H O. BEAC1 
 


 
 JOHN S FIGHT WITH THE BEAR. Page 79. 
 
HI B-a 8HEPARD? 
 
THE FRONTIER SERIES. 
 
 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 OB, 
 
 THE PIONEEB BOYS. 
 
 A STORY OF FRONTIER LIFE. 
 
 JAMES D. McCABE, JR. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 LEE A. N 3D SH 
 
 1870. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, In the year 18C9, by 
 
 LEE AXD SHEPARD, 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 rLECTROTYTEr* AT TO* 
 
 BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUWDBT, 
 
 19 Spring Lane. 
 
t* 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE author has endeavored to present in these pages a 
 faithful picture of the life and trials of those brave men and 
 women who drove out the savage from the great West, and 
 laid the foundations of that mighty empire, of which we 
 Americans of to-day are justly so proud. This portion of 
 our history has been too much neglected, and it is hoped 
 that this little work will induce many a young American to 
 inform himself of the events of that part of our country s 
 career which we call our pioneer history. It is believed that 
 the picture presented herein is "true to life," for, although 
 the characters are fictitious, the incidents related are based 
 upon actual occurrences, and there are persons still living 
 in the Ohio valley, who can testify to the general truthful 
 ness of the narrative. j D McC<> JR 
 
 NEW YORK, October, 1, 1869. 
 
 (3) 
 
 M8S962 
 
THE FRONTIER SERIES. 
 
 FOUR VOLUMES, ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 1. The Cabin on the Prairie. By Rev. C. H. PEABSON. 
 
 Price $1.25. 
 
 2. Planting the Wilderness; or, THE PIONEER BOYS. 
 
 By J. D. McCABE. Price $1.25. 
 
 3. A Thousand Miles 9 Walk Across South America* 
 
 By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. Price $1.50. 
 
 4. Twelve Nights in the Hunters Camp. By Rev. 
 
 WM. BARROWS. Price $1.25. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEB PAGE 
 
 I. LEAVING THE OLD HOME 9 
 
 II. THE EMIGRANTS. ...... 16 
 
 III. BUILDING AND CLEARING 24 
 
 IV. THE SETTLEMENT 38 
 
 V. THE FORT 60 
 
 VI. AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. . . 84 
 
 VII. THE "TOMAHAWK RIGHT." . . . -115 
 
 VIII. BORDER WAR. . 131 
 
 IX. THE SCOUT 155 
 
 X. THE SIEGE 183 
 
 XI. THE CAPTURE 214 
 
 XII. THE TORTURE .227 
 
 XIII. JOHN S WEDDING. 244 
 
 (7) 
 
PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LEAVING THE OLD HOME. 
 
 IN the early spring of the year of our Lord 
 1773, there lived on the Upper Potomac, in the 
 County of Loudon, in the then Colony of Vir 
 ginia, a man by the name of Thomas Oxenford. 
 He was a plain, honest, God-fearing man, and 
 was forty-four years old. He was of English 
 descent, and his parents had come originally to 
 Alexandria, from which place they had removed 
 to the County of Loudon, and had settled upon 
 a small farm, not far from where the town of 
 Leesburg now stands. Thomas Oxenford was 
 an only child, and, consequently, had inherited 
 the little property of his parents, who had died 
 
 (9) 
 
10 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 in his thirtieth year; but this property, which 
 consisted of a tolerably stocked farm of two 
 hundred acres of medium quality land, had 
 also come to him heavily encumbered by his 
 fathfer. s/ ddb cs. , : &iid .it proved, in the end, as 
 muck -of .a -burden ,as.a profit. 
 
 Miv GxenfGrd- ka d Carried about a year pre 
 vious to the death of his father, his last surviv 
 ing parent,- and, at the time of which I write, 
 his family consisted of himself and wife, two 
 sons, John and Thomas, aged respectively 
 fourteen and twelve years, and three daughters, 
 Mary, Jane, and Rachel, aged respectively 
 nine, six, and three years. This little flock 
 was his pride and delight, and I am sure there 
 never lived a family happier in each other. 
 They had, like all of us, their outside troubles, 
 and at this time these came upon them with 
 terrible force. 
 
 I have said that the Oxenford farm came to 
 its present owner encumbered with his father s 
 debts. These debts were very heavy, and for 
 fourteen years Mr. Oxenford had exerted him- 
 
LEAVING THE OLD HOME. II 
 
 self to pay them. He had reduced the amount 
 very greatly; but, by the spring of 1773, the 
 principal and interest of the aggregate claims 
 against him amounted to very nearly the full 
 value of the farm, and his creditors threatened 
 that, as they saw no prospect of their payment, 
 they would seize his property for their own 
 protection, if their claims were not discharged 
 in another year. This brought matters to a 
 crisis ; and, for a while, the future looked dark 
 enough to the poor man. But Thomas Ox- 
 enford was a Christian man; and when his 
 troubles were darkest, he sought the only arm 
 that is all-powerful to save, and God heard 
 him, as he hears the prayers of every soul 
 that seeks him, and brought him through his 
 troubles. Mr. Oxenford determined to sell his 
 farm, and was fortunate enough to find a cash 
 purchaser for it. With the money he received 
 for it he paid the last debt due upon it, and 
 then prepared to leave forever the home of his 
 own and his children s childhood. It cost him 
 a hard struggle to do this ; for he loved the 
 
12 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 place dearly, both for its own sake and for the 
 many happy hours he had passed there with 
 his family. These ties, however, were broken, 
 and the little family prepared to seek a new 
 home. 
 
 After selling his farm, and paying the debts 
 upon it, Mr. Oxenford found that he had a lit 
 tle less than seventy-five pounds left. This 
 was a small sum for a man of family ; but it 
 was all he had to begin life afresh. To think 
 of remaining in the older portion of the colony 
 under such circumstances he felt to be mad 
 ness, and he resolved to cross the mountains, 
 and build up a home in the distant west. The 
 hardy pioneers of that section had fairly settled 
 the region lying along the lower waters of the 
 Monongehela River, and, in several instances, 
 had pushed their settlements as far west as the 
 left bank of the Ohio. The country was new ; 
 but it had ceased to be the regular home of the 
 savages, who had abandoned all parts of Vir 
 ginia, and withdrawn to what is now the State 
 of Ohio, and it was the place of all places 
 
LEAVING THE OLD HOME. 13 
 
 which promised a rich reward to those who 
 had the courage and fortitude to come out and 
 conquer the wilderness. The savages, it is 
 true, made frequent incursions into this section ; 
 but, as a general thing, they accomplished very 
 little, and the whites had gained a foothold 
 which every one felt was too firm to be forced 
 back. Mr. Oxenford had heard rare stories 
 of the beauty and fertility of the Ohio Valley, 
 and had more than once contemplated a re 
 moval to it in case his difficulties came to the 
 worst, and had only been prevented from put 
 ting this plan into execution by two very nat 
 ural feelings namely, a desire to remain in 
 his old home, and a hope of conquering his ill 
 fortune without subjecting his family to the 
 hardships and inconvenience of such a re 
 moval ; but now that there was no escape from 
 the necessity of making a change, he deter 
 mined to lose no time in setting out. The sea 
 son was favorable, for it was the last of 
 March, and by the first of April he hoped to 
 begin his journey. He found able helpers in 
 
14 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 his wife and elder son. The brave woman was 
 a true matron of our heroic days ; and, though 
 her heart bled at leaving forever the home in 
 which her happiest years had been spent, she 
 never murmured. Her only thought was to 
 lighten the cares that had fallen upon her hus 
 band ; and she proved, in this trying time, the 
 value of a true wife and Christian woman. 
 John, the eldest child, was delighted at the 
 change. He had always wished to be an In 
 dian hunter ; and, as he could not be that just 
 yet, he was glad to have an opportunity to see 
 for himself something of pioneer life, boy-like, 
 looking always upon the brightest side of the 
 picture. 
 
 Well, there were many things to buy, and 
 very little to buy them with. The seventy odd 
 pounds left from the sale of the farm were in 
 creased to a hundred by the sale of such house 
 hold goods as Ihe family could not take with 
 them; but even this sum proved barely suffi 
 cient to procure everything necessary for the 
 change. There were provisions, ammunition, 
 
LEAVING THE OLD HOME. 15 
 
 axes, guns, and a score of other different things 
 to purchase, and it was necessary to keep a lit 
 tle money with them to buy such things as they 
 might have need of on the journey, or during 
 their first season in their new home. Of the 
 stock on the farm, Mr. Oxenford kept only the 
 cow, three of the horses, and a dog. The last 
 was the children s pet, and he would not part 
 with it. 
 
 Everything was in readiness at last, and, at 
 sunrise on the first day of April, 1773, the ad 
 venturers turned their backs upon their old 
 home, which they were never to see again; 
 and, with a prayer to God that he would bless 
 their undertaking, and carry them safely 
 through the perils and trials before them, 
 set their faces bravely toward the wilder 
 ness. 
 
1 6 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 MY young reader may think it a very easy 
 and very pleasant undertaking to journey from 
 the Potomac to the Ohio, for he may have 
 ridden over the route in the comfortable 
 coaches of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, 
 or the Pennsylvania Road; b ut he must re 
 member that the time of which I am writing 
 was long before the invention of steam, and 
 even before the stage coaches had made their 
 appearance west of the seaboard. At that 
 day there were no broad, firm roads over the 
 mountains, but in their place was merely the 
 "trail," as it was called, left by the ill-fated 
 expedition of General Braddock, and the mil 
 itary trail through Pennsylvania, by way of 
 Bedford and Fort Ligonier to Fort Pitt, the 
 site of the present city of Pittsburg. Very few 
 
THE EMIGRANTS. Ij 
 
 persons took the latter route, as it was the 
 longer of the two, and the majority followed 
 Braddock s road, which, though the more dif 
 ficult, was the more direct. It was this route 
 that the Oxenfords selected; and, after leav 
 ing Loudon, they travelled slowly through the 
 adjoining county to Winchester, in the Valley 
 of Virginia, then a mere hamlet, and little bet 
 ter than a frontier post. Here Mr. Oxenford 
 purchased a few articles of necessity, which 
 he had not been able to procure at such short 
 notice on the Potomac, and the journey was 
 resumed in the direction of Fort Cumberland, 
 in Maryland. 
 
 The three horses were made to carry the 
 younger children and the household goods of 
 the family. Two of them were provided with 
 pack-saddles, upon which were loaded the 
 articles to be transported ; and the youngest 
 children, who could not walk, were placed 
 in hampers, one on each side of the horse, 
 and the hampers were made fast to the horse s 
 saddle. The pack-horses were led by John, 
 2 
 
l8 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 the elder son. Thomas and Mary drove the 
 cow along, Brindle having been secured against 
 running away by means of a long rope which 
 the little fellow held in one hand, and the father 
 led the horse which carried the children, while 
 the mother walked by his side. Thus they 
 travelled towards their new home. They made 
 slow progress at first ; for the mother and chil 
 dren were unused to walking, and could not go 
 far without resting. The weather was un 
 usually fair, and it seemed as if Providence 
 was smiling on their venture, and was making 
 the way as pleasant for them as possible. 
 Every evening towards sunset, having reached 
 some suitable place for passing the night, the 
 little band would halt, and build a roaring fire, 
 and the mother, with the assistance of the 
 others, would prepare supper, which was often 
 made palatable by a dish of game which the 
 father or John would secure during the day. 
 Supper over, the family Bible was brought out, 
 and, by the light of the fire, Thomas Oxenford 
 would read to the little band gathered around 
 
THE EMIGRANTS. 19 
 
 him those blessed words which can give 
 strength to the weak and courage to the faint 
 hearted, and which can cheer the heart when 
 everything human has failed. Indeed, I think 
 God s Holy Word has never been so carefully 
 and constantly read by any persons as by those 
 who " planted the wilderness " in the early days 
 of which I am writing. It was not because it 
 was the only book they had that they studied 
 its pages so faithfully. They had a higher, a 
 more powerful motive. They felt as we, their 
 children, rarely feel, the power of the Lord 
 Jehovah, and their need of his aid. They had 
 gone out trusting in him, and they had every 
 day proof that without him they could do noth 
 ing. We, with our comforts and " modern im 
 provements," are too apt to forget, and still 
 more apt to fail to acknowledge, this depen 
 dence. But our forefathers were wiser than 
 we. Having finished the chapter, Mr. Oxen- 
 ford would ask God s blessing on their under 
 taking, and his guidance on their lonely way, 
 and then the dim forest would ring with the 
 
2O PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 strains of some sweet old hymn words -they 
 could not sing without tears ; for they carried 
 them back to their old home, which they would 
 see no more forever. Then they went to rest 
 the children wrapped in their blankets, and 
 laid on beds of forest leaves, and the older 
 members of the family finding their beds on 
 the ground. One member was always awake, 
 to keep up the fire, which was a safeguard 
 against wild beasts, and to see that no danger 
 befell the sleepers. This duty was generally 
 performed by the parents and the elder son. 
 John, being unused to vigils such as these, was 
 given what the sailors call the w dog watch," 
 or, in other words, he stood guard from the 
 family bed-time till ten o clock. Then his 
 mother relieved him, and his father relieved 
 her at two o clock, giving the wife and son the 
 longest times for sleep. At sunrise, the next 
 day, the camp was astir, and the day was 
 opened, as the previous one had closed, with 
 prayer and praise. Then followed breakfast, 
 after which the journey was resumed. 
 
THE EMIGRANTS. 21 
 
 In due time, Fort Cumberland, where now 
 stands the thriving city of Cumberland, in 
 Maryland, was reached and passed, and in 
 a few days our emigrants had crossed the 
 Monongehela, near its junction with the You- 
 ghiogeny. They were now fairly over the 
 Allegheny Mountains, and were very near 
 the scene of Braddock s defeat in Western 
 Pennsylvania. This region was beginning 
 to attract settlers ; but Mr. Oxenford was de 
 sirous of going farther west ; so, leaving Brad- 
 dock s trail, at the point where he crossed the 
 Monongehela, he journeyed towards the Ohio, 
 which he reached, a few days later, at a point 
 about twenty-five miles below the site of the 
 present city of Wheeling, the capital of the 
 State of West Virginia. 
 
 It so happened that he came in sight of the 
 Ohio near the mouth of Fish Creek. Pleased 
 with the beauty of the country, and detecting, 
 at a glance, for he was a thorough farmer, 
 the good qualities of the soil, he determined 
 to make this section his home. He could not 
 
22 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 have chosen a better time for his first view 
 of the country. It was the middle of April, 
 and the spring was far advanced. The grass 
 was grown, and it covered the whole earth 
 with a robe of the richest green a hue which 
 the shade of the hills that shut in the valley 
 seemed to deepen. The dogwood blossoms 
 were out, and the buttercups and wild violets 
 were sparkling all through the grass. The 
 breeze which swept down from the hills was 
 balmy and sweet, and the very breath of it 
 seemed to give new life to our emigrants. 
 They paused involuntarily on a little knoll 
 commanding a distant view of the river and 
 creek, and simultaneously they exclaimed that 
 they had found their home. It had been twen 
 ty days since they had left their old home in 
 Loudon, and now they had reached the end 
 of their wanderings. 
 
 Deeming it imprudent to locate himself so 
 near the river, as the sight of his dwelling, when 
 built, might prove a constant temptation to the 
 Indians on the opposite side of the Ohio, Mr. 
 
THE EMIGRANTS. 23 
 
 Oxenford determined to go a mile or so farther 
 up the creek ; and, following the shore, they 
 reached, by nightfall, a spot about six miles 
 from the river, where they determined to locate 
 themselves. It was too late, however, to do 
 anything that night, and the family went to 
 rest early, determined to rise the next morn 
 ing with the lark, and lay the foundation of 
 their future home. 
 
24 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BUILDING AND CLEARING. 
 
 WORN out by the long journey and the 
 fatigue of the previous day, Mr. Oxenford, to 
 whom was assigned the morning watch, fell 
 asleep by the fire towards daybreak. He was 
 aroused by some one placing a hand on his 
 shoulder. Starting up in alarm, he seized 
 his gun, and looked about him. There was 
 no one near but John, who was laughing 
 at his father s alarm. The sun was shining 
 brightly, but the other members of the family 
 were still sleeping. 
 
 "Why, father," said John, laughing, "you 
 look as though you expected to see an Indian." 
 
 "To tell the truth, I did," said Mr. Oxen- 
 ford, laying down his gun with an air of re 
 lief. "I deserved to be surprised for sleeping 
 on my post. It is the first time, however, and 
 
BUILDING AND CLEARING. 25 
 
 it shall be the last. But what are you so 
 happy about?" 
 
 " O, father," cried the boy, rubbing his hands, 
 gleefully," the creek is full of fish full offish." 
 
 "We shall have to let the fish alone for a 
 while, my boy," said Mr. Oxenford. "After 
 we get our house started, we can turn our 
 attention to the fish. Now let us wake your 
 mother and the children, and have breakfast." 
 
 Mrs. Oxenford and her children were soon 
 awakened, and in less than an hour they were 
 all seated at breakfast, having washed their 
 faces in the clear waters of the creek, and given 
 thanks to the Creator for his goodness to them. 
 Breakfast over, the next thing was to prepare 
 for building a dwelling. 
 
 The family had encamped, on the previous 
 night, upon a slight hill, at a distance of a 
 few hundred yards from the creek, and sloping 
 down to it ; and Mr. Oxenford decided, after a 
 brief survey, to make their camping-ground 
 the site of their home. There was no time to 
 be lost about it, and, taking his axe, the settler 
 
26 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 commenced to clear the summit of the hill. 
 John was eager to assist in this work, and as 
 there were two axes at hand, his father gave 
 him one, and the brave boy fell to work with 
 a will. He was well grown for his age, and 
 was as strong as a young bullock. His sturdy 
 blows told well on the trees, and he managed 
 his work so well that he bade fair to rival his 
 father in the task before them. Two days 
 were passed in this manner, and on the morn 
 ing of the third day, Mr. Oxenford said they 
 had cut timber enough, and must now proceed 
 to prepare the logs for building. This was 
 another two days task, and on the morning of 
 the fifth day they had piled their logs ready 
 for use, and had split boards or slabs enough 
 from the larger trees to form the roof and floor 
 of their new dwelling. Then came the clear 
 ing up of the ground, which occupied another 
 day ; and the sixth day, which happened to be 
 Saturday, was passed in boring the, logs with 
 an auger, wherever it was necessary to do so, 
 and making wooden pins to fasten the work 
 
BUILDING AND CLEARING. 27 
 
 together, for there were no nails within reach 
 of the settlers. Sunday was a day of rest; and, 
 in the absence of a church, the pious father 
 called his family around him, and, after a 
 prayer, a hymn, and a chapter from the Bible, 
 spoke to them upon such subjects as he deemed 
 most appropriate to the day and to their sit 
 uation. 
 
 Monday morning they were all up bright 
 and early. The ground was swept free from 
 the leaves which had fallen upon it, and the 
 father and mother and the two boys com 
 menced to build the house, while Mary, the 
 eldest daughter, looked after her little sisters. 
 They worked bravely, and by nightfall they 
 had done fully half the work. By a dexterous 
 use of his saw and hatchet, Mr. Oxenford made 
 the logs and the slab-floor fit admirably; and 
 Mrs. Oxenford and the boys assisted him in 
 arranging them, and fastening the pins in their 
 places. There was an abundance of stones, 
 of all sizes, along the shore of the creek, and 
 these furnished the means of constructing a 
 
28 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 hearth and a chimney, while the mud, which 
 soon hardened, formed a very handy mortar for 
 holding the stones together, and filling up the 
 crevices between the logs. By the afternoon 
 of the third day, Wednesday, the roof was on, 
 and the house almost ready for occupancy. 
 
 My readers must not imagine that this was a 
 very roomy mansion, or that the task of build 
 ing it was a very light one. It took nearly a 
 fortnight to clear the ground, and build the 
 house, which was nothing more than a plain 
 log cabin, such as some of you may have seen 
 in the mountains, or in the far south, on the 
 plantations. It had but two rooms on the 
 ground floor, and a loft above, which was 
 reached by means of a rough ladder, which 
 the boys made. There was one window in the 
 side looking from the creek ; but as such a 
 thing as window glass was not to be had, the 
 opening was closed by means of a stout slab 
 shutter, or blind. This window could be used 
 for the purpose of giving light only in warm 
 weather, and during a rain, or the cold season, 
 
BUILDING AND CLEARING. 29 
 
 it would have to remain closed. The floor was 
 made of rough slabs, partially planed down, 
 for Mr. Oxenford had been thoughtful enough 
 to bring with him a small stock of carpenter s 
 tools, and the roof was constructed of heavy 
 clapboards, which he had split from the trees, 
 and the underside of which he lined with a kind 
 of thatching of pine boughs and dry grass. To 
 be sure, it was not such a dwelling as they had 
 left behind, beyond the mountains ; but it was 
 a shelter, and that was a great thing to persons 
 who had been living in the open air for more 
 than a month. The walls were rough, and the 
 long streaks of mud which filled the crevices 
 between the logs looked bad enough ; but, on 
 the whole, the cabin presented a tolerably fair 
 appearance, and, more than this, it was the 
 work of their own hands, and they were very 
 well satisfied with it. Some weeks afterwards 
 the appearance of the walls was improved by 
 nailing, with wooden pins, a row of wooden 
 strips along the "chinks" of mud. This was 
 also an additional comfort, as it made the cab- 
 
30 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 in much warmer. The door, which was also 
 made of slabs, was swung on a wooden hinge, 
 and fastened by day with a latch, and at night 
 by means of a heavy bar cross it inside. 
 
 Mrs. Oxenford had been careful to bring 
 with her the ticking of her beds, and while the 
 cabin was building, she had gathered leaves 
 and dry grass, which she had carefully spread 
 and dried again in the sun ; and by the time 
 the cabin was finished, she had collected and 
 dried enough to make beds for all the family. 
 She and the younger boy filled the tickings, 
 and carried them into the cabin, where they 
 were laid on the floor, and on Saturday night 
 the little family had the satisfaction of sleeping 
 in their new home. 
 
 The next Monday, the house being finished, 
 Mr. Oxenford set about clearing up a patch 
 of land, in order to plant the seed-corn he had 
 brought with him. It was early in May, and 
 he was in good season for his planting. He 
 had brought with him a supply of corn-meal, 
 which he hoped would last, by careful economy, 
 
BUILDING AND CLEARING. 31 
 
 until the first crop should be grown. He 
 determined to locate his cornfield in the bot 
 tom land, bordering on the creek, rightly 
 judging that this low land was richer than 
 that on the hills. He selected a piece about 
 six acres in extent, a very respectable plan 
 tation for a pioneer, and commenced to clear 
 it up. Fortunately, there were very few trees 
 on this part of the land. It was covered 
 mostly with a low undergrowth of weeds and 
 pawpaw bushes, w^hich did not require so 
 much exertion as the cutting down of trees.. 
 The work to be done consisted principally of 
 what the farmers call " grubbing ; " and even 
 the children could assist in this, so that in 
 another week the land was ready for planting. 
 The trouble now was to make a plough ; but 
 John, who was very much of a mechanical 
 genius, soon remedied this by taking his father s 
 tools, and making a very good substitute for an 
 iron tiller of the soil. To be sure the plough 
 had a wooden point ; but then the boy had chosen 
 a piece of tough maple, and had done his work 
 
32 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 so well that there was no doubt that the plough 
 would answer for one season, at least. The 
 ground was soft, and almost black with fertility, 
 and would only require to be broken a little ; 
 and so, though it was slow work, John s plough 
 answered the purpose admirably. The con 
 struction of a harrow was an easier task ; and 
 this the boy performed while his father was 
 ploughing the land. He fastened the triangular 
 frame of the harrow with wooden pegs, and 
 made the teeth of stout oaken pins, which he 
 drove in the auger holes he .had bored in the 
 frame. The harrow answered as well as the 
 plough, and by the twentieth of May the corn 
 was planted. The next thing in order was to 
 plant the potatoes which they had brought out. 
 An acre of land adjoining the cornfield was 
 laid off, and, thanks to John s plough and har 
 row, this was soon planted. 
 
 Meanwhile, John had worked hard. He 
 had made his mother a table, which consisted 
 of a large slab of wood, supported on four 
 sticks, two at each end, stuck in as many auger 
 
BUILDING AND CLEARING. 33 
 
 holes. This answered for their meals, and for 
 the household work. They had brought out 
 their cooking utensils and some tin ware with 
 them, and were well supplied with these articles. 
 John made stools, which were miniature copies 
 of the table, and a row of shelves, which he 
 put up with creditable neatness. He drove a 
 row of pegs along the wall, to answer the place 
 of a clothes-press, and helped his father to make 
 a rough bedstead for each of their three beds. 
 These things were done during such moments 
 as they could spare from other work, and by 
 the beginning of the summer they had provided 
 almost everything that was absolutely necessary 
 to their comfort. To be sure, these things were 
 very rough, but they answered their purpose, 
 and that was all that was required of them. 
 
 By this time a little patch had been laid off 
 for a garden, and planted with such garden 
 seed as they had brought with them. Their 
 corn-meal continued to hold out, and the fish in 
 the creek proved to be of the finest kind, such 
 as "jack," bass, and pike, with an abundance 
 3 
 
34 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 of fresh-water herrings and suckers. The 
 boys attended to this -duty, and rarely a day 
 passed that they did not bring in a fine mess 
 with their little seine. 
 
 The cow, the horses, and the pigs for I 
 had forgotten to mention that the family had 
 brought with them a pair of fine swine for the 
 purpose of raising their pork were kept up, 
 the pigs in a pen, and the other animals tied 
 to trees. The land afforded the best possible 
 grazing, and to little Thomas, who was too 
 young to do much of the work allotted to the 
 rest, was given the task of seeing that the 
 animals were fed and watered, and prevented 
 from running off. 
 
 John, as I have said, was a good-sized boy. 
 He could handle the plough, the carpenter s 
 tools, and the rifle, almost as well as his father ; 
 and, as I have shown, he was of the greatest 
 assistance to his parents. His disposition was 
 lively and cheerful, and no matter how hard 
 was his work, he was never cast down. 
 Everything seemed bright and cheering to him. 
 
BUILDING AND CLEARING. 35 
 
 He said he meant to persevere, and that after 
 a while the country would be settled, and he 
 would make a fortune, and build a fine house 
 where they had located their cabin a resolu 
 tion which he literally carried out fifty years 
 later. 
 
 One morning, soon after their arrival at Fish 
 Creek, Mrs. Oxenford saw John come up to 
 the cabin quickly, take his gun and go off 
 silently and rapidly. His father s orders against 
 wasting ammunition were very strict, and as 
 she saw the eager look on the boy s face, she 
 felt a momentary alarm, for fear there was 
 danger from the Indians. She called after John 
 to come back ; but he was too far to hear her, 
 and she stood in the cabin door, watching him 
 as he disappeared into the woods, and anxiously 
 waiting to learn what would follow. In a 
 few minutes she heard the report of his rifle, 
 followed by a loud hurrah, in a tone so gleeful 
 that it dispelled her fear at once ; and the next 
 instant John dashed out of the woods, dragging 
 something after him, and, coming towards his 
 
36 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 mother at full speed, laid in triumph at her feet 
 an immense wild turkey. 
 
 " I killed him myself, mother," said the boy, 
 proudly. "Isn t he a fine fellow? And look, 
 what a splendid shot; I aimed for his eye, 
 and I ve hit him fair in the head." 
 
 It was, indeed, a " fine fellow," and the boy 
 had a right to be proud. He had seen the 
 turkey in the woods, and had determined on 
 securing it. It was their first game since their 
 arrival, and it lasted them for nearly three days. 
 After this, they had an abundance of game, 
 consisting of wild turkeys, squirrels, and, once 
 or twice, a deer. The country was full of 
 such provisions, and Mr. Oxenford said, after he 
 had finished clearing up his place, he would 
 set to work to lay in a supply of venison. 
 
 Thus the weeks passed away. Every one 
 worked, for there was no room for idlers in 
 such a community, and by the middle of 
 August they had built and furnished their cabin, 
 and a stable, which they thatched with pine 
 boughs, for the horses and the cow, and which 
 
THE YOUNG HUNTER S FIRST WILD TURKEY. Page 36. 
 
BUILDING AND CLEARING. 37 
 
 they located but a few yards from the house. 
 Adjoining the stable they built a crib, in which 
 to stow away their corn for the winter, after it 
 was harvested, and had commenced to form a 
 wood-pile near the cabin, which should consti 
 tute their stock of fuel for the winter. 
 
38 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SETTLEMENT. 
 
 LITTLE Thomas had taken the cattle out 
 to graze, one morning, and half an hour after 
 his departure he came running back at full 
 speed. 
 
 " Father, father," he shouted, " come see 
 the big cow that s down at the creek. Come 
 quick ! " 
 
 Mr. Oxenford took down his rifle from the 
 bracket on the wall, and, following the little 
 fellow, who was eager to act as guide, has 
 tened down to the creek. As he came in sight 
 of it, he saw a large buffalo drinking at the 
 water s edge. The animal was utterly uncon 
 scious of the presence of a human being, and 
 was drinking leisurely. Mr. Oxenford had 
 suspected the nature of the stranger as soon 
 as his son had called it a cow, and he was 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 39 
 
 eager to secure the prize. Bidding Thomas 
 conceal himself behind a tree, and keep very 
 still, he crept cautiously towards the animal, 
 until he came within easy range of it. Then, 
 taking his position where he could see without 
 being seen by the beast, he prepared to take 
 advantage of its movements. The buffalo, 
 however, seemed in no hurry ; for when he 
 had finished drinking, he walked into the 
 creek a little way, and stood with the water 
 reaching to his keees, as if to cool his legs 
 and hoofs, for the day was warm. Mr. Oxen- 
 ford feared he would continue his course, swim 
 the creek, and thus escape him ; but this fear 
 was soon dispelled, for the animal turned 
 quietly, and came back to the shore. Paus 
 ing there for a moment, he lowered his head 
 to cross the fresh grass that grew close to the 
 water. Now was the hunter s opportunity, 
 and, aiming his rifle carefully, Mr. Oxenford 
 fired. The ball struck the buffalo just back 
 of the ear, and the huge animal fell over on 
 his side, struggling feebly, and trying to rise. 
 
40 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 The next moment Mr. Oxenford had drawn his 
 hunting-knife across its throat, making a deep 
 gash from ear to ear, from which the blood 
 gushed in a perfect stream. The buffalo 
 ceased his struggles, and, with a spasmodic 
 quiver, fell back dead. He was a huge ani 
 mal, and would have been worth a small for 
 tune to a butcher in these modern days of high 
 prices ; and Mr. Oxenford resolved that he 
 would get the full value of the brute. 
 
 Going back to the cabin, he removed his 
 outer garments, that he might not soil them, 
 and took the largest tin pail, and the hatchet, 
 which he meant to use in place of a cleaver, 
 and, calling John to help him, went back to 
 the spot where he had left the buffalo. The 
 father and son were novices in the task before 
 them ; but they went at it with a determina 
 tion that made up for their lack of practice, 
 and by sunset they had stripped the animal of 
 his hide, and had cut off all the meat that they 
 could use for the present, and a large quantity 
 that they designed for curing. The hide and 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 4! 
 
 horns were carefully washed and put away, 
 and the remains of the animal were cast into 
 the creek, where they either sank from sight 
 or floated away on the current. They had a 
 fine breakfast and dinner the next day on 
 "Tom s cow," as they called it; and what could 
 not be kept for use next day and this was 
 fully nine tenths of the meat was suspended 
 from a young sapling over a smoke made by 
 a quantity of green hickory chips being heaped 
 on a slow fire. This process of curing was 
 very simple and easily performed, and by 
 means of it they were able to preserve their 
 meat for use whenever they needed it. In this 
 same way they cured much venison during 
 the year. 
 
 It lacked but four weeks until the harvest 
 ing season, when a trouble, which had not 
 been foreseen, occurred. 
 
 "Thomas," said Mrs. Oxenford, one day, 
 her face wearing a graver look than it had 
 ever worn, "what shall we do for bread? Our 
 corn-meal is gone, and we can get no more 
 until the harvest." 
 
42 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 "We ll have to live on meat until then, old 
 lady," said her husband, cheerily. "W ve got 
 a plenty of that, I am glad to know, and 
 there s no danger of our starving." 
 
 Those of my readers who have never been 
 compelled to go without bread can hardly tell 
 what it is to be deprived of it. The Oxenfords 
 were not slow in finding out that it was in 
 deed the " staff of life." After living on meat 
 alone for several days, it became sickening and 
 distasteful to them, and at the end of a week 
 they became sickly. Their stomachs were 
 always uncomfortable ; that is, they had a feel 
 ing of emptiness, and were, always tormented 
 by a sensation of hunger. John, who always 
 tried to make the best of their troubles, called 
 the lean breast of the wild turkey bread, and 
 the other flesh, such as venison and dried 
 beef, meat ; but though they tried to be satis 
 fied with the substitute, none of them could 
 fully withstand the consequences of the ab 
 sence of the real bread. How anxiously they 
 watched the cornfield and the little garden for 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 43 
 
 the first roasting ears and vegetables ! and 
 what a jubilee they had when John brought 
 in the first ear of young corn, and his father 
 said they would now have roasting ears and 
 boiled corn until the harvest came ! This was 
 an improvement on their previous situation, 
 and was, soon followed by the ripening of the 
 vegetables in the garden. Every one began 
 to grow strong and vigorous again. 
 
 As the harvest drew near, a new difficulty 
 presented itself to the family. They would 
 have plenty of corn ; but how were they to 
 convert it into meal? This question was soon 
 settled by Mrs. Oxenford, who suggested a 
 plan which afterwards was put into execution. 
 Taking one of the tin pails, Mr. Oxenford, 
 at his wife s suggestion, carefully removed 
 the bottom, and then, cutting the side of the 
 remainder, he laid the sheet of tin out flat 
 on a board, and by means of a punch cut a 
 number of holes in the sheet. In this way 
 he made a sort of rude grater, and bending it 
 to a semicircular form, he nailed it to a block 
 
44 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 of wood with bits of nails made from the wire 
 which had formed the handle of the pail. Af 
 ter the harvest was gathered in, this primitive 
 mill was tried, and it was found to answer tol 
 erably well. The corn was taken in the ear, 
 and rubbed over the rough side of the grater, 
 and was thus grated to a fineness sufficient for 
 the manufacture of johnny-cakes an$ coarse 
 pones, or pieces of corn-bread worked and 
 shaped with the hands. The meal made by 
 the use of this grater was not as fine as that 
 they had brought with them from the old 
 colony ; but still it was meal, and gave them 
 bread. 
 
 The harvest was gathered in in due time, 
 and it was bountiful, proving far more than 
 would be sufficient for the family until the next 
 season. The corn was husked and piled up 
 in the "crib," which barely held it, and the 
 potatoes were stowed away, when gathered, 
 in a cellar which was dug near the house. 
 The fodder was stacked close by the stable, 
 and this, with the corn-husks, gave the assur- 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 45 
 
 ance of a plentiful supply of provender for 
 the cattle, and there remained nothing but to 
 prepare the wood-pile for the winter; and by 
 the time the cold weather had fairly set in, 
 this, too, was accomplished. So, one bright 
 autumn morning, when the harvest was in, and 
 everything was in readiness for the long win 
 ter which was coming, Mr. Oxenford declared 
 they would devote one day to rest from all 
 labor, and make it the occasion for returning 
 thanks to the Almighty for the blessings he 
 had showered upon them. This was done, 
 and it was the first " Thanksgiving Day " ob 
 served on the banks of the Ohio. They had 
 everything to be thankful for. The Lord s 
 hand had led them to one of the most desira 
 ble portions of the west, and had kept them 
 safely ever since. There had been no sickness 
 in their midst, and they had been called upon 
 to endure only the ordinary hardships of the 
 settler s life. They had been successful in all 
 their undertakings, and were now in a condi 
 tion to look forward to the winter without 
 dreading it. 
 
46 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Thomas Oxenford was especially grateful. 
 At the beginning of the spring he was with 
 out a home for his family, and the owner of 
 but a little over seventy pounds sterling. Now 
 he had made a home for his little flock, and 
 was the proprietor of four hundred acres of 
 the land surrounding his cabin, which was 
 the freehold given by the laws^f the colony 
 to every settler who should build a house and 
 raise a crop of grain on any unoccupied land 
 west of the Allegheny Mountains. Besides 
 this, his act of settlement gave him a pre-emp 
 tion right to one thousand acres more of the 
 adjoining land ; and all that remained for him 
 to do was to fix upon the boundaries of his 
 land, so as to avoid difficulties with the settlers 
 who might follow him. It was true that this 
 land had yet to be cleared up and cultivated, 
 and that this involved much toil and hardship 
 for his family ; but still they had a home, and 
 the certainty of making a livelihood, however 
 plain and humble it might be. 
 
 The "Thanksgiving Day" was drawing to 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 47 
 
 a close, and the little family were gathered 
 around their evening meal, for this was al 
 ways served before dark in those days, when 
 they were startled by a loud " halloo " from 
 without. It had been so long since they had 
 heard any human voices but their own, that 
 they started to their feet in alarm, and rushed 
 to the door. Their astonishment was complete 
 when they saw, standing a few yards from 
 them, a party of men, women, and children 
 and seven or eight horses, loaded with goods 
 of various kinds. The sight was so novel and 
 unexpected that both parties stared at each 
 other for some moments in silence. At last 
 Mr. Oxenford went forward, and, greeting the 
 new comers cordially, for he was glad to see 
 some of his own species besides his family after 
 so long an absence from them, asked, 
 
 "Well, my friends, what are you doing 
 here?" 
 
 " We came here to settle, stranger," said 
 one of the men; "but it seems you ve got 
 ahead of us." 
 
48 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 " There s land enough for all of us, and 
 many more," said Mr. Oxenford, laughing, in 
 spite of himself, at the* disappointment evinced 
 by the man. " You shall all stay here with 
 us to-night, and to-morrow we ll see what we 
 can do." 
 
 The new comers were emigrants from the 
 upper portion of Maryland and Virginia, and 
 consisted of four families, numbering in all 
 about twenty-six people, of whom ten were 
 men and half-grown boys. The heads of these 
 families were people in the prime of life, the 
 very best material for pioneers, and there 
 were no very young children in the party. 
 They had met by accident while crossing the 
 mountains, and had concluded to cast their 
 lot together, rather than separate, thinking 
 rightly that they could accomplish more by 
 united than by independent exertions. They 
 had supposed they were the first who had pen 
 etrated this region, until they saw the clear 
 ing and cabin of Mr. Oxenford, and were 
 astonished to find such deep traces of civil- 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 49 
 
 ization where they expected to see nothing 
 but the wilderness, and they, were profuse 
 in their praise of the settlers industry and 
 energy. They, brought with them an abun 
 dance of provisions, and among other things 
 had a large quantity of salt, which they 
 agreed to share with the Oxenfords for a sup 
 ply of their corn. 
 
 The women and youngest children were 
 made comfortable in the cabin during the 
 night, and the male portion of the little com 
 munity encamped in the yard, for the weather 
 was still sufficiently mild and favorable for 
 them to do so. The new comers had just left 
 the older -colonies, and they had an abundance 
 of news to communicate. The troubles with 
 the mother country were then agitating the 
 new world, and the emigrants were loud in 
 their denunciation of the course pursued by 
 Great Britain. One family had come from the 
 neighborhood in which the Oxenfords had 
 lived, and were able to tell them about their 
 friends east of the mountains. The night was 
 
 4 
 
50 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 far spent when they sought their beds, and 
 each felt grateful to Providence for having 
 drawn them together. 
 
 The next morning they were up early, and, 
 breakfast over, the heads of the different fami 
 lies assembled with Mr. Oxenford to consult 
 as to their future movements. It was agreed 
 that it was impossible for any one to cultivate 
 all the land to which he was entitled, and that 
 it would be better for them to unite in clearing 
 up a number of acres, and cultivate that in 
 common until they were fairly settled. They 
 could lay off their lands, and after they had 
 thoroughly arranged their settlement they could 
 divide the* land and cultivate it separately. 
 This arrangement would be in force for about 
 one or two years, and should their settlement 
 be increased in the mean while by the addition 
 of other emigrants, they could pursue a similar 
 plan towards them. Acting upon this conclu 
 sion, they at once proceeded to lay off their 
 lands ; and as they were all practical farmers, 
 they succeeded in forming a proximate idea of 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 5! 
 
 the quantity of land necessary to make up four 
 hundred acres to each man. They wisely 
 determined that their farms should have a 
 narrow frontage on the creek, which would 
 bring them nearer together, and that their 
 length should be the longer line of boundary. 
 This mode of arrangement made the Oxen- 
 ford farm the centre of the little settlement, 
 and it was determined to cultivate the creek 
 line first. This would enable them to join 
 their fields to that commenced by Mr. Ox- 
 enford, and they could all cultivate them in 
 common. The sites chosen for their cabins 
 were all on the ridge upon which the original 
 settlers had built theirs, and were located at 
 such easy distances that the farthest on the 
 right and left hand the original cabin being 
 the centre was only half a mile from the 
 Oxenfords. The boundaries of the different 
 "claims," as they were called, were marked 
 by cutting the trees in a straight line for a 
 distance of half a mile back from the creek. 
 When these preliminaries were arranged, 
 
52 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 the settlers prepared to clear up their land for 
 building. Instead of working separately at 
 this, they decided to unite. Lots were then 
 drawn to determine whose house should be 
 built first, and, having settled this matter, all 
 turned in with a will, and commenced the 
 building. Mr. Oxenford and John lent a will 
 ing assistance in this work, and this made a 
 force of twelve workers. After the trees were 
 felled, and the logs prepared, it was found 
 that this force was too much for one cabin, 
 and it was divided into parties of six each, 
 and in this way two cabins were put up at 
 the same time. In a week all the cabins 
 were finished, and the little settlement had 
 begun to assume a thriving and spirited ap 
 pearance. The next week was given to build 
 ing the stables and such out-houses as were 
 necessary. The buildings were all situated 
 on the brow of the ridge that lay back at a 
 distance of several hundred yards from the 
 creek, and almost sixty yards from the woods. 
 They were all in sight of each other, and as 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 53 
 
 the new emigrants proved pleasant and indus- 
 triou$ people, Mr. Oxenford was glad that his 
 family would now have something to relieve 
 the loneliness that all of them were beginning 
 to feel. 
 
 Later in the season other families arrived at 
 the settlement, and most of these went over to 
 the south side of Fish Creek, where they 
 built their dwellings and cleared their land, 
 so that by the time the winter had fairly set 
 in, the settlement had increased to ten fami 
 lies, or, in all, to nearly sixty persons. 
 
 The Oxenfords had, during this time, done 
 much to improve their Condition . They had 
 made themselves comfortable by the addition 
 of a considerable amount of home-made furni 
 ture, which I am inclined to think my young- 
 readers would consider very uncomfortable. 
 After the harvest they had emptied their beds 
 of their fillings of leaves and grass, and had 
 replaced them with the soft, dry husks of the 
 corn. This made an excellent bed, and was 
 a great improvement upon the leaves. 
 
54 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 At last the cold weather set in. The win 
 ter is long and bleak in this portion of the 
 Ohio Valley, and it was fortunate that the 
 settlers had succeeded in making their prepa 
 rations to withstand it. The wood-piles now 
 became more valuable in the eyes of their 
 owners than they had ever supposed they 
 would be. Having their fuel cut and piled 
 at their doors, they were saved the trouble of 
 cutting and hauling it in the deep snows. 
 
 The first snow was a treat to the younger 
 members of the community, for, though they 
 were pioneers, they were still boys, and were 
 as fond of sport as any of those of the pres 
 ent day. John Oxenford was a great author 
 ity among them, though several of them were 
 older than he, for his mechanical skill and 
 ingenuity were greater than those of his fel 
 lows ; and when the snow came, he proposed 
 that they should make sledges at once, so 
 that they might have as much sport at coast 
 ing as they had enjoyed in their old homes. 
 The proposal was caught up eagerly, and in 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 55 
 
 spite of the cold and the blinding flakes, the 
 boys started out, hatchet in hand, to cut hick 
 ory saplings for runners, and by nightfall 
 they made full half a dozen sledges. They 
 were very rough, but they were strong, and 
 the hickory runners were scraped as smooth 
 as glass. I think the young people of to-day, 
 with their handsome "coasters," with brightly- 
 painted sides, cushioned seats, and steel run 
 ners, would consider these frontier sledges but 
 a sorry show ; but I doubt that they derive 
 any more enjoyment from their costly toys 
 than did these sturdy little pioneers with their 
 home-made substitutes. The next day the 
 snow ceased falling, and the clouds cleared 
 off, and with a shout the boys started for the 
 hill-side, where they were soon dashing down 
 the slope at a speed which made their 
 mothers who watched them from the cabin 
 doors tremble for their limbs ; but nobody 
 was hurt. The boys had their fun. The 
 sledges were stout, and well made, and there 
 were no broken bones to mend. A few bruises 
 
56 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 were gotten by some, but they were nothing. 
 And then, such fun as the youngsters had 
 with their snow-balls ! It was a real treat to 
 see them. 
 
 " Now, fellows," said John Oxenford, when 
 the snow was gone, "we must get our traps 
 ready for the next snow-fall. There ll be lots 
 of rabbits about, and they ll come in very 
 handy, father says." 
 
 So it was arranged ; and when the ground 
 was white again with the soft flakes, the traps 
 were set. The first day passed away without 
 success. Big Dan Whittaker, the son of one 
 of the settlers, was the first to catch a rabbit, 
 and the boys were wild with delight. There 
 was no envy of Dan s success among the 
 little fellows. Boys are slow to grudge each 
 other a triumph fairly won. Every one liked 
 Dan, for, awkward and overgrown as he was, 
 he was the very impersonation of generos 
 ity and good nature. He was John Oxen- 
 ford s sworn friend, and the two were insepa 
 rable. They were like David and Jonathan, 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 57 
 
 and I am sure Dan would have risked his 
 life, willingly, to do John a service, and John 
 was equally as devoted. If one made a paw 
 paw whistle, or found a lot of ripe nuts, he 
 was sure to make a similar provision for the 
 other; and wherever you saw one, you might 
 be sure the other was close at hand. 
 
 During the winter, the supply of salt was 
 found to be running low, and it became neces 
 sary to send to the settlement at Wheeling, 
 about twenty-five miles higher up the Ohio 
 River, for more. Mr. Oxenford and Mr. 
 Brady were chosen to go after it, and they 
 set out about the middle of January, taking- 
 advantage of a temporary absence of snow. 
 They reached the little hamlet of Wheeling, 
 which had been settled a few years before, 
 about dark on the day after their departure 
 from Fish Creek. They found the place full 
 of rumors of trouble with the Indians. It was 
 said that the governor of the colony, Lord 
 Dunmore, was bent upon destroying the 
 savages as soon as the weather should be 
 
58 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 favorable enough for the movement of the 
 troops. This news filled Mr. Oxenford with 
 grave uneasiness, and he sought an interview 
 with the officer in command of Fort Fincastle, 
 which was the name given to the work 
 afterwards known as Fort Henry that had 
 been erected for the defence of the village. 
 He explained to the commandant the exposed 
 situation of the settlement on Fish Creek, and 
 asked his advice as to the best course to be 
 pursued by himself and his neighbors. 
 
 Colonel Shepherd, the commandant of the 
 fort, informed him that the rumors he had 
 heard were, unfortunately, true, and that there 
 was no doubt that the Indians would cause 
 considerable trouble on the frontier in the 
 spring, if, indeed, they did not do so before 
 the close of the winter. He advised Mr. Ox 
 enford to urge upon his neighbors the pro 
 priety of establishing some means of defence, 
 such as the building of a fort or stockade, 
 and as a means of assisting him in this under 
 taking, the colonel carried him over the work 
 
THE SETTLEMENT. 59 
 
 under his command, and gave him some 
 general ideas upon the subject. The colonel 
 was an old soldier, and had seen service in 
 the French wars, and his opinions were of 
 value to the settlers, who determined that they 
 would spare no effort to urge them upon their 
 neighbors. 
 
 The salt was obtained at a reasonable sum, 
 and the next day the two settlers returned 
 to Fish Creek, which they reached about 
 nightfall. 
 
60 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE FORT. 
 
 THE morning after the return of the two 
 settlers from Wheeling, a meeting of all the 
 adult males in the little settlement was held at 
 Mr. Oxenford s cabin, and that gentleman re 
 vealed to his neighbors the information he had 
 received from Colonel Shepherd. Since their 
 arrival at Fish Creek they had seen no one from 
 the other settlements, and were in total igno 
 rance of the condition of affairs in the rest of 
 the country. They had been unmolested by 
 the Indians, not one of whom had appeared at 
 the settlement, and could hardly believe the 
 truth of Colonel Shepherd s statement, that the 
 savages were becoming very troublesome on 
 the border. Still, they agreed that it would be 
 most prudent to take some measure of a de 
 fensive nature, and it was finally determined to 
 
THE FORT. 6 1 
 
 erect a fort for the protection of their families. 
 This was an undertaking which would require 
 some little time, and it was decided to com 
 mence it at once. The weather was clear and 
 cold, and the ground was free from snow, so 
 that, by exerting themselves, they might at least 
 get through with a portion of the work before the 
 next fall of snow ; and as Mr. Oxenford and Mr. 
 Brady had seen the fort at Wheeling, they were 
 appointed to superintend the construction of 
 the fortification. These deliberations occupied 
 about two hours of the morning, and as soon 
 as they were ended, the work was begun. 
 
 The first thing was to lay off the ground on 
 which the fort was to be built. The object 
 being to establish a place of refuge in times of 
 danger, the location would have to be conven 
 ient to all parts of the settlement, and therefore 
 it was decided to erect the work as nearly in 
 the centre of the little hamlet as possible. This 
 would make it convenient to the settlers south 
 of the creek, as well as to those north of the 
 stream. The site chosen was about fifty yards 
 
62 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 west of the Oxenfords cabin, and about seven 
 ty yards from the woods. It was the highest 
 point of the settlement, and commanded a view 
 of the entire neighborhood. It was but a few 
 yards from the spring which supplied the set 
 tlers with water, and was believed to be the 
 best defensive position that could be selected. 
 The younger boys were set to clearing off the 
 ground, and the men and older boys at once 
 went into the woods to cut the logs necessary 
 for the fort. An entire week was spent in cut 
 ting and hauling the logs, during which time 
 there was a slight flurry of snow, but not 
 enough to suspend the efforts of the workmen. 
 The next week the ground was staked off, and 
 the building was begun in earnest. 
 
 If my readers are under the impression that 
 the settlers at Fish Creek were about to at 
 tempt the construction of such a " fort " as those 
 of us who saw anything of our late war, or 
 who have seen the massive works which pro 
 tect our sea-coast, are familiar with, they are 
 very much mistaken. A frontier fort was merely 
 
THE FORT. 63 
 
 a stockade ; and as the savages had no weapons 
 but rifles, this was found amply sufficient for 
 the defence of the pioneers. 
 
 The fort at Fish Creek was built upon the 
 plan generally adopted along the border. It 
 was a square in shape, with a block-house at 
 each corner. A row of five cabins was built 
 on the west side, and a similar row on the 
 east side ; and as it was probable that the 
 settlement might be increased, or that settlers 
 in the neighborhood might seek shelter in the 
 fort, it was decided to erect a row of cabins 
 on the north side, while the south side was 
 fitted up as a row of stables for the stock. The 
 outer walls of these buildings were constructed 
 of heavy logs, in the same manner that the 
 dwellings in the settlement were built, except 
 that the chinks, after being filled up with mud, 
 were covered with stout oaken boards, in order 
 to make them bullet-proof. The walls were 
 twelve feet high on the exterior, and the roofs 
 sloped inward. The floors of the cabins were 
 made of slabs, and the chimneys of rocks and 
 
64 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 mud. At each corner of the square formed by 
 the rows of cabins, a strong tower, or block 
 house, was built of the heaviest logs. These 
 block-houses were two stories in height, and 
 projected about three feet beyond the outer 
 walls of the cabins. The second story was 
 eighteen inches larger in length and width than 
 the first story, and that part of the floor which 
 extended over the lower wall was pierced for 
 firing through it, in order to prevent the enemy 
 from getting close under the sides of the fort, 
 and thus avoiding the fire of the garrison , t The 
 sides of the block-houses and the outer walls 
 of the cabins were pierced with loop-holes at 
 the proper height, and at a distance of five 
 feet apart in the cabins, and two feet in the 
 block-houses. On the south side, and just op 
 posite the spring, the gate wa,s placed. It 
 was made of heavy slabs, firmly pinned to 
 gether, and was secured in its place by stout 
 bars of wood. The entrance was large enough 
 to allow the passage with ease of three horses 
 abreast, and the gate was double, or "fold- 
 
THE FORT. 65 
 
 ing." The stables were also loop-holed, and 
 every precaution taken to enable a heavy fire to 
 be directed against any party that should try to 
 break in the gate. In the centre of the en 
 closure thus made, a large log building, which 
 was properly a double cabin, was erected. 
 This was intended to serve as a storehouse, 
 and was also made bullet-proof and loop-holed, 
 so that it might serve as a kind of citadel to 
 the garrison, in case the enemy should succeed 
 in overcoming the outer defences. The cabins 
 were separated from each other by partitions 
 of logs, so that each family should have its 
 own house, and maintain its separate estab 
 lishment. After the fort was completed, it was 
 decided to dig a well in the enclosure, so that the 
 garrison, during a siege, might not be deprived 
 of water; and this was done in the spring, 
 after the frost had gone out of the ground. 
 
 It took seven weeks of hard labor to build 
 the fort, but it was finished by the second week 
 in March, 1774. The work was done faith 
 fully, for the settlers said they meant to make 
 
 5 
 
66 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 their fort impregnable to any attack from the 
 savages, as the work was worth doing well, 
 if it was worth doing at all. The whole fort 
 covered an area about one hundred and five 
 feet square, and it was as strong as the skill 
 of the builders could make it. Their efforts 
 had been stimulated .by a warning which had 
 been sent them from Fort Fincastle, at Wheel 
 ing, that matters were growing worse every 
 day, and that they had better be on the watch 
 for a visit from the Indians at any moment. 
 They were not disturbed, however, and the 
 fort was ready at last. The next week was 
 passed in providing it with stores of various 
 kinds. A large wood-pile was formed in the 
 yard, to provide fuel during a siege, and each 
 member of the little community contributed a 
 portion of his provisions and ammunition, so 
 that there should be a supply in the storehouse 
 capable of sustaining the settlers, who should 
 take refuge in the fort, for at least a week. 
 These things were placed in the storehouse, 
 and it was understood that no one was to touch 
 
THE FORT. 67 
 
 them without the consent of the person who 
 should be placed in charge of the fort. There 
 were more cabins than were needed for the use 
 of the settlers then present, and, in order to 
 prevent confusion when it should be necessary 
 to occupy the fort, the cabins were assigned to 
 the various families by drawing lots for them. 
 
 The last thing done was the election of a 
 commanding officer for the fort, and the choice 
 fell upon Mr. Oxenford, who was thenceforth 
 styled " Captain." It was decided that the cap 
 tain should abandon his former dwelling, and 
 take up his quarters in the fort, as it was ne 
 cessary that some one should occupy the work, 
 and thus have it prepared for any surprise on 
 the part of the savages ; and it was not prac 
 ticable that the whole community should dwell 
 in it all the time. In consideration of this, 
 Captain Oxenford was allowed to occupy one 
 of the block-houses, and a cabin adjoining it, 
 which he was permitted to fit up with the 
 
 
 
 greatest degree of comfort consistent with the 
 defensive nature of the building. The settlers 
 
68 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 then pledged their honor to render to their 
 commander the strictest obedience, and it was 
 agreed that all cases of disobedience in time 
 of actual war with the savages should be pun 
 ished by a fine of twenty bushels of corn, to be 
 added to the supplies in the storehouse, and in 
 times of peace with the savages the fine was 
 to be ten bushels of corn. During hostilities 
 the captain s will was to be the law of the set 
 tlement, from which there was to be no appeal ; 
 but in times of peace, an appeal might be had 
 from him to a jury of four settlers, two to be 
 selected by him, and two by the person making 
 the appeal. 
 
 After his selection for the command of the 
 fort, Captain Oxenford prepared to remove his 
 family to their new home. He and John, with 
 the assistance of Dan Whittaker and another 
 neighbor, transferred the flooring and the great 
 er part of the work on his cabin to the fort, 
 and in a few days they had made the block 
 house and cabin as snug as they were able. 
 Then the family moved in, and took posses- 
 
THE FORT. 69 
 
 sion. They had more room by this arrange 
 ment than they had formerly, as the block-house 
 was two stories high. They fastened pieces 
 of plank over the loop-holes to keep out the 
 cold and wind, arranging the coverings so that 
 they could be removed at a moment s notice. 
 They continued to use their old stable and 
 other out-houses. The cabin they had occupied 
 as a dwelling was simply closed up. Captain 
 Oxenford said it had better remain there, as 
 it might be useful at some time. 
 
 By the time all these things were arranged 
 the spring had fairly opened, and the settlers 
 commenced to prepare for planting their corn 
 and potatoes, and making their gardens. Two 
 or three hunters arrived at the settlement about 
 this time, and were assigned one of the cabins 
 in the fort, upon the condition that they should 
 do their part towards providing the fort with 
 a supply of meat. They did nothing towards 
 tilling the land, as they .were constantly roam 
 ing the woods ; but they paid for their living 
 by supplying the various families with game. 
 
7O PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 They were a wild, rough set, but generous 
 and kinct-hearted. They were old Indian-fight 
 ers, too ; and, as the country was on the eve 
 of a war with the savages, the settlers were 
 glad to have these men with them, as their 
 experience in border warfare would, no doubt, 
 be useful to them. 
 
 As I have said, those who had settled on 
 the north shore of the creek cultivated their 
 land in common, and divided the corn crop 
 and the fodder. This proved an excellent 
 plan, as it enabled them to work a large 
 amount of land, and, as the harvest showed, 
 to make a very heavy crop. Every one 
 worked hard this spring, for all felt that, as 
 the Indians might interfere with them the next 
 season, it was necessary to raise as much corn 
 as possible. 
 
 One morning John was sent from the " bot 
 tom," where all hands were at work, to get 
 something which his father had left in the loft 
 of his old cabin. He hurried to the building, 
 ascended to the loft, and soon found the article 
 
THE FORT. 71 
 
 he had been sent for. As he was about to 
 descend, he heard the sound of a heavy foot 
 fall in the room below. He called to know 
 what was wanted ; but as no one answered, 
 he went to the opening in the floor through 
 which he had ascended to the loft, and looked 
 down. To his surprise and alarm, he saw a 
 large black bear, sitting on its haunches, and 
 gazing cunningly towards the loft. The ani 
 mal had heard the boy when he called out, 
 and had prepared himself to await his descent. 
 He was a powerful-looking monster; and as 
 he saw the boy at the opening in the floor, he 
 uttered a low growl, and licked his huge jaws 
 with his bright-red tongue, in a manner that 
 made John s blood run cold. 
 
 John Oxenford was a brave boy, and, for 
 one of his age, was possessed of a remarka 
 ble degree of coolness and self-possession. 
 Though he was greatly alarmed at the immi 
 nence of his danger, his courage did not for 
 sake him. He knew it was vain to hope for 
 relief at once, for by crying out for aid he 
 
72 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 would anger the bear, who would doubtless 
 try to reach the loft. His only hope was to 
 keep the animal down until his father, or some 
 one else, should come to the cabin to learn the 
 cause of his delay. And even then, and the 
 boy shuddered to think of it, whosoever came 
 would be likely to fall a victim to the monster, 
 as no one but himself was aware of its pres 
 ence. He could not get out of the cabin ex 
 cept by the way he had entered it ; and as the 
 bear made that an impossibility, there was no 
 way by which he could alarm the settlers. 
 It was a desperate situation ; and, following 
 his first impulse, John lifted up his heart to 
 God, and prayed for deliverance from his 
 danger. All the while he kept his eyes on the 
 bear, watching with the most intense anxiety 
 the animal s every movement. Bruin, how 
 ever, seemed very sure in his own mind that 
 he would make his dinner on the boy, and sat 
 motionless watching him, and uttering low 
 growls of satisfaction. 
 
 The ladder, by means of which John had 
 
THE FORT. 73 
 
 climbed into the loft, was made of two oak 
 saplings, with rounds of the same kind of 
 wood fastened into auger holes in the sap 
 lings. It rested loosely against the loft, and, 
 as he feared the animal might climb up to him 
 by means of it, John resolved to throw it down 
 into the room below. The bear watched him 
 narrowly, as if half suspecting his intention ; 
 and, with his heart beating so violently as 
 almost to suffocate him, John moved back 
 cautiously, and, seizing the ladder with both 
 hands, pushed it slowly and noiselessly along 
 the ground below him, until the top barely 
 rested against the loft. One more vigorous 
 push would have sent the ladder clattering to 
 the earthen floor ; but with a sharp growl, the 
 bear at this instant sprang at the rounds, and 
 commenced to mount them. John pushed the 
 saplings with all his might; but the weight 
 of the bear was too much for him, and he 
 could not move the ladder an inch. The mon 
 ster came nearer, nearer, and the next moment 
 he would be in the loft. John could feel his 
 
74 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 hot breath, as he struggled awkwardly up the 
 ladder, and he almost fainted with terror and 
 despair. The next moment, however, there 
 was a crash, and the saplings, which had 
 never been designed to withstand such a severe 
 test, broke under the bear s enormous weight, 
 and Bruin and the remnants of the ladder fell 
 heavily to the ground below. The animal lay 
 flat on his back for a moment, looking up at 
 the loft with an expression of bewilderment, at 
 which John, in spite of his alarm, burst into 
 a laugh. Then springing to his feet, the bear 
 uttered a growl of rage, and commenced to 
 run around the room, as if seeking some other 
 means of getting at the boy. John had no 
 weapon but his hunting-knife, which, with boy 
 ish pride, he always wore ; and he took this out 
 now, resolved that if the bear did reach the 
 loft, he would sell his life as dearly as possible. 
 At this moment his feet struck against some 
 thing hard, and, stooping down, he picked up 
 a stout club he had put there some time before 
 to season. He felt sure he could give Bruin 
 
THE FORT. 75 
 
 some hard knocks with this, and he clutched 
 it resolutely, and watched his enemy. 
 
 The bear had now paused in his walk, and 
 was looking up at the loft with a puzzled ex 
 pression. Suddenly he walked over to the 
 opposite side of the cabin, and, running swiftly 
 towards the opening, sprang into the air to 
 wards the left, and tried to catch the floor with 
 his paws. He was unsuccessful, however, and 
 fell back upon the floor with a growl. 
 
 "O, ho, my fine fellow!" said John; "that s 
 your game is it? I think I can teach you 
 a trick worth two of that." 
 
 Grasping his cudgel in both hands, John 
 stood by the opening, waiting the bear s next 
 leap. It came soon, and this time Bruin s 
 head appeared in the opening on a level with 
 the floor of the loft, which he endeavored to 
 clutch with his claws. Had he been left to 
 himself, he would doubtless have succeeded ; 
 but at this instant John s cudgel came crashing 
 "down on the monster s head, almost stunning 
 him, and sending him down to the ground 
 
76 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 again. John uttered a shout of exultation, to 
 which the bear responded with a growl of 
 rage, and again the latter sprang at the loft. 
 This time he succeeded in fastening his claws 
 in the floor, and was trying to draw his im 
 mense body up after him, when John, dropping 
 his club, and drawing his hunting-knife, drove 
 the weapon with all his force into the animal s 
 paw. The knife was as keen as a razor, and 
 the blow almost cut the paw from the arm , and 
 Bruin fell back to the ground terribly wounded, 
 and with the blood flowing freely from the cut. 
 Instead of disheartening him, however, his 
 wound made him furious, and he sprang again 
 at the loft, and with such force that it seemed 
 he would enter it. Another blow from John s 
 club sent him back to his starting-place, and 
 the boy answered his growls of fury with mock 
 ing laughter. Again and again Bruin essayed 
 the jumping process ; but each time John struck 
 him over the head with tremendous force, and 
 at length these blows began to tell even upon* 
 so thick a skull as that of the bear, who finally 
 
THE FORT. 77 
 
 lay still and panting on the ground, evidently 
 very much worsted by his antagonist. 
 
 John now received an unexpected reenforce- 
 ment. The cabin door was standing open, 
 and he saw enter through it the dog he had 
 brought from the Potomac. Carlo was a mag 
 nificent specimen of the mastiff breed, and had 
 always been a great pet with the whole family, 
 especially with John, who had taken the care 
 of him upon himself. The dog had evidently 
 been attracted by the growls of the bear, and 
 had come to learn for himself the cause of the 
 strange sounds. As he paused in the door 
 way, the bear sprang to his feet, and for a 
 moment the two animals gazed at each other. 
 Then, with an angry bark, Carlo sprang at the 
 bear, and Bruin made a dash at the dog. The 
 former had calculated his movements well, 
 and, eluding with great dexterity the blow 
 which the latter aimed at him with his paw, and 
 which would, no doubt, have stunned him, he 
 flew upon the bear, and seized him by the 
 throat, fastening his sharp fangs in the flesh, 
 
78 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 and making the monster roar with pain. The 
 bear now, finding himself at a disadvantage, 
 clasped his antagonist around the body with 
 his huge paws, and hugged him with such 
 force that it seemed he would crush him, and 
 for several minutes it appeared doubtful who 
 would be victorious. 
 
 Since the arrival of the dog, John had 
 watched the scene below him with intense in 
 terest. He knew that Carlo would make a 
 good fight, and he was anxious to escape from 
 his dangerous situation. When he saw Carlo 
 seize Bruin by the throat, he knew that the lat 
 ter would have as much as he could do to shake 
 him off, and he prepared to make his escape 
 from the cabin, The next instant, however, 
 he saw the monster clasp the dog in his arms, 
 and heard poor Carlo, who still held the bear 
 by the throat, utter a faint howl of agony. 
 This decided the boy s course. Not even to 
 save his own life would he abandon his pet to 
 the bear. Throwing his club down, and grasp 
 ing his knife firmly, he sprang down through 
 
THE FORT. 79 
 
 the opening to the ground below. As he did 
 so, the bear glared at him with his red, fiend 
 ish-looking eyes, and strained the dog closer 
 to him, as if to make short work of him. John 
 picked up his club, and, swinging it in the air, 
 brought it down vigorously upon the bear s 
 skull, repeating his blows with such force and 
 celerity that Bruin roared with rage and pain. 
 He relaxed his hold upon the dog, and struck 
 at John furiously with his wounded paw ; but 
 the dog held him fast by the throat, and John 
 skilfully avoided the animal s blows. The 
 cabin now resounded with the howls of the 
 bear, and the boy felt sure that this unusual 
 noise must soon bring assistance, and he re 
 doubled his blows, holding his hunting-knife 
 between his teeth all the time, so that it might 
 be ready for use at any moment. 
 
 The bear struggled violently to get away 
 from the dog and seize the boy, and suddenly 
 gave the cudgel a wrench with his paw, tore 
 it from John s hand, and hurled it across the 
 cabin. This was done with such force that it 
 
80 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 threw the boy off his balance, and before he 
 recovered it, the bear seized him with his 
 wounded paw, and hugged him violently. 
 He now had both the boy and the dog in his 
 arms, and he strained them to him with a ter 
 rible force. Carlo still kept his teeth fastened 
 in the bear s neck, and John", whose right hand 
 was free, managed to get his knife in his grasp, 
 and with it he struck the monster repeated 
 blows in the face and neck, bringing the blood 
 at every blow. The struggle went on in this 
 way for fully five minutes longer, and each 
 moment seemed to the boy like an age. The 
 yells of the bear resounded through the cabin, 
 and the blood was flowing from him in half a 
 dozen places ; but his immense strength began 
 to tell powerfully in his favor. John felt him 
 self growing fainter every moment, and it 
 seemed that his huge antagonist would win the 
 victory, after all. The pressure of the animal s 
 paw around his body almost suffocated him, 
 and gradually his consciousness began to leave 
 him. He heard, or fancied he heard, a quick, 
 
THE FORT. 8 1 
 
 sharp report, like the crack of a rifle, and a 
 loud shout, and then all grew dark to him, and 
 he fainted. 
 
 When he recovered his consciousness he was 
 lying on the grass in front of the cabin, with his 
 head resting in his father s lap. Captain Oxen- 
 ford was chafing his hands, and trying to re 
 store him, while several of the neighbors were 
 looking on anxiously. Dan Whittaker, with his 
 rifle in one hand and a pail of water in the 
 other, was eagerly watching him, and when 
 he saw John open his eyes, he gave a loud 
 shout, and danced about for joy. John was 
 stiff and sore from his encounter with his 
 shaggy foe, and was also very much bruised 
 by the bear s embrace. Fortunately none of 
 his bones were broken, however. The neigh 
 bors carried him into the fort, and laid him 
 on his own bed ; and it was several days be 
 fore he was able to be up and at work again. 
 After they carried him into the fort, Dan told 
 him the result of the fight. The loud roars 
 of the monster had alarmed the settlers, and 
 6 
 
82 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 as Dan happened to be the nearest to the cabin, 
 he was the first to ascertain the cause of the 
 noises. Upon seeing his friend in such a des 
 perate" situation, he hurried to the fort, and 
 took down John s rifle. Without waiting to 
 answer Mrs. Oxenford s questions as to the 
 cause of his excitement, he rushed back to 
 the cabin, which he reached about the time 
 John fainted. It was but the work of a mo 
 ment to place the muzzle of his rifle right 
 against the animal s eye, and send a bullet 
 through his brain. The bear fell back dead, 
 and released his hold upon his victims. Just 
 then Captain Oxenford and the rest arrived, 
 and commenced their efforts to restore the 
 brave boy to consciousness. 
 
 The bear was an immense animal, and was 
 a rich prize. He had evidently come into the 
 settlement to satisfy his hunger, a very com 
 mon circumstance in those days, and both 
 John and his dog were very fortunate in escap 
 ing with their lives. John s story of his en 
 counter with Bruin was told modestly, but it 
 
THE FORT. 83 
 
 won him praise from all in the settlement ; and 
 one of the old hunters told him warmly that he 
 had "the true grit in him," and would do honor 
 to his name yet. Big Dan Whittaker was loud 
 in his praise, and was never tired of question 
 ing his friend about his exploit. He made light 
 of his own share in the affair ; but John never 
 forgot that it was Dan s presence of mind that 
 released him so soon from his dangerous posi 
 tion. 
 
 As the two boys had killed the bear, it was 
 divided between their families ; but these dis 
 tributed the meat through the whole settlement. 
 The skin was kept as a trophy ; and Mrs. 
 Oxenford made each of the boys a cap out of 
 it. They were very proud of these caps, as 
 they had good reason to be, and wore them 
 until they literally fell to pieces. 
 
84 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 
 
 THE spring and summer passed away, and 
 the fall, which is nowhere so lovely as in the 
 Ohio Valley, came in its turn. The settlers 
 had heard rumors of hostilities with the In 
 dians, but as yet they had seen none. Whether 
 the savages were in ignorance of the Fish 
 Creek settlement, or whether they had de 
 termined to spare it, no one could say ; but 
 the perfect immunity from danger which they 
 had enjoyed inclined the settlers to be a little 
 sceptical on the subject of the rumors which 
 reached them. Their doubts were removed, 
 however, .about the fifth of September, by a 
 message from Colonel Shepherd, at Fort Fin- 
 castle, to Captain Oxenford. The note from 
 the former officer informed the latter that Lord 
 Dunmore was marching towards the Ohio, with 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 85 
 
 an army, to crush the power of the savages, 
 and that orders had been received to put all 
 the frontier posts in a state of defence. The 
 colonel urged the captain to lose no time in 
 getting his neighbors into the fort. A num 
 ber of Indians had crossed the Ohio in the 
 neighborhood of Grove Creek, and it was well 
 to be prepared for the worst. The settlers 
 lower down the Ohio had already experienced 
 much trouble at the hands of the savages, and 
 it was impossible to tell when or where the 
 next blow would fall. The colonel said that 
 the governor of the colony, Lord Dunmore, 
 would soon be on the frontier with a strong 
 force, as he was already assembling his army 
 on the eastern slope of the Alleghenies, but 
 that until he did arrive the people must take 
 their defence into their own hands. 
 
 Colonel Shepherd s letter caused very great 
 anxiety in the settlement, and the statement 
 which he made was confirmed by the report 
 of one of the hunters, who announced that he 
 had on that day seen several Indians in the 
 
86 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 vicinity of the mouth of Fish Creek. It was 
 decided that the various families comprising 
 the little community should at once move into 
 the cabins assigned to them in the fort, and 
 that the grain and other crops, as soon as 
 harvested, should be stored in the unoccupied 
 cabins, so that they might not be exposed to 
 loss. These things were soon done ; the set 
 tlers moved into the fort, bringing with them 
 all their household goods and movable prop 
 erty ; the animals were quartered in the stables 
 provided for them on the south side of the fort ; 
 and in a short time everything was in w apple- 
 pie order." There was an abundance of food 
 in the storehouse, but as each family had its 
 own supplies, there was no necessity for touch 
 ing the general stock at present. 
 
 Captain Oxenford was very strict in enfor 
 cing the discipline which he established over the 
 fort. The settlers were required to go to their 
 work beyond the walls armed, and were in 
 structed to return to the fort upon the slightest 
 alarm. The gate was to be kept closed at all 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 87 
 
 times, and was to be placed in charge of a 
 sentinel both night and day. During the day 
 every one, except the younger children, was 
 to pass in and out at will, but at night no one 
 was to leave the fort without permission from 
 the captain. Every person was charged to ob 
 serve the utmost vigilance and prudence. The 
 hunters were to act as scouts ; and, for this 
 purpose, they alone had leave to go and come 
 at will at all hours. 
 
 By the time the harvest came, everything in 
 and about the fort was fully arranged, and it 
 presented a very thriving and busy appearance 
 with its ten families. The .harvest was gath 
 ered in as usual, and the crops belonging to 
 those who lived on the south side of the creek 
 were stored in the fort also. This being done, 
 the settlers began to lay in their usual supply 
 of game. 
 
 Thus the early autumn wore away, and still 
 no signs of the Indians were seen about the 
 settlement. The cattle had, up to this time, 
 been turned out to graze occasionally, and thus 
 far no harm had befallen them. 
 
88 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Towards the last of October, news came that 
 Lord Dunmore, who had really done more to 
 bring on the war, which is still called by his 
 name in the west, than any other living be 
 ing, had made peace with the savages ; but it 
 was a peace that few had any faith in. The 
 people at Fish Creek determined that they 
 would remain in the fort during the winter, 
 which was now close at hand, and return to 
 their old dwellings in the spring. 
 
 The cows were driven up regularly every 
 afternoon about four o clock, and this duty was 
 generally performed by the older boys. On 
 the day that the news of the peace came, it 
 was John Oxenford s turn to bring in the cattle. 
 This was never a very onerous task, as they 
 were generally but a short distance from the 
 fort. As he started"" off, John looked for Dan 
 Whittaker to accompany him, but Dan was 
 busy, and could not leave his work. 
 
 " Let me go with you, brother," said little 
 Thomas Oxenford. " I can drive the cows as 
 well as Dan Whittaker." 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 89 
 
 "Come along, then," said John. "You ll 
 soon have to bear your share of this work, 
 and you may as well begin now." 
 
 They passed out of the fort, and took their 
 way to the woods. About half a mile from 
 the settlement, and over the hill which lay 
 back of it, was a large meadow, which was 
 the favorite grazing-ground of the cattle, and 
 to that place the boys bent their steps. The 
 season was that delightful Indian summer 
 time, when the Ohio Valle}^ puts on its richest 
 lines of beauty, and when the fascination of its 
 scenery is greater than at any other period 
 of the year. The lads, young as they were, 
 were keenly alive to the beauty of the scene, 
 and they moved along leisurely, gazing upon 
 it in silence. They passed over the brow of 
 the hill and down the northern slope, and 
 reached the edge of the meadow. Just then 
 Thomas burst into a shout of. delight. 
 
 "Look, John," he cried, pointing to a large 
 tree, but a few feet from them "look at the 
 chestnuts ! Let us stop and gather some." 
 
pO PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 John felt that it would be wrong to stop for. 
 the nuts, as he had been ordered to bring in 
 the cows at once, but the temptation presented 
 by the tree, which was fairly loaded with the 
 delightful fruit, was too great for him ; so you 
 see, my dear reader, pioneer boys were quite 
 as apt to neglect business for pleasure as those 
 of the present day. John looked up at the 
 sun, which was still high in the heavens, and, 
 after a moment s hesitation, said, 
 
 " Come, Tom, we must be quick about it, 
 for we haven t got long to be here. You 
 know we must have the cows at the fort by 
 sunset." 
 
 " O, it will not take us long to get a few 
 nuts," said Tom. "We can fill our caps, and 
 take them along with us." 
 
 The boys then started for the tree. They 
 found a plenty of sticks on the ground, and 
 with these they brought down a large quantity 
 of the nuts, which were perfectly ripe, and as 
 sweet as they could desire. But, instead of 
 filling their caps, and proceeding in their search 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. pi 
 
 after the cows, they sat down on a log, and 
 commenced to eat the nuts. "They were so 
 much interested in this performance that they 
 were unconscious that the afternoon was pass 
 ing away rapidly. At last Tom sprang up, 
 and exclaimed, quickly, 
 
 " We ll catch it now, John. Yonder come 
 father and one of the neighbors ; and if father 
 finds us here, instead of looking after the cows, 
 he ll make us smoke for it." 
 
 John looked in the direction to which his 
 brother pointed, and saw two men approaching 
 them. The new-comers were dressed like the 
 settlers at the fort, and one of them carried 
 a bridle in his hand. The boys commenced 
 looking about very busily, and called the cows 
 with all their might, hoping, in this way to 
 disarm their father of his suspicions. In a 
 few minutes the strangers were near enough 
 for them to ascertain their true character, and 
 the boys, to their astonishment and alarm, 
 found that they were in the presence of two 
 large Indians. They were terribly frightened, 
 and started to run away. 
 
p2 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 "Stop, stop!" cried one of the savages, 
 sharply. " White boy run, Injun shoot. Injun 
 kill." 
 
 "Stop, Tom," said John ; "they will certainly 
 shoot us if we try to run away. We must go 
 back, and see what they want with us." 
 
 The boys then faced about, and walked 
 back hand in hand to where the Indians were 
 standing with their guns levelled at them. As 
 they came up, one of the men seized John by 
 the shoulder, and brandished his tomahawk 
 furiously over his head; but the boy looked 
 him in the face without flinching, and the 
 savage lowered his arm with a grunt of satis 
 faction. 
 
 " Ugh ! " he exclaimed, in his broken Eng 
 lish, "white boy no Traid. Be big chief some 
 day." 
 
 "Why should I be afraid of you?" asked 
 John, calmly. "I have never harmed you." 
 
 "Injun hate white man," said the warrior, 
 sharply. "Injun no hurt boy. Take him 
 home ; make him big chief." 
 
ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 93 
 
 The Indian then told the boys that he and 
 his companion were looking for horses, and 
 that they must go with them. They would 
 not hurt them as long as they submitted to 
 their fate, but if they offered the least resist 
 ance, or attempted to escape, they would kill 
 and scalp them. The savages, then started 
 off, and, taking a circuitous route over the 
 Fish Creek hills, continued their search after 
 horses. 
 
 Thomas was very much frightened by his 
 capture, and kept silence ; but John, whose 
 fertile brain had already marked out his line 
 of conduct for him, became quite talkative. 
 
 "I m glad you ve taken us," he said to the 
 Indian who coujd speak English, as they 
 walked along. "I don t want to live in a fort. 
 I want to be a warrior like you, and take 
 lots of scalps." 
 
 " Ugh ! " grunted the savage, pleased by the 
 compliment, and unsuspicious of the boy s 
 motive. 
 
 "Yes," said John, "I m tired of living in 
 
94 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 the fort. My father makes me work hard, 
 and beats me. He never lets me play like 
 other boys, but makes me work like a dog. 
 I want to go with you, and be a great hunter, 
 and a warrior, and live in the woods, and kill 
 deer, and wild turkeys, and buffaloes." 
 
 Thomas had listened to his brother in the 
 most profound astonishment. He knew John 
 was not speaking the truth, but he failed to 
 comprehend his motive for the deception ; so, 
 when the Indian was telling his companion 
 what John had said, the little fellow whispered 
 to his brother, reproachfully, 
 
 "O, John! you don t mean that do you?" 
 
 "Of course I don t," whispered John, in 
 reply. "You must let me c|o all the talking, 
 Tom, and mustn t contradict me. I ve got a 
 plan on foot, and I want to carry it out." 
 
 The Indian now turned to John, and told 
 him he was very glad to hear him talk so, 
 and that he and his companion would carry 
 him and his brother to their people, and make 
 Indians out of them, and that by the time they 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 95 
 
 were grown up they would have no white blood 
 in them. During the afternoon he became 
 very intimate with the lad, and gave him his 
 tomahawk to carry. Thomas, however, said 
 nothing, but kept close to his brother s side all 
 the way. 
 
 About sunset the Indians halted at a spring 
 in a hollow, about three miles from the fort. 
 They built a fire, and cooked their supper, 
 which they shared with the boys. John made 
 himself very useful in building the fire, and 
 getting water for his captors, and received 
 many grunts of satisfaction and approval from 
 them. One of them asked him if he knew 
 where they could find any horses ; but as he 
 thought it best to tell them the truth this time, 
 he answered that he did not think they would 
 be successful in their search, that the settlers 
 kept their horses up all the time, and never 
 allowed them to run out, for fear the Indians 
 might get them. 
 
 After the night had fairly set in, the savages 
 covered up the fire, and tied the boys hands. 
 
96 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 They then made them lie down together, and 
 placed a leather strap or thong over them, and 
 stretched themselves out upon the ends of the 
 strap one on each side of the boys. They 
 lay awake for a long time, laughing and talk 
 ing. John, who was a lively fellow, amused 
 his captors with a number of funny stories, 
 which made them laugh heartily. These 
 stories he told to the Indian who could speak 
 English, and that one, in his turn, related them 
 to his companion in their own tongue. 
 
 Poor little Thomas, utterly unable to under 
 stand his brother s motives for the part he was 
 playing, listened to him in silent indignation. 
 He was once or twice on the point of openly 
 reproaching him for turning against his friends ; 
 but, as John had told him to remain quiet, he 
 concluded that it was best for him to do so. 
 Still, he could not understand why John should 
 be so well pleased at their capture, or why he 
 should want to be an Indian ; and the more he 
 thought of it, the harder he found the attempt 
 to understand his brother s conduct. John soon 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 97 
 
 increased his perplexity ; for when the Indian, 
 who had been the spokesman, was engaged in 
 telling his companion a story John had just 
 told him, the boy whispered softly to his little 
 brother, 
 
 "I say, Tom, don t you go to sleep to-night. 
 Stay awake if you ever wish to see home 
 again ; and, above all things, hold your 
 tongue." 
 
 John Oxenford was merely carrying out a 
 plan which he had conceived immediately after 
 his capture. He had heard from the hunters 
 at the fort many a story of border warfare, 
 and as soon as he was made a prisoner he 
 resolved to escape. This was his reason for 
 telling his brother to say nothing, and let him 
 do all the talking ; and he had spent all the 
 afternoon in trying to make friends of the 
 savages, and lull their suspicions to rest. He 
 knew his brother would not understand his 
 motives for acting as he did, but he could not 
 tell him without revealing everything to the 
 Indian who could speak English, and in this 
 7 
 
98 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 way ruining their chance for escape. After 
 the savages tied him and made him lie down 
 for the night, his courage almost failed him. 
 The Indians, as I have said, had placejl their 
 leather strap over the boys, and were lying 
 upon the ends of it themselves, so that any 
 attempt on the part of the prisoners to get up 
 on their feet would move the strap and wake 
 their captors. The situation seemed hopeless 
 enough, but John determined to wait patiently 
 and see if something more favorable did not 
 happen ; and, as he always did in times of 
 danger and trouble, he prayed for "deliverance 
 from on high." After the Indians ceased talk 
 ing, he lay silently thinking over the plan he 
 had resolved upon. He believed that the In 
 dians had no fear of his trying to leave them, 
 as they had faith in the story he had told 
 them ; but how he should get out of their 
 power he could not tell. Something must be 
 done that night. He knew the spot where 
 they were resting, and could eastly find his 
 way back to the fort ; but the next day the 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 99 
 
 Indians would strike across the country towards 
 their own settlements, and even should they 
 succeed in escaping during the journey, there 
 was a strong probability of their being retaken 
 and killed, or of losing their way and dying 
 of starvation, or of wandering into an Indian 
 camp. The necessity, therefore, for doing 
 something that night, was imperative. 
 
 The boy s mind was busy with these thoughts, 
 but he knew that it was useless to make even 
 the slightest attempt as long as the Indians 
 were awake. The suspense in which he was 
 placed, was painful, and, in spite of the chilli 
 ness of the night, the thick sweat stood heavy 
 on his forehead. At last the heavy breathing 
 of the savages convinced him that they were 
 asleep ; but as he could not move without 
 awaking them, his situation was not bettered 
 by their unconsciousness. 
 
 The night was very chilly, and in about an 
 hour after the savages fell asleep, one of them, 
 becoming cold, lifted John in his arms, and 
 rolled him on the outside, settled himself in 
 
100 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 the boy s place, and was soon breathing 
 heavily again. This was just what the lad 
 wanted, but what he had not dared to hope 
 for. The Indian had put him where he could 
 move without disturbing the others, and had 
 not only removed the strap from him, but had 
 rolled off from it himself. Profiting by this, the 
 boy slowly and cautiously rolled away from his 
 companions, and commenced trying to undo 
 the thongs with which his hands were tied. 
 Fortunately for him, the Indians had not fas 
 tened him very securely. He worked slowly 
 and softly so slowly indeed, that it seemed 
 he would never free himself. Every motion 
 seemed to his excited imagination more violent 
 than was prudent, and he was tormented with 
 the fear that the Indians would suddenly 
 awake, and discover his attempt to escape. In 
 such a case he felt sure they would kill him. 
 The time wore away very slowly, but at length 
 he succeeded in removing his fetters, and, 
 rising gently to his feet, he looked around to 
 assure himself that all was well. 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITft TllE INDIANS, : IOI 
 
 The huge forms of the Indian s M/e^e tfrdSched 
 out at full length, and" their 1 "heav^, regular 
 breathing convinced him that they were still 
 sound asleep. Another glance showed him the 
 great round blue eyes of his little brother 
 Thomas, watching his movements with the 
 most intense eagerness. He placed his finger 
 warningly upon his lips to caution the little fel 
 low not to move or make any sound that might 
 disturb the savages, and then, stepping cau 
 tiously to his brother s side, he raised the strap 
 softly, and signed to the boy to get up on his 
 feet. The astonished Thomas obeyed him, and 
 John led him noiselessly a few feet away from 
 the sleepers, and commenced to untie his 
 hands. How their hearts throbbed as they 
 stood there in the dark woods, with danger and 
 death so near them ! The very sighing of the 
 night wind, the rustling of the leaves, and the 
 murmuring of the waters of the little stream 
 by which they had encamped, made them start 
 and tremble with fear. The slightest sound 
 might arouse their captors, and then, poor boys, 
 
IO?; FLA^TIJNG ;THE WILDERNESS, 
 
 rio>Ti!e ami , % mother s fk^e would never gladden 
 their eyes again. y 
 
 At last Tom s hands were freed, and the lit 
 tle fellow, intent only upon getting off safe, 
 whispered to his brother, . 
 
 "Come now, brother John, let us run home 
 as fast as we can." 
 
 John knew this would never do. Tom would 
 be sure to arouse the savages in attempting to 
 run away, and, as the little fellow had already 
 turned to put his proposal into execution, he 
 seized him firmly by the shoulder, and whis 
 pered to him, 
 
 " Don t run away yet, Tom. If you do, 
 you ll wake the Indians, and they ll be sure 
 to kill us. You mustn t stir yet, for we must 
 kill these Indians before we go." 
 
 "We are not big enough to kill them," said 
 Tom, trembling at the thought. 
 
 "We ve got it to do, or be killed our 
 selves," whispered John. "You must do your 
 share." 
 
 Tom looked at the great, stalwart warriors 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 1 03 
 
 that lay sleeping at his feet, and for the life of 
 him he could not see how two such boys as 
 they were could hope to prevail against them. 
 His brother whispered to him that they had no 
 time to lose, and, yielding to him, Tom ex 
 pressed his readiness to do what he could. 
 
 The plan upon which John determined would 
 have done credit to an old Indian hunter. It 
 exhibited an unusual degree of fertility of re 
 source, as well as the most determined cour 
 age. Stealing noiselessly up to the Indians, 
 he took one of their rifles, which was loaded 
 and primed, and, cocking it, placed it on a log, 
 with the muzzle only an inch or two from the 
 head of one of the sleepers. He then stationed 
 Tom at the breech of the weapon, and made 
 him put his finger on the trigger, and told him 
 to pull the trigger and shoot the savage, as soon 
 as he should strike the other. Then, stepping 
 back, he possessed himself of the Indian s tom 
 ahawk, having found that it would be impossi 
 ble to remove the rifle without disturbing its 
 owner. He grasped the tomahawk firmly, and 
 
104 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 then, assuring himself by a glance that his 
 youngest brother was ready, he stepped softly 
 to the sleepers, and placed himself astride of 
 one of them. They were still unconscious, 
 the fatigue of their long journey during the 
 previous day having thrown them into a pro 
 found slumber. The boy raised the tomahawk 
 with both hands, and, concentrating all his 
 energies in the blow, struck the savage with 
 it. The blow fell upon the back of the Indian s 
 neck, and a little to the side, so as not to be 
 fatal. Half stunned, the savage attempted to 
 spring up and defend himself, but John struck 
 him on the head. Even this blow, though it 
 cut through the skull with a horrible crash, 
 did not kill the man ; but the boy, rendered 
 desperate by the gravity of his situation, struck 
 him so fast, so often, and with such fatal effect, 
 that, as the lad afterwards expressed it himself, 
 the Indian "lay still, and began to quiver." 
 In another moment the huge savage lay motion 
 less at his feet, and, having satisfied himself 
 that there was nothing more to apprehend from 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 105 
 
 this one, John turned to see what disposition 
 his brother had made of the other. 
 
 Tom had also done his part well. As soon 
 as he saw his elder brother strike the Indian, 
 he pulled the trigger and discharged the rifle. 
 The ball struck the sleeping savage in the face, 
 and tore away a considerable part of his lower 
 jaw, and the Indian, a few moments after re 
 ceiving the shot, began to flounce about and 
 yell in the most terrible manner. He was so 
 completely startled by the suddenness of the 
 attack, that he did not for a moment attribute 
 it to his captives, and his wound was so terri 
 ble as to utterly deprive him, for a time, of the 
 power of resistance. As soon as he had fired, 
 Tom dropped the rifle, and hurried over to 
 where his brother was standing. 
 
 All this had taken scarcely as much time as 
 I have consumed in telling it, and the boys at 
 once set oft for the fort at full speed. In spite 
 of their efforts, however, they travelled slow, 
 for it was very difficult to find their way in the 
 darkness. They feared that they had not 
 
106 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 killed the other Indian, and that he would pur 
 sue them and murder them ; and the breaking 
 of every twig under their feet, the rustle of 
 every leaf, made them tremble with alarm. 
 
 At last they came in sight of the clearing 
 around the settlement, and John could see by 
 the brightening of the clouds in the east that 
 the day would soon break. They could see 
 the dark outline of the fort, about half a mile 
 beyond them ; but everything was as still as 
 death, and with beating hearts they set off at 
 a run. They reached the gate almost out of 
 breath, and knocked loudly upon it. The 
 sentinel on duty was none other than Dan 
 Whittaker, and the boy was about half 
 asleep. 
 
 "Who s that out there?" he called, drow 
 sily. 
 
 "It s me. Open the gate," cried John, 
 breathlessly. 
 
 "And who s me?" asked Dan, growing 
 wider awake. 
 
 "John Oxenford," was the reply. "Open 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. IOJ 
 
 the gate quick, Dan, if it s you. The Indians 
 may be after us at any moment." 
 
 Dan gave a great whoop, and the bars which 
 closed the entrance came clattering to the 
 ground, and the heavy gate swung open. Dan 
 caught his friend in his arms, and gave him 
 a great hug. He could not leave his post, but 
 told the boys they would find their parents 
 in the block-house, to which they at once pro 
 ceeded. 
 
 They found all the neighbors gathered in 
 their father s cabin, endeavoring to console and 
 cheer their parents. Their absence had occa 
 sioned the greatest alarm and anxiety in the 
 fort, as none of the parties that had gone out 
 to look for them had been able to learn any 
 thing of them. They found their mother with 
 her head lying in her husband s lap, sobbing 
 bitterly, while Captain Oxenford bent over her, 
 utterly incapable of offering her any consola 
 tion, so greatly was he in need of it himself. 
 
 " Poor boys, poor boys ! " sobbed the mother. 
 " They are killed or taken prisoners by the 
 Indians, and I shall never see them again." 
 
108 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 John s heart was in his throat as he heard 
 his mother s grief; but he burst into the room, 
 half laughing, half crying, followed by Tom, 
 who was blubbering outright. 
 
 "No, mother," cried the boys; "we are not 
 dead, and here we are." 
 
 You may be sure, dear reader, the lads had 
 a warm welcome from all present, and their 
 parents grief was changed into the deepest 
 joy. After the excitement produced by their 
 arrival had subsided, John told the story of 
 their capture and escape, not even concealing 
 their misconduct in stopping to gather the chest 
 nuts. When he described the manner in which 
 they had killed and wounded the Indians, one 
 of the old hunters, who was present, gave a 
 long whistle. 
 
 " Whew, lad ! " he exclaimed, incredulously ; 
 " that s a very fine tale you ve told, but it s a 
 pretty hard one. -You and your dog thar may 
 be pretty good at a bar fight ; but I don t know 
 any Injuns you could have licked as easy as 
 that." 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 1 09 
 
 "I ve told the truth," said John, flushing. 
 "Whether you believe it or not, everything 
 happened as I have said." 
 
 " Don t git riled, my boy,"- said the hunter, 
 kindly. " You hain t got a better friend in the 
 fort than me, and I d be powerful glad if I 
 could believe your yarn ; but I m too old an 
 Injun-fighter for that." 
 
 " Well, then, Bill Davis," said John, sharply, 
 " I ll prove that I speak the truth. It will be 
 broad day in a few minutes, and as soon as 
 the sun rises I ll go with you, and show you 
 the place." 
 
 " Done," said the hunter ; " and if I m wrong, 
 my boy, I ll ax your pardon with all my 
 heart." 
 
 Breakfast was made ready early, and as soon 
 as it was despatched, a party of six or seven, 
 consisting of Captain Oxenford, Bill Davis, 
 Dan Whittaker, and several others, left the 
 fort, under John s guidance, to ascertain the 
 truth of the boy s story. Captain, Oxenford 
 had never known his son to tell a lie, and he 
 
110 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 was very anxious that John s veracity should 
 be sustained by the result of the investigation. 
 He cared very little for the credit which would 
 be gained by his boys for their exploit. He 
 was chiefly anxious to show the settlers that 
 they had not lied. John guided the party by 
 the shortest route, and they soon stood upon 
 the spot which had been the scene of the last 
 night s tragedy. 
 
 The Indian he had tomahawked lay on the 
 ground, stiff and cold in death, but the other 
 one, who had been wounded by the discharge 
 of the rifle, had crawled away from the camp, 
 and had taken his gun and shot-pouch with 
 him. The evidence afforded by the dead In 
 dian was indisputable, and the boy pointed to 
 him with an air of triumph, and, turning to 
 the hunter, exclaimed, proudly, 
 
 "Well, Bill Davis, what do you say now?" 
 
 " I say," said the hunter, warmly, seizing 
 
 John s hand, and wringing it in his vice-like 
 
 grasp, " I say that, boy as you are, you are 
 
 the best man in the fort, and I ax your pardon, 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. Ill 
 
 lad, for doubting your story just now ; but you 
 see it was hard for an old hunter, like me, to 
 believe that two shavers, like you and Tom, 
 could lick two of the best warriors in the whole 
 Shawnee tribe." 
 
 "Then you know this Indian, Davis?" said 
 Captain Oxenford. 
 
 "Know him, cap n?" replied the hunter. 
 "You jist bet I do. He s shot at me often, 
 and we hunted each other for a whole year 
 once, but somehow both of us came out safe, 
 and we gave up the chase. He was a big 
 Injun, as the red-skins call their braves, and 
 I reckon his pardner was one of the same 
 stripe." 
 
 As he spoke, the old man drew his hunt 
 ing-knife from its sheath, and tried its edge on 
 his finger; then, before his companions really 
 knew what he was about, he bent over the 
 dead savage, and cut his scalp off. Raising 
 the gory trophy, he handed it to John. 
 
 " Here s your prize, lad," he said, holding out 
 the scalp. "What! don t want it?" he added, 
 
112 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 laughing, as he saw the boy shrink back in 
 horror. "You ve earned it fairly. Well, it does 
 you credit, anyhow, and I ll keep it and dry 
 it for you. If these troubles last as long as I 
 think they will, you ll be proud of this here 
 har yet." 
 
 And, so saying, the hunter commenced to 
 prepare the scalp for carrying, by taking it to 
 the brook, and washing the blood from it. 
 
 "Now," said Captain Oxenford, "let us see 
 what has become of the other Indian." 
 
 They followed the trail made by the wounded 
 savage, and found him lodged in the branches 
 of a large tree, which had fallen to the ground, 
 about a quarter of a mile from the camp. Not 
 withstanding the severity of his wound, which 
 was gradually producing lockjaw, the Indian 
 was resolved to sell his life as dearly as pos 
 sible. Bracing himself in the tree, with the 
 strength of despair, the savage rested his gun 
 on one of the limbs, and taking aim at the fore 
 most man of the party, pulled the trigger ; but, 
 fortunately, his gun missed fire. The white 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 113 
 
 men heard the snap of the lock, and made a 
 simultaneous movement backward. 
 
 "Hang me," muttered the old hunter, "if I 
 want to be shot by a dead Injun. I ll fix his 
 flint for him." 
 
 Raising his rifle, the old man aimed it de 
 liberately at the savage, and fired, and the 
 next moment the fellow fell to the ground a 
 corpse. 
 
 " Thar," said Davis, bending over him, and 
 scalping him, " I thought I knowed him. The 
 Shawnees will miss you, my fine fellows, and, 
 if I ain t much mistaken, they ll do thar best 
 to get some of our har to pay for yours." 
 
 The rifles and ammunition of the Indians 
 were secured, and the party went back to the 
 fort. John s story was now fully sustained, 
 and old Bill Davis, who had been the first to 
 doubt the boys, was now loudest in their praise, 
 in which the whole community joined right 
 heartily. Tom came in for his share too, and 
 it was decided by the men that the two rifles, 
 which had been taken from the Indians, should 
 8 
 
114 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 be given to the boys. John was old enough 
 to use his, and Tom s was put away until he 
 should be large enough to handle it. The 
 weapons were of the best quality, and were 
 very valuable, and in the long war which 
 followed these occurrences, they did good 
 service. 
 
THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT. 11$ 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "JoiiN," said Captain Oxenford, one morn 
 ing, " do you think you can make a sweep for 
 the hominy block?" 
 
 " I can try it, sir," was the reply. " But 
 where shall I put it?" 
 
 "It is for the benefit of the whole settle 
 ment," said the captain, " and you ll have to 
 put it where all can get at it easily. I reckon 
 you d better put it at the south end of the 
 storehouse." 
 
 John set to work at once. He cut down a 
 small sugar tree, and trimmed off a pole from 
 it about thirty feet long. This he dragged into 
 the fort with the aid of one of the horses, and 
 
 r 
 
 fastened the but-end under the lower layer of 
 logs in the storehouse. Two forks were then 
 driven into the ground at about one third the 
 
Il6 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 length of the pole, in order to support it firmly, 
 and elevate the small end about fifteen feet from 
 the ground. To the small end of this pole was 
 attached, by a large mortise, a piece of sap 
 ling about five or six inches in diameter, and 
 eight or ten feet long, the lower end of which 
 was shaped to answer for a pestle. A pin of 
 wood was then put through the pestle at the 
 proper height, so that two persons could work 
 the sweep at once. Under the pestle the hom 
 iny block was placed, and this consisted of 
 a large block of wood about three feet long, 
 with an excavation burned at one end, wide at 
 the top, and narrow at the bottom, so that the 
 action of the pestle on the bottom threw the 
 corn up to the sides towards the top of it, from 
 whence it continually fell down into the centre. 
 The sapling being very elastic, the work of 
 pounding the corn into hominy or meal 
 was very much lightened by means of this 
 sweep. 
 
 John did his work well, and in the course 
 of a few hours the sweep was in operation. It 
 
THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT. 
 
 was kept going almost constantly, for it was 
 the sole dependence of ten families. The corn 
 was beaten as fine as a succession of heavy 
 blows could break it, and the mass was then 
 bolted through a sifter made of a piece of fine 
 deer-skin stretched over a hoop, the holes be 
 ing perforated with a small hot wire. That 
 which passed through the holes was meal, and 
 was used for making bread, while the coarser 
 pieces were boiled as hominy. 
 
 The winter wore away monotonously, for there 
 was nothing to afford amusement to the dwell 
 ers in the fort at such a time ; but towards the 
 close of it, an incident occurred which gave 
 a little variety to the humdrum character of 
 the life they led. 
 
 It was late in January, 1775, and towards the 
 close of a remarkably cold day, that a stranger, 
 mounted on a very rough-looking horse, 
 reached the fort from the direction of Wheel 
 ing. He rode up to the enclosure, and asked 
 permission to spend the night there, which was 
 cordially given by Captain Oxenford, and the 
 
Il8 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 man was admitted within the walls, and his 
 horse put away in the stable. He made him 
 self very agreeable during the evening, and 
 gave the latest news from the colonies east of 
 the mountains, which information the settlers 
 considered ample remuneration for all the extra 
 trouble his visit caused them. The next morn 
 ing, however, the stranger was not quite so 
 agreeable. He informed Captain Oxenford that 
 he was the owner of the land on which the 
 little settlement was located, and that he had 
 come out for the purpose of arranging his 
 claims with the settlers. He said he was dis 
 posed to sell the land at a very low figure, and 
 that, as the settlers had been to considerable 
 trouble to improve the land, he supposed they 
 would rather pay for it than move away. 
 
 Captain Oxenford listened to him in silence, 
 his indignation and surprise at the fellow s 
 impudence rendering him speechless. 
 
 " What do you mean by claiming to be the 
 owner of this land?" he asked, at length. 
 " We found it unoccupied, and we claim it by 
 right of having settled it." 
 
THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT. 
 
 "That s very true, cap ," said the man; 
 "but you see I spotted this here tract before 
 you did." 
 
 "Then you should have settled on it," said 
 the captain, indignantly. "As you failed to 
 do so, you have no claim upon it." 
 
 "Wait a bit and I ll show you," said the 
 man, insolently. "Three years ago I came 
 here, and saw this valley. I made up my mind 
 that I had better lay claim to it, as some one 
 would be likely to settle here. I took my tom 
 ahawk and deadened a few trees about the 
 spring out yonder. Then I cut my initials, 
 P. P., which stand for Paul Payson ; that s 
 my name, cap ; and, according to the rules 
 here on the border, that gives me a tomahawk 
 right to this land."* 
 
 * Doddridge says, in his "Notes on Western Virginia," 
 " I remember having seen a number of those tomahawk 
 rights when a boy. For a long time many of them bore 
 the names of those who made them. I have no knowledge 
 of the efficacy of the tomahawk improvement, or whether 
 it conferred any right whatever, unless followed by an actual 
 settlement. These rights, however, were often bought and 
 sold. Those who wished to make settlements . . . often 
 
I2O PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 " Suppose we refuse to recognize your right 
 what then?" asked the captain, controlling 
 his anger. 
 
 "Well, then," said the man, impudently, 
 "I ll go up to Wheeling, and get a posse of 
 men, and put you off." 
 
 " You ll find no one there base enough to aid 
 you," said the captain ; " and besides, you have 
 no law to justify you." 
 
 "There s no law on the subject, I know," 
 said the man ; " but it s a custom here on the 
 border, and I mean to carry it out. I ve come 
 here to settle the thing peaceably; but if you 
 mean to show fight, why, I can show it, 
 too." 
 
 "Mr. Payson," said Captain Oxenford, stern 
 ly, "your claim is infamous. By your own 
 
 bought up the tomahawk improvements, rather than enter 
 into quarrels with those who had made them. Other im 
 provers of the land, . . . who happened to be stout, veteran 
 fellows, took a very different course from that of purchasing 
 the * tomahawk rights. When annoyed by the claimants 
 under those rights, they deliberately cut a few good hick 
 ories, and gave them what was called in those days a laced 
 jacket; that is, a sound whipping." 
 
THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT. T2I 
 
 confession, you had a whole year in which to 
 settle this land before we came. You threw 
 away your opportunity, and we have had the 
 toil and trouble necessary to the redemption of 
 this valley from the wilderness. We refuse to 
 recognize your bogus claim, and base our rights 
 upon our actual settlement. You can bring as 
 many men here as you please ; but if they in 
 terfere with us, we shall drive them away. We 
 will defend our rights with our lives." 
 
 "Then you are a parcel of thieves," began 
 Pay son, angrily ; but the captain cut him 
 short. 
 
 " Look you, my man," said he, his eyes flash 
 ing, "you had better hold your tongue. A 
 repetition of your words will bring down upon 
 you the punishment you merit." 
 
 By this time nearly all the settlers had col 
 lected on the spot where the conversation was 
 being held, \\hich was just outside of the gate 
 of the fort, and they demanded eagerly to know 
 the cause of the quarrel, for such they per 
 ceived it to be. 
 
122 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 " This man," said Captain Oxenford, " has 
 come here to demand that we shall buy from 
 him the land we have earned by our labor and 
 privations. He says he has a tomahawk right 
 to it, as he saw it three years ago, and cut his 
 initials on the trees around the spring yon 
 der. I have told him that we will not recog 
 nize such an infamous claim, and he threatens 
 to bring a posse of men here to expel us." 
 
 "Sculp him!" cried old Bill Davis, the 
 hunter, whose ideas of retribution were very 
 much like those of the Indians themselves. 
 "Blarst him, I d like to have his har ; I d put it 
 alongside o that Injun s sculp John killed 
 t other day." 
 
 It was evident that the settlers were very 
 much inclined to take the old man s advice. 
 Big Dan Whittaker said nothing, but, giving 
 John Oxenford a wink, which the lad under 
 stood, stepped over to a grove of young sap 
 lings, and cut a stout switch with his knife. 
 He was back in a minute, and set to work to 
 trim the switch in silence. The owner of the 
 
THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT. 123 
 
 "tomahawk right" began to see that he was 
 in considerable danger ; but putting on a bold 
 appearance, he declared his intention to main 
 tain his rights to the last. 
 
 "Duck him in the creek," cried several of 
 the men. " He s a blackguard ; he s no better 
 than a common thief." 
 
 There was a movement towards the man, 
 who turned pale, and looked about for a 
 chance to escape ; but Captain Oxenford 
 stopped the excited settlers by stepping before 
 the man. 
 
 "Don t touch him, men," he said. "Let us 
 show him fair play." 
 
 Dan Whittaker had now finished trimming 
 his switch, and, shutting his knife and put 
 ting it away, he walked up to the trembling 
 sharper. 
 
 "Let me settle his claim, captain," he said. 
 "We are a good match." 
 
 "Well, then, if you will have it so, Dan," 
 said the captain, who saw that this was the 
 only way of saving the man from the wrath 
 
124 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 of the settlers, and who was really not sorry 
 to see the matter so adjusted, "I have nothing 
 more to say. After all, the fellow deserves 
 some kind of punishment for his insolence." 
 
 Stepping aside, he left Dan confronting the 
 man, who was by this time very much fright 
 ened. 
 
 "You ve come here to settle your tomahawk 
 right, I hear," said Dan, mockingly. "Well, 
 old fellow, the way we settle those things is 
 just so." 
 
 Seizing the man by the collar, he rained 
 blows fast and heavy on the fellow s back and 
 shoulders. The man struggled hard to get 
 away from him, but Dan held him fast, and 
 flogged him soundly, amid the cheers and yells 
 of the delighted spectators. At last, when 
 fairly out of breath, he released him. 
 
 " Now," said Captain Oxenford, to the crest 
 fallen sharper, " the sooner you get away from 
 here, the better for you." 
 
 The man walked silently into the fort, and, 
 taking- his horse from the stable, rode out of 
 
THE TOMAHAWK EIGHT. 125 
 
 the enclosure. He paused as he reached the 
 spot where the settlers were still standing, and 
 pointing his finger at Dan Whittaker, he said, 
 or rather lisped, in a tone of the bitterest 
 hatred, 
 
 "You ve had your turn to-day, youngster. 
 It ll be my time next, and you mark me if I 
 don t have your life by this time next year." 
 
 " You can have a trial at it now, if you ll 
 get down off that horse," said Dan, coolly. 
 
 The man tried to speak, but his voice was 
 too unsteady to trust himself; so, darting upon 
 the boy a look of hatred, he put spurs to his 
 horse, and rode off swiftly. Dan burst into a 
 laugh, and turned carelessly away. As he 
 did so, he felt some one touch him on his 
 arm, and, turning, he saw his friend, the old 
 hunter. 
 
 "You may laugh, Dan," said the old man, 
 gravely, " but take my word for it, that fellow 
 means what he says. He ll be sure to try to 
 do you some mischief, and I d be on my guard 
 if I were you." 
 
126 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 " I m not afraid of him," replied Dan. " He s 
 a vile coward, or he never would have let me 
 flog him just now." 
 
 " Of course he s a coward," said the hunter, 
 "and that s the reason why I warn you agin 
 him. If he was a brave man, he d seek no 
 mean advantage over you ; but he ll not hesi 
 tate to waylay you whenever he can ; so take 
 my advice, lad, and be on the watch for him." 
 
 The hunter s warning was based upon a 
 keen knowledge of human nature, as seen in 
 that part of the world, and Dan concluded to 
 be influenced by it. His caution, however, 
 was useless, for Payson was never seen or 
 heard of in the neighborhood of Fish Creek 
 again. His "tomahawk right" had been com 
 pletely settled, and the settlers were troubled 
 with it no more. It was afterwards ascertained 
 that he did not return to Wheeling, as he had 
 threatened. Such a course would have been 
 useless, for the settlers at that post would have 
 laughed at his claim, and he would have stood 
 a good chance of a worse punishment than 
 
THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT. 127 
 
 he met at the hands of Dan Whittaker. As 
 his disappearance left no trace of him behind, 
 the settlers came to believe, with the old hunter, 
 that the Indians had "gobbled him up." It 
 was some time before they ceased to discuss 
 the fellow s visit to them, and to the last their 
 indignation remained as violent as it was on 
 the day of the occurrence. 
 
 In the woods just back of the settlement 
 were a number of fine sugar-maple trees. It 
 was the next thing to impossible to obtain 
 sugar on the western side of the mountains, 
 and many months had elapsed since our set 
 tlers had seen any. It was proposed by some 
 one to tap the maple trees fos sap, and make 
 their own sugar. This would place within 
 their reach an abundant supply of a most de 
 lightful quality of sugar. They would be de 
 pendent no longer upon the east in this respect, 
 and the plan was so promising that it was decid 
 ed to try it. The work was to be done in com 
 mon, and the sugar divided among the fami 
 lies according to their number. Preparations 
 
128 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 were immediately commenced, and as the 
 winter gave place to the spring, the process 
 of collecting the sap from the trees was be 
 gun. Each tree was bored with a medium- 
 sized auger, and into the hole thus made a 
 piece of wood hollowed like a spout was 
 driven. The sap collected in these spouts, 
 and ran slowly into buckets and pails, which 
 were set to catch it. A number of buckets 
 and barrels were made for the occasion, for, 
 among the other accomplishments which their 
 necessities had taught them, some of the settlers 
 had become excellent coopers. As fast as 
 the buckets were filled, they were emptied 
 into the barrels, and in this way a consider 
 able quantity of the sap was collected. In 
 ten days enough had been drawn to enable 
 the settlers to commence boiling the sirup into 
 sugar. Four large fires were kindled in the 
 woods, and over each one was placed a large 
 iron kettle, holding about ten or twelve gal 
 lons. The women attended to the boiling, 
 and the men kept the fires supplied with fuel. 
 
THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT. 1 29 
 
 This was continued for about a month, at the 
 end of which time it was found that quite a 
 large quantity of sugar and molasses had 
 been made, and it was believed that, with care 
 ful economy, the supply could be made to last 
 until the next spring. 
 
 My readers must not suppose that the little 
 frontier settlement to which I have devoted 
 these pages was by any means an earthly 
 Paradise. It was like all others of its kind, a 
 collection of plain, rough cabins, inhabited by 
 a rugged, hard-fisted set of people. The pri 
 vations and hardships endured by the settlers 
 were such as we of to-day can scarcely real 
 ize, not the least of which was the severe 
 toil attendant upon clearing up the land and 
 getting in the crops. Almost everything had 
 to be created, and nothing but the direst ne 
 cessity could have called into such active use 
 the ingenuity that was manifested by nearly 
 every person to supply the deficiencies. Yet, 
 in spite of their hard life, the settlers were 
 contented and happy. They established homes 
 
 9 
 
I3O PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 for themselves and their families ; they owed 
 no man anything, and they knew that, when 
 they came to die, their children would have 
 an ample inheritance. They felt that the In 
 dians would be steadily driven farther west, 
 and the country more thickly settled, and that 
 their children would reap the reward of their 
 labors, if they did not live to do so them 
 selves. 
 
BORDER WAR. 131 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BORDER WAR. 
 
 WITH the summer of 1775 came the news 
 of the troubles with "England, which were con 
 vulsing the whole country. The efforts which 
 the mother country was making to reduce the 
 rebellious colonies to submission were tolera 
 bly well understood on the Ohio, in spite of 
 the great difficulties of obtaining authentic in 
 formation, and the measures of the patriots for 
 resistance found a sympathizer in almost every 
 settler west of the mountains. So rare, in 
 deed, was a Tory found in that region, that 
 the name was scarcely known. 
 
 The people of Western Virginia had good 
 cause to be indignant at the conduct of the 
 British authorities, for they had good proof 
 that the mother country was prepared to bring 
 upon them the worst of evils. For some time 
 
132 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 they had had cause to suspect that the infa 
 mous governor of Virginia, Lord Dunmore, 
 had been in negotiation with the Indians for the 
 destruction, by the latter, of the frontier settle 
 ments, and in the fall of 1775 they had positive 
 proof of this in the discovery of the plot known 
 as " Connelly s conspiracy ; " and the next year, 
 the war having assumed a general character 
 east of the mountains, the struggle began in 
 earnest west of them, between the whites and 
 the savages. Great Britain had taken the lat 
 ter regularly into her employ, and, to her 
 eternal shame, had offered a reward for every 
 scalp which the savages brought to her mili 
 tary posts along the great lakes. Detroit was 
 her principal stronghold in this region, and 
 that city was the great market for the scalps 
 of the patriots. The war was bitter and mer 
 ciless. 
 
 As soon as the war began, the settlers on 
 Fish Creek, who had left the fort in the spring, 
 after the close of " Dunmore s war," and moved 
 back to their cabins, returned to their quar- 
 
BORDER WAR. 133 
 
 ters in the fort. They hoped the struggle 
 would soon pass by, for they had no concep 
 tion of its magnitude ; but as the time wore 
 on, the savages became more troublesome, and 
 they began to see that they would be com 
 pelled to remain in the fort, at least until peace 
 was proclaimed, and when that would be, no 
 one could tell. They heard, towards the close 
 of the summer of 1776, that the colonies had 
 declared themselves absolved from their alle 
 giance to Great Britain ; but, as they had never 
 troubled themselves much about that country, 
 they were somewhat at a loss to understand 
 how this separation benefited them. Still, as 
 they regarded England as the author of their 
 troubles with the Indians, they were, on the 
 whole, rather glad that the country was to 
 have no further connection with her. 
 
 As late as the fall of 1776 the settlement 
 was exempt from the depredations of the sav 
 ages, but with the latter part of the harvest it 
 began to take its share in the struggle through 
 which the whole country was passing. 
 
134 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 The harvest was almost over. The corn 
 had been gathered in, and was safely stowed 
 away in the fort, and a large part of the fodder 
 had been secured in the same manner. Two 
 days more, and everything would be safe under 
 shelter. It was near sunset, and the settlers, 
 with the exception of two men who had been 
 left to mind the gate, were busy at work in 
 the cornfield. In accordance with the orders 
 of Captain Cxenford, each man had his rifle 
 with him, and, as the hunters had reported 
 signs of Indians in the vicinity of the river on 
 the previous day, each man had his weapon 
 slung across his back by means of a cord of 
 deer-skin, so that it could be ready for use at 
 any moment. The field on the south shore 
 of the creek had been harvested, and all the 
 men were collected in the bottom, which lay 
 within a few hundred yards of the fort. The 
 upper end of this field was bounded by a strip 
 of woods, and it was near this thicket that the 
 men were working when the incident which 
 follows occurred. 
 
BORDER WAR. 135 
 
 John Oxenford who was now over seven 
 teen years old and Dan Whittaker were near 
 est the belt of wood, and were busily engaged 
 in carrying the bundles of fodder to the large 
 stack from which it was to be carried to the 
 fort the next day. Suddenly Dan s quick ear 
 caught the sound of something moving among 
 the trees. 
 
 "I say, John," he said, in a low tone, 
 "there s something moving in the woods. I 
 shouldn t be surprised if it is an Indian, or a 
 dozen of them, maybe." 
 
 "Let s give the alarm, then," said John, 
 quickly. 
 
 " But we don t know that the noise is caused 
 by the approach of the red-skins," said Dan. 
 " It may be a fox, or a bear, or even a squir 
 rel ; and if we give the alarm, we shall be 
 laughed at for being frightened." 
 
 "I ll take the risk, anyhow," said John. 
 "Father," he cried, running to the captain, 
 who was but a short distance from them, 
 "there are Indians in the woods." 
 
136 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 He had scarcely spoken when the reports 
 of ten or twelve rifles rang out from the trees. 
 Fortunately, no one was killed. One of the 
 settlers received a slight wound in the arm, 
 but no damage of a serious nature was done 
 by the volley. 
 
 " Run for the fort, men ! Run for the fort ! " 
 shouted Captain Oxenford. " It is our only 
 hope of safety." 
 
 The next moment the whites had unslung 
 their guns from their shoulders, and started 
 for the fort. Orders had been given that day 
 to allow none of the \vomen and children to 
 pass beyond the walls, and the men who had 
 been working in the field were the only per 
 sons exposed to the danger. The savages, 
 some eight or ten in number, had counted on 
 surprising the whites ; and, as soon as they 
 fired, they sprang from the woods with a loud 
 yell, and dashed towards them. The fugitives 
 were about fifty yards in advance, but the race 
 was a close one, for the red-skins were better 
 runners than their adversaries. Seeing that 
 
BORDER WAR. 137 
 
 the Indians were gaming upon them, Captain 
 Oxenford called to his men to halt, discharge 
 their rifles at the enemy, and then resume their 
 efforts to reach the fort ; and, suiting the action 
 to the word, he paused, raised his rifle, fired, 
 and ran towards the gate. A yell of pain 
 from the Indians told him that he had struck 
 one of the dusky warriors. Several other shots 
 were fired, one of which wounded another In 
 dian ; but the majority of the settlers made no 
 effort to execute the captain s orders, being 
 anxious only to get into the fort alive. The 
 firing had the effect of bringing the Indians 
 to a halt ; and taking advantage of this, the 
 settlers got into the enclosure safely. The 
 sentinels at the gate had been startled by the 
 reports of the Indians rifles, and had at once 
 prepared to admit their friends. The whites 
 once inside the walls, the gates were closed 
 and securely barred. The wounded man had 
 not been very much injured, and he was turned 
 over to the care of the women, while the others 
 proceeded to man the side of the fort nearest 
 the savages. 
 
138 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 i John Oxenford and Dan Whittaker were 
 eager for a shot at the enemy, and as soon 
 as they got into the fort, they hastened to the 
 block-house overlooking the ground occupied 
 by the savages. The Indians were still stand 
 ing in the field, huddled around the two who 
 had been wounded. As the boys reached the 
 block-house, they saw them lift the form of one 
 of the wounded men from the ground, prepar 
 atory to carrying him off. As they did so, 
 they shook their clinched hands at the fort, 
 and uttered a series of deafening yells. 
 
 "They are going off, Dan," said John, as 
 he watched them through a loop-hole. " If 
 we want to get a crack at them, we must be 
 quick about it." 
 
 "It s a long distance, John," said Dan, "and 
 I hardly think we can reach them." 
 
 "We^can try it," said John. "So here 
 goes." 
 
 The boys raised their guns, and, passing 
 them through the loop-holes, aimed carefully 
 at the dusky group. The Indians were some 
 
BORDER WAR. 139 
 
 distance off, and it was a very doubtful venture 
 the lads were attempting. They aimed slowly 
 and carefully, and fired simultaneously. One 
 of the Indians sprang into the air, and fell to 
 the ground a corpse ; but, as the boys had fired 
 together, it was impossible to tell which had 
 killed him. The boys gave a cheer as they 
 saw him fall, and the savages, with a yell, 
 dropped their wounded comrade, and scam 
 pered off to the woods, from which they fired 
 several shots at the fort, all of which fell short, 
 however. Several of the settlers, among whom 
 was Captain Oxenford, now came into the 
 block-house. 
 
 "Who fired those shots?" asked the cap 
 tain. 
 
 "We did, sir," replied both the boys. 
 
 "Didn t you remember my orders about 
 wasting your ammunition?" asked the cap 
 tain, sternly. 
 
 "We didn t waste it, sir," said Dan, eagerly. 
 " We killed an Indian. See," he added, point 
 ing through the loop-hole, "you can see him 
 
140 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 lying yonder by that big stump. That other 
 fellow is only wounded." 
 
 " Don t throw away a shot, boys," said the 
 captain, patting Dan approvingly on the back. 
 "We had better not fire on them again until 
 they make another attack. Do you think they 
 will attempt an attack on the fort to-night?" 
 he asked, turning to Bill Davis, the old hunter, 
 who was their great authority upon Indian 
 matters. 
 
 " No, cap ," was the reply ; " the varmints 
 ain t strong enough for that. They hoped to 
 surprise us ; but as they haven t done so, 
 they ll never risk buttin thar heads agin these 
 log walls. They ve got too much sense for 
 that. They ll stay about here till after dark, 
 so they can carry off them men lyin yonder; 
 and maybe they ll try to set the fort on fire 
 during the night. We ll have to keep a sharp 
 lookout ; but I don t think we need fear any 
 thing from them." 
 
 " Do you think they will retreat by morn 
 ing?" asked John. 
 
BORDER WAR. 14! 
 
 "P r aps so," replied the hunter; "but thar s 
 no tellin . They may hang around here two 
 or three days, hoping to cut off some straggler 
 from the fort; so you ll have to keep your 
 people up pretty close for a while, cap ; but I 
 can t say what they intend doin . They re 
 queer critters, them Injuns." 
 
 Acting upon the advice of the old hunter, 
 Captain Oxenford gave orders that a strict 
 watch should be kept over all parts of the fort 
 during the night ; and for this purpose one man 
 was stationed in each block-house, and one at 
 the gate, while the rest of those who were able 
 to handle a weapon were held in readiness for 
 any emergency in one of the cabins on the side 
 nearest the enemy. The savages remained 
 quiet, however, and in a short time the dark 
 ness came on. 
 
 It was a very cool night, and the men were 
 given permission to build a fire in the cabin 
 where they were assembled. Their suppers 
 were brought to them by their wives and chil 
 dren, and when this meal was over, they re- 
 
142 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 mained in the cabin, awaiting the movements 
 of the Indians. Some were gathered around 
 the fire talking, while others were stretched out 
 on the floor, smoking silently their corn-cob 
 pipes. The fire threw a warm, rich glow over 
 the rugged scene, bringing out every detail in 
 the most picturesque style. Bill Davis was in 
 his element. Seated in one corner of the huge 
 fireplace, he was telling his hearers tales of 
 his experience as an Indian-fighter. John Ox- 
 enford, who had become a sort of pet with him 
 since the affair with the Indians, two years 
 before, was lying on the floor, with his head 
 resting against the old man s knee, and Dan 
 Whittaker was standing in the shade of the fire 
 place, leaning against the wall, and resting 
 both hands on his rifle. Both boys were listen 
 ing eagerly to the hunter s story ; for Achilles 
 himself was never greater in the estimation of 
 those " who warred against Troy," than was 
 Bill Davis in the eyes of these pioneer 
 boys. 
 
 "Yes," said the old man, knocking the ashes 
 
BORDER WAR. 143 
 
 from his pipe, preparatory to filling it again, 
 "lied a wild, venturesome life before I came 
 to this here settlement, and I don t know how 
 soon I may go at it again, for I m pretty tired 
 of bein cooped up in a pen ; but whatever I 
 do, lad," he added, patting John softly on the 
 head, "I ll make this fort my stopping-place, 
 and I ll be here off and on, for I mean to keep 
 an eye on you as long as I live, for I know 
 you ll make your mark yet." 
 
 "Thank you, Bill," said John, touched by 
 the hunter s affection for him. " I should be 
 very sorry to have you leave us, and I don t 
 see why you should, for everybody here likes 
 you, and I should be real lonesome without 
 you, and so would Dan." 
 
 "I know, lad," said the hunter, softly; "I 
 know. I ll stay as long as I can ; but I m 
 afeard I shan t be able to hold out, for I feel a 
 kind of longin to be out in the woods agin. 
 But," he added, quickly, "that ain t tellin you 
 about that fight I had with the Injuns four 
 years ago." 
 
144 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 "Let us have it," cried several voices. "We 
 won t interrupt you this time, Bill." 
 
 "Very good," said the hunter. "You can 
 question me when I git through, if you want 
 to ; but you must let me tell the story without 
 botherin me, or I can t tell it at all. You see," 
 he began, lighting his pipe, "four years ago 
 there warn t no settlements along the Ohio, 
 except at Wheeling, and on Buffalo and Short 
 Creeks, which lie above Wheeling. The set 
 tlements hadn t come down this far, and were 
 scattered along the Monongehela country to 
 wards Pennsylvania and Maryland. Very few 
 people had ventured to come over the moun 
 tains, and the country west of them was pretty 
 much a wilderness. The Injuns had left it and 
 gone across the Ohio, but they still hunted 
 along it, and this made our people somewhat 
 timid. Well, a party of settlers had located 
 near the head of the North Branch of the 
 Potomac, and had built em a block-house, 
 which wasn t a circumstance to this fort, but 
 which did pretty well as a defence agin the 
 
KT^ 
 
 SURPRISE OF BILL DAVIS. Page 145. 
 
BORDER WAR. 145 
 
 red-skins. I used to hunt in this region, and 
 I made the block-house my headquarters. 
 
 " One day, just four years ago this fall, I was 
 riding along a path which led to the settlement, 
 when I came across a vine full of wild grapes. 
 The vine was just loaded down with the fruit, 
 and the grapes looked so luscious that I couldn t 
 make up my mind to pass em by ; so I rode up 
 under the vine, and in a few minutes I had 
 filled my cap with the grapes. Swingin my 
 rifle across the pommel of my saddle, I held 
 the cap in my hand, and rode along slowly to 
 wards the block-house, eating the grapes as I 
 went along. I hadn t an idea that there was 
 danger about, for I hadn t seen the least sign of 
 an Injun during the whole day ; but just as I 
 had got my mouth full of the grapes, and was 
 spitting out the stones and skins, I heard two 
 rifles crack within a dozen yards of me, one 
 on each side of the road. One of the balls cut 
 through my hunting-shirt, and grazed my 
 breast, and the other struck my horse just 
 back of the saddle, and brought him down in 
 10 
 
146 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 his tracks. You may be pretty sure I was 
 astonished, and I come near choking with the 
 grapes I had in my mouth. I fell with my 
 horse ; but the next minute I was on my feet, 
 with my rifle in my hand. I might have run 
 away, for I was pretty good at a foot-race ; but 
 I couldn t bear to have it said that I ran from 
 only two Injuns. I was bound to bring down 
 one of em, at any rate. 
 
 " As I jumped on my feet, after the fall of my 
 horse, I heard a crashing in the bushes, and 
 the next minute a big red-skin come rushing 
 at me with his tomahawk in his hand. I 
 cocked my rifle, and kept my eye on him, 
 ready to let him have my ball as soon as he 
 should come close enough. He saw this, how 
 ever, and he darted behind two good-sized sap 
 lings, which were about a foot apart. Neither 
 of these trees was big enough to cover him, 
 and, to keep me from getting a shot at him, 
 he kept jumping from one to the other ; and for 
 the life of me, I couldn t help laughing at him, 
 he did it so comically. 
 
BORDER WAR. 147 
 
 " I knew I had two of the varmints to deal 
 with, and so I kept a pretty sharp lookout for 
 the other. I saw him, at last, behind a tree, 
 loading his gun. The tree wasn t quite big 
 enough to cover him, and I found that I stood 
 a better chance of hitting him than the other 
 one ; so I let the other fellow keep up his dan 
 cing, and watched this one closely. As he was 
 ramming his bullet down, he turned his side 
 to me, and exposed himself fairly. I blazed 
 away, and broke his hip, which brought him 
 to the ground too much disabled to cause me 
 any more trouble. 
 
 "The big Injun now stopped his dancing, 
 as he knew that my gun was empty, and 
 made a dash at me with his tomahawk raised. 
 He stopped, about fifteen feet from me, and 
 threw the tomahawk at me with all his 
 strength. If hie had hit me, I wouldn t have 
 been here to-night ; but I had my eye on him, 
 and I dodged the blow, and the weapon flew 
 far out of the reach of either of us. I then 
 clubbed my rifle, and sprang at the fellow. 
 
148 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 He was much bigger than me, but I rather 
 think I had the advantage of him in muscle. 
 I tried to knock him down with the but-end 
 of my gun, but he jumped into a lot of 
 saplings, and every time I d strike at him, 
 he d dodge. In this way I broke the stock 
 off my gun, and at last had nothing left but 
 the naked barrel. I could have easily killed 
 him with this, if I could have got a fair 
 lick at him ; and at last, thinking I had a fair 
 chance, I swung the iron at him, in a side 
 lick, with such force that the thing flew clean 
 out of my hands, entirely beyond my reach. 
 The big Injun gave a yell at this, and 
 sprang at me. Neither of us had a weap 
 on of any kind, and I saw that we were in 
 for a rough roll-and-tumble fight. I was al 
 ways pretty good at this, and I closed with 
 him at once, and down he went like a log. I 
 couldn t hold him down, though, for as he 
 was naked, and had his hide oiled, he could 
 easily slip out of my grasp, and get up on 
 his feet agin . I threw him down five or six 
 
BORDER WAR. 149 
 
 times, but found it impossible to hold him 
 down. My wind was gitting pretty short, and 
 I found that I must end the matter pretty soon ; 
 so I resolved to change my plan. I threw 
 the Injun down agin , but, without trying to 
 hold him, jumped on my feet, and as the fel 
 low got up, I hit him a crack between the eyes 
 with my fist, that sent him sprawling on his 
 back. This astonished him, I can tell you ; 
 but he was up and at me in a second, when I 
 hit him another crack, and knocked-him down 
 agin . He got up slower this time, and I sent 
 him tlo\vn a third time. I did this about half 
 a dozen times, and every time he got up 
 slower. At last I had a fair chance, and I 
 let fly at him, striking him just back of the 
 ear. He went down about a little more than 
 half stunned, and I jumped on him, and, 
 clutching his throat with my left hand, tried 
 to choke him to death, keeping my right hand 
 free for use, if I should need it. The fellow 
 wasn t so dead as I thought, though, for in a 
 minute I felt him moving his right arm, which 
 
150 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 lay across my body, and looking down I saw 
 that he was trying to git at his hunting-knife, 
 which was hanging at his belt. The knife 
 was very short, and was so tightly wedged in 
 the sheath that the fellow had to git it out 
 by pressing his finger against the point. I 
 kept my eye. on him, and let him work the 
 handle out, and then, reaching over suddenly, 
 I grabbed it, .drew it from the sheath, and 
 drove it with all my force into his heart. He 
 gave a groan, and straightened himself out 
 as dead as a hammer. 
 
 "I knew I had disabled the other Indian, 
 but to what extent I couldn t say, and it was 
 just as likely as not that he might shoot me 
 at any moment; so I sprang to my feet, and 
 commenced to look after him. I found that 
 the varmint had crawled some distance towards 
 the place where I d been fightin his pardner, 
 and that he had propped his back agin a 
 log, and was try in* to bring his gun to bear 
 on me. Every time he tried to aim it, how 
 ever, he would fall forward, and would have 
 
BORDER WAR. 
 
 to push agin his gun to raise himself. I didn t 
 feel like bein shot by a crippled Injun, and I 
 thought I d had about as much exercise as 
 was good for me ; so I started off as fast as I 
 could for the block-house. I got there about 
 nightfall ; and a hard-looking case I was, too. 
 I had no cap, no hunting-shirt, no horse, and 
 no gun ; and the worst of it was, that the 
 folks in the fort didn t believe the story I told 
 em. So I did just what you did, John, when 
 I didn t believe the story you told of your 
 escape ; I told em I d go with em and show 
 em the place. 
 
 " The next day we started out, about half 
 a dozen in all, and when we came to the 
 place where I d had the fight, I began to feel 
 pretty mean. Thar lay the dead horse, but 
 not a sign of a dead Injun was to be seen. 
 The men commenced to laugh at me then, 
 and I felt like a fool. We looked about, how 
 ever, and found a trail, as if something had 
 been dragged away. We followed it, and in 
 about five minutes found the body of the big 
 
152 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Injun lying beside a log, covered up with 
 leaves. The trail continued for a few hun 
 dred yards further, and thar we found the In 
 jun I had crippled lying on his back, with 
 his own hunting-knife sticking up to the hilt 
 in his body, just below the breast-bone. It 
 was plain that he had killed himself, find 
 ing that his wound had rendered it impossible 
 for him to go any further. We had a long 
 search for the knife with which I killed the 
 big Injun, but at last we found it. The crip 
 pled Injun had forced it down into the ground 
 by the weight of his heel. 
 
 "It was my turn to laugh now, as I had 
 proved to my companions the truth of my 
 story ; but I couldn t do it, for the life of me. 
 The way that crippled Injun had stood by his 
 friend, even after he was almost gone himself, 
 touched my heart, and I couldn t help feelin 
 sorry for the fellow. He was a brave man 
 and a true friend, if he was an Injun, and I 
 have always respected his memory ever since ; 
 for tain t often you find such true fellows 
 
BORDER WAR. 153 
 
 among the red-skins. They re generally pretty 
 apt to shift for themselves in times of trouble. 
 That was about the toughest tussle I ever had 
 with the varmints, and I haven t the least de 
 sire for another like it. But, hallo!" he ex 
 claimed, starting to his feet, as a bright, red 
 light shone in through the loop-holes, " what 
 are they up to now ? " 
 
 All rushed to the loop-holes and looked out. 
 The bright glare of a fire lit up the fields 
 and woods, and the settlers saw that the sav 
 ages had fired the stack of fodder in the corn 
 field. It was a lucky thing for them that so 
 little was left exposed to the enemy, for the 
 whole crop would have shared the same fate 
 had it been left without the walls of the fort. 
 The Indians kept well under the cover of the 
 woods, however, and not one of them could 
 be seen. The fire burned down at length, 
 and during the hours of darkness the embers 
 continued to glow dimly. The night passed 
 away quietly, and towards morning all but the 
 sentinels were permitted to go to sleep; and 
 
154 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 in consequence of this, it was some time after 
 sunrise before the garrison was stirring again. 
 The Indians had carried off their wounded 
 and slain comrades, under the cover of the 
 darkness, and they took good care not to add 
 to their list of casualties by exposing them 
 selves again. They hung about the fort dur 
 ing the day and a part of the next, firing an 
 occasional shot on the morning of the third 
 day, but at length abandoned their enterprise, 
 and withdrew in the direction of the Ohio. 
 
THE SCOUT. 155 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SCOUT. 
 
 BY the spring of 1777 the country along the 
 Ohio River, on the Virginia side, was begin 
 ning to be very well settled. There was a 
 chain of forts, or block-houses, extending from 
 Buffalo Creek, where the town of Wellsburg 
 now stands, to below Fish Creek. Of these, 
 the most important were Rice s Fort, on Buffalo 
 Creek, about twelve or fifteen miles from its 
 mouth, the fort at Wheeling (the name of which 
 was now changed from Fort Fincastle to Fort 
 Henry, in honor of Patrick Henry, the great 
 champion of. American liberty) , and the fort at 
 Grove Creek. That at Fish Creek was com 
 paratively isolated, and had not yet acquired 
 the importance which the others had attained. 
 The country from the Ohio River towards the 
 Monongehela "was more thickly settled, and 
 
156 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 was growing stronger every day ; but that por 
 tion lying immediately along the former stream 
 was still weak, and exposed to the savages. 
 
 In the spring of 1777, however, a number of 
 clearings were made back of Fish Creek. 
 Captain Oxenford and the commanding officer 
 at Grove Creek warned the parties making 
 these settlements of the danger they were 
 incurring in separating themselves from the 
 communities already established ; but the new 
 comers, trusting more in their own judgment 
 than in the experience of those who had pre 
 ceded them, replied that they did not apprehend 
 any danger, and that they could easily take 
 refuge in one of the forts in case the Indians 
 did make a descent upon them. It was impos 
 sible to compel these people to listen to reason, 
 and they were left to themselves. As we shall 
 see, the sequel proved the wisdom of the older 
 settlers.- During the spring several men came 
 into the fort to seek shelter. They were all 
 experienced woodsmen, and Captain Oxenford 
 was glad to receive them, as they formed a very 
 valuable addition to the garrison. 
 
THE SCOUT. 157 
 
 In spite of the danger which attended it, the 
 regular work of putting in the crops was done. 
 In order to guard against a surprise, scouts 
 were thrown out at a distance of an eighth of 
 a mile beyond the cornfield, and once or twice 
 they exchanged shots with a straggling Indian 
 lurking near; but, with these exceptions, the 
 savages left the settlement in peace during the 
 spring. 
 
 About the second week in July, however, the 
 sentinel on duty at the gate of the Fish Creek 
 fort saw a man and a woman running from out 
 the woods towards the fort. The woman had 
 something clasped in her arms, and the man 
 carried a good-sized child in his. As they 
 came near, the sentinel saw that they were 
 whites, and that the bundle in the woman s 
 arms was an infant. The gate was thrown 
 open, and the fugitives rushed in. They were 
 at once surrounded by the settlers, who recog 
 nized them as a family which had recently 
 located in a clearing about six miles from the 
 fort. When they were sufficiently recovered, 
 
158 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 they said, in reply to the questions of the set 
 tlers, that they had been awakened a little be 
 fore daybreak by a succession of yells, which 
 they knew at once could come only from In 
 dians. Springing from their bed, they rushed 
 to the door and looked out. Two cabins, which 
 stood at a distance of a quarter of a mile from 
 them, were in flames, and the Indians were 
 yelling and dancing like fiends about the burn 
 ing buildings. There could be no doubt as to 
 the fate of the occupants of the cabins, and 
 it was certain that the savages w r ould visit the 
 cabin of the Jones family, for this was the 
 name of the fugitives, in a few minutes. 
 There was no time to be lost, if they would 
 save their lives ; and so, catching up their chil 
 dren from the bed, they left the cabin, and, 
 hurrying into the woods, fled towards the fort. 
 They had not gone far when they heard a yell 
 of rage in the direction of their house, and 
 immediately a bright glare shot up above the 
 trees, and they knew their home was in flames. 
 They hastened on, however, with all their 
 
THE SCOUT. 159 
 
 speed, and reached the fort almost exhausted 
 with fatigue. It was still early morning when 
 they arrived, and the day was bright and clear. 
 A thin smoke hovering above the woods in the 
 direction of the clearing of the Joneses con 
 firmed their story. 
 
 Every one felt that the misfortunes of the 
 fugitives, who had now lost everything in the 
 world, was due to their folly in refusing to come 
 into the fort when warned by Captain Oxen- 
 ford ; but this did not prevent the settlers from 
 according them their warmest sympathy. A 
 cabin in the fort was assigned them, and each 
 family gave them something from their little 
 store, so that by nightfall the Joneses were tol 
 erably comfortable. They had a cabin to them 
 selves, an abundance of food, and a bed for 
 themselves and the children. 
 
 The next day, no signs of the Indians hav 
 ing been seen about the fort, Captain Oxenford 
 proposed that a party should go out and ascer 
 tain the fate of the people who had been at 
 tacked by the savages. As the enemy might 
 
l6o PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 still be lurking in the neighborhood, this mis 
 sion would be attended -with some danger, and 
 he called for volunteers to accompany him. 
 Seven men volunteered to go with him, and at 
 their earnest request, John and Dan were al 
 lowed to join the party. Tom Jones was one 
 of the number, and he was directed to act as 
 guide. The arms of the men were carefully 
 examined before starting, and at eight o clock 
 the party left the fort for the scene of the mas 
 sacre. They travelled rapidly, but cautiously, 
 and reached the place in about two hours after 
 setting out. Nothing was seen or heard of the 
 savages on the way, and it was supposed that 
 they had withdrawn from the vicinity immedi 
 ately after the attack on the cabins. 
 
 Upon reaching the site of Jones s cabin, 
 which was the first on the route, they found it 
 in ashes. Everything was destroyed. The 
 growing corn was trampled down, and the 
 carcasses of his cow, pigs, and sheep lay near 
 the site of the cabin. The savages had evi 
 dently taken great pains to make their work of 
 
THE SCOUT. l6l 
 
 destruction as complete as possible, and the 
 owner of the clearing had been unusually for 
 tunate in escaping with his family in safety. 
 The ground, which was soft clay, bore the 
 marks of many feet, and upon a careful ex 
 amination of this trail, Bill Davis, the hunter, 
 said that the enemy had numbered about fifteen 
 men. Following the trail, the settlers came to 
 the ruins of the two cabins which had been 
 first assailed. The work of destruction was as 
 complete here as at the cabin of the Joneses. 
 All the buildings were in ashes, the stock lay 
 about, with their throats cut, and the corn was 
 trampled down and destroyed. But this was 
 not the worst. A heap of charred bones in 
 the midst of the ashes told that the occupants 
 of the dwelling had either fallen by the hands 
 of the enemy, and had been flung into the 
 flames, or that they had been burned to death. 
 One of the families had consisted of six people, 
 three of whom were young children, and the 
 other of four, namely, the parents and two 
 half-grown girls. Six of them had perished 
 ii 
 
162 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 on the spot, but the other four had evidently 
 been carried into captivity, for there were the 
 marks of shoes on the ground, one of them a 
 girl s, another a man s, another a woman s, and 
 the fourth print was made by the bare feet of 
 a little child. The men followed the trail for 
 some distance, and found that it led towards 
 the Ohio, at a point above the mouth of Fish 
 Creek. The savages had evidently escaped 
 with their prisoners, so that it was useless to 
 think of following them. The men then went 
 back to the clearing, and collecting the black 
 ened bones, buried them in a common grave, 
 which they dug with their hunting-knives. 
 This done, they returned to the fort, which they 
 reached late in the afternoon. 
 
 Several weeks passed away without any fur 
 ther trouble from the savages. Towards the 
 middle of August, Captain Oxenford was ac- 
 cocted one morning by Bill Davis, the hunter, 
 as he was crossing the yard of the fort. The 
 old man had .just returned from a visit to 
 Wheeling, and had been waiting for an hour 
 or two to see the cajptain. 
 
THE SCOUT. 163 
 
 "I say, cap ," he said, as the commander 
 of the fort passed him, " I want to speak a 
 word with you." 
 
 "Well," said the captain, pausing, "what 
 is it?" 
 
 " I saw Colonel Shepherd at Fort Henry 
 yesterday," said the hunter, in a low* tone, "and 
 he told me to say to you that a lot of muskets 
 and ammunition had been sent there from the 
 east, for the forts along the border. You ll 
 get your share to-morrow. They ll be put on 
 a raft at Wheeling to-night, and floated down 
 the Ohio to the mouth of this here creek. 
 They ll be here by daybreak, and you must 
 have your men there to receive them. The 
 colonel says you must be very cautious, as a 
 number of Indian scouts have been seen in 
 this part of the country." 
 
 The men were ordered to hold themselves 
 in readiness a little before daybreak the next 
 morning, and at that time they set off for the 
 mouth of the creek, taking with them two or 
 three of the horses. A force was left at the 
 
164 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 fort, sufficient to hold it against any attack, 
 but no one was informed of the object of the 
 expedition. They reached the mouth of the 
 creek about daylight. The raft was in sight, 
 floating slowly down the current. The river 
 was very low at this season, and the current 
 was sluggish. It was half an hour before the 
 vessel reached the place where the party had 
 halted. It brought two men from the garri 
 son of Fort Henry, and two boxes, contain 
 ing twenty muskets, several kegs of powder, 
 and a quantity of bullets. As the raft touched 
 the shore, two or three rifle-shots were fired 
 from the Indian side, showing that the enemy 
 were not far away, and that the precautions 
 of Colonel Shepherd were necessary. It was 
 but the work of a few minutes to remove the 
 articles from the raft, and transfer them to the 
 pack-saddles with which the horses were pro 
 vided. This done, the party returned to the 
 fort, covering their march with a detachment, 
 consisting of Bill Davis, and two other men, 
 who remained half an hour on the river shore, 
 
THE SCOUT. 165 
 
 to observe the movements of the enemy. The 
 Indians made no effort to come over the stream, 
 however, and the hunter came to the conclu 
 sion that the force on the opposite shore was 
 merely a party of scouts, from whom they need 
 not fear an attack. 
 
 The arms and ammunition were sent out by 
 the government of the State of Virginia, and 
 were to be used only for the defence of the fort.. 
 They were carefully put away in the store 
 house. The settlers were all provided with 
 rifles, which they preferred to muskets, and 
 they declared they had but little confidence in 
 the efficacy of the heavy smooth-bores. 
 , Several days after this the old hunter an 
 nounced his intention of making a scout in the 
 Indian country. Seeking out John Oxenford, 
 who was now a well-grown youth of eighteen, 
 he asked him if he would like to accompany 
 him. John replied that nothing would please 
 him better, provided his father s consent to the 
 undertaking could be obtained ; and this the 
 hunter undertook to gain. He at once sought 
 
1 66 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 the captain, and laid his request before him. 
 Captain Oxenford was willing that his sons 
 for Thomas was now a boy large enough for 
 such things should bear their part of the 
 dangers and trials to which the whole settle 
 ment was subject ; but he hesitated at the 
 thought of allowing John to encounter the per 
 ils of the proposed expedition, for which there 
 was really no necessity. 
 
 " He s got to learn to be an Injun-fighter, 
 pretty soon, cap ," said the hunter, " and he had 
 just as well begin now ; and, though I say it, 
 he won t find a better teacher anywhere than 
 me." 
 
 ff I know that, Davis," said the captain. 
 "There isn t a man in the settlement that I d 
 trust quicker than you ; but I don t see the use 
 of this scout. It seems to me like flying in the 
 face of danger." 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said the hunter. " I should 
 die with the blues if I didn t take one of these 
 tramps occasionally. You d better let the boy 
 go with me. It ll do him good." 
 
THE SCOUT. 167 
 
 The captain hesitated a long time, but, at 
 length, yielded to the argument, that, as John 
 had to begin his education as an " Injun-fight 
 er" before very long, he might as well com- 
 mence at once. He consented, however, upon 
 the condition that the hunter should return in 
 a fortnight, to which the old man agreed. 
 John then donned his best suit of deer-skin and 
 his bear-skin cap, and took the rifle which he 
 had won from the Indian he had killed at the 
 lime of his escape, and set out with the old 
 man. 
 
 They left the fort at sunset one bright August 
 afternoon, and, as they turned into the woods, 
 they paused to wave adieu to the boy s parents, 
 who were standing at the gate, watching them 
 depart. They were soon out of sight of the 
 fort, however, and John was glad of it, for his 
 eyes filled with tears as he looked back at those 
 he loved so much. 
 
 "Never mind, lad," said the hunter; "we ll 
 be back before long, and I ll warrant me you ll 
 have a rare story to tell the old folks." 
 
l68 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 They passed along leisurely, and, a little 
 after dark, reached the Ohio, about half way 
 between the mouths of Grove Creek and Fish 
 Creek. The river was so low that the water 
 in the channel came only to their waists, and, 
 removing their moccasons and leggings, they 
 passed over to the Indian shore without diffi 
 culty. Once in the country of the savages, 
 the hunter s manner changed. His footsteps 
 were lighter and more cautious, and he was 
 constantly on the alert. At the slightest sound 
 he would pause and listen intently. He spoke 
 very little ; and when he did so, it was in the 
 lowest and most cautious tone. They struck 
 off boldly from the Ohio ; and by the moon 
 light John could see that they were following 
 a beaten track, which his companion informed 
 him was a Shawnee trail. They camped for 
 the night in the thick woods, just as the moon 
 went down, and were up the next morning by 
 sunrise. They breakfasted on the provisions 
 they had brought with them, and which con 
 sisted of dried venison and parched corn. 
 
THE SCOUT. 169 
 
 During the day they travelled silently, that is, 
 very rarely indulging in conversation, and 
 two more days were passed in the same way. 
 On the morning of the fourth day the hunter shot 
 a stag, as the animal was drinking at a brook, 
 a little after sunrise. They cut off such meat 
 as they could use, and dragged the carcass 
 into the trees. Then, building a fire by the side 
 of the brook, they broiled the venison on the 
 coals. The fatigue of the journey, and the 
 light diet upon which they had been living, 
 had, no doubt, sharpened the boy s appetite, 
 for John, thought he had never eaten anything 
 so delicious as the rich venison steak which he 
 helped to devour that morning. 
 
 Thus far they had seen nothing but game, 
 at which Bill Davis would not allow his com 
 panion to fire, however, lest the report might 
 draw the savages upon them, if any were lurk 
 ing in the neighborhood. John asked him 
 where the path they were following led. The 
 hunter replied that it was the path to the Indian 
 towns on the Scioto River, near which the 
 
I7O PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 present city of Chillicothe is located. He 
 said he was going as near to those towns as 
 he thought it prudent to venture, as he was 
 anxious to see for himself if the Indians really 
 meditated anything like an organized expedi 
 tion against the whites. The old man now be 
 came more talkative than he had been, and told 
 the boy many a story of his adventures among 
 the savages. This day passed away very 
 pleasantly in this manner, and at nightfall they 
 went into camp again. They lighted no fire this 
 time, as the hunter said they were too far in the 
 Indian country to do so with prudence. About 
 an hour after dark, Davis sprang to his feet 
 with a sudden exclamation. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked John, eagerly. 
 
 "Matter enough," replied Davis. "We are 
 nearer to the Indians than I supposed." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 "I can see their camp fire," was the reply. 
 
 " I can see nothing," said John, looking 
 around searchingly. 
 
 "That s likely enough, lad," said the hunter; 
 
THE SCOUT. 
 
 "but when you re as old as I am, and have had 
 as much experience with the Injuns as I have, 
 your eyes 11 be better. Look yonder." 
 
 The hunter pointed in the direction in which 
 they had been travelling during the day, and 
 John strained his eyes to see what had caused 
 his alarm ; but he was disappointed. 
 
 " I can see nothing," he said ; " I think you 
 must be mistaken." 
 
 The hunter laughed softly, and then, step 
 ping behind the boy, he took his head between 
 his hands, and turned his face in the direction 
 in which he wished him to look. 
 
 " Now look at the tops of them hickory trees 
 over yonder," he said. " Do you see a light 
 haze just over the topmost branches?" 
 
 " Yes," answered John, after a pause, during 
 which he made out the light distinctly, " I can 
 see it very plainly." 
 
 "That," said the hunter, releasing his head, 
 "is the glare of their camp fire on the sky. 
 They are right in our track, and it s lucky we 
 didn t build a fire to-night, for that might have 
 betrayed us to them." 
 
172 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 " Do you think there are many of them ? " 
 asked the boy. 
 
 "I can t say," answered the hunter. "The 
 light isn t very strong on the sky, and I think 
 they have only one fire, or two at the most, 
 burning ; but how many of them are in the 
 gang is more than I can tell yet." 
 
 "What do you intend doing? " asked John. 
 
 "Well," said the hunter, slowty, "I m going 
 to take a peep at them." 
 
 " Then I ll go with you," said the boy. " It 11 
 be rare fun to see them without being seen." 
 
 "Well, lad, that depends upon circumstances. 
 I ve looked at Injuns at times when I thought it 
 anything but fun. We ve got into a very dan 
 gerous situation, and we might as well go for 
 ward as go back, for these red devils will find 
 our trail in the morning, and pursue us. My 
 plan is, to try and scare em off, if they are not 
 too strong, and if they are, to go around them, 
 and when they pass on in the morning, to fall 
 in behind them, and travel in their rear. We ll 
 have to be mighty cautious ; and as you value 
 
THE SCOUT. 173 
 
 your neck, my boy, you must obey every order 
 I give, without waiting to have it explained." 
 
 "Very good," said John. "You will find 
 me very obedient in all. things." 
 
 "All right, then," said Davis. "Take your 
 gun now, and come along. Put your feet down 
 flat, so," he added, showing the boy how to 
 place his feet, "and you ll make no noise. 
 Now let s be off; and don t you talk, unless 
 you are spoken to." 
 
 They set off slowly and cautiously, moving 
 in the shade of the trees. The light over the 
 trees grew brighter, and soon they could see it 
 shining through the woods. Long experience, 
 added to an unusual keenness of vision, had 
 given the hunter the power of discerning ob 
 jects by night as distinctly as in the day ; and 
 he led the way, scanning the dim woods closely, 
 with strained eyes. Every moment brought 
 the two nearer to the Indian camp, and in 
 creased their danger of stumbling across some 
 of the savage scouts or sentinels ; but Prov 
 idence favored them, and they succeeded in 
 
174 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 gaining the very outskirts of the camp without 
 being discovered. Here they paused, and, ly 
 ing down in the undergrowth, peered anx 
 iously through the bushes at the scene before 
 them. 
 
 A large fire had been built, and around it 
 about a dozen Indians were seated. They were 
 hideously decked out with war-paint and feath 
 ers, and were evidently prepared for a grand 
 foray upon the settlements. They were talk 
 ing merrily about something which John could 
 not understand, and would frequently burst into 
 shouts of exultant laughter. The hunter, who 
 could speak the Shawnee dialect, understood 
 them, and John heard him grind his teeth 
 furiously. 
 
 " I m going up closer to them, to try to 
 frighten them off," he whispered to John. " Lie 
 here perfectly still. Don t fire, unless you 
 hear me do so." 
 
 He crept a\vay softly, and, after considera 
 ble exertion, managed to pass into the camp, 
 and to climb into a large tree, the branches of 
 
THE SCOUT. 175 
 
 which were not more than sixty feet from the 
 fire. As he settled himself noiselessly among 
 the boughs, he thought, for the first time, how 
 foolish he had been in thus exposing himself 
 and his companion to danger ; and, as he 
 looked down upon the scene below, he could 
 not help asking himself how they should get 
 away. The least sound might betray them, 
 and he knew, if they fell into the hands of those 
 below, they could expect no mercy. He had 
 been too dangerous to them to Jiope they would 
 spare him. He listened carefully to the talk 
 of the savages, and then decided upon his 
 plan of action, which was as singular as it 
 was successful . It was a plan which not ten 
 men in ten thousand could have carried out. 
 Among his many natural gifts was that of ven 
 triloquism ; and as this had often been of use 
 to him in his expeditions as a hunter and a 
 scout, he determined to make use of it now. 
 He understood thoroughly the superstitious na 
 ture of the Indian, and he was about to trust 
 entirely to it for his own safety and that of his 
 companion. 
 
176 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Carefully surveying the scene below, he 
 crawled out noiselessly among the thick branch 
 es of a limb of the tree which was nearest 
 to the fire. Then, throwing his voice down 
 among the blazing fagots, he startled the In 
 dians by crying, in a loud voice, in the Shaw- 
 nee tongue, 
 
 " Warriors, why have you started on the war 
 path ? You are marching to your death ! " 
 
 The savages sprang to their feet in astonish 
 ment, and the hunter lay very still in the tree. 
 Then began a confused jabber of tongues, and 
 the dusky group gathered around the fire, 
 pointing to it, and gesticulating energetically. 
 The Indians were very badly frightened ; but 
 at length a circle was formed around the fire, 
 and one, who was evidently the chief, stepped 
 out alone, preparatory to addressing them. As 
 he opened his lips to speak, the hunter threw 
 his voice into the chief s mouth, and gave a 
 prolonged howl. The savage started back in 
 dismay, and then Davis, with a remarkable 
 facility, changed the voice from one painted 
 
THE SCOUT. 177 
 
 brave to another, causing them to utter noises 
 like cats and dogs, and to give utterance to 
 the most insulting speeches. The chief tried 
 to speak again, but before he could do so, 
 the hunter shouted out from the fire, in good 
 Shawnee, to return home at once; that the 
 curse of the Great Spirit was upon the expe 
 dition. Then he made such a buzzing about 
 the ears of the chief, that the man gave a yell 
 of fear, and, turning, fled, at full speed, into 
 the depths of the forest. The remainder of the 
 band hesitated, but a fresh imprecation from 
 the ventriloquist decided them, and they fled 
 in dismay. 
 
 As soon as they were fairly out of sight, 
 the hunter swung himself down from the tree, 
 and, hastening to where he had left John, who 
 had witnessed the scene with the most complete 
 bewilderment, touched the lad hurriedly. 
 
 " Get up at once, John," he said, hastily. 
 "We must be off from here. Those fellows 
 may come back, after their fright wears off, and 
 we must get as much of a start as we can." 
 
 12 
 
178 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 John was on his feet in an instant, and the 
 two set off rapidly. They realized the danger 
 in which they were placed, and travelled with 
 out speaking, until about two hours before 
 daybreak. Then, leaving the Indian trail, they 
 turned into the woods, and the hunter bade 
 John lie down and get as much sleep as pos 
 sible, as they must be off at sunrise. John 
 gladly obeyed, for he was worn out with the 
 extraordinary fatigue of the past day, and, 
 throwing himself down, he was soon fast asleep. 
 His companion aroused him shortly after sun 
 rise, and they continued their march, or, rath 
 er, their flight, until nightfall, when, finding 
 that they were not pursued, the hunter decided 
 to camp for the night. 
 
 During the day John asked the old man the 
 cause of the sudden terror and flight of the 
 Indians. The hunter laughed heartily at the 
 question, and then explained to the boy the 
 wonderful gift with which he was blessed. lie 
 made John pledge his honor never to reveal 
 the secret, for, he said, it would be of no use 
 
THE SCOUT. 179 
 
 to him if it got out, for the Indians would be 
 sure to hear it, and he could never deceive 
 them again. 
 
 On the afternoon of the fourth day, they 
 reached the Ohio at the place where they had 
 crossed it eight days before, and by sunset 
 they were safe on the Virginia shore. They 
 stopped at the water s edge to put on their 
 lower garments, which they had removed in 
 crossing, and were chatting gayly, for the 
 hunter considered that they were now out of 
 danger, when they were startled by the sharp 
 crack of a rifle on the Indian side. The ball 
 cut a hole in John s bear-skin cap, and startled 
 him not a little. The two caught up their 
 clothing, and hurried up the bank, where they 
 finished their dressing, watching the Indian 
 shore closely in the mean time; but no one 
 was visible there. 
 
 "It was some Indian scout, I reckon," said 
 the hunter, " and it s powerful lucky for us that 
 he didn t blaze away at us while we were on 
 the other side." 
 
l8o PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 A rustle in the bushes attracted John s atten 
 tion at this moment. He had cocked his rifle, 
 and was holding it in readiness for use in case 
 any one should attempt to cross the river after 
 them ; and as he heard the rustle in the bushes, 
 which had escaped the hunter s ear, he turned 
 abruptly, and saw, to his astonishment, an In 
 dian, not twenty yards from them, in the act of 
 aiming his rifle at them. It was the work of 
 an instant to bring his gun to his shoulder and 
 fire. The shot was at random, but it was ex 
 cellent, for the ball struck the savage full in the 
 forehead, just as he was in the act of sighting 
 his rifle, and laid him on the ground, a lifeless 
 corpse. 
 
 "What are you shooting at?" exclaimed the 
 hunter, sharply ; for he had been so much occu 
 pied in watching the Indian shore that he had 
 been unconscious of the danger which had 
 threatened them. 
 
 "Look yonder," said John, pointing to the 
 dead Indian. 
 
 " Whew I " muttered the old man, turning 
 
THE SCOUT. iSl 
 
 pale in spite of himself at the thought of his 
 narrow escape, " they are as thick as hornets. 
 That was well done, though, lad. You ll 
 make a good hunter, if you live long enough. 
 Come, now, and I ll show you how to take his 
 sculp." 
 
 Conquering his repugnance, John went with 
 the hunter to the body, and in a moment 
 severed the savage s scalp from his head. This 
 he swung at his belt, in true hunter style, while 
 the old man secured the Indian s rifle, which 
 he said was too good a weapon to be lost. 
 
 "Now," said John, "I suppose we may as 
 well go back to the fort." 
 
 "Yes," replied the hunter; "the sooner we 
 git thar, the better for us. These Injuns is 
 mighty thick about here, and I m afeard some 
 mischief s afoot." 
 
 They struck through the woods at a rapid 
 pace, and reached the fort about nine o clock. 
 They were at once admitted, and warmly wel 
 comed. The old hunter told the story of the 
 flight of the Indians without revealing his se- 
 
1 82 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 cret, and professed to regard it as a very mys 
 terious affair. While John wisely concluded 
 to volunteer no information upon the subject, 
 Bill Davis was loud in his praise of the boy for 
 his conduct during the scout, and the manner 
 in which he had killed the Indian drew forth 
 the old man s warmest admiration. 
 
THE SIEGE. 183 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SIEGE. 
 
 THE next morning Bill Davis was up at sun 
 rise as fresh as ever ; but John slept late, as he 
 was unused to such severe fatigue as he had 
 undergone during the scout, and was stiff and 
 sore from it. As the hunter crossed the yard, 
 he saw Tom Oxenford, now a little over six 
 teen years old, and a good-sized boy, standing 
 near the gate, fixing his gun hastily. 
 
 "What s the matter, Tom?" he asked, at 
 tracted by the eagerness with which the boy 
 was working. "What are you doing that 
 for?" 
 
 " I m going to shoot a turkey that I hear gob 
 bling on the hill-side," replied the boy. 
 
 " I hear no turkey," said the hunter, listen 
 ing. 
 
 "I heard him distinctly just a minute ago," 
 
184 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 said Tom, " and if he s there yet, I mean to 
 have him. There, don t you hear him?" he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 This time the hunter did hear what the boy 
 supposed to be a turkey, and in a few minutes 
 the sound was repeated again. 
 
 "Well, Tom," said the old man, quietly, "I ll 
 go and kill that turkey." 
 
 "No, you won t," cried Tom; "it s my tur 
 key, for I heard it first." 
 
 "Your fathers orders are positive that you 
 shall not leave the fort," said the hunter. 
 "Besides, I m the best marksman; and as I 
 don t want the turkey, I ll go and kill it for 
 you." 
 
 Tom had forgotten all about his father s 
 orders in his eagerness to get a shot at the tur 
 key, and he recollected now that it would be 
 impossible for him to leave the fort in the face 
 of this prohibition. He handed his gun to the 
 hunter with a sigh. 
 
 "All right, Bill," he said; "but remember 
 it s my turkey." 
 
THE SIEGE. 185 
 
 Bill Davis left the fort at once ; but instead of 
 going in the direction of the sound, he walked 
 rapidly up the creek, to the disappointment of 
 Tom, who felt sure that he would miss the 
 turkey. The hunter entered the woods about 
 a quarter of a mile above the fort, and, guided 
 by the gobbling, passed around through the 
 trees, in order to come upon the turkey from 
 behind. In a few minutes he came in sight of 
 it, and a glance confirmed his suspicions. An 
 Indian was sitting on a chestnut stump, par 
 tially concealed by a small bush, and was gob 
 bling like a turkey. He was waitirg to see if 
 any one would come out from the fort to kill 
 the turkey, in which case he would be sure to 
 kill the person before the latter could discover 
 the deception. He was utterly unconscious of 
 the hunter s presence, however, and the old 
 man crept up cautiously within easy range of 
 him, and shot him through the head. He took 
 the fellow s scalp, and hastened back to the 
 fort. 
 
 Tom Oxenford, who had been waiting 
 
1 86 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 impatiently at the fort, heard the shot, and was 
 in great eagerness to get his prize. As he saw 
 the old man come in through the gateway 
 without the turkey, he almost cried with vexa 
 tion. 
 
 " There, now," he exclaimed, sharply, 
 "you ve let the turkey go. I knew you 
 would. I would have killed it if I had gone." 
 
 "I didn t let it go, Tom," said the hunter, 
 quietly. 
 
 "Then where is it?" asked the boy. 
 
 "There," replied the old man, throwing the 
 bloody scalp down on the ground before the 
 boy. " There, Tom, take your turkey ; I don t 
 want it." 
 
 Tom gazed at the scalp in utter bewilder 
 ment, and then there flashed across his mind a 
 full sense of the dreadful fate from which Bill 
 Davis s quickness and good sense had saved 
 him ; and seizing the old man s hand, he burst 
 
 into tears. 
 
 "There, there, lad," said the hunter, laugh 
 ing ; " don t blubber at a dead Injun s sculp. 
 
THE SIEGE. 187 
 
 But I say, Tom," he added, roguishly, " don t 
 you ever mistake a red-skin for a turkey 
 agin ." 
 
 The incident was soon known throughout 
 the fort, and "Tom s turkey" became a by 
 word. 
 
 V 
 
 A week passed away quietly. About the 
 tenth of September, news was received from 
 Grove Creek that the savages, under the in 
 famous renegade Simon Girty, had attempted 
 to capture Fort Henry, at Wheeling, and had 
 been defeated. The messenger went back to 
 Grove Creek that night, and as it was not 
 improbable that the Indians might make an 
 attempt on the fort at Fish Creek, Captain 
 Oxenford resolved to be on his guard. 
 
 Four of the men left the fort one morning 
 to cross over to the south side of the creek to 
 get a kettle that had been left in one of the 
 cabins. They had reached the water, and 
 were about to ford it, when several shots were 
 fired at them from the woods. One of the 
 men fell dead at the verge of the creek, and 
 
1 88 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 the other three started at full speed for the fort. 
 The gate Was held in readiness to admit them ; 
 but as they came within fifty yards of the 
 defences, a heavy volley was poured at them 
 from the woods with fatal effect. 
 
 "Bar up the gate, boys," cried Bill Davis, 
 quickly. " Them poor fellows is out of harm s 
 way now ; but, if I ain t mightily mistaken 
 we re in for a sight of work." 
 
 The gate was made fast, and the settlers, 
 alarmed by the heavy firing, came rushing 
 out of their cabins into the yard, to learn the 
 cause of it. The first person that approached 
 Bill Davis was the wife of one of the men 
 who had been killed. The hunter did not 
 know how to tell her of her loss, and he ran by 
 her without replying to her eager questions. 
 
 "Get your guns, men," he shouted; "the fort 
 is attacked." 
 
 Then hurrying to Captain Oxenford s quar 
 ters, ^he called to Mrs. Oxenford, who was 
 busy helping her husband to cut away the 
 wooden strips which covered the loop-holes. 
 
THE SIEGE. 189 
 
 "Mrs. Oxenford," said he, "Vent and Spen 
 cer have been killed by the savages. Please 
 go and tell their wives, for I haven t the heart 
 to do it. You women can do these things 
 better than I can." 
 
 Mrs. Oxenford hastened to the cabins of the 
 afflicted families, but the poor women had al 
 ready heard the sad news, and were weeping 
 violently. She did what she could to comfort 
 them ; but, ah I the kindest, tenderest sympathy 
 is powerless to console in cases like this. 
 
 " How many men have we lost, Davis ? " 
 asked Captain Oxenford, as his wife went 
 out. * 
 
 " Four, sir ; Vent and Spencer, and two of 
 the hunters. Vent was killed first, and the 
 others were cut down by that volley you heard 
 jist now. Take my word for it, cap , we ve 
 got trouble in store for us, for thar s a strong 
 body of Injuns in them woods." 
 
 Captain Oxenford, having cleared away the 
 loop-holes in his quarters, now hurried into the 
 yard of the fort, and summoned the men to 
 
1 90 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 his side. The garrison at this time consisted 
 of sixteen able-bodied men and boys, all of 
 whom were good marksmen. These were re 
 quired to have their powder-horns and bullet- 
 pouches slung at their sides, and the women 
 were set to moulding the lead into bullets, and 
 preparing bandages for those who might be 
 wounded. These things once arranged, the 
 .men were ordered to occupy the cabins and 
 block-houses on the side nearest the Indians, 
 who were still in the woods. 
 
 It was but seven o clock in the morning, 
 and the day was bright and beautiful. The 
 Indians were still concealed in the woods, and 
 had remained perfectly quiet after firing the 
 volley which killed the settlers, not even ven 
 turing out to scalp their victims. Half an 
 hour passed away, and the silence began to 
 be oppressive. The garrison had orders to 
 await the movements of the enemy, and to 
 fire slowly and deliberately, and not to \\ 
 a shot. At the end of the half hour a terrific 
 yell arose from the woods, and the Indians 
 
THE SIEGE. 
 
 emerged from their cover, and advanced to 
 wards the fort. They were about three hun 
 dred strong, and their line extended from the 
 woods around to the creek, and down to the 
 cornfield in the bottom. As they left the 
 woods, a loud whoop arose on their right, and 
 was taken up and passed along their line from 
 right to left. They threw their left wing into 
 the cornfield, their right clung to the woods 
 just back of the fort, and detached parties 
 were thrown into the cabins and stables of 
 Captain Oxenford and Mr. Whittaker, which 
 were within rifle range of the fort. This dis 
 position of the savage forces was very skilful, 
 as* it placed nearly every man under cover, 
 and occupied ground from which a sharp fire 
 could be directed upon the fort. It took about 
 twenty minutes to complete these arrangements, 
 and at the end of that time an Indian advanced 
 from the woods towards the fort, carrying a 
 dirty white cloth, which he waved as a flag 
 of truce. He paused within speaking distance, 
 and gave a loud halloo ! 
 
PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 "What do you want?" asked Captain Oxen- 
 ford, who was standing at one of the loop 
 holes. 
 
 "Me big Injun heap," said the savage, 
 striking his breast pompously. 
 
 " You are very well grown for your age, my 
 beauty," cried Bill Davis, who was looking 
 out from the loop-hole next to the captain. 
 
 The settlers greeted this remark with a 
 laugh, which seemed to excite the Indian s 
 wrath, for he struck his breast still more vio 
 lently, and called out lustily, 
 
 " Me big Injun ; much heap." 
 
 "What do you want?" called Captain Oxen- 
 ford again. 
 
 " Give up, give up fort," shouted the savage. 
 "Too many Injun. Injun too big. No kill." 
 
 "You are a parcel of cowards," cried the 
 captain. " Come on as soon as you wish. We 
 are ready for you ; and as soon as you show 
 your yellow hides, we ll make holes in them 
 for you." 
 
 " Go back," called the old hunter, mocking- 
 
THE SIEGE. 
 
 193 
 
 ly. " Tell your people to send a warrior to 
 talk with us. You are an old squaw." 
 
 The savage uttered a howl of rage as he 
 heard the insulting language of the hunter. 
 He shook his fist at the walls, and called out 
 something in the Indian tongue. Just then 
 Tom Oxenford, unable to resist the temptation, 
 fired at him, and the ball struck him in the 
 arm, causing him to drop his flag, and take 
 to his heels. 
 
 As the W 7 ounded red-skin reached his lines, 
 the Indians fired a general volley at the fort, 
 and the very earth seemed to shake under the 
 discharge of the three hundred rifles. The set 
 tlers could hear the balls strike the logs with a 
 dull thud ; but as all the whites were under 
 cover, no one was hurt. The firing was now 
 kept up pretty rapidly, the savages feeling so 
 sure of success that they fired at random. The 
 principal attack was upon the north side of the 
 fort, and the main strength of the garrison 
 was collected there, only one of the boys 
 being stationed in each of the other block- 
 13 
 
194 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 houses to fire upon the enemy, and watch their 
 movements in that quarter. The whites fired 
 slowly and deliberately, and whenever a dusky 
 warrior exposed himself at all, he was sure to 
 receive a rifle-ball as the reward of his daring. 
 The savages acted in a very reckless manner, 
 and it was evident that they were all very 
 much under the influence of whiskey. Late 
 in the afternoon the enemy advanced closer to 
 the fort on the side of the woods, and as, in 
 doing so, they exposed themselves more than 
 they had previously done, the fire from the 
 fort became more rapid and fatal. 
 
 John Oxenford had been stationed in the 
 block-house overlooking the cornfield, to which 
 the Indian left wing still clung. He could 
 only see an occasional puff of smoke from the 
 rows of corn, and hear the crack of a hostile 
 rifle immediately afterwards, but during the 
 morning he could not get a shot at anything. 
 The firing on the other side of the fort excited 
 him very much, and it required all his reso 
 lution to enable him to stay at his post. 
 
THE SIEGE. 195 
 
 In the afternoon, however, matters changed. 
 The Indians, finding that their fire was not re 
 turned on this side of the fort, seemed to think 
 that the attention of the garrison was occupied 
 on the other side, and that they might be able 
 to send a party over the walls in this quarter. 
 About four o clock Dan Whittaker came into 
 the block-house, where John was standing, look 
 ing eagerly through a loop-hole at the move 
 ments of the Indians. 
 
 "John," he said, "}^our father has sent me 
 here to ask how matters are going in this 
 quarter. What shall I say?" 
 
 " I haven t had a shot at them to-day, Dan," 
 said John, without turning his head. 
 
 "What are you looking aj:? " asked Dan, 
 going to one of the loop-holes. 
 
 " Look at those Indians in the cornfield," 
 said John. "What are they doing?" 
 
 " They seem to be coming this way," said 
 Dan. "You keep an eye on em, John, and 
 I ll go ask the captain to send some of the 
 men to this side." 
 
196 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Dan ran out of the block-house, and has 
 tened across the yard. 
 
 "Til have a shot this time," thought John; 
 and sure enough he was right. 
 
 About thirty Indians now left their cover in 
 the cornfield, and commenced to creep stealth 
 ily towards the fort. Their rifles were slung 
 across their backs, and they were unencum 
 bered with anything that could impede their 
 progress. John watched them eagerly, and, 
 cocking his rifle, brought it up to the loop 
 hole. The next moment the Indians were with 
 in a hundred yards of the walls. One of them, 
 who seemed to be the leader of the party, 
 raised his hand above his head, to wave on 
 his men ; and, taking advantage of this, John 
 drew a bead on his exposed breast, and fired. 
 The savage tottered for an instant, and then 
 fell heavily to the ground. At this moment 
 Dan Whittaker and one of the hunters came 
 bounding into the room. 
 
 "They re right on us, Dan. Be quick," 
 cried John, who was reloading his rifle with 
 all possible speed. 
 
THE SIEGE. * 197 
 
 "All right," said Dan, as his companion 
 and himself took their posts at the loop-holes. 
 " There are three more men in the block-house 
 at the other corner." 
 
 The Indians had hesitated for a moment, 
 as they saw their leader fall ; but they dashed 
 forward now at a sharp run, encouraged by 
 the fact that but one shot had been fired at 
 them. They were doomed to disappointment, 
 however, for the five men, who had come to 
 John s assistance, opened on them from the 
 two corners of the fort which commanded their 
 approach, and as each man had marked out 
 his victim, the fire resulted in the death of five 
 Indians. Still the savages pressed on, uttering 
 yells that made the hearers blood run cold. 
 They reached the base of the walls, and some 
 of them tried to climb up the smooth sides to 
 the roof above ; but the defenders had now re 
 loaded, and were prepared for them. Each 
 one fired at will ; and, as the savages were 
 within point-blank range, the shots were all 
 effective. Not one was thrown away. Two 
 
Ip . PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 of the red-skins were shot on the walls, and 
 the savages began to find that they were in a 
 very warm place ; so, abandoning the under 
 taking, they fled in dismay to the cornfield, 
 leaving nine of their men on the ground, and 
 carrying off four or five wounded. The set 
 tlers were all tried marksmen, and it was very 
 rare that their shots resulted in anything but 
 death. 
 
 "That was pretty well done, * said Dan 
 Whittaker, as the Indians disappeared in the 
 standing corn. "I don t think they ll try that 
 again very soon." 
 
 "I reckon not," said John. "They ve been 
 very severely punished ; but it was lucky for 
 us all, Dan, that you came here when you did. 
 I couldn t have given the alarm and watched 
 those fellows at the same time ; and it was my 
 shooting that chief that made the red-skins halt. 
 If they had kept on, they might have climbed 
 the wall before you and the others came." 
 
 Late in the afternoon a sharp fire, accom 
 panied by loud yells, was opened on the west 
 
THE SIEGE. 
 
 199 
 
 side of the fort, which drew most of the gar 
 rison in that direction. Under the cover of 
 this attack, a party of eighteen or twenty In 
 dians, armed with rails and logs of wood, made 
 an impetuous dash at the gateway of the fort. 
 The movement was detected, however, by old 
 Bill Davis. 
 
 "Come on, boys," he cried, excitedly, rush 
 ing to the cabins where the men were engaged ; 
 "the red devils are beating down the gate. 
 Quick ! they ll be inside in a minute." 
 
 Captain Oxenford sent ten men, with the 
 old man, to the row of stables, the loop-holes 
 of which commanded the gateway. They ar 
 rived in good time, for the savages were already 
 battering away at the enclosure, which was 
 not capable of withstanding such heavy blows. 
 The settlers opened a sharp fire upon the as 
 tonished Indians, who had imagined that their 
 movement was not known to the whites, and 
 in five minutes the enemy were driven back, 
 with the loss of five or six of their number. 
 Their comrades greeted this failure with yells 
 
2OO PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 of rage, and until sunset poured a heavy fire 
 upon the fort from all sides. Only one man 
 was wounded in the garrison. A rifle ball 
 came into one of the block-houses, through a 
 loop-hole, and struck one of the settlers in the 
 shoulder. The wound was painful, but not at 
 all dangerous, and the man was turned over to 
 the women, who dressed his shoulder. 
 
 At nightfall the fire of the savages slackened, 
 and for several hours only an occasional shot 
 was fired. No one slept in the fort. The men 
 were equally distributed among the four block 
 houses, and were ordered to hold themselves 
 in readiness to repel an attack at any moment. 
 There was no necessity for this order, however, 
 for no one felt like sleeping with the enemy 
 so near. 
 
 John Oxenford, Dan Whittaker, and Bill 
 Davis were all in the same block-house. No 
 lights were allowed in the fort, for it was feared 
 that they might draw the fire of the savages 
 upon the loop-holes, and that some one might 
 be injured in this way. The two boys rarely 
 
THE SIEGE. 2OI 
 
 left the loop-holes, and kept straining their eyes 
 through the darkness to try to make out the 
 movements of the enemy. About an hour after 
 midnight, John touched Dan, and told him to 
 watch the ground about half way between the 
 two block-houses on this side of the fort. 
 
 "There is something moving there, I am cer 
 tain," he said, in a low tone. 
 
 " Nonsense," said Dan ; " it s your imagina 
 tion." 
 
 "I mean to give it a shot, anyhow," said 
 John ; and, slipping his gun through the loop 
 hole, he aimed carefully at the object which had 
 attracted his attention. The report of his rifle 
 was answered by a howl of pain, and the boys 
 heard the scampering of feet in the direction 
 of the Indian lines. 
 
 "What do you think of that, Dan?" John 
 asked, triumphantly. 
 
 "Well," replied Dan, "you were right it 
 seems ; but I never should have fired at that 
 thing." 
 
 The next morning it was found that the In- 
 
2O2 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 dians had removed their dead during the night, 
 and had scalped and horribly mutilated the set 
 tlers that had been killed at the opening of the 
 attack. On the spot where John had wounded 
 the Indian during the night was a considerable 
 quantity of fodder and dried grass. The boy 
 pointed it out to the old hunter, and asked if he 
 could tell why it was placed there. 
 
 " O, yes," replied the old man ; " that s plain 
 enough. The varmint you shot last night was 
 try in to put it under the wall of the fort." 
 
 " What was that for ? " asked the boy. 
 
 "To burn us out, you ninny," said the old 
 man, laughing; "but when you hit him, he 
 dropped it, I suppose, and ran back ; so your 
 shot saved us a powerful sight of trouble. Put 
 ting out that fire under the rifles of the red- 
 bellies wouldn t have been any fun, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 The savages reopened the attack at sunrise, 
 and continued it during the day. Their losses 
 had been so severe, however, that they were 
 
 more prudent than during the first day. They 
 
 i 
 
THE SIEGE. 2O3 
 
 kept under cover, and it was rare that the set 
 tlers were able to inflict any injury upon them. 
 The men were much worn down by loss of 
 sleep and fatigue, and Captain Oxenford, think 
 ing it likely that it would be necessary to keep 
 them up all night, stationed a sentinel in each 
 block-house, with orders to keep up a show of 
 firing, and gave the rest permission to sleep 
 on the floor of the block-houses in which they 
 were stationed. He did not close his eyes, 
 however. 
 
 During all this time, the women had behaved 
 nobly. Even the poor creatures whose hus 
 bands had been killed kept their grief to them 
 selves, and refrained from embarrassing or 
 unmanning the defenders of the fort by a show 
 of timidity. They were busy moulding bullets, 
 and kept the men well supplied with them. 
 They served them with their meals at their 
 posts, and throughout the whole siege not a 
 murmur or a timid word was heard from them. 
 They were a brave, heroic race, those pioneer 
 women, and they were worthy mothers of the 
 
204 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 men who have made the sweet west so powerful 
 and glorious. 
 
 Bill Davis kept the captain company. He 
 could not sleep, he said, with the rifles of the 
 enemy cracking all around him, and as for 
 fatigue, he was used to that. He kept a close 
 watch over the movements of the enemy, for he 
 had very little faith in the vigilance of the sen 
 tinels in the block-houses. 
 
 " Look yonder, cap ," he exclaimed ; " look 
 at them Injuns by your cabin, over yonder. 
 Hang me if they hain t got a white gal along 
 with em." 
 
 The captain looked in the direction indicated, 
 and, sure enough, there was a white woman 
 in the midst of the savages. She disappeared 
 in a few minutes, leaving the two men very 
 much perplexed by her presence in such in 
 appropriate company. 
 
 "She s a prisoner, I reckon," said the hunter. 
 w She s some poor cretur the red-bellies has 
 stolen away ; and if they don t kill her, they ll 
 take her with em, and make a squaw of 
 
THE SIEGE. 2O5 
 
 her; and, to my mind, that s jist as bad as 
 losin your har." 
 
 At sunset the fire of the Indians was in 
 creased, and a fresh attempt was made to storm 
 the gateway ; but this was driven off, with a 
 loss of six or seven men to the enemy. 
 
 As the savages retired, the defenders heard 
 a loud cheer without, accompanied by rapid 
 firing, and a succession of Indian yells. -*The 
 sounds grew louder, and seemed to be coming 
 towards the fort. The -hunter hastened to the 
 block-house, which commanded a view of the 
 spot from which the noise proceeded. The 
 next moment he came rushing back. 
 
 "Open the gate," he shouted. "There s a 
 company of mounted men coming to help us, 
 and they re cutting their way through the In 
 juns. Open the gate, and let em in." 
 
 The horsemen were now within a few yards 
 of the fort, and, as the gate was thrown open, 
 they dashed into the enclosure at full speed. 
 The Indians pressed on hotly after them, and 
 tried to enter the fort with them ; but the 
 
206 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 settlers, who had been expecting this, gave the 
 savages a volley which sent them reeling back 
 towards the cornfield. The gate was closed 
 and securely barred, and the garrison turned 
 to welcome their friends. The new corners 
 consisted of twenty men from Grove Creek. 
 They had heard of the attack on the fort from 
 their scouts, and had hastened to the assist- 
 anc* of their friends. Fortunately, they had 
 but two men wounded in cutting their way 
 through the Indians. They were warmly wel 
 comed, for their generous heroism was fully 
 appreciated by the settlers. 
 
 After the arrival of the horsemen, the fire of 
 the Indians ceased altogether, and during the 
 next five or six hours, everything was per 
 fectly still. Some of the settlers thought the 
 savages had given up the siege and withdrawn ; 
 but Bill Davis shook his head sagely, and de 
 clared they were only up to some " deviltry." 
 
 About midnight, John Oxenford was cross 
 ing the yard from his father s quarters to the 
 block-house, to which he *had been assigned, 
 
THE SIEGE. 207 
 
 and, in doing so, he passed by the gate. He 
 thought he heard a faint tapping at it, and 
 paused to listen. 
 
 " Please let me in," cried a plaintive voice 
 without. John listened again, and the cry was 
 repeated. 
 
 "Who are you, and what do you want?" he 
 asked, going up to the gate. 
 
 " Let me in ; the Indians w r ill kill me," cried 
 the voice, loudly. Then it added, in a low 
 tone, "Can you hear me if I speak very low ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied John, lowering his own voice ; 
 "but what do you want?" 
 
 " I m a girl," said the voice in a low tone. 
 " The Indians took me prisoner yesterday morn 
 ing. They have sent me here to get you to 
 open the gate and let me in ; but don t do it 
 don t do it. As soon as you open the gate for 
 me, they will rush in, and murder the garrison. 
 They will kill me if I fail, but I had better die 
 than all of you." 
 
 "Where are the Indians?" asked the boy, 
 touched by the girl s heroism. 
 
208 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 r> 
 
 "They are lying on the ground within a few 
 yards of the gate," she answered, "and can 
 hear you, if you speak very loud." 
 
 " Stay here till I come back," said John, "and 
 keep your ear close to the gate, so you can 
 hear me when I speak to you. I mean, to try 
 to save you, and I think I can do it." 
 
 The girl continued her cry, and John has 
 tened to find his father and the old hunter, to 
 whom he related the strange occurrence. 
 
 "She s a noble girl," said the captain, "and 
 we must save her, if we can." 
 
 " She s the gal we saw this morning," said 
 the hunter; "and, between us, I think we can 
 save her." 
 
 The old man then stated to the captain a 
 plan for the rescue of the girl, which was in 
 stantly approved. The three then hastened to 
 the gate, where the girl was still uttering her 
 cries. 
 
 "Are you there yet?" asked John, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 "Yes," she answered, cautiously. 
 
THE SIEGE. 209 
 
 "Where are the Indians?" 
 
 " In the same place." 
 
 "Can they see you?" 
 
 "No, not plainly; it is too dark." 
 
 "Then listen to me," said John. "A rope 
 will be lowered over the wall, about three feet 
 from the right hand side of the gate, in a few 
 minutes. Move yourself there cautiously, and 
 feel along the wall till you find the rope. Tie 
 the lower end of it to your waist, and catch 
 it above your head with your hands. When 
 you have done this, pull the rope gently with 
 your hands, so that we may know when you 
 are ready, and we will draw you up on the 
 roof." 
 
 " O, thank you ! thank you ! " said the girl, 
 eagerly. " Go d bless you for your kindness." 
 
 "Hush!" said John. "The Indians will 
 hear you. Now go, for w r e shall lower the 
 rope right away." 
 
 John joined his father and the hunter, who 
 had climbed to the roof of the stables, and had 
 dropped one end of a stout rope over the wall 
 
210 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 at the appointed place. In a minute or two 
 they felt the rope being drawn gently once or 
 twice, which was the signal that all was in 
 readiness below. All three then seized the 
 rope, and, the girl s light weight offering but 
 a slight obstacle to their united efforts, they 
 soon had her drawn up to the roof. The 
 next moment she was by their side. 
 
 " Now," said the captain, w get down that 
 ladder into the yard, quick. They may 
 see us." 
 
 He had scarcely spoken, when several shots 
 were fired at them from without, followed by 
 a scattering volley, telling plainly that the In 
 dians had discovered the rescue of the girl, 
 and the failure of their own ruse. But the 
 fire did no damage. The girl had reached 
 the yard, and the others lay down flat on the 
 sloping roof, and the balls whistled over them. 
 As soon as the firing ceased, they swung them 
 selves down into the yard, where the rescued 
 captive was awaiting them. 
 
 "Now, John," said the captain, "you and 
 
THE SIEGE. 211 
 
 Davis must go back to your posts. I ll take 
 this girl to your mother, and she shall look 
 after her to-night." 
 
 The group then separated. Towards morn 
 ing a bright light shone in through the loop 
 holes, and it was found that the Indians were 
 setting fire to the cabins outside of the fort. 
 
 "That s a good sign," said the hunter. 
 
 "Why?" asked John. 
 
 " It means that they ve given up the hope 
 of taking the fort, and are going away," was 
 the reply. "I think we shall git off pretty 
 well, my lad." 
 
 The hunter was right. The savages made 
 no further demonstration during the night, and 
 at sunrise there were no signs of them visible. 
 The garrison remained in the fort during the 
 day, but the next morning a party was sent 
 out to follow the trail of the enemy, and found 
 that they had fled across the Ohio into their 
 own country. The danger being over, the 
 Grove Creek horsemen bade adieu to their 
 friends, and returned home. 
 
212 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 The fort had been gallantly held. The sav 
 ages numbered three hundred chosen warriors, 
 and they were exasperated by their failure to 
 take Fort Henry at Wheeling, and Rice s Fort, 
 on Buffalo Creek, and were resolved to de 
 stroy the Fish Creek settlement at all hazards. 
 Their loss was never known accurately, as 
 they carried off their killed and wounded ; but 
 it was confidently believed to be not less than 
 sixty, of whom the greater number were killed. 
 The loss of the settlers was insignificant. Be 
 sides the four men who had been killed at the 
 opening of the siege, only one of their number 
 had been wounded. The two wounded men 
 belonging to the Grove Creek horsemen were 
 not members of the garrison, and they came 
 when the victory was practically won. The 
 settlers had a right to feel proud, for the stand 
 they had made had been in defence of the 
 liberties of America, as well as for their own 
 immediate protection. The attack was one of 
 a series inaugurated and carried on by the 
 British Governor Hamilton, of Detroit, and the 
 
THE SIEGE. 213 
 
 savages had been supplied with arms and ma 
 terials of war by the government of Great 
 Britain, which had resolved to destroy the 
 young Republic, if it could not reduce it to 
 submission. 
 
214 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE CAPTURE. 
 
 THE morning after the burning of the cabins 
 by the Indians, John went home to breakfast, 
 the first meal the family had eaten since the 
 siege began. He found the young girl that 
 had been rescued the night before helping his 
 mother about her household duties, and as she 
 saw him enter, she came forward frankly, and 
 offered him her hand. She was a fine speci 
 men of the frontier maiden, and there was not 
 a prettier girl along the whole border. She 
 was about his own age ; and the roses on her 
 cheeks would have extorted the envy of many 
 a city belle. John took her offered hand bash 
 fully, and his color deepened as she thanked 
 him for saving her from the Indians. He stam 
 mered out something about being very glad to 
 serve her, and his confusion was increased as 
 
THE CAPTURE. 2 15 
 
 he saw his mother glancing at him with a 
 smile, the meaning of which he read at once. 
 The good dame saw through the simple boy in 
 an instant, and she was not altogether sorry 
 that he had lost his heart from the moment he 
 laid eyes on the pretty stranger. 
 
 The maiden said her name was Annie Clarke, 
 and that she was an orphan. She had been 
 living with some distant relatives, who had re 
 cently located a few miles back of the Grove 
 Creek Fort. They had not thought it worth 
 while to seek refuge in the fort ; and on the day 
 before the attack on the Fish Creek settlement, 
 the savages had made a descent on their clea/- 
 ing, and had massacred all the family but the 
 young girl. They had brought her with them, 
 intending to carry her to their towns, and marry 
 her to one of their young men. Being baffled 
 in all their attempts to take the Fish Creek Fort, 
 they had sent her to act as a decoy, hoping to 
 surprise the garrison in this way ; but the heroic 
 girl had resolved to put the whites on their 
 guard, even at the cost of her own life. The 
 
2l6 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 result had not been in accordance with her 
 expectations. She said she had no friends in 
 the world now, and that she knew not what 
 to do. 
 
 After breakfast that morning, Mrs. Oxenford 
 had a long talk with the captain about the pretty 
 stranger. She had taken a decided interest in 
 her, and she was anxious to keep her with her, 
 as one of the family. She mentioned that she 
 thought John was disposed to fall in love with 
 her. She was glad of this, as she wanted him 
 to marry as soon as he could after he came 
 of age ; and if he fancied this girl, she (his 
 mother) would have an opportunity of contrib 
 uting to the formation of the character of her 
 son s wife. She had a dread of her boy s 
 marrying a stranger. So it was settled that 
 Annie Clarke should remain in the family as 
 one of them. Nothing was to be said about the 
 matrimonial part of the affair, but the young 
 people were to be left to take their own course. 
 Annie was well pleased with the offer of a 
 home, and accepted it gratefully ; and as for 
 
THE CAPTURE. 
 
 John, he was delighted with the arrange 
 ment. 
 
 Three years passed away. John was now of 
 age, and had grown up into a tall, fine-looking 
 young fellow. Annie had fulfilled her early 
 promise, and had become a beautiful woman, 
 and it was decided that she and John should be 
 married the next year. The settlers had re 
 mained in the fort since the events describeed in 
 the last chapter ; for although nothing of such 
 a momentous character had transpired during 
 the interval, the Indians had shown too much 
 activity to make it safe for any one to live out 
 side the walls of the fortification. There had 
 been neither deaths nor removals to decrease 
 the population of the settlement ; but, on the 
 contrary, there had been several additions to the 
 community in the shape of three or four plump 
 pioneer babies. The old hunter, Bill Davis, 
 had abandoned his roving life to a great extent, 
 and had settled down at the fort. He said he 
 meant to wait there until John and Annie were 
 married, and then he would pass the rest of his 
 days with them, whereveV they might go. 
 
2l8 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 It was exactly three years from the day of 
 the attack on the fort, and was now the middle 
 of September, 1780. About eight o clock in the 
 morning, a heavy, black smoke was seen rising 
 in the direction of Grove Creek. It was evi 
 dent that it proceeded from some extraordinary 
 cause, and the settlers were very much per 
 plexed about it. 
 
 Tm afraid the fort at Grove Creek is on 
 fire," said Captain Oxenford to the old hunter. 
 
 "So am I, cap ," replied the old man. "No 
 ordinary cabin would make a smoke like that." 
 
 " I think we ought to send out and see what 
 is the matter," said the captain. " You know 
 our friends there came promptly to our assist 
 ance when they thought we were in dan- 
 ger." 
 
 "You are right, cap ," said the hunter. " I ll 
 go if I can get ten men to go with me." 
 
 " I ll go," said John and Dan in a breath. 
 Several others professed their willingness to 
 join the party, and the number was soon made 
 up. They left the fort at once, well armed, 
 
THE CAPTURE. 2 19 
 
 and took the shortest route to Grove Creek. 
 They marched rapidly, in Indian file, the hunter 
 leading the way. They had passed over half 
 the distance between the two forts, when the 
 hunter suddenly gave the command to halt. 
 
 "Boys," said he, in a low tone, "I can t get 
 rid of the idea that thar s Injuns about. Now, it 
 won t do for us to run right into em without 
 knowing it." 
 
 "How will you prevent it?" asked one of the 
 men. 
 
 "Easy," replied the hunter. "One of us 
 must go ahead a little distance, and if thar s 
 any Injuns about, they ll be apt to fire at him 
 first, and the rest of us can get out of the way, 
 or be ready for em." 
 
 "That s all very good, except for the man 
 that goes ahead," said the settler. 
 
 " I intend to be that man," said the hunter, 
 quietly. 
 
 " We d better draw straws for it," said one of 
 the men. 
 
 "Certainly; that will be fair," was the gen 
 eral exclamation. 
 
220 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 "No, boys," said the hunter, firmly; "I m in 
 command of this party, and I ll expose none of 
 you to the danger of such a venture. I ll do 
 the reconnoitring myself. If I m killed, why, 
 nobody 11 miss me. You ve all got mothers, 
 and wives, and sisters at the fort, while I ve 
 got nobody but this here boy ; " and he laid 
 his hand affectionately on John s shoulder. 
 
 "Thank you, Bill," said John, softly. 
 
 " Now, boys," resumed the hunter, " I ll go 
 ahead, and do you follow me at about a hundred 
 yards distance. Be ready for action at a sec 
 ond s warning." 
 
 The men caught their rifles at a " ready," and 
 they set off again, with the hunter about a hun 
 dred yards in front. They passed over another 
 mile of the way without speaking, when sud 
 denly the hunter paused, and waited for them 
 to come up with him. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked John. 
 
 " Look yonder," said the old man, pointing 
 along the pathway they were travelling ; " don t 
 you see them Injun trinkets? Well, sure as 
 
THE CAPTURE. 221 
 
 we live, the red-bellies themselves ain t far 
 away." 
 
 The path a few yards in advance of them 
 was strewn with Indian trinkets and beads, 
 and the men felt very confident that the hunter 
 was right in his suspicions of the proximity of 
 the savages. 
 
 "What shall we do?" asked one of the men. 
 
 "We ll quit this path, and cut around through 
 the woods," said the hunter. "It isn t safe to 
 keep this road any longer ; so we ll wheel 
 about at once." 
 
 They were standing in a narrow bridle-path, 
 with the thick woods on each side of them. 
 As the hunter spoke, a heavy volley was 
 poured into them from each side of the road. 
 Two of them fell dead, and a third \vas slight 
 ly wounded. 
 
 " Take to the trees, and run for it, boys," 
 shouted the hunter. " They ve got to load 
 agin." 
 
 The survivors now set off at a rapid pace 
 for the fort, with the savages in hot pursuit. 
 
222 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 There were about twenty Indians in the at 
 tacking party, and this number was reduced 
 by three or four, who fell beneath the unerring 
 rifles of the whites in the running fight which 
 ensued, and which was continued for several 
 miles. At length there was a sharp crack of 
 a rifle immediately behind John Oxenford, and 
 the young man felt something sting the calf 
 of his leg; and the next instant he sank to 
 the ground, utterly unable to run another step. 
 He knew he had been wounded, and he ex 
 pected to be killed the next moment. To his 
 utter astonishment, he saw Dan Whittaker 
 stop by his side. The savages were close at 
 hand, and he called to Dan to make his es 
 cape. 
 
 " I ll stay here with you, John," said the 
 brave fellow, quietly. " I said I d stick by you 
 through thick and thin, and I ll do it." 
 
 "But, Dan," said John, "they ll kill you, 
 and you can do me no good by staying 
 here." 
 
 " A man can t die but once," said Dan, cool- 
 
THE CAPTURE. 223 
 
 ly ; w and if that s got to be your fate, I ll share 
 it with you." 
 
 The next instant the savages were upon 
 them. One of the red warriors raised his 
 hatchet aloft to crush John s skull; but Dan 
 was too quick for him, and springing before 
 the body of his friend, he gave the savage a 
 blow between the eyes with his fist, that sent 
 him reeling to the ground. A shout of laugh 
 ter from the Indians, who now came running 
 up, greeted this exploit, and the one who 
 seemed to be the leader of the party called 
 out to his men not to kill the prisoners. They 
 were seized, however, and bound securely. 
 One of the Indians then examined John s 
 wound in the leg, and after chewing up some 
 leaves which he took from his belt, bound 
 them tightly around the hurt. The pursuit of 
 the other whites was now abandoned, and the 
 Indians told the young men by signs that they 
 must go with them. This the captives pre 
 pared to do, and the party set off in the direc 
 tion of the river. It was too high to be forded, 
 
224 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 but the savages had two large canoes concealed 
 on the Virginia shore, and by means of these 
 they were soon on their own soil again. The 
 canoes were drawn up and concealed in the 
 woods, and the band set off for their towns 
 in the north-western part of Ohio. They 
 camped about dark, and their prisoners were 
 bound hand and foot, to keep them from es 
 caping. The cords were tied so tight as to 
 be painful, and the young men could scarcely 
 sleep at all. They were thankful when the 
 morning came, and the march was resumed. 
 John s leg was very painful, but the savages 
 forced him to keep up with them, in spite of 
 this. Dan walked by him all the way, often 
 supporting him, and sometimes almost carry 
 ing him. He was always cheerful, and in 
 clined to take a hopeful view of matters, and 
 his devotion to his wounded friend, for whose 
 sake he had suffered himself to be captured, 
 was beautiful to behold. 
 
 On the morning of the fifth day the savages 
 halted in about two hours after breaking up 
 
THE CAPTURE. 225 
 
 their camp of the previous night. They 
 painted themselves hideously, and then, ap 
 proaching their prisoners, smeared the face of 
 each with a black substance. John s heart 
 sank within him at this, for he knew that it 
 was a sign that they were. doomed to death, 
 and his knowledge of the Indian customs told 
 him what kind of death they were appointed 
 to die. The savage who painted him must 
 have read this in the young man s face, for 
 he burst into a brutal laugh as he smeared 
 the dye over the skin. John looked at Dan in 
 silence. The young man s face was pale, but 
 tranquil, and he met John s look with a smile. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked. 
 
 "I don t mind it for myself, Dan," said John, 
 in a trembling voice, "but I can t bear to think 
 that you should be here on my account." 
 
 "Well, then, don t think of it," said Dan. 
 "To tell the truth, John, I don t care to live 
 after you are gone. We ve been together so 
 long that to lose you would be like giving up 
 a part of myself." 
 
 15 
 
226 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 The savages now resumed their walk, and 
 the two friends were ordered to move on. 
 
 About noon the Indians gave two loud 
 whoops of a peculiar character, which were 
 meant to let all their people within hearing 
 know that they had returned with t\vo prison 
 ers. The whoops were repeated twice, at inter 
 vals of half an hour, and, the third time, were 
 answered some distance in advance. Then 
 was heard a furious barking of dogs, and in 
 a short time a bend in the road brought them 
 in sight of an Indian village of some fifteen 
 or twenty wigwams, or lodges. The savage 
 that had painted the prisoners now turned to 
 them, and pointed exultantly to their paint and 
 then to the lodges, as much as to say they 
 had reached the place where they were to 
 die. 
 
THE TORTURE. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE TORTURE. 
 
 THE town to which the two friends were 
 carried by their captors belonged to a tribe 
 of Mingo Indians, and was situated about half 
 way between Wheeling and Lake Erie. It 
 consisted of about fifteen or twenty huts, or 
 lodges, and contained a population of about 
 one hundred souls, of whom thirty were war 
 riors. It was one of the remnants of that once 
 powerful tribe which has been immortalized 
 by the eloquence of Logan. The place was 
 dirty and squalid-looking, and it was evident 
 that the tribe was very poor. 
 
 The warriors were received at the entrance 
 of the town by those who had remained at 
 home, and by their women and children. The 
 latter at once commenced to pelt the captives 
 with mud and stones, and one old squaw struck 
 
228 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Dan in the face with a stick. Unable to resist 
 the impulse, Dan gave her a box on the ear 
 with his open hand, and sent her reeling from 
 him. He expected to be killed or beaten for 
 his audacity, but the savages burst into a laugh 
 at the discomfiture of the squaw, and ordered 
 her to let the prisoners alone. After this, John 
 and Dan were taken to one of the lodges, and 
 after being tied hand and foot, were forced to 
 lie down upon the ground, and a guard was 
 placed at the entrance of the hut. About 
 nightfall they were given some coarse, boiled 
 hominy, and, their hands were released until 
 they had finished their meal. Then they were 
 tied again, and forced to lie down on the floor 
 of the hut. The night, which was a sleepless 
 one to them, was passed by their captors in 
 drinking and carousing, and they could hear 
 their savage laughter until near daybreak, 
 after which everything grew quiet. 
 
 "What do you think they will do with us, 
 John?" asked Dan, who had been lying very 
 still. 
 
THE TORTURE. 
 
 "They will burn us, without doubt," replied 
 his companion. "We shall know to-morrow, 
 however." 
 
 The next day at noon they were taken from 
 their place of confinement, and carried into 
 the open square of the town. A large fire 
 was built in the centre of the space, and around 
 it the oldest warriors were seated, smoking. 
 The prisoners were placed before this group, 
 and the remainder of the tribe stood by in 
 silence to hear the result of the deliberations. 
 One of the smokers arose, and, removing his 
 pipe, commenced a long address, in the course 
 of which he became very much excited, and 
 pointed frequently and angrily to the captives, 
 who stood by, unable to comprehend his lan 
 guage, but clearly understanding that he was 
 urging his companions to put them to death. 
 
 At length the man sat down, and there was 
 a profound silence. No one raised his voice 
 for mercy to the captives. In a few mo 
 ments the chief, who sat at the head of the 
 smokers, took a large knife, and cut a notch 
 
23O PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 on the side of his club. The knife and club 
 were then passed around the circle of smokers, 
 each of whom cut a notch in the wood. This 
 was the Indian method of deciding the fate of 
 the captives, for each notch was a vote in 
 favor of their death. Had there been any 
 present who desired to "be merciful, he would 
 have passed the club to his neighbor without 
 cutting it. After the club had gone around 
 the circle, it was handed back to the chief, 
 who counted the notches, and then rose and 
 announced the decision of the council. The 
 prisoners were doomed to die at the stake at 
 sunrise the next day. 
 
 One of the old warriors, who could speak a 
 little English, then informed the prisoners of 
 their sentence. He told them that they would 
 now have to run the gantlet of the warriors 
 of the tribe, and that, although the council had 
 condemned them to death, they would be spared 
 upon condition of their joining the tribe, if they 
 could succeed in reaching the end of their terri 
 ble journey without being knocked down by 
 the clubs of the warriors. 
 
THE TORTURE. 231 
 
 The savages were then ranged in two rows, 
 facing each other, about three or four feet apart, 
 and each one was armed with a stout club. 
 The prisoners were then placed at one end of 
 the rows, and ordered to run at full speed to 
 the lower end of the line, and then return. 
 Dan Whittaker was the first to start, and for a 
 while he was successful in dodging the blows 
 which were aimed at him ; but at length a 
 large Indian struck him fairly over the head, 
 and laid him bleeding upon the ground. John 
 was not more fortunate. His wound prevented 
 him from running, and he had gone but a few 
 steps when he was knocked senseless. The 
 savages then dragged the poor fellows back to 
 the lodge in which they had spent the previous 
 night, and left them there with a guard, to re 
 cover their consciousness as best they could. 
 
 Dan was the first to recover. He raised 
 himself up, and, seeing John still insensible, 
 crawled over to him, and, supporting his head 
 in his lap, tried to restore him to consciousness. 
 At last he was successful. As John opened 
 
232 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 his eyes, and saw his faithful friend bending 
 over him, he put up his arms, and, clasping 
 him around the neck, drew him down to him. 
 
 "God bless you, Dan," he whispered. "I 
 think we can die more bravely together than 
 either of us could apart." 
 
 "I know it, John," said Dan. 
 
 They spent the rest of the day and the night 
 in talking of home and those they loved. This 
 seemed to comfort them, although the thought 
 that they would never see home or friends 
 again was bitter enough to them. Both of 
 them had been raised by Christian parents, and 
 they had lived the few years of their lives as 
 becomes those who "profess the faith of Christ 
 crucified ; " and in these dark hours they found 
 this faith as weet solace and a powerful sup 
 port. As the night waned and the day dawned, 
 they sang the hymns they had sung at home, 
 until the lodge was filled with the melody, and 
 even the savages, roused from their slumbers, 
 listened with awe to what they thought the 
 death-song of the pale-faces. 
 
THE TORTURE. 233 
 
 At sunrise the town was astir, and soon 
 after, the Indians came to conduct their prison 
 ers to the place of torture. The place selected 
 for the occasion was the spot where the coun 
 cil had been held and the sentence passed on 
 the previous day. Two stout posts had been 
 driven into the ground, about three feet apart, 
 and around them a quantity of fagots had 
 been piled up. The prisoners were halted at 
 the stakes, and stripped to the skin. Their 
 hands were then tied behind them, and they 
 were led to the posts, and fastened there by 
 stout thongs of untanned buffalo hide. Even 
 the savages seemed touched by the devotion 
 of the two friends to each other, for they did 
 not offer to separate them, as they embraced 
 each other for the last time, but patiently 
 waited till their parting was ended. 
 
 " Remember, Dan," said John, as they were 
 bound to the posts, "we must die like men. 
 Not a word, not a groan, must show these 
 monsters how we are suffering. The Lord 
 will sustain us, and we shall meet again in 
 
234 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 another and a better world, never to part 
 there." 
 
 " Never to part there, never to part," re 
 peated Dan. The savages now formed a ring 
 around the stakes, and commenced to dance 
 around them, keeping time to a wild, piercing 
 chant. This was continued for a quarter of 
 an hour, when they fell back, and half a dozen 
 warriors advanced, with small bows and a 
 number of fine needles, or arrows, of fat pine, 
 which they commenced to shoot into the naked 
 bodies of their victims. These arrows caused 
 painful wounds wherever they struck, and 
 started the blood in little, fine streams. After 
 shooting about a dozen of these arrows into 
 each of the victims, the men fell back, and 
 an old squaw advanced with a burning torch, 
 to fire the pile of fagots and light the pine 
 arrows which were sticking in the quivering 
 flesh of the young men. 
 
 The town was built just on the edge of the 
 woods, and the stakes were not more than fifty 
 or sixty yards from the trees. Every member 
 
THE TORTURE. 235 
 
 of the tribe had assembled to witness the tor 
 ture, and the red-skins were collected in a 
 close knot in front of the stakes, in order to 
 obtain a view of the prisoners faces, and were 
 standing with their backs to the woods. As 
 the old woman advanced towards the pile, a 
 sheet of flame and smoke, accompanied by a 
 terrific crash, burst from the woods in the rear 
 of the savages, and a storm of bullets swept 
 through their midst, cutting down a number of 
 warriors and women and children. The next 
 moment a large force of hunters dashed out 
 of the forest with a yell, and rushed upon the 
 savages with the tomahawk. The surprise \vas 
 complete. The Indians were utterly unpre 
 pared for and unsuspicious of such an attack ; 
 and, though they made a gallant resistance, 
 they were put to flight, with the loss of half 
 their tribe. The whites were merciless, and 
 they spared neither age nor sex. They had 
 come out for the purpose of avenging the in 
 juries they had suffered, and they were resolved 
 to exterminate the savages. 
 
236 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 True to her instincts, the squaw had tried 
 to fire the pile in spite of the attack ; but a 
 blow from the hatchet of one of the whites 
 deprived her of life and the power of doing 
 so. The captives were instantly released, the 
 arrows were drawn from their bodies, and their 
 wounds were dressed by their rescuers as ten 
 derly and carefully as if the battle was not 
 raging around them. The clothing of which 
 they had been stripped was lying on the ground 
 near the stakes, and they were soon clad in 
 their own garments again. In answer to their 
 questions, the men who had come to their as 
 sistance told them that the expedition consisted 
 of one hundred men. It had been organized 
 at Wheeling, under the command of Major 
 Samuel McCulloch, the famous Indian-fighter. 
 It had been intended for service in another 
 quarter; but the old hunter, Bill Davis, had 
 come in haste to Fort Henry, and begged 
 Major McCulloch to help him to rescue "his 
 boys, as he called John and Dan. McCulloch 
 had generously consented to do this, and by 
 
THE TORTURE. 237 
 
 a forced march of two days and nights 
 had reached the town just in time to save 
 them. 
 
 In half an hour the savages were routed 
 with terrible slaughter, and the battle was over. 
 Major McCulloch now approached the young 
 men, who were resting on the ground stiff and 
 sore from their wounds and bruises. They 
 rose as he came up to them, and, grasping 
 both his hands, thanked him warmly for their 
 rescue. 
 
 "You don t owe me anything," he said. "I 
 am fully repaid for my part of the trouble by 
 seeing you safe. Your thanks are due to your 
 friend Davis, for he fairly dragged us here. 
 Where is he? I haven t seen him since the 
 fight began." 
 
 One of the men approached, and, touching 
 John on the shoulder, said, 
 
 " Bill Davis has been badly wounded, and 
 wants to see you." 
 
 Leaning on Dan s arm, John limped after the 
 man, and Major McCulloch, who was an old 
 
238 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 friend of the hunter, followed anxiously. They 
 
 
 
 found the old man lying on the ground just on 
 the outskirts of the village. He had been shot 
 through the breast at the opening of the fight, 
 and was now very faint from loss of blood. 
 He was lying with his eyes closed, and his 
 breathing was labored and painful. John 
 sank down by him, and, clasping his hand 
 in both of his, called his name in a tone of 
 sharp pain. The hunter opened his eyes, 
 with a smile, at the sound of " his boy s " 
 voice. 
 
 " So you ve come, lad," he said, faintly, 
 " and we got here in time to save you." 
 
 "Yes, Bill," said John, tearfully; "but at 
 what a price! Are you hurt much?" 
 
 "I m done for this time," said the hunter; 
 "but I m satisfied, so long as you are safe. Let 
 me rest my head in your lap, lad, and I ll die 
 easier then." 
 
 John lifted the old man s head into his lap, 
 and his tears fell fast upon the worn, weather- 
 beaten face. The men gathered around in 
 
THE TORTURE. 239 
 
 silence, leaning on their rifles, and gazing with 
 tender pity upon the scene. 
 
 "I wish I could die for you, Bill," John 
 sobbed, as he stroked back the old man s hair, 
 tenderly. 
 
 " It s better as it is, lad," said the hunter, 
 faintly. " I m an old fellow, and I ve seen my 
 day ; so it doesn t much matter about me. You 
 are young and vigorous, and you ll live to see 
 the country peaceful and settled yet. But, lad, 
 when you and Annie are married, and your lit 
 tle ones are playing at your knees, I want you 
 to teach them the name of the poor old hunter 
 that loved you so much ; and if you would call 
 one of them by my name, I think I shall know 
 it, and be happier in that world where I am 
 going ; for I couldn t bear to die, if I thought 
 you would forget me/ 
 
 "I shall never forget you, Bill never," said 
 the young man, weeping. "None of my blood 
 will ever cease to remember you." 
 
 "I know it," said the hunter, "and it is 
 that that makes me willing to die ; for if you 
 
240 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 had been my own flesh and blood, I couldn t 
 have loved you more. Where s Dan?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Here I am, Bill," said Dan, controlling his 
 emotion, and taking the old man s hand. 
 
 "Dan Whittaker," said the old man, "I have 
 always loved you, too, because you loved John ; 
 but not like I loved him, Dan not like I loved 
 him ; and now I m going to leave him to you. 
 You will watch over him, Dan, and be to him 
 all that I meant to have been, had I been 
 spared. Will you promise me that?" 
 
 "I will, and, with God s help, I will keep 
 my promise," said Dan. 
 
 " That s right," murmured the hunter, faintly. 
 " With God s help ; you can do nothing without 
 it. He has helped me many a time, and I m 
 trusting to his mercy now. I ve tried to live a 
 correct life, though I couldn t help cussin when 
 I got mad. I never injured any one, and I 
 ain t afeard to die. Only don t let the Injuns 
 git my har. Bury me in the thick woods, whar 
 they won t find me ; for I couldn t rest easy with 
 
THE TORTURE. 24! 
 
 my sculp a-swingin to a red-skin s belt. Prom 
 ise me that." 
 
 " I do promise," said John. 
 
 The hunter lay still and silent for a moment, 
 and his face commenced to take a grayish hue. 
 A tremor passed through his frame, and he 
 whispered faintly, 
 
 "John, lad, I m going. Will you pray with 
 me the Lord s prayer, lad? You say it, and 
 I ll repeat after you, as I used to do at 
 my mother s knee when I was an innocent 
 child." 
 
 John s voice was choked with sobs, and it 
 was only by an effort that he faltered out the 
 blessed w r ords. 
 
 "Our Father," he began. 
 
 " Our Father," repeated the hunter, faintly, 
 and with difficulty. 
 
 "Which art " 
 
 " Which art " the voice wavering and 
 sinking to a mere whisper. 
 
 "In heaven " 
 
 * In heaven," whispered the old man, a 
 16 
 
242 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 smile, so sweet that it thrilled those who gazed 
 upon it, stealing over his dark face. "In 
 heaven," he whispered again "in heaven;" 
 and the voice died away into silence a 
 blessed silence, thank God ; for the old hunter 
 was in heaven with his "Father." 
 
 They carried the hunter with them a day s 
 journey towards Wheeling, and buried him in 
 the thick woods, and concealed his grave so 
 that neither beast nor savage would ever find 
 it. The Indian has passed away, the forest 
 has been hewn down, and towns v nd cities 
 have sprung up around that spot since then ; 
 but a truer, nobler heart than that of the old 
 hunter has never throbbed beneath the blue 
 skies of the west. 
 
 John and Dan were very sad during the 
 march homeward ; for, in spite of their joy at 
 their own rescue, the death of their old friend 
 wrung their hearts with the deepest grief they 
 had ever known. Major McCulloch and his 
 men respected their sorrow, and left them al 
 most to themselves. Upon reaching Fort Hen- 
 
THE TORTURE. 243 
 
 ry, they managed to get word of their safety to 
 their friends at Fish Creek; but they staid at 
 Wheeling till John s leg was well enough to 
 enable him to continue the journey home on 
 horseback. 
 
244 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 JOHN S WEDDING. 
 
 WHEN John and Dan returned to Fish Creek, 
 they met with a welcome that more than re 
 paid them for the sufferings they had expe 
 rienced. It was some time before the wound 
 in John s leg healed entirely, for it had been 
 very much aggravated by his being compelled 
 to accompany the Indians, and make the march 
 with his rescuers on foot, so that the winter was 
 far advanced before he abandoned his character 
 of invalid. To tell the truth, he found it very 
 pleasant to be nursed by Annie, for his mother 
 had quietly resigned that task to her ; and it 
 was not without regret that he found himself 
 entitled no longer to a sick man s privileges. He 
 was impatient for the spring to come ; for on 
 the first day of May he was to make Annie 
 Clarke his wife. 
 
JOHN S WEDDING. 245 
 
 People married very young in those days ; 
 and the old proverb, " Whom we first love we 
 seldom marry," would not have applied to the 
 frontier; for, as a general rule, the pioneers 
 married so young that they did not have time 
 to find a second love. It cost little or nothing 
 to take a wife. Any man who could build a 
 cabin, and clear up and work a few acres of 
 land, was in a position to marry ; for the wo 
 men of those days were not afraid of poverty 
 and toil. 
 
 From the first, it was determined that the 
 wedding (the first that had ever been projected 
 in the settlement) should be a grand affair. 
 One of the cabins in the fort had been assigned 
 to the young couple, and, for several weeks pre 
 vious to the appointed day, the women were 
 busy in arranging it for them. John and Dan 
 worked, too, with a will (for the former had 
 not forgotten his boyish ingenuity), in making 
 the furniture and such like little knick-knacks as 
 they could think of; so that, when everything 
 was finished, the "establishment" of the young 
 
246 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 couple was the admiration of the entire com 
 munity. It was all very rough and plain, to 
 be sure ; but, then, dear reader, those for 
 whom it was designed were satisfied with it. 
 Some of you, no doubt, look forward, and very 
 properly, too, to beginning life, when you 
 marry, in a handsome "brick" or "brown 
 stone," "with all the modern conveniences," 
 and a full assortment of tasteful household fur 
 niture. God grant that your hopes may be 
 realized ; but I doubt if, after all, you will be 
 any happier or better satisfied than were these 
 young people with their log cabin, and rough 
 pine and oak household goods. Invitations 
 were sent to the various settlements for twenty 
 miles around : and it was understood that every 
 body who could come would do so, whether 
 they were acquainted with the bride and groom 
 or not. There was very little ceremony on the 
 border, and people had but little use for formal 
 introductions. 
 
 On the day before the wedding, John Oxen- 
 ford went to Grove Creek, accompanied by Dan 
 
JOHN S WEDDING. 247 
 
 Whittaker and Tom Oxenford, to bring the 
 parson down to Fish Creek. They were to 
 return with the company from Grove Creek the 
 next day, and the marriage was to be celebrated 
 at high noon. 
 
 On the morning of the first of May, 1781, 
 a goodly company left Grove Creek to attend 
 the wedding, or frolic for at that period the 
 terms were synonymous. You would have 
 stared, could you have seen them, dear reader. 
 The men were dressed in shoe packs,* mocca- 
 sons, leather breeches, leggings, and linsey hunt 
 ing-shirts. Each man carried his hunting- 
 knife at his belt, his powder-horn and shot- 
 pouch at his side, and his rifle was slung across 
 his shoulder. The ladies were dressed in linsey 
 petticoats, and linsey or linen bed-gowns, coarse 
 shoes, stockings, and cotton handkerchiefs. If 
 they wore gloves, the material used was a 
 coarse buck-skin. Of jewelry there was none, 
 unless, perhaps, some one might have been 
 so fortunate as to be the possessor of some old 
 
 * A leather shoe, without a sole, made like a moccason. 
 
248 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 family relic or heirloom, at which their grand 
 daughters of to-day would be very apt to turn 
 up their noses. The horses were caparisoned 
 with bridles of rough tanned leather, old sad 
 dles that had been mended until very little of 
 the original article was left, and girths which 
 were as frequently a piece of rope as a leathern 
 strap. Yet these good people thought all this 
 very fine, and the} r were as merry and free from 
 care as it is possible to imagine. The only 
 thing they feared was an attack from the In 
 dians ; but even this was worth risking for the 
 fun that was in store for them. 
 
 The party left the fort with a cheer, and set 
 off in single file for Fish Creek. John, of 
 course, was the observed of all, and was the 
 object of many a good-natured, but homely, 
 jest. He tried very hard to maintain his grav 
 ity, but found it impossible to do so ; and at last, 
 abandoning the attempt, he became as merry as 
 though he had not been going to his own wed 
 ding. The forest rang with the laughter of the 
 joyous party ; and as some of the girls looked 
 
JOHN S WEDDING. 249 
 
 upon the handsome face and manly figure of 
 the bridegroom elect, they could not help wish 
 ing to themselves that they were to stand in 
 Annie Clarke s place. 
 
 The fort at Fish Creek was reached by 
 eleven o clock, and the guests were at once 
 admitted, and their horses provided for. A 
 number of persons of both sexes had already 
 arrived from other parts of the country, and one 
 or two young people had even come from as far 
 as Wheeling. There was no cabin in the fort 
 large enough to hold the company, and the big 
 storehouse had been fitted up for the occasion. 
 This had an earthen floor ; but it was con 
 sidered quite as good for dancing as one of 
 plank would have been. 
 
 At twelve o clock the parson took his station 
 in the middle of the floor, and the company 
 grouped about him to witness the ceremony. 
 The next moment, Captain Oxenford and his 
 wife came in, followed by the bride and groom 
 elect. Annie was dressed in her best home 
 spun petticoat, which came to her ankles, and 
 
250 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 a bodice of old linen that Mrs. Oxenford had 
 brought with her from the east. Her plump, 
 pretty ankles were encased in yarn stockings 
 of the brightest red, and her foot, which was 
 the perfection of beauty, was fitted into a pair 
 of Indian moccasons. Her hair was braided 
 tastefully and simply, and in it she wore a 
 spray of wild violets. John was dressed in his 
 best hunting-shirt, his buck-skin breeches, lin- 
 sey leggings, and a pair of Indian moccasons, 
 which he had secured upon the occasion re 
 ferred to in the last chapter. "A handsomer 
 couple never stood before a parson," was the 
 unanimous comment of those present. Every 
 one in the settlement loved them, and all re 
 joiced in their happiness. In a few minutes 
 the parson had "tied the knot," and had made 
 John Oxenford and Annie Clarke man and 
 wife. Then the fort rang with the cheers of 
 the men, the women waved their handker 
 chiefs, and all crowded around the happy pair 
 to offer their congratulations, and kiss the 
 bride. 
 
JOHNS WEDDING. 251 
 
 The marriage over, the women repaired to 
 the cabin of Captain Oxenford to get ready 
 the dinner which had been provided, and the 
 men set the tables, which had been loaned by 
 the various families of the fort, in the store 
 house. The bride and groom were as active 
 as the others in these preparations, and by two 
 o clock the company were all seated around 
 the festive board. The dinner was a down 
 right sensible meal, and consisted of beef, pork, 
 fowls, venison, and bear-meat, roasted and 
 boiled, with an abundance of cabbage, pota 
 toes, and other vegetables. Seats were scarce, 
 but the men were willing to stand. There was 
 a deficiency of knives, too ; but this was easily 
 remedied. The family knives were given to 
 the ladies, and the men made use of their 
 scalping-knives. 
 
 Whiskey took the place of wine, but it was 
 drank in moderation, for the men were very 
 Bayards in their deference to the gentler sex, 
 arid no one thought of getting drunk in such 
 company. The dinner was eaten with zest, 
 
252 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 and when it was over there was not enough 
 left for a single meal for a person with a mod 
 erate appetite. 
 
 When the tables were removed, the floor 
 was cleared, and the dancing began. Think 
 of it, you who wait till half the night is over, 
 before beginning your pastime ; think of going 
 to a ball at four o clock on a May afternoon ! 
 The fiddler was mounted on a barrel, at one 
 end of the room, and the first figure, which was 
 always, in such cases, "a square four," was 
 called. Then came the "jigging it off," in 
 which the four would divide into couples, and 
 end the set with a jig. Then followed the 
 reels and jigs, which continued without slack 
 ening, until the fiddler was forced to throw up 
 his bow from sheer exhaustion. A brief rest 
 was allowed him, and he was ordered to begin 
 afresh. As fast as the dancers became tired, 
 their places were supplied from the lookers-on ; 
 and thus the dance went on, until the next 
 day had fairly dawned. 
 
 At ten o clock a deputation of young maidens 
 
JOHN S WEDDING. 253 
 
 stole away the bride, and, flying with her 
 across the yard to her new home, soon had her 
 tucked away in the bed, and half an hour 
 later, the bridegroom disappeared from the 
 ball-room, in company with Dan Whittaker and 
 several of his friends ; and these young men 
 performed for him the kind office of stowing 
 him away by the side of his bride. Then they 
 returned to the ball-room. 
 
 The fun grew merrier now. No one was 
 allowed to sleep, and even the parson had to 
 take his share in the reels and jigs. The good 
 man was found, towards midnight, nodding 
 in a corner of the room. The young people 
 seized him by the arms, amidst shouts of 
 laughter, and dragging him out on the floor, 
 bade the fiddler play " Hang out till to-morrow 
 morning/ in token that the parson would not 
 be allowed to seek the rest he craved until 
 the night was over ; but he outwitted the rev 
 ellers, however, and, taking refuge in the loft 
 of one of the stables, slept there soundly from 
 midnight till sunrise. 
 
254 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 About two o clock in the morning, some one 
 called out to Captain Oxenford, 
 
 " I say, cap , it s about time to send Black 
 Betty to the young folks." 
 
 Now, "Black Betty" was nothing more nor 
 less than a bottle of corn whiskey, and it was 
 the custom to send it to the newly-married 
 pair towards the wee hours of the morning. 
 This time "Betty" did not go alone, but the 
 deputation that carried her took with them a 
 supply of cabbage, pork, potatoes, and bear- 
 meat, plentiful enough to feed the whole set 
 tlement, and the bride and groom were com 
 pelled to eat heartily of these provisions, although 
 they protested that they were not hungry. The 
 etiquette of the times supposed that they were 
 famished. 
 
 The dancing ceased at sunrise, and the guests 
 prepared to depart. By nine o clock, after 
 having partaken of a hearty breakfast, they 
 were all on their homeward way, and the fort 
 relapsed into its usual quietness. 
 
JOHN S WEDDING. 255 
 
 John and Annie Oxenford lived to a good 
 old age, and had the happiness of seeing the 
 country settled and prosperous. In his seven 
 tieth year, the former redeemed the promise 
 of his childhood, and built him a fine house 
 where his father s cabin had first been located 
 the fort having been broken up, and the 
 settlers scattered, after the close of the Indian 
 wars. He lived to see his great-grandchil 
 dren at his knee, and to give the name of the 
 old hunter, Bill Davis, which was also that 
 of his eldest son and grandchild, to the first 
 great-grandchild, so that to this day it is borne 
 by his descendants. 
 
 Dan Whittaker married Mary Oxenford two 
 years after John s marriage, and he and his 
 wife died a few years before John. The 
 friendship which the two men bore each other 
 never wavered, and it was grief for the loss 
 of Dan that helped to bring John Oxenford 
 to his grave. 
 
 The descendants of those who formed the 
 little settlement are still scattered through the 
 
256 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 country about Fish Creek ; and to this day 
 they cherish, as a sort of precious legacy, the 
 traditions which their fathers handed down to 
 them of the exploits of the Pioneer Boys in 
 Planting the Wilderness. 
 
 
a, J.D. 
 
 Plantinlg the wilder 
 
 M121 
 -P 
 
 ness 
 
 M88962 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY