained the unequal fight from the middle of theday. 

[Illustration: THE SCOUT. ]

Now, for the first time, was the girl missing, and the scouts supposedthrough terror she had escaped to her former captors, or that she had beenkilled during the fight. They were not long left to doubt, for in a fewmoments the girl was seen emerging from behind a rock and coming to themwith a rifle in her hand. 

During the heat of the fight she saw a warrior fall, who had advanced somefifty yards before the main body in front. She at once resolved to possessherself of his rifle, and crouching in undergrowth she crept to the spot, and succeeded in her enterprise, being all the time exposed to the crossfire of the defenders and assailants--her practised eye had early noticedthe fatal rock, and hers was the mysterious hand by which the two warriorshad fallen--the last being the most wary, untiring, and bloodthirsty braveof the Shawnese tribe. He it was, who ten years previous had scalped thefamily of the girl, and been her captor. 

In the west, dark clouds were now gathering, and in an hour the wholeheavens were shrouded in them; this darkness greatly embarrassed thescouts in their contemplated night retreat, for they might readily losetheir way, or accidentally fall on the enemy--this being highly probable, if not inevitable. An hour's consultation decided their plans, and it wasagreed that the girl, from her intimate knowledge of their localities, should lead the advance a few steps. Another advantage might be gained bythis arrangement, for in case they should fall in with some out-post, thegirl's knowledge of the Indian tongue, would, perhaps, enable her todeceive the sentinel: and so the sequel proved, for scarcely had theydescended one hundred feet, when a low "whist" from the girl, warned themof present danger. 

[Illustration: THE RETURNED CAPTIVE. ]

The scouts sunk silently to the earth, where, by previous agreement, theywere to remain till another signal was given them by the girl, --whoseabsence for more than a quarter of an hour now began to excite the mostserious apprehensions. At length, she again appeared, and told them thatshe had succeeded in removing two sentinels who were directly in theirroute to a point some hundred feet distant. The descent was noiselesslyresumed--the level gained, and the scouts followed their intrepid pioneerfor half a mile in the most profound silence, when the barking of a smalldog, within a few feet, apprised them of a new danger. The almostsimultaneous click of the scouts' rifles was heard by the girl, whorapidly approached them, and stated that they were now in the midst of theIndian wigwams, and their lives depended on the most profound silence, andimplicitly following her footsteps. A moment afterwards, the girl wasaccosted by a squaw, from an opening in the wigwam. She replied in theIndian language, and without stopping pressed forward. 

In a short time she stopped and assured the scouts that the village wascleared and that they were now in safety. She knew that every pass leadingout of the prairie was safely guarded by Indians, and at once resolved toadopt the bold adventure of passing through the very centre of theirvillage as the least hazardous. The result proved the correctness of herjudgment. 

They now kept a course for the Ohio, being guided by the Hockhockingriver--and after three days' march and suffering, the party arrived at theblock-house in safety. 

Their escape from the Indians, prevented the contemplated attack; and therescued girl proved to be the sister of the intrepid Neil Washburn, celebrated in Indian warfare as the renowned scout to Captain Kenton'sbloody Kentuckians. 

[Illustration: THE YOUNG HERO CROSSING THE RIVER. ]

A YOUNG HERO OF THE WEST. 

To show of what material the boys were made, in the great heroic age ofthe west, we give the following, which we find in a recent communicationfrom Major Nye, of Ohio. The scene of adventure was within the presentlimits of Wood county, Virginia. 

I have heard from Mr. Guthrie and others, that at Bellville a man had ason, quite a youth, say twelve or fourteen years of age, who had been usedto firing his father's gun, as most boys did in those days. He heard, hesupposed, turkeys on or near the bank of the Ohio, opposite that place, and asked his father to let him take his gun and kill one. His fatherknowing that the Indians often decoyed people by such noises, refused, saying it was probably an Indian. When he had gone to work, the boy tookthe gun and paddled his canoe over the river, but had the precaution toland some distance from where he had heard the turkey all the morning, probably from fear of scaring the game, and perhaps a little afraid ofIndians. The banks were steep, and the boy cautiously advanced to where hecould see without being seen. Watching awhile for his game, he happened tosee an Indian cautiously looking over a log, to notice where the boy hadlanded. The lad fixed his gun at rest, watching the place where he hadseen the Indian's head, and when it appeared again, fired, and the Indiandisappeared. The boy dropped the gun and ran for his canoe, which hepaddled 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 havenot. " "Yes, I have, " said the boy. The father coming in, he made the samereport to him, and received the same reply; but he constantly affirmed itwas even so; and, as the gun was left, a party took the boy over the riverto find it, and show the place where he shot the Indian, and behold, hiswords were found verified. The ball had entered the head, where the boyhad affirmed he shot, between the eye and ear. 

THE END.