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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 aOONE TAKEN PBISONBE. 
 
 (2)
 
 PIOi\EER LIFE m THE WEST; 
 
 COMPBISINO THE ADTEKTURES OF 
 
 BOONE KENTON BRADY, CLAEKE 
 THE WHETZELS, 
 
 AND OTHERS, 
 
 IN THEIR FIERCE ENCOUNTERS 
 
 WITH THE INDIANS. 
 
 V ' J > 
 
 ' ' « 4 
 
 PHILADKLPHIA: 
 
 John E. Potter and Company, 
 
 617 SANiOM SlREEr.
 
 EnUred ccording to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by 
 J. W. BRADLEY, 
 
 Ib the Clerk'i *fiice of the District Court of the Eutern District of 
 
 Pennsylvania, 
 
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 CONTENTS 
 
 I? 
 
 to 
 
 ^ DinriEL Boone, 9 
 
 C Simon Kenton 23 
 
 ^ Captain Brady, 68 
 
 ^ Captain Brady and Phouts lOL 
 
 00 Peter Francisco, 119 
 
 Job Logstone, 128 
 
 Jessie Hughes, 139 
 
 Major McCulloch, 144 
 
 General George Rogers Clarke, 159 
 
 o 
 
 ^ The Whetzels, 160 
 
 The Foes, 213 
 
 The Johnsons, , . 226 
 
 O 
 
 O James Smith, 233 
 
 Q William Burbridoe 264 
 
 a The Indian Trail, 280 
 
 ^ Estill's Defeat, 296 
 
 a The Pioneer AND THE Panther 309 
 
 -I 
 
 ** The Pioneer AND the Bear, 316 
 
 Mbb. Parker and the Indians 327 
 
 447319
 
 2lSbeK)fi|^e3 of S^^Iei 3oo^. 
 
 Daniel Boone, one of the first adven- 
 turers who penetrated into the wilds 
 of Kentucky, was born in A^irginia, of 
 English parents, in the year 1730. Early 
 in his life his parents emigrated to the 
 banks of the Yadkin Eiver, in North 
 Carolina, then recently settled. 
 
 In 1769, he, with John Finley, and four 
 
 (9)
 
 10 ADVENTXJRES OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 other companions crossed the wilderness 
 bordering on the Cumberland Mountains, 
 in quest of the region of Kentucky, then 
 little known. On the 7th of June, they 
 arrived at Eed Kiver, north of the Ken- 
 tucky ; soon after Boone and John Stewart, 
 one of his companions, were captured by 
 a party of savages; they within ten days 
 escaped, but could find no trace of the 
 rest of their party, who had returned 
 home. Boone and Stewart, would have 
 been constrained to follow them, had not 
 Daniel's brother, Squire Boone, followed 
 their track from Korth Carolina, and 
 brousrht a few necessaries to them. Stew- 
 art being killed soon after by the Indians, 
 the two Boones were left the onlv white 
 men in the wilderness. After living to- 
 gether in a cabin until May, Squire Boone 
 went home, returning however in July, 
 according to agreement. The brothers 
 then traversed the country to the Cum- 
 berland Eiver, and, the following year, 
 returned to their families, determined to 
 remove them to Kentucky.
 
 ADVENTURES OF DAJ^IEL BOONE. 11 
 
 In September, 1773, Boone commenced 
 his removal to Kentucky, with his own, 
 and five other families, and was joined by 
 forty men, who placed themselves under 
 his guidance. Being attacked by the In- 
 dians, six of his men were slain, and the 
 cattle belonging to the party dispersed. 
 The survivors returned, in consequence, 
 to the settlements on Clinch River, about 
 forty miles from the scene of action. A 
 company from North Carolina, having 
 formed a plan of purchasing the lands on 
 the south side of the Kentucky River from 
 the Southern Indians, employed Boone to 
 buy a tract of country, the limits of which 
 were described to him. He performed 
 the service, and soon after, made a road 
 from the settlements on the Holston 
 to the Kentucky River, notwithstanding- 
 the incessant attacks of the Indians, in 
 which four of his men were killed and five 
 wounded. 
 
 In 1774, at the request of Lord Dun- 
 more, Boone accompanied a party of 
 surveyors to the Falls of the Ohio, (Lou-
 
 12 ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 isville,) and was active in expeditions 
 against the Indians during that year. 
 
 In April, 1775, he built a fort at a 
 salt spring, on the southern bank of 
 the Kentucky, where Boonesborough is 
 now situated. It consisted of a block 
 house and several cabins, enclosed with 
 palisades. 
 
 In 1777, he sustained two sieges in 
 Boonesborough from the Indians, but 
 repulsed them. 
 
 In the following year, however, Febru- 
 ary 7th, Boone was taken prisoner by the 
 savages, while hunting, with a number 
 of his men. In May, they were conducted 
 to Detroit, were they experienced great 
 kindness from Governor Hamilton, the 
 British commander of that post. He 
 even offered the Indians £100 for their 
 prisoner, in order that he might liberate 
 him on parole, but they would not part 
 with him, having conceived for him senti- 
 ments of great affection and respect. On 
 his return he was adopted by one of the 
 principal chiefs at Chilicothe, and might
 
 ill 
 
 mL. ,. „ _ . 
 
 IJlilililliliiililiiiiliillWIM?
 
 ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 15 
 
 have been happy in this situation, had 
 not the thoughts of his wife and children 
 continually kept alive the desire of escape. 
 
 Four months after his capture, Boone 
 learned that five hundred warriors were 
 preparing to march against Boonesbor- 
 ough. One morning (June 16th), i 'ving 
 risen at the usual hunting hour, he 
 departed, apparently for the woods, but in 
 reality for Boonesborough. He arrived 
 there on the 20th of June ; after a journey 
 of one hundred and sixty miles, performed 
 in four days, having eaten, it is said, but 
 one meal during that time. 
 
 On the 8th of August, a body of 
 savages, to the number of four hun- 
 dred and fifty, commanded by Canadian 
 Frenchmen and some of their own chiefs, 
 invested the fort with British colors flying. 
 Boone was summoned to surrender, but 
 announced his determination, and that of 
 the garrison, who amounted to but fifty 
 men, "to defend the fort as long as a man 
 of them was alive." 
 
 The enemy then resolved to obtain it
 
 16 ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 by stratagem, and requested that nine of 
 the principal persons of the garrison 
 would come out and treat with them, 
 promising terms so favorable, that the 
 invitation was accepted. After the arti- 
 cles of the treaty had been signed, Boone 
 and his companions were told that it was 
 customary, upon such occasions, among 
 the Indians, for tw^o of them to shake 
 each white man by the hand, in order to 
 evince the sincerity of their friendship. 
 
 This was also agreed to; and, accord- 
 ingly, tw^o Indians approached each of 
 the nine, and, taking his hands, graj)- 
 pled him, with the intent of making 
 him prisoner. Their object being then 
 immediately perceived, Boone and his 
 companions extricated themselves, and 
 retreated into the fort, amid a heavy fire 
 from the savages. 
 
 An attack was then quickly commenced, 
 and continued until the 20th of August, 
 when the enemy abandoned the siege. 
 Boone's wife and children had left the 
 fort before the sieG:e commenced, to 2:0 to
 
 rRENCH AND INDIANS ATTACKINQ BOONESBOROCGH. 
 
 (17)
 
 ADVENTURES OF DAMEL BOONE. 
 
 19 
 
 BOONE PURSUED BY INDIANS. 
 
 the residence of Mrs. Bocne's father on 
 the Yadkin, where Boone visited them 
 in 1779. In October, as Boone was 
 returning from the Blue Licks, with his 
 brother, the latter was slain, and Boone 
 pursued by a party of Indians for three
 
 L'O ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 miles, by tlie aid of a dog; but, having 
 killed the animal, he escaped. 
 
 In 1782, the depredations of the sava- 
 ges increasing to an intolerable extent, 
 Boone, with other militia officers, collected 
 one hundred and seventy-six men, and 
 went in pursuit of a large body, who had 
 marched bevond the Blue Licks, to a 
 bend of the main fork of the Lickins: 
 River, forty miles from Lexington. They 
 overtook them August 19th, but, being 
 much inferior in numbers, were obliged 
 to retreat. 
 
 G meral Clarke, then at the fails of 
 the Ohio, immediately assembled a con- 
 siderable number of men, and commenced 
 the pursuit of the savages, accompanied 
 by Boone. 
 
 In the year 1798, in consequence of a 
 defect in his title to lands in Kentucky, 
 Boone was dispossessed of what was an 
 ample estate, and nuulc poor. The region 
 he had explored, and helped to defend, 
 now contained a ])()pulation of half a 
 million. Indignant because of being dis-
 
 ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 21 
 
 possessed, he shouldered his rifle, left 
 Kentucky forever, and, with some fol- 
 lowers, plunged into the wild forests of 
 Missouri, west of the Mississippi. He 
 received a grant of two thousand acres 
 of land, in Upper Louisiana, from the 
 Spanish authorities, and his children and 
 followers were also presented with eight 
 hundred acres each. He settled with 
 them on the Missouri River, at Charette, 
 some distance beyond the inhabited parts 
 of the country, where he followed his 
 usual course of life — hunting and trap- 
 ping for bears, until September, 1822, 
 when he died, at the residence of his son 
 Major A. Bnone, in Montgomery County, 
 in the eiG:htieth vear of his a2:e. He had 
 been gradually declining for some years 
 previous to his decease. It is related 
 that, some time before that event, he had 
 two coffins made out of a favorite cherry 
 tree, the first of which, not fitting, he 
 gave to a son-in-law ; in the second he 
 was buried, having bestowed on it a fine 
 polish, by a course of rubbing for several
 
 22 
 
 ADYEXTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 years. His sons and daugliters still 
 reside in Missouri.
 
 StSbei]fq^e3 of §Iiii)oif) i^ciiioi]. 
 
 Simon Kenton first came out to Ken- 
 tucky, in the year 1771, at which time he 
 was a youth of sixteen. He was ahnost 
 constantly engaged in conflicts with the 
 Indians from that time until the treaty 
 of Greenville. He was probably in more 
 expeditions against the Indians, encoun- 
 tered greater peril, and had more narrow 
 
 escapes from death, than any man of 
 
 (28)
 
 24 ADVENTURES OF SIMCK!^ KENTO?^. 
 
 his time. The many incidents of his 
 romantic and eventful life, are well de- 
 tailed by his friend and biographer, 
 Colonel John M' Donald, from whose work 
 we extract the thrilling narrative of his 
 captivity and hair-breadth escapes from a 
 cruel and lingering death, 
 
 Kenton lay about Boone's and Logan's 
 stations, till ease became irksome to him. 
 About the 1st of September of this same 
 year, 1778, we tind him preparing for 
 another Indiau expedition. Alexander 
 Montgomery and George Clark joined 
 him, and they set off from Boone's sta- 
 tion, for the avowed .purpose of obtaining 
 horses from the Indians. They crossed 
 the Ohio, and proceeded cautiously to 
 Chillicothe, (now Oldtown, Koss county.) 
 They arrived at the town without meet- 
 ing any adventure. In the niglit they 
 fell in with a drove of horses that were 
 feeding in the rich prairies. They were 
 prepared with salt and halters. They 
 had much difficulty to catch the horses; 
 however, at length they succeeded, and
 
 SIMON KENTON. 
 
 (25)
 
 AD\ENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 27 
 
 as soon as the horses were haltered, they 
 dashed off with seven — a pretty good 
 haul. 
 
 Tli-ey traveled with all the speed they 
 could to the Ohio. They came to the 
 Ohio near the mouth of Eagle creek, now 
 in Brown county. When they came to 
 the river, the wind blew almost a hurri- 
 cane. The waves ran so high that the 
 horses were frightened, and could not be 
 induced to take the water. It was late 
 in the evening. They then rode back 
 into the hills some distance from the 
 river, hobbled and turned their horses 
 loose to graze; while they turned back 
 some distance, and watched the trail they 
 had come, to discover whether or not they 
 were pursued. 
 
 Here they remained till the following 
 day, when the wind subsided. As soon 
 as the wind fell they caught their liorses, 
 and went again to the river; but their 
 horses were so frightened with the waves 
 the day before, that all their efforts could 
 not induce them to take the water.
 
 23 ADVENTURES OF SIMoN KENT(»f. 
 
 This was a sore disappointment to our 
 adventurers. They were satisfied that 
 tliey were pursued by the enemy; they 
 therefore determined to lose no more time 
 in useless efforts to cross the Ohio; they 
 concluded to select thi-ee of the best 
 horses, and make their way to the falls of 
 the Ohio, where General Clark had left 
 some men stationed. 
 
 Each made choice of a horse, and the 
 other horses were turned loose to shift 
 for themselves. After the spare horses 
 had been loosed, and permitted to ramble 
 off, avarice whispered to them, and why 
 not take all the horses? The loose horses 
 had by this time scattered and straggled 
 out of sight. Our party now separated 
 to hunt up the horses they had turned 
 loose. 
 
 Kenton went towards the river, and 
 had not gone far before he heard a whoop 
 in the direction of where thev had been 
 trying to force the horses into the water. 
 He got off his horse and tied him, and 
 then crept with the stealthy tread of a
 
 ADTENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 29 
 
 — ""^^jyv 
 
 INDIAN HORSEMEN. 
 
 cat, to make observations in the direction 
 
 he heard the whoop. Just as he reached 
 
 the high bank of the river, he met 
 
 the Indians on horseback. Being unper- 
 
 ceived by them, but so nigh that it was 
 
 impossible for him to retreat without 
 
 being discovered, he concluded the 
 
 boldest course to be the safest, and very 
 
 deliberately took aim at the foremost 
 
 Indian. His gun flashed in the pan. He 
 
 then retreated. The Indians pursued on 
 
 horseback. 
 
 In his retreat, he passed through a 
 
 piece of land where a storm had torn up 
 
 a great part of the timber. The fallen 
 
 trees afforded him some advantage of the 
 
 3*
 
 30 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENT( N. 
 
 Indians in the race, as they were on 
 horseback and he on foot. The Indian 
 force divided; some rode on one side of 
 the fallen timber, and some on the other. 
 Just as he emera'ed from the fallen 
 timber, at the foot of the hill, one of 
 the Indians met him on horseback, and 
 boldly rode up to him, jumped of!' his 
 horse and rushed at him with his toma- 
 hawk. 
 
 Kenton concluding a gun-barrel as 
 good a weapon of defence as a tomahawk, 
 drew back his gwn to strike the Indian 
 before him. At that instant another 
 Indian, who, unperceived by Kenton, liad 
 slipped up behind him, clasped him in 
 his arms. Being now overpowered by 
 numbers, fui'ther resistance was useless — 
 he surrendered. While the Indians were 
 birtdino; Kenton with tusrs, Montfromerv 
 came in view, and fired at the Indians, 
 but missed his mark. Montgomery lied 
 on foot. Some of the Indians pursued, 
 shot at, and missed him ; a second fire 
 was made, and Montgomery fell. The In-
 
 SIMON KKNTON TTF.T) TO A HORSE. 
 
 (31)
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 33 
 
 dians soon returned to Kenton, shaking at 
 him Montgomery's bloody scalp. George 
 Clark, Kenton's other companion, made 
 his escape, crossed the Ohio, and arrived 
 safe at Logan's station. 
 
 The Indians encamped that night on 
 the bank of the Ohio. The next morning 
 they prepared tlieir horses for a return to 
 their towns, with the unfortunate and 
 unhappy prisoner. Nothing but death in 
 the most appalling form presented itself 
 to his view. When they were ready to 
 set off, they caught the wildest horse in 
 the company, and placed Kenton on his 
 back. The horse being very restiff, it 
 took several of them to hold him, while 
 the othei'S laslied the prisoner on the 
 horse. They first took a tug, or rope, 
 and fastened his le2;s and feet to2;ether 
 under the horse. They took another and 
 fastened his arms. They took another 
 and tied around his neck, and fastened 
 one end of it around the horse's neck; the 
 other end of the same rope was fastened 
 to the horse's tail, to answer in place of
 
 3i ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 a crupper. They had a great deal of 
 amusement to themselves, as they were 
 preparing Kenton and his horse for fun 
 and frolic. They would yelp and scream 
 around him, and ask him if he wished to 
 steal more horses. Another ropo was 
 fastened around his thighs, and lashed 
 around the body of his horse; a pair of 
 moccasins was drawn over his hands, to 
 prevent him from defending his face from 
 the brush. 
 
 Thus accoutred and fastened, the horse 
 was turned loose to the woods. He 
 reared and plunged, ran through the 
 w^oods for some tiuie, to the infinite 
 amusement of the Indians. Aftc^r the 
 horse had run about, plunging, rearing, 
 and kicking for some time, and found that 
 he could not shake off, nor kick off his 
 rider, he very quietly submitted himself 
 to his situation, and followed the caval- 
 cade as quiet and peaceable as his rider. 
 
 The Indians moved towaids Cbillicothc, 
 and in three davs reached the town. At 
 night they confined their ])ris()ner in the
 
 ADVExNTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 35 
 
 following manner: He was laid on his 
 back, his legs extended, drawn apart, and 
 fastened to two saplings or stakes driven 
 in the ground. His arms w^ere extended, 
 a pole laid across his breast, and his 
 arms lashed to the pole with cords. A 
 rope was tied around his neck, and 
 stretched back just tight enough not to 
 choke him, and fastened to a tree or 
 stake near his head. In this painful and 
 uncomfortable situation, he spent three 
 miserable nights, exposed to gnats, and 
 musketoes, and weather. 0, poor human 
 nature, what miserable wretches we are, 
 thus to punish and harass each other! 
 (The frontier whites of that day, were 
 but little behind tlie Indians, in wiles, in 
 cruelty, and revenge.) 
 
 When the Indians came within about 
 a mile of the Chillicothe town, they 
 lialted and camped for the night, and 
 fastened the poor unfortunate prisoner in 
 the usual uncomfortable manner. Tlie 
 Indians, young and old, came from the 
 town to welcome the return of their
 
 36 ADVEx\TURES OF SIMON KExXTON. 
 
 successful warriors, and to visit thei? 
 prisoner. 
 
 The Indian part}^ young and old, con 
 sisting of about one hundred and fifty 
 commenced dancing, singing and yelling 
 around Kenton, stopping occasionally and 
 kicking and beating him for amusement. 
 In this manner they tormented him for 
 about three hours when the cavalcade 
 returned to town, and he was left for the 
 rest of the night, exhausted and forlorn, 
 to the tender mercies of the gnats and 
 musketoes. 
 
 As soon as it was light in the morning, 
 the Indians began to collect from the 
 town, and preparations were made for 
 fun and frolic at the expense of Kenton, 
 as he was now doomed to run the gaunt- 
 let. The Indians were formed in two 
 lines, about six feet apart, with each a 
 hickory in his hands, and Kenton placed 
 between the two lines, so that each 
 Indian could beat him as much as he 
 thought proper, as he ran through the 
 lines Ho had not ran far before he
 
 417319
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 39 
 
 discovered an Indian with his knife 
 drawn to plunge it into him ; as soon as 
 Kenton reached that part of the line 
 where the Indian stood who had the knife 
 drawn, he broke through the lines, and 
 made with all speed for the town. 
 
 Kenton had been previously informed 
 by a negro named C^sar, who lived with 
 the Indians and knew their customs, that 
 if he could break through the Indians' 
 lines, and arrive at the council-house in 
 the to\Yn before he was overtaken, that 
 they would not force him a second time to 
 run the gauntlet. When he broke through 
 their lines, he ran at the top of his speed 
 for the council-house, pursued by two or 
 three hundred Indians, screaming like 
 infernal furies. 
 
 Just as he had entered the town, he 
 was met by an Indian leisurely walking 
 towards the scene of amusement, wrap- 
 ped in a blanket. The Indian threw off 
 his blanket; and as he was fresh, and 
 Kenton nearly exhausted, the Indian soon 
 caught him and threw him down. In a
 
 10 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 moment the whole party who were in 
 pursuit came up, and fell to cuffing and 
 kicking him at a most fearful rate. They 
 tore off his clothes, and left him naked 
 and exhausted. After he had lain till he 
 had in some degree recovered from his 
 exhausted state, they brought him some 
 water and soniethiDg to eat. 
 
 As soon as his strength was sufficiently 
 recovered, they took him to the council- 
 house, to determine upon his fate. Theii 
 manner of deciding his fate was as 
 follows : Their warriors were placed in 
 a circle in the council-house ; an old 
 chief was i:)laced in the centre of the 
 circle, with a knife and a piece of wood 
 in his hands. A number of speeches 
 were made. Kenton, although he did 
 not understand their language, soon 
 discovered by their animated gestures, 
 and fierce looks at him, that a majority 
 of their speakers were contending for his 
 destruction. He could perceive that those 
 who pleaded for mercy, were received 
 coolly; but few grunts of approbation
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 41 
 
 were uttered when the orators closed their 
 speeches. 
 
 After the orators ceased speaking, the 
 old chief who sat in the midst of the 
 circle, raised up and handed a war-club to 
 the man who sat next the door. They 
 proceeded to take the decision of their 
 court. All who were for the death of the 
 prisoner, struck the war-club with vio- 
 lence against the ground; those who voted 
 to save the prisoner's life, passed the club 
 to his next neighbt)r without striking the 
 ground. Kenton, from their expressive 
 gestures, could easily distinguish the ob- 
 ject of their vote. The old chief who 
 stood to witness and recorrl the number 
 that voted for death or mercv, as one 
 struck the ground witli a war-club he 
 made a mark on one side of his piece of 
 wood; and when the club was passed 
 without striking, he made a mark on the 
 other. Kenton discovered that a large 
 majority were for death. 
 
 Sentence of death being now passed 
 upon the prisoner, they made the welkin 
 
 4*
 
 J9 
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 INDIAN COUNCIL. 
 
 ring with slioiits of joy. The sentence of 
 death being passed, there was another 
 question of considerable difficulty x)re- 
 sented itself to the consideration of the 
 council; that was, the time and place, 
 when and where, he should be burnt. 
 The orators again made speeches on the 
 subject, less animated indeed than on the 
 trial; but some appeared to be quite 
 vehement for instant execution, w^hile 
 others appeared to wish to make his 
 death a solemn national sacrifice. 
 
 After a long debate, the vote was 
 taken, wdien it was resolved that the place 
 of his execution should be Wapatomika,
 
 INDIAN \VAr;K10K.
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 45 
 
 (now Zanesfield, Logan county.) Tlie 
 next morning he was hurried away to the 
 place destined for his execution. From 
 Chillicothe to Wapatomika, they had to 
 pass through two other Indian towns, 
 to wit: Pickaway and Machecheek. At 
 both towns he was compelled to run the 
 gauntlet; and severely was he whipped 
 thron2:h the course. While he lav at 
 Machecheek, being carelessly guarded, he 
 made an attempt to escape. Nothing 
 worse than death could follow, and here 
 he made a bold push for life and freedom. 
 Being unconfined, he broke and run, and 
 soon cleared himself out of sight of his 
 pursuers. 
 
 While he distanced his pursuers, and 
 got about two miles from the town, he 
 accidentally met some Indians on horse- 
 back. They instantly pursued and soon 
 came up with him, and drove him back 
 again to town. He now, for the first 
 time, gave up his case as hopeless. 
 Nothing but death stared him in the face. 
 Fate, it appeared to him, had scaled his
 
 46 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 doom ; and in sullen despair, he deter- 
 mined to await that doom, that it was 
 impossible for him to shun. 
 
 How inscrutable are the ways of Provi- 
 dence, and how little can man control 
 his destinv ! When the Indians returned 
 with Kenton to the town, there was a 
 general rejoicing. He was pinioned, and 
 given over to the young Indians, who 
 dragged him into the creek, tumbled him 
 in the water, and rolled him in the mud, 
 till he was nearly suffocated with mud and 
 water. In this way they amused them- 
 selves with him till he was nearly drowned. 
 
 He now thought himself forsaken by 
 God. Shortly after this, his tormentors 
 moved with him to Wapatomika. As 
 soon as he arrived at this place, the 
 Indians, young and old, male and female, 
 crowded around the prisoner. Among 
 others who came to see him, was the 
 celebrated and notorious Simon Girty. 
 Kenton and Girty were bosom com- 
 panions at Fort Pitt, and in the campaign 
 with Lord Dun more.
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 47 
 
 As it was the custom of the Indians to 
 blark such prisoners as were intended 
 to be put to death, Girty did not 
 immediately recognize Kenton in his 
 black disguise. Girty came forward and 
 inquired of Kenton where he had lived. 
 Was answered Ken tuck v. He next in- 
 quired liow many men there were in 
 Kentucky. He answered, he did not 
 know ; but would ^ive him the names and 
 rank of the officers, and he, Girty, could 
 judge of the probable number of men. 
 
 Kenton then named a great many 
 officers, and their rank, many of Avhom 
 had honorary titles, without any com- 
 mand. 
 
 At length Girty asked the prisoner his 
 name. When he was answered, Simon 
 Butler. ( He had changed his name when 
 he Hed from his parents and home.) 
 
 Girty eyed him for a moment, and 
 immediately recognized the active and 
 bold youth, who had been his companion 
 in arms about Fort Pitt, and in the 
 campaign with Lord Dunmore. Girty
 
 48 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 threw himself into Kenton's arms, em- 
 braced and wept aloud over him — calling 
 him his dear and esteemed friend. This 
 hardened wretch, who had been the cause 
 of the death of hundreds, had some of the 
 sparks of humanity remaining in him, 
 and wept like a child at the tragical fate 
 which hung over his friend. "Well," said 
 he, to Kenton, "you are condemned to die, 
 but I will use every means in my power 
 to save your life." 
 
 Girty immediately had a council con- 
 vened, and made a long speech to the 
 Indians, to save the life of the prisoner. 
 As Girty was proceeding through his 
 speech, he became very animated ; and 
 under his powerful eloquence, Kenton 
 could plainly discover the grim visages of 
 his savage judges relent. When Girty 
 concluded his powerful and animated 
 speech, the Indians rose with one simul- 
 taneous grunt of approbation, saved the 
 prisoner's life, and placed him under the 
 care and protection of his old companion, 
 Girty.
 
 KEXTOy AND GIRTY.
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 51 
 
 The British had a trading establish- 
 ment then at Wapatomika. Girty took 
 Kenton with him to the store, and dressed 
 him from head to foot, as well as he could 
 wish : he was also provided with a horse 
 and saddle. Kenton was now free, and 
 roamed about through the country, from 
 Indian town to town, in company with 
 his benefactor. How uncertain is the fate 
 of nations as well as that of individuals ! 
 How sudden the changes from adversity 
 to prosperity, and from prosperity to 
 adversity. 
 
 Kenton being a strong, robust man, 
 with an iron frame, with a resolution that 
 never winced at danger, and fortitude to 
 bear pain with the composure of a stoic, 
 he soon recovered from his scourges and 
 bruises, and the other severe treatment 
 he had received. It is thought probable, 
 that if the Indians had continued to treat 
 him with kindness and respect, he would 
 eventually have become one of them. He 
 had but few inducements to return acrain 
 to the whites. He was then a fugitive
 
 52 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 from justice, Iiad changed his name, and 
 he thought it his interest to keep as far 
 from his former acquaintances as possible. 
 After Kenton and his benefactor had 
 been roaming about for some time, a 
 war party of Indians, who had been on 
 an expedition to the neighborhood of 
 Wheeling, returned ; they had been de- 
 feated by the whites, some of their men 
 were killed, and others wounded. When 
 this . defeated party returned they were 
 sullen, chagrined, and fall of revenge, 
 and determined to kill any of the Avhites 
 who came within their grasp. 
 
 Kenton was the only white man upon 
 whom they could satiate their revenge. 
 Kenton and Girty were then at Solomon's 
 town, a small distance from Wapatomika. 
 A messenger Avas immediately sent to 
 Girty to return, and bring Kenton with 
 him. The two friends met the mes- 
 senger on their way. The messenger 
 shook hands with Girty, but refused the 
 hand of Kenton. 
 
 Girtv, after talkincr aside with the
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 55 
 
 messenger some time, said to Kenton, 
 they have sent for us to attend a grand 
 council at Wapatomika. They hurried to 
 the town ; and when they arrived there 
 the council-house was crow^ded. When 
 Girty went into the house, the Indians all 
 rose up and shook hands with him ; but 
 when Kenton offered his hand, it w^as 
 refused w^ith a scowl of contempt. This 
 alarmed him ; he began to admit the 
 idea that this sudden convention of the 
 council, and their refusing his hand, 
 boded him some evil. 
 
 After the members of the council were 
 seated in their usual manner, the war 
 chief of the defeated party, rose up and 
 made a most vehement speech, frequently 
 turning his fiery and revengeful eyes on 
 Kent(m during his speech. Girty was 
 the next to rise and address the council. 
 He told them that he had lived with 
 them several years; that he had risked 
 his life in that time more frequently than 
 any of them ; that they all knew that he 
 had never spared the life of one of the
 
 56 ADVENTUKES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 hated Americans ; that they well knew 
 that he had never asked for a division of 
 the spoils ; that he fought alone for the 
 destruction of their enemies ; and he now 
 requested them to spare the life of this 
 young man on liis account. The young 
 man, he said, was his early friend, for 
 whom he felt the tenderness of a parent 
 for a son, and he lioped, after the many 
 evidences that he had given of Ids attach- 
 ment to the Indian cause, thev would not 
 hesitate to grant his request. If they 
 would indulcre him in crranting his re- 
 quest to spare the life of this young man, 
 he would pledge himself never to ask 
 them again to spare the life of a hated 
 American. 
 
 Several chiefs spoke in succession on 
 this important subject ; and with the 
 most apparent deliberation, the council 
 decided, by an overwhelming majority, 
 for death. After the decision of this 
 grand court was announced, Girty went 
 to Kenton, and embracing liim very 
 tenderly, said that he very sincerely sym-
 
 2 
 
 O 
 
 r 
 
 Si 
 
 —I
 
 I
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 59 
 
 pathized with him in his forlorn and 
 unfortunate situation ; that he had used 
 all the efforts he was master of to save 
 his life, but it was now decreed that he 
 must die — that he could do no more for 
 him. Awful doom ! 
 
 It will be recollected, that this was 
 in 1778, in the midst of the American 
 revolution. Upper Sandusky was then 
 the place where the British paid their 
 western Indian allies their annuities ; and 
 as time might effect what his eloquence 
 could not, Girty, as a last resort, 
 persuaded the Indians to convey their 
 prisoner to Sandusky, as they would meet 
 vast numbers to receive their presents ; 
 that the assembled tribes could there 
 witness the solemn scene of the death of 
 the prisoner. To this proposition the 
 council agreed ; and the prisoner was 
 placed in tlie care of five Indians, who 
 forthwith set off for Upper Sandusky. 
 What windings, and twistings, and turn- 
 ings, were seen in the fate of our hero ! 
 
 As the Indians ])assed from Wapa-
 
 GO ADVENTUKKS OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 toiriika to Upper Sandusk}", they Vvciit 
 through a small village on the river 
 Scioto, Avhere then resided the celebrated 
 chief, Logan, of Jefferson memory. Logan, 
 unlike the rest of his tribe, was humans 
 as he was brave. At his wigwam the 
 party who had the care of the prisoner, 
 staid over night. During the evening, 
 Logan entered into conversation with 
 the prisoner. 
 
 The next mornine; he told Kenton 
 that he would detain the party that 
 day — that he had sent two of his young 
 men off the night before to Upper San- 
 dusky, to speak a good word for him. 
 Logan was great and good — the friend 
 of all men. In the course of the following 
 evening his young men returned, and 
 early the next morning the guard set 
 off with the prisoner for Upper Sandusky. 
 
 When Kenton's party set off from 
 Logan's, Logan shook hands with the 
 prisoner, but gave no intimation of what 
 might probably be his fate. The party 
 went on with Kenton till they came in
 
 ABVENTUEES OF SIMOX KENTON. 
 
 61 
 
 '^ ^^ 
 
 ,N ? 
 
 
 
 
 -\'5f^^'v^. 
 
 
 ^^Kt^t 
 
 
 LOGAN TAKING LEAVE OF KENTON. 
 
 view of the Upper Sandusky town. The 
 
 Indians, young and old, came out to 
 
 meet and welcome the warriors, and 
 
 view the prisoner. Here he was not 
 
 compelled to run the gauntlet. A grand 
 
 council was immediately convened to 
 
 determine upon the fate of Kenton. 
 
 This was the fourth council Avhich was 
 
 held to dispose of the life of the prisoner. 
 
 As soon as this grand court was 
 
 I)
 
 62 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 organized and ready to proceed to busi- 
 ness, a Canadian Frenchman, by the 
 name of Peter Druyer, who was a captain 
 in the British service, and dressed in the 
 gaudy appendages of the British uniform, 
 made his appearance in the council. 
 This Druver was born and raised in 
 Detroit — he was connected with the Brit- 
 ish Indian agent dej^artment — was their 
 principal interpreter in settling Indian 
 affairs; this made him a man of great 
 consequence among the Indians. It was 
 to this influential man, that the good 
 chief Logan, the friend of all the human 
 family, sent his young men to intercede 
 for the life of Kenton. His judgment 
 and address were only equalled by his 
 humanit}^ His foresight in selecting the 
 agent who it was most probable could 
 save the life of the prisoner, proves 
 his judgment and his knowledge of the 
 human heart. 
 
 As soon as the grand council was 
 organized. Captain Druyer re([uested per- 
 mission to address the council. This
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON". 
 
 63 
 
 
 KENTOiX S PAKTY GOING TO DETROIT, 
 
 permission was instantly granted. He 
 began his speech by stating, "that it was 
 well known that it was the wish and 
 interest of the English that not an 
 American should be left alive. That the 
 Americans weie the cause of the present 
 bloody and distressing war — that neither 
 peace nor safety could be expected, so 
 long as these intruders were permitted to 
 live upon the earth." This part of his 
 speech received repeated grunts of aj[)pro-
 
 64 ADVENTURES OF SIMOX KENTON. 
 
 batioii. He then explained to the Indians, 
 "that the war to be carried on success- 
 fully, required cunning as well as bravery 
 — that the intelliixence which nii2:ht be 
 extorted from a prisoner, would be of 
 more advantage, in conducting the future 
 operations of the war, than would be the 
 lives of twenty prisoners. That he had 
 no doubt but the commanding officer at 
 Detroit could procure information from 
 the prisoner now before them, that would 
 be of incalculable advantage to them in 
 the progress of the present war. Under 
 these circumstances, he hoped they would 
 defer the death of the prisoner till he was 
 taken to Detroit, and examined by the 
 commanding general. After which he 
 could be brought back, and if thought 
 advisable, upon further consideration, he 
 might be put to death in any manner 
 tliey thought pro|)er.'' He next noticed, 
 *• tliat they had already had a great deal of 
 trouble and fatigue with the prisoner 
 with(mt being revenged upon him ; but 
 that they had got back all the horses the
 
 ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 65 
 
 prisoner had stolen from tliem, and killed 
 
 one of his comrades ; and to insure them 
 
 something for their fatigue and trouble, 
 
 he himself would give one hundred 
 
 dollars in rum and tobacco, or any other 
 
 articles they would choose, if they would 
 
 let him take the prisoner to Detroit, to 
 
 be examined by the British general." 
 
 The Indians, without hesitation, agreed 
 
 to Captain Druyers's proposition, and he 
 
 paid down the ransom. As soon as 
 
 these arrangements were concluded, 
 
 Druyer and a principal chief set off with 
 
 the prisoner for Lower Sandusky. From 
 
 this place they proceeded by water to 
 
 Detroit, where they arrived in a few days. 
 
 Here the prisoner was handed over to 
 
 the commanding officer, and lodged in 
 
 the fort as a prisoner of war. He was 
 
 now out of danger from the Indians, and 
 
 was treated with the usual attention of 
 
 prisoners of war in civilized countries. 
 
 The British commander gave the Indians 
 
 some additional remuneration for the 
 
 life of the prisoner, and they returned 
 6*
 
 6Q ADVENTURES OF SIMON KENTON. 
 
 satisfied to join tlieir countrymen at 
 Wapatomika. 
 
 As soon as Kenton's mind was out of 
 suspense, his robust constitution and 
 iron frame in a few days recovered from 
 the severe treatment they had undergone. 
 Kenton remained at Detroit until the 
 June following, when he, with other 
 prisoners, escaped, and after enduring 
 great privations, rejoined their friends. 
 
 About the year 1802, he settled in 
 Urbana, where he remained some years, 
 and was elected brigadier-general of 
 militia. In the war of 1812, he joined 
 the army of General Harrison, and was 
 at the battle of the Moravian town, 
 where he displayed his usual intrepidity. 
 About the year 1820, he moved to the 
 head of Mad river. A few years after, 
 through the exertions of Judge Burnet 
 and General Vance, a i)ension of twenty 
 dollars per month was granted to him, 
 which secured his decliniufr aire from 
 want. He died in 1836, at which time 
 he had been a member of the Methodist
 
 ADVENTURES OF SLMOX KENTON. 
 
 67 
 
 GKNEKAL HARRISON. 
 
 church about eighteen years. The frosts 
 of more than eighty winters had fallen 
 on his head without entirely whitening 
 his locks.
 
 Who has not heard of Brady — captain 
 
 of the spies ? — Of his perilous adventures 
 
 by field and flood ? — Of his hair-breadth 
 
 escapes in the imminent deadly breach ? 
 
 — Of his chivalrous courage? — Of his 
 
 unmatched personal activity? — Yet where 
 
 do we ever read his history ? It is to be 
 
 learned only from the aged settlers of 
 
 Western Pennsylvania, or peradventure, 
 
 from a time-worn Eanger; — for a few of 
 
 Brady's warriors still survive. 
 (68)
 
 CAPTAIN BKADY. 
 
 (6<))
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 71 
 
 Actuated by a desire to preserve from 
 oblivion, such portions of Ids life and 
 actions as mav vet be obtained, I have 
 made several attempts to procure from 
 individuals the most interesting events in 
 his military career, but hitherto without 
 success. At length, an aged friend has 
 kindlv offered to furnish such details as an 
 intimate acquaintance with Capt. Brady 
 enables him to give. We trust that the 
 subject will be deemed of such interest, 
 that others wdll contribute their mite, and 
 that an historian will l)e found to place 
 Brady of the Kangers by the side ot 
 Wayne, Marion, Lee of the Legion, and 
 other distinguslied patriots whose memo- 
 ries are immortal. 
 
 He is emphatically the hero of Western 
 Pennsylvania ; and future bards of this 
 region, when time shall have mellowed 
 the facts of historv, will find his name the 
 personification of all that was fearless 
 and fruitful of resource in the hour of 
 danger. His the step that faltered not — ■ 
 the eye that quailed not, e\ en in the terrific
 
 72 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 scenes of Indian warfare. Many a mother 
 has (quieted the fears, and hilled to sleep 
 lier infant family, by the assurance that 
 the broad Allegheny, — the dividing line 
 between the Indians and Whites, — was 
 watched by the gallant Captain and his 
 Eangers ; and to their apprehensions of 
 death or captivity by the Indians, has 
 replied encouragingly, — " They dare not 
 move on the river, for there lies Brady and 
 the Eangers." 
 
 John Brady, the father of Captain 
 Samuel Brady, was born in the State of 
 Delaware, A. D. 1733. Hugh Brady, the 
 father of John, had emigrated from Ire- 
 land. At a very early period Hugh Brady 
 settled within live miles of where Ship- 
 pensburg now stands. The country was 
 then a wilderness, thinly settled by Irish 
 emigrants, simple, sincere, and religious. 
 Many anecdotes are collected, evincive of 
 this, but they would be out of place here. 
 
 During the French and Indian wars, 
 that portion of the country was much 
 iiarassed by the Indians. John Biady and
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 73 
 
 several other young men had been active 
 against them, and, as a mark and reward 
 of merit, he was appointed captain in the 
 provincial line, which at that time was no 
 small distinction. He married Mary 
 Qiiigly, and Samuel, their first child, was 
 born in the town of Shippensburg, A. D. 
 
 1758. 
 
 After the war, and a purchase had been 
 made from the Indians in 1768, John 
 Brady moved with his family to the West 
 Branch of the Susquehanna, where Sam- 
 uel resided with him till June, 1775. Cap- 
 tain John Lowden, a widower, raised a 
 company of volunteer riflemen, seventy in 
 number, and all unmarried, and marched 
 to Boston. Samuel Brady was one of this 
 band, and the Captain intended that he 
 should be an officer, but his father objected, 
 saying, "Let him first learn the duty of a 
 soldier, and then he will know how to act 
 as an officer." 
 
 While the riflemen lay in the " Leaguer 
 of Boston," frequent skirmishes took place. 
 On one occasion Lowden was ordered to 
 
 7
 
 74 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 select some able-bodied men, and wade to 
 an island when the tide was out, and drive 
 out some cattle belonging to the British. 
 He considered Brady too young for this 
 service, and left him out of his selection ; 
 but to the Captain's astonishment, Brady 
 was the second man on the it>land and 
 behaved most gallantly. On another occa- 
 sion, he was sitting on a fence, with his 
 Captain, viewing the British works, when 
 a cannon ball struck the fence under them. 
 Brady was first up, caught the Captain in 
 his arms and raised him saying with great 
 composure, "We are not hurt, captain." 
 Many like instances of his coolness and 
 courage happened while the army lay at 
 Boston. 
 
 In 1776, Samuel Brady was appointed a 
 first lieutenant in Captain Thomas Doyle's 
 company, raised in Lancaster county. He 
 continued with the army, and was in all 
 the principal engagements until after the 
 battle of Monmoutli, when he was pro- 
 moted to a captaincy and ordered to 
 the West under Gcnei'al Broadhcad. On
 
 
 '1 
 
 •I

 
 k 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 77 
 
 their niarcli he had leave to visit his 
 friends in Korthiimberland county. His 
 father, in 1776, had accepted a captaincy 
 in the 12th Pennsylvania Kegiment, was 
 badly wounded at the battle of Brandy- 
 wine, and was then at home. Whilst 
 there, he heard of his brother's death, who 
 had been murdered by the Indians on the 
 9th day of August, 1778. He remained 
 at his father's until the beginning of 1779, 
 when he started for Pittsburg and joined 
 his res;iment. 
 
 Shortly after he arrived at Pittsburg, he 
 heard the news of his father being mur- 
 dered by the Indians, on the 11th day of 
 April, 1779. He then vowed vengeance 
 against all Indians, and he never altered 
 his mind. Here commenced his western 
 exploits. 
 
 At the battle of Princeton he was under 
 Col. Hand of Lancaster, and had advanced 
 too far; they were nearly surrounded — 
 Brady cut a horse out of a team, got his 
 Colonel on, jumped on behind him, and 
 made their escape. 
 
 7* 
 
 *
 
 78 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 At the massacre at Paoli, Brady Irad 
 been on guard, and had laid down with 
 his blanket buckled around him. The 
 British were nearly on thoui IilIoic the 
 sentinel fired. Brady had to run ; he 
 tried to get clear of his blanket coat, but 
 could not. As he jumped a post and rail 
 fence, a British soldier struck at him with 
 his bay(jnet and })inned the blanket to the 
 rail, but so near the eda'e that it tore out. 
 He dashed on — a horseman oyeri.ook him 
 and ordered him to stop. Brady wheeled, 
 shot him down and ran on. He got into a 
 small swamp in a field. He knew of no 
 person but one being in it beside himself, 
 but in the morning there were fifty-five, 
 one of whom was a Lieutenant. They 
 compared comaiissions, Brady's was the 
 oldest ; he took the command and marched 
 them to head-quarters. 
 
 In 1780 a small fort within the present 
 limits of Pittsburg, w^as the head-quarters 
 of Gen. Broadhead, who was charged with 
 the defence of this quarter of the frontier. 
 The CLuitiy north and west of the AUe
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 81 
 
 gheny river was in possession of the In- 
 dians. General Wasliinirton, wliose com- 
 prehensive sagacity foresaw and provided 
 against all dangers that menaced the 
 country, wrote to General Broadhead to 
 select a suitable officer and dispatch him 
 to Sandusky, for the purpose of examining 
 the place and ascertaining the force of 
 British and Indians assembled there, with 
 a view to measures of preparation and 
 defence, against the depredations and 
 attacks to be expected from thence. 
 
 Gen. Broadhead had no hesitation in 
 making the selection of an officer qualified 
 for this difficult and dangerous duty. He 
 sent for Captain Brady, shoAved him 
 Washington's letter, and a draft or map 
 of the country he must traverse; veiy 
 defective, as Brady afterwards discovered, 
 but the best, no doubt, that could be 
 obtained at that time. 
 
 Captain Brady was not insensible to the 
 danfrer or ignorant of the difficultv of ihe 
 enterprise. But he saw the anxiety of the 
 fatlier of his country to procure inform a-
 
 82 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 tion that could only be obtained by this 
 perilous mode, and knew its importance. 
 His own danger was of inferior considera- 
 tion. The appointment was accepted, and 
 selecting a few soldiers, and four Chicka- 
 saw Indians as guides, he crossed the 
 AUepfhenv river, and was at once in the 
 enemy's country. 
 
 It was in May, 1780, that he com- 
 menced his march. The season was 
 uncommonly wet. Everv considerable 
 stream was swollen, neither road, bridge, 
 nor house facilitated their march, or 
 shielded their repose. Part of their pro- 
 vision was picked up by the way as they 
 crept, rather than marched through the 
 wilderness by night, and lay concealed in 
 its branches by day. The slightest trace 
 of his movement, the print of a white- 
 man's foot on the sand of a river, niiglit 
 have occasioned the extermination of the 
 party. Brady was versed in all the wiles 
 of Indian "stratagie," and dressed in the 
 full war-dress of an Indian warrior, and 
 well acquainted with their languages, he
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 83 
 
 ted his band in safety near to the San- 
 dusicy towns, without seeing a hostile 
 Indian. 
 
 The night before he reached Sandusky, 
 lie saw a fire, approached it, and found 
 two squaws reposing beside it. He 
 passed on without molesting them. But 
 his Chickasaws now deserted. This was 
 alarming, for it was probable they had 
 gone over to the enemy. — However, he 
 determined to proceed. With a full 
 knowledge of the horrible death that 
 awaited him, if taken prisoner, he passed 
 on until he stood beside the town and on 
 the bank of the river. 
 
 His Hi'st care was to provide a place of 
 concealment for his men. When this was 
 effected, having selected one man as the 
 companion of his future adventures, he 
 waded the river to an island partially 
 covered with drift-wood, oi)posite the town, 
 where he concealed himself and comrade 
 for the night. 
 
 The next morning a dense fog spread 
 over hill and dale, town and river. All
 
 84 ADVENTUUES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 was hid from Eradj's eyes, save the logs 
 and brush around him. About 11 o'clock 
 it cleared off, and afforded him a view 
 of about tliree thousand Indians engaged 
 in the amusements of the race ground. 
 
 They had just returned from Virginia 
 or Kentucky with some very fine horses. 
 One gray horse in particular attracted his 
 notice. He ^von every race until near 
 evening, when, as if envious of his speed, 
 two riders were placed upon him, jtnd 
 thus was he beaten. The starting i)ost 
 was only a few rods above where Brady 
 lay, and he had a pretty fair chance of 
 enjoying the amusement, without the risk 
 of losing anything by betting on the race. 
 
 He made such observation through 
 the day as was in his power, waded 
 out from the iwsland at night, collected his 
 men, went to the Indian camp he had 
 seen as he came out ; the squaws were 
 still there, took them prisoners, and con- 
 tinued his march homeward. 
 
 The map furnished by Gen. Broadhead 
 was found to be very defective. The dis-
 
 ADVENTDUES OF CAPTAIN BHADY. 85 
 
 tance was represented to be much less 
 than it really was. The provisions 
 and ammunition of the men were 
 exhausted by the time they had reached 
 the Big Beaver, on their return. Biady 
 shot an otter but could not eat it. The 
 last load was in his rifle. They arrived 
 at an old encampment, and found })lenty 
 of strawberries, which they stopped to 
 appease their hunger with. Having dis- 
 covered a deer ti'ack, Brady followed it, 
 telling the men he would jierhaps get a 
 shot at it. He had weut but a few rods 
 when he saw the deer standing broadside 
 to him. He raised his i itle and attempted 
 to tire, but it flashed in tlie pan, and he 
 had not a priming of powder. He sat 
 down, picked the touch hole, and then 
 started on. After going a sliort distance, 
 the patli made a bend, and he saw before 
 him a large Indian on horseback, witli a 
 child before and its mother behind him on 
 the horse, and a number of wai'iiors 
 marching in the rear. His first impulse 
 was to shoot the Indian on horseback,
 
 86 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 but as lie raised the rifle he observed the 
 child's head to roll with the motion of the 
 horse. It was fast asleep and tied to the 
 Indian. He stepped behind the root of a 
 tree and waited until he could shoot the 
 Indian, without danger to the child or its 
 mother. 
 
 When he considered the chance certain, 
 he shot the Indian, who fell from the 
 horse, and the child and its mother fell 
 with him. Biady called to his men with 
 a voice that made the forest ring, to sur- 
 round the Indians and cive them a 
 general fire. He sprung to tlie fallen 
 Indian's poAvder horn, but could not pul! 
 it off. Beins: dressed like an Indian, the 
 woman thought he was one, and said, 
 " Whv did vou shoot vour brother?" He 
 caught up the child, saying, " Jenny 
 Stupes, I am Captain Brady, follow me 
 and I will secure you and your child." 
 He caught her hand in his, carrying the 
 child under the other arm, and dashed 
 into the brush. Many guns were fired at 
 him bv this time, but no ball harmed
 
 
 BRADY IN HIS INDIAN DRESS CARRTINiJ OFF THE CHILD. 
 
 (87)
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 89 
 
 him, and the Indians dreading an ambus- 
 cade, were glad to make off. The next 
 day he arrived at fort M'Intosh with the 
 woman and her child. His men had got 
 there before him. They had heard his 
 war-whoop and knew it was Indians he 
 had encountered, but having no ammuni- 
 tion, they had taken to their heels and 
 ran off. The squaws he had taken at 
 Sandusky, availing themselves of the 
 panic, had also made their escape. 
 
 In those days Indian fashions prevailed 
 in some measure with the whites, at least 
 with Eangers. Brady was desirous of 
 seeing the Indian he had shot, and the 
 officer in command of fort M'Intosh, gave 
 him some men in addition to his own, and 
 he returned to search for the body. The 
 place where he had fallen was discovered, 
 but nothing more. No pains were spared 
 to search, but the body was not found. 
 They were about to quit the place when 
 the yell of a pet Indian that came vrith 
 them from the fort, called them to a little 
 
 glade, where the grave was discovered 
 
 8*
 
 90 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 The Indians had interred their dead 
 brother there, carefully replacing the sod 
 in the neatest manner. They had also 
 cut brushes and stuck them into the 
 ground; but the brushes had withered, 
 and instead of concealing; the o:rave thev 
 led to the discovery. 
 
 He was buried about two feet deep ; 
 with nil his implements of war about him. 
 
 " He lay like a warrior taking his rest, 
 
 "With his powder-horu and pouch about him." 
 
 All his savaoie iewehw, his arms and 
 ammunition were taken from hiui and 
 the scalp from the head, and then they 
 left him thus stripped alone in his grave. 
 It is painful to think of such things being 
 done by American soldiers, but we cannot 
 now know all the excusing circumstances 
 that may have existed at the time. Per- 
 haps the husband of this woman, the 
 father of this child, was thus butchered 
 before his wife and children; and the 
 vounirer members of the familv unable to 
 bear tlie fati2.'ues of travelling, had their 
 brains dashed out on tlie threshold.
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 91 
 
 Such things were common, and a spirit of 
 revenge was deeply seated in the breasts 
 of the people of the frontiers. Captain 
 Brady's own family had heavily felt the 
 merciless tomahawk. His brave and 
 honored father, and a beloved brother 
 had been treacherously slain by the 
 Indians, and he had vowed vengeance. 
 
 After refreshing himself and men, they 
 went up to Pittsburg by w^ater, where 
 thev were received with militarv honor. 
 Minute suns were fired from the time 
 Brady came in sight until he landed. 
 
 The Chickasaw Indians had returned 
 to Pittsburg and reported that the captain 
 and his party had been cut off near San- 
 dusky town by the Indians. 
 
 A few davs after Bradv left Sanduskv 
 
 V tv ^v 
 
 with his squaw prisoners, keeping a sharp 
 look out in expectation of being pursued, 
 and taking every precaution to avoid pur- 
 suit, such as keeping on the driest ridges 
 and walkini:- on ]o2;s whenever thev suited 
 liis course, he found he was followed by 
 Indians. His practised eye would occa-
 
 92 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 sionally discover in the distance, an 
 Indian hopping to or from a tree, or other 
 screen, and advancing on his trail. After 
 being satisfied of the fact, he stated it to 
 his men and told them no Indian could 
 thus pursue him, after the precautions he 
 had taken, without having a dog on his 
 track. " I will stop," said Brady " and 
 shoot the dog and then we can get along 
 better." 
 
 He selected the root of a tall chestnut 
 tree which had fallen westward, for his 
 })lace of ambush. He walked from the 
 west end of the tree or log to the east, 
 and sat down in the pit made by the 
 raising of the root. He had not been long 
 there when a small shit mounted the log 
 at the west end and with her nose to 
 the trunk approached him. Close behind 
 her followed a plumed warrior. Brady 
 had his choice. He preferred shooting 
 the slut, which he did, she rolled off the 
 the log stone dead, and the warrior, with a 
 loud war-whoop, sprung into the woods and 
 disappeared. He was followed no further,
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTxVIN BRADY. 93 
 
 Many of Captain Brady's adventures 
 occurred at periods of which no certainty 
 as to dates can now be had. The follow- 
 ing is of that class. 
 
 His success as a partizan had acquired 
 for him its usual results — approbation 
 with some, and envy with others. Some 
 of his brother officers censured the com- 
 mandant for affording him such frequent 
 opportunities for honorable distinction. — 
 At length an open complaint was made, 
 accompanied by a request, in the nature 
 of a demand, that others should be per- 
 mitted to share with Brady the perils and 
 honors of the service abroad from the fort. 
 The General ai)prised Brady of what had 
 passed, who readily acquiesced in the 
 proposed arrangement ; and an oppor- 
 tunity was not long wanting for testing 
 its efficiency. 
 
 The Indians made an inroad into the 
 Sewickly settlement, committing the most 
 barbarous murders of men, women and 
 children ; stealing such property as was 
 portable, and destroying all else. — The
 
 94 
 
 ADVENTli'RES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 ATTACK ON SEWICKLY SETTLEMENT. 
 
 alarm was broiic^lit to Fittsburs:, and a 
 party of soldiers under the command of 
 tlie emulous officers, dispatched for the 
 protection of the settlements, and chas- 
 tisement of the foe. From this expedi- 
 tion Brady was, of course, excluded : but 
 the restraint was irksome to liis feelings. 
 
 The day after the detachment had 
 marched, he solicited permission from the 
 comnmnder to take a small party for the 
 pnri)Ose of "catching; the Indians;" but 
 was refused. By dint of importunity,
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 95 
 
 however, he at lengtli wrung from him a 
 reluctant consent, and tlie command of 
 five men ; to this be added his j^^t Indian, 
 and made hasty preparation. 
 
 Instead of moving towards Sewickly, as 
 the iirst detacliment had done, he crossed 
 the Allegheny at Pittsburg and proceeded 
 up the river. Conjecturing that the 
 Indians had descended that stream in 
 canoes, till near the settlement, he was 
 careful to examine tlie mouths of all 
 creeks comiug into it, particuhirly from 
 the south-east. At the mouih of Big 
 Mahoninc:, about six miles above Kittan- 
 ning, the canoes were seen drawn up to 
 its western bank. — He instantly retr^^ated 
 down the river, and waited for night. As 
 soon as it was dark, he made a raft, and 
 crossed to tlie Kittaiming side. He 
 then proceeded up the creek, and found 
 that the Indians had, in the meantime, 
 crossed the creek, as their canoes were 
 di'awn to its upper or north-eastern bank. 
 
 The country on both sides of Mahoning, 
 at its mouth, is rough and mountainous ;
 
 96 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 and the stream, which was then high, very 
 rapid. Several ineffectual attempts were 
 made to wade it, which they at length 
 succeeded in doing, three or four miles 
 above the canoes. Next a fire was made, 
 their clothing dried, and arms inspected ; 
 and the party moved toward the Indian 
 camp, which was pitched on the second 
 bank of the river. Brady placed his men 
 at some distance, on the lower or first bank. 
 The Indians had brought from Sewickly 
 a stidlion, which they had fettered and 
 turned to pasture on the lower bank. An 
 Indian, probably the owner, under the 
 law of arms, came frequently down to him 
 and occasioned the party no little trouble. 
 — The horse, too, seemed willing to keep 
 their company, and it required consider- 
 able circumspection to avoid all intercourse 
 with either. Brady became so provoked 
 that he had a strong inclination to toma- 
 hawk the Indian, but his calmer judgment 
 repudiated the act, as likely to put to 
 hazard a more decisive and important 
 achievement.
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY, 
 
 97 
 
 INDIAN STEALING THE ETAXLION. 
 
 At lengtli the Indians seemed quiet, 
 and the Captain detevniined to pay them 
 a closer visit; and, if in doing so, he met 
 with a ludicrous adventure, gentle reader, 
 it is no fault of mine. 
 
 He got quite near their fires ; his pet 
 
 Indian had caught him by the hair and 
 
 gave it a pluck, intimating the advice to 
 
 retire, which he would not venture to 
 
 whisper ; hut finding Brady disregardless 
 
 of it, he crawled off; when the Captain 
 
 who was scannino: their numbers, and 
 
 9
 
 98 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BKADY. 
 
 the position of their guns, observed one 
 throw off his blanket and rise to his feet. 
 It was altogether impracticable for Brady 
 to move, without his being seen. He 
 instantly decided to remain where he 
 was and risk Avhat might happen. He 
 drew his head slowly beneath the brow 
 of the bank, putting his forehead to the 
 earth for concealment. His next sen- 
 sation was that of warm water poured 
 into the hollow of his neck, as from the 
 spout of a tea-pot, which, trickling down 
 his back over the chilled skin, produced 
 a feeling that even his iron nerves could 
 scarce master. He felt quietly for his 
 tomahawk, and had it been about him, 
 he probably would have used it; but he 
 divested himself even of that, when pre- 
 paring to approach the fires, lest by 
 striking against the stones or gravel, it 
 might give the alarm. He was compelled, 
 therefore, "nolens volens," to submit to 
 this very unpleasant operation, until it 
 should please his warriorship to refrain ; 
 which he soon did, and returning to his
 
 ADVrATlTRES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 99 
 
 place, wrapped himself up in his blan- 
 ket, and composed himself for sleep as if . 
 nothing had happened. 
 
 Brady returned too, and posted his men, 
 and in the deepest silence all awaited tlie 
 break of day. When it appeared, the 
 Indians arose and stood around their 
 fires; exulting, doubtless, in the scalps 
 they had taken ; the plunder they had 
 acquired ; and the injury they had 
 inHicted on their enemies. Precarious 
 joy ; short-lived triumph ; the avenger of 
 blood was beside them ! At a signal 
 given, seven rifles cracked, and five 
 Indians were dead ere they fell. Brady's 
 well known war-cry was heard, his party 
 was among them, and their guns (mostly 
 eiiipty) were all secured. The remaining 
 Indians instantly tied and disappeared. 
 One was pursued by the trace of blood, 
 which he seemed to have succeeded in 
 staunching. The^e^ Indian then imitated 
 the cry of a young wolf, which was 
 answered, by the wounded nuin, and the 
 pursuit was again renewed. A second
 
 100 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 time the wolf cry was given and answered, 
 and the pursuit continued into a windfall. 
 Here he must have espied his pursuers, 
 for he answered no more. Brady found 
 his remains three weeks afterwards, being 
 led to the place by ravens that were prey- 
 ino: on the carcase. 
 
 The horse was unfettered, the plunder 
 gathered, and the party commenced their 
 return to Pitt>burg, mostof them descend- 
 ing; in the Indian canoes. 
 
 Three days after their return, the first 
 detachment came in. They repoited that 
 they had followed the Indians closely, but 
 that the latter had got into their canoes 
 and made their escape.
 
 Captain Brady bad returned from San- 
 dusky, perhaps a week, when he was 
 observed one evening by a man of the 
 name of Phouts, sitting in a solitary part 
 of the fort, apparently absorbed in thought 
 — Phouts approached him unregarded, 
 and was pained to the bottom of his 
 lionest heart to perceive that the counten- 
 ance of his honored Captain bore traces of 
 
 9* (101)
 
 102 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BRADY. 
 
 deep care, and even melancholy. Ho 
 accosted him, him, however, in the best 
 English he had, and soothingly said. — 
 "Gabtain, was ails you?" Brady looked 
 at him for a short time without speaking ; 
 then resuming his usual equanimity, 
 replied, " I have been thinking about the 
 red-skins, and it is my opinion there are 
 some above us on the river. I have a 
 mind to pay them a visit. — Now if I get 
 permission from the General to do so, will 
 you go along?" Phouts was a stout thick 
 Dutchman of uncommon strength and 
 activity. He was also well acquainted 
 with the woods. When Brady had ceased 
 speaking, Phouts raised himself on tiptoe, 
 and bringing his heels hard down on the 
 ground, by way of emphasis, his eyes full 
 of fire, said, " By dunder and lightnin', I 
 would rader go mit you, Gabtain, as to 
 any of te finest weddins in tis gountry.'' — 
 Brady told him to keep quiet and say 
 nothing about it, as no man in the fort 
 must know anything of the expedition 
 except Gen. Broadhead — bidding Phouts
 
 i^^c> 
 
 PHOUTS. 
 
 (103)
 
 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PIIOUTS. 105 
 
 call at his tent in about an hour. He 
 went to the General's quarters whom 
 he found reading. After the usual topics 
 were discussed, Brady proposed for con- 
 sideration, his project of ascending the 
 Allegheny, with but one man in company ; 
 stating his reasons for apprehending a 
 descent from that quarter by the Indians. 
 The General gave his consent, at parting 
 took him by the hand in a friendly 
 manner, advising him how to proceed, 
 and charging him particularly to be care- 
 ful of his own life, and that of the men or 
 man whom he might select to accompany 
 him ; so affectionate were the General's 
 admonitions, and so great the emotion he 
 displayed, that Brady left him with tears 
 in his eyes, and repaited to his tent, where 
 he found Phouts in deep conversation with 
 one of his 7;^^ Indians. 
 
 He told Phouts of his success wdth the 
 General, and that, as it was early in the 
 light of the moon, they must get ready 
 and be off betimes. 
 
 They immediately set about cleaning
 
 106 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PIIOUTS. 
 
 Jheir guns, preparing their ammunition 
 and having secured a small quantity of 
 salt, they lay down together, and slept 
 soundly until about two hours before dav- 
 break. Brady awoke first, and stirrino: 
 Phouts, each took down the "deadly rifle," 
 and w^hilst all but the sentinels were 
 wrapt in sleep, they left the little fort, and 
 in a short time found themselves deep 
 buried in the forest. That day they 
 marched through woods never traversed 
 by either of them before ; following the 
 general course of the river they reached a 
 small creek that put in from the Pitts- 
 burg side; it was near night when they 
 got there, and having no provision, they 
 concluded to remain there all night. 
 
 Phouts struck fire, and after having 
 kindled a little, they covered it up with 
 leaves and brush, to keep it in. They 
 then proceeded up the creek to look for 
 game. About a mile from the mouth of 
 the creek, a run comes into it; upon this 
 run was a lick apparently much fre- 
 quented by deer. They placed themselves
 
 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PIIOUTS. 107 
 
 in readiness, and in a short time two deer 
 came in; Phouts shot one, which they 
 skinned and carried over to their fire, and 
 during the night jh^ked a great part of it. 
 In the morning they took what they coukl 
 carry of jerked, and hung the remainder 
 on a small tree, in the skin, intending, if 
 they were si)ared to return, to call for it 
 on their way homeward. 
 
 Kext morning they started early and 
 travelled hard all day ; near evening they 
 espied a number of crows hovering over 
 the tops of the trees near the bank of the 
 river. Bradv told Phouts that there were 
 Indians in the neighborhood, or else the 
 men who were expected from Susque- 
 hanna at Pittsburg where they encamped, 
 or had been some time before. 
 
 Phouts was anxious to go down and 
 see, but Brady forbade him ; telling him 
 at the same time " We must secrete our- 
 selves till after night, when fires will be 
 made by them, be they whom they may." 
 Accordingly they hid themselves amongst 
 fallen timber and remained so till about
 
 108 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PIIOUTS. 
 
 SHOOTING DEER. 
 
 ten o'clock at night. But even then they 
 could still see no fire. Brady concluded 
 there must be a hill or thick woods 
 between him and wheie the crows were 
 seen, and decirled on leaving his hiding 
 place to ascertain the fact; Phouts ac- 
 companied him. — They walked with the 
 utmost caution down towards the river 
 bank, and had gone about tw^o hundred 
 yards, when they observed the t^vinkling 
 of a fire, at some distance on their right. 
 They at first thought the river made a 
 very short bend, 1)ut on proceeding
 
 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PlIOUTS. 109 
 
 further they discovered that it was a fork 
 or branch of the river, probably the 
 Kiskeminetas. Brady desired Phouts to 
 stay where he was, intending to go him- 
 self to the fire, and see who was there; 
 but Phouts refused, saying, "No, by 
 George, I vill see too." They approached 
 the fire together, but with the utmost 
 care; and from aj^pearances judged it to 
 be an Indian encampment, much too large 
 to be attacked by them. 
 
 Having resolved to ascertain the num- 
 ber of the enemy, the Captain of the Spies 
 and his brave comrade went close u{) to 
 the fire, and discovered an old Indian 
 sitting beside a tree near the fire, either 
 mending or making a pair of moccasins. 
 
 Phouts, who never thought of danger, 
 was for shooting the Indian immediately ; 
 but Brady prevented him. After examin- 
 ing carefully around the camp, he was of 
 opinion that the number by which it was 
 made had been large, but that they 
 were principally absent. — He determined 
 
 on knowing more in the morning; and 
 
 10
 
 110 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PHOUTS. 
 
 forcing Phouts away with him, who was 
 bent on killing tlie old Indian, he retired' 
 a short distance into the woods to await 
 the approach of day. As soon as it 
 appeared they returned to the camp 
 again, but saw no living thing, except the 
 old Indian, a dog and a horse. 
 
 Brady wished to see tlie country around 
 the camp, and understand its features 
 better ; for this purpose he kept at some 
 distance from it, and examined about, till 
 he got on the river above it. Here he 
 found a lara;e trail of Indians, who had 
 gone up the Allegheny : to his judgment 
 it appeared to have been made one or two 
 days before. — Upon seeing this he con- 
 cluded on going back to the camp, and 
 taking the old Indian prisoner. 
 
 Supposing the old savage to have arms 
 about him, and not wishing to run the 
 risk of the alarm the report of a rifle 
 might create, if Indians were in the 
 neighborhood, Brady determined to seize 
 the old fellow single-handed, without 
 doing bim further ''scathe," and carry
 
 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PIIOUTS. Ill 
 
 
 INDIAN CAMP. 
 
 liim off to Pittsburg. "With this view 
 both C!'e2:)t toward the camp again very 
 cautiously. When they came so near as 
 to perceive him, the Indian was lying on 
 his back, with his head towards them. 
 
 Brady ordered Phouts to lemain where 
 he was, and not to fire at all unless the 
 dog should attempt to assist his master. 
 In that case he w^as to shoot the dog, 
 but by no means to hurt the Indian. 
 The plan being arranged, Brady dr()])ped 
 his rifle, and, tomahawk in hand, silently 
 crept towards the " old man of the woods," 
 tin withiu a few feet, then raisins: liinisuif
 
 112 Exrynsiox of brady asd phouts. 
 
 up, he made a spring like a panther, an(^ 
 with a veil that awakened the echoes 
 round, seized the Indian, hard and fast bv 
 (he throat. The okl man struggled a little 
 at first, but Brady's was the grip of a lion; 
 holdino; his tomahawk over the head of 
 his prisoner, he bade him surrender, as 
 he valued his life. — The dog behaved 
 very civilly; he merely growled a little. 
 Phouts came up and they tied their 
 prisoner. On examining the camp they 
 found nothing of value except some 
 powder and lead, which they threw into 
 the river. When the Indian learned tliat 
 he was to be taken to Pittsburg, and 
 wuuld be kindlv treated, he shewed then) 
 a canoe, which they stepped into with 
 their juisoner and his dog, and Avere 
 soon afloat on the smooth bosom of the 
 Allegheny, 
 
 They paddled swiftly along for the 
 purpose of reaching the moutli of the I'un 
 on which they had encamped coming up ; 
 for Brady had left his wiping-rod there. 
 It was late when they got to the creek's
 
 10* 
 
 IHK OLD INDIAN. 
 
 (113)
 
 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PHOUTS 115 
 
 mouth. They landed, made a fire, and 
 all laid down to sleep. 
 
 As soon as day-light appeared, the 
 captain started to where their jerk was 
 honging, leaving Phouts in charge of the 
 prisoner and his canoe. He had not left 
 the camp long, till the Indian complained 
 to Phouts that the cords upon his wrist 
 hurt him. He had probably discovered 
 that in Phouts' composition tliere was a 
 much larger proportion of kindness than 
 of fear. The Dutch nmn at once took off 
 the cords, and the Indian was, or 
 pretended to be, very grateful. 
 
 Phouts was busied with something 
 else in a minute, and had left his gun 
 standing by a tree. The moment the 
 Indian saw that the eye of the other was 
 not upon him, lie s])rang to the tree, 
 seized the gun, and the first Phouts knew 
 was that it was cocked, and at his breast, 
 whereupon he let out a most magnificent 
 roar and jumped at the Indian. But 
 the trigger was pulled, and the bullet 
 whistled past him, taking with it a part
 
 116 EXCURSION OF BRADY AND PHOUTS. 
 
 of his shot-pouch belt. One stroke of the 
 Dutchman's tomahawk settled the Indian 
 forever, and nearly severed the head from 
 his body. 
 
 Brady heard the report of the rifle, and 
 the yell of Phouts ; and supposing all was 
 not right, ran instantly to the spot, where 
 he found the latter, sitting on the body 
 of the Indian, examining the rent in 
 his shot-pouch belt. "In the name of 
 Heaven," said Brady, "what have you 
 done!" — "Yust look, Gabtan," said the 
 
 fearless Dutchman, "vas dis d d black 
 
 b h vas apout;" — holding up to view 
 
 the hole in his belt. He then related 
 what has been stated with respect to his 
 untieing the Indian, and the attempt of 
 the latter to kill him. — They then took 
 off the scalp of the Indian, got their canoe, 
 took in the Indian's dog, and returned to 
 Pittsburg, the fourth day after their 
 departure. 
 
 The Captain related to the General 
 what Ir "had seen, and gave it as his 
 opinion, that the Indians, wiiose camp he
 
 EXCURSIOi^ OF BRADY AND PHOUTS. 117 
 
 had discovered, were about making an 
 attack upon the Susquehanna settlement 
 — The General was of the same opinion, 
 and was much affected by the information; 
 for he had just made a requisition upon 
 the country for men, and had been ex- 
 pecting them on every day. He now 
 feared that the Indians would either draw 
 tliem into an ambuscade and cut them 
 off, or fall upon their families, rendered 
 defenceless by their absence.
 
 Peter Francisco, a soldier of the Ecvo- 
 lution, and celebrated for his personal 
 strength, lived and raised his family in 
 
 Buckingham, where he died a few years 
 
 (118)
 
 ADVENTURES OF PETER FRANCISCO. 119 
 
 since. His origin was obscure. He sup- 
 posed that he was a Portuguese by biilh, 
 and that he was kidnapped when an 
 infant, and carried to IreLand. He had 
 no recollection of his parents, and the 
 first knowledge he preserved of himself 
 was living in that country when a small 
 boy. Hearing much of America, and being 
 of an adventurous turn, he indented him- 
 oclf to a sea-captain for seven years, in 
 payment for his passage. On his arrival 
 he Avas sold to Anthony Winston, Escp, of 
 Buckingham county, on whose estate he 
 labored faithfully until the breaking out of 
 the revolution. He was then at the age of 
 sixteen, and partaking of the patriotic 
 enthusiasm of the times, he asked and 
 obtained permission of his owner to enlist 
 in the continental army. At the storming 
 of Stony Point, he was the first soldier, 
 after Major Gibbon, who entered the 
 fortress, on which occasion he received a 
 bayonet wound in tlie thigh. He was at 
 Brandy wine, Monmouth, and other battles 
 at the north, and was transferred to the
 
 120 ADVENTUHES OF PETER FRANCISCO. 
 
 south under Greene, where he was en- 
 gaged in the actions of the Cowjjens, 
 Camden, Guilford Court House, &c. He 
 was a very brave man, and possessed 
 such confidence in his prowess as to be 
 almost fearless. He used a sword having 
 a blade five feet in length, which he could 
 wield as a feather, and every swordsman 
 who came in contact with him, paid the 
 forfeit of his life. His services were so 
 distinguished, that he would have been 
 promoted to an office had he been enabled 
 to write. His stature was six feet and an 
 inch, and his weight two lumdred and 
 sixty pounds. His complexion was dark 
 and swarthy, features bold and manly, 
 and his hands and feet uncommonly 
 large. Such was his personal strength, 
 that he could easily shoulder a cannon 
 weighing one thousand one hundred 
 pounds ; and our informant, a highly 
 respectable gentleman now residing in 
 this county, in a communication before 
 us, says: "he could take me in his right 
 hand and X)ass over the room with me,
 
 ADVENTURES OF PETER FRANCISCO. 121 
 
 and play my head against the ceiling, as 
 though I had been a doll-baby. My 
 weight was one hundred and ninety five 
 pounds." The following anecdote, illus- 
 trative of Francisco's valor, has often 
 been published: — 
 
 " While the British army were spread- 
 ing havoc and desolation all around them, 
 by their plunderings and burnings in 
 Virginia, in 1781, Francisco had been 
 reconnoitring, and while stopping at the 
 
 house of a Mr. Y , then in Amelia 
 
 (now N'ottoway) county, nine of Tarleton's 
 cavalry came up, with three negroes, and 
 told him he was their prisoner. Seeing 
 he was overpowered by numbers, he made 
 no resistance. Believing him to be very 
 peaceable, they all went into the house, 
 leaving him and the paymaster together. 
 'Give up instantly, all that you possess 
 of value,' said the latter, 'or prepare to 
 die.' *I have nothing to give up,' said 
 Francisco, 'so use your pleasure.' 'Deliver 
 instantly,' rejoined the soldier, 'those 
 
 massy silver buckles which you wear in 
 
 11 ^
 
 122 ADVENTURES OF PETER FRANCISCO. 
 
 your shoes.' 'They v^'ere a present from 
 a valued friend,' replied Francisco, 'and 
 it would grieve me to part with them. 
 Give them into your hands I never will. 
 You have the power; take them, if you 
 think fit.' The soldier put his sabre 
 under his arm, and bent down to take 
 them. Francisco, finding so favorable an 
 opportunity to recover his liberty, stepped 
 one pace in his rear, drew the sword with 
 force from under his arm, and instantly 
 gave him a blow across the scull. 'My 
 enemy,' observed Francisco, 'was brave, 
 and though severely wounded, drew a 
 pistol, and, in the same moment that he 
 pulled the trigger, I cut his hand nearly 
 off. The bullet grazed my side. Ben. 
 Y (the man of the house) very un- 
 generously brought out a musket, and 
 gave it to one of the British soldiers, 
 and told him to make use of that. He 
 mounted the only horse they could get, 
 and presented it at my breast. It missed 
 fire. I riislied on the muzzle of the gun. 
 A short struggle ensued. 1 disarmed and
 
 ADVENTURES OF PETER FRANCISCO. 125 
 
 wounded him. Taiieton's troop of fsar 
 
 hundred men were in sight. All was 
 
 hurry and confusion, which I increased by 
 
 repeatedly halloing, as loud as I could, 
 
 Come on, my brave boys ; now's your 
 
 time ; we will soon dispatch these few, 
 
 and then attack the main bodv! The 
 
 wounded man flew to the troop , the 
 
 others were panic struck, and lied. I 
 
 seized Y , and would have dispatched 
 
 him, but the poor wretch begged for his 
 
 life; he was not only an object of my 
 
 contempt, but pity. The eight horses 
 
 that were left behind, I gave him to 
 
 conceal for me. Discovering Tarleton had 
 
 dispatched ten more in pursuit of me, I 
 
 made off. I evaded their vigilance. They 
 
 stopped to refresh themselves. I, like an 
 
 old fox, doubled, and fell on their rear. I 
 
 went the next day to Y for my 
 
 horses ; he demanded two, for his trouble 
 
 and generous intentions. Finding my 
 
 situation dangerous, and surrounded by 
 
 enemies where I ought to have found 
 
 friends, I went off ^vith my six horses. 1 
 
 11*
 
 126 ADVENTURES OF PETER FRANCISCO. 
 
 intended to have avenged myself of Y 
 
 at a future day, but Providence ordained I 
 should not be his executioner, for he 
 bi-oke liis neck by a fall from one of those 
 vvvj horses.' " 
 
 Several other anecdotes are related of 
 the strength and bi'avery of Francisco. 
 At Gates' defeat at Camden, after run- 
 ning some distance along a road, he took 
 to the woods and sat down to rest; a 
 British trooper came up and ordered him 
 to surrender. With feigned humility, he 
 replied he would, and added, as his 
 musket was empty, he IvM no further use 
 fur it. He then carelessly presented it 
 sideways, and thus throwing the soldier 
 off his guard, he suddenly levelled the 
 piece, and driving the bayonet through 
 his abdomen, hurled him off his horse, 
 mounted it, and continued his retreat, 
 boon he overtook his colonel, William 
 Mayo, of Powhatan, who was on foot. 
 Francisco generously dismounted and 
 gave up the animal to his retreating 
 officer, for which act of kindness the
 
 ADVENTURES OF PETER FRANCISCO. 127 
 
 colonel subsequently presented him with 
 a thousand acres of land in Kentucky. 
 
 Francisco was possessed of strong natu- 
 ral sense, and an amiable disposition. 
 He was, withal, a companionable man, 
 and ever a welcome visitor in the first 
 families in this region of the state. He 
 was industrious and temperate, and al- 
 ways advocated the part of the weak and 
 unprotected. On occasions of outbreaks, 
 at public gatherings, he was better, in 
 rushing in and preserving public peace, 
 than all the conservative authorities on 
 the ground. Late in life, partly through 
 the influence of his friend, Chas. Yancey, 
 Esq., he was appointed sergeant-at-arms 
 to the House of Delegates, in which 
 service he died, in 1836, and was interred 
 with military honors in the public bmy- 
 ing-ground at Eichmond.
 
 joe Jog^fo^. 
 
 A WRITER in the American Pioneer, Mr. 
 
 Felix Kenick, has given some anecdotes 
 
 of "Big Joe Logston," who lived in 
 
 Virginia, in the latter part of the last 
 
 century. "No Kentuckian," says he, 
 
 "could ever, with greater propriety than 
 
 he, have said, 'I can out-run, out-hop, 
 
 out-jump, throw down, drag out, and 
 
 whip any man in the country.' " Big Joe 
 
 removed from the vicinity of the source of 
 
 the north branch of the Potomac, to 
 
 Kentucky, about the year 1790, during 
 
 the prevalence of the Indian wars. Mr. 
 (128)
 
 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOGSTON. 129 
 
 Eenick gives tlie following account of a 
 desperate fight which he had in that 
 country with two Indians : 
 
 Riding along a path which led into a 
 fort, he came to a fine vine of grapes. 
 He laid his gun across the pommel of his 
 saddle, set his hat on it, and filled it with 
 grapes. He turned into tlie path, and 
 rode carelessly along, eating his grapes; 
 and the first intimation he bad of danQ:er, 
 was the crack of two rifles, one from each 
 side of the road. One of the balls passed 
 through the paps of his breast which 
 for a male, were remarkably i)rominent, 
 almost as much so as those of many 
 nurses. The ball just gi-azed the skin 
 between the pnps, but did not injure the 
 breast-bone. The other ball struck his 
 horse behind the saddle, and he sank 
 in his tracks. Thus was Joe eased off 
 his horse in a manner more rare than 
 welcome. Still he was on his feet in an 
 instant, with his rifle in his hands, and 
 might have taken to his heels ; and I will 
 venture the opinion that no Indian could
 
 130 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOGSTON. 
 
 have caught him. That, he said was not 
 his sort. He had never left a battle- 
 ground without leaving his mark, and he 
 was resolved that that should not be the 
 first. The moment the guns were hred, one 
 very athletic Indian sprang towards him 
 with tomahawk in hand. His eye was 
 on him, and his gun to his eye, ready, as 
 soon as he approached near enough to 
 make a sure shot, to let him have it. As 
 soon as the Indian discovered this, he 
 jumped behind two pretty large saplings, 
 some small distance apart, neither of 
 which was large enough to cover his 
 body, and, to save himself as well as he 
 could, he kept springing from one to the 
 other. 
 
 Joe, knowing he had two enemies 
 on the ground, kept a look-out for the 
 other by a quick glance of the eye He 
 presently discovered him behind a ti-ee 
 loading his gun. The tree was not quite 
 large enough to hide him. AVhen in the 
 act of pushing down his bullet, he ex- 
 posed pi'elty faiily his hips. Joe. in the
 
 JOS LOGSTOX 8 COMBAT WITH TWO INDIANS. 
 
 (131)
 
 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOGSTON. 133 
 
 twinkling of an eye, wheeled, and let him 
 have his load in the part exposed. The 
 big Indian then, with a mighty "Ugh!" 
 rnshed towards him with his raised 
 tomahawk. Here were two warriors met, 
 each determined to conquer or die — each 
 the Goliath of his nation. The Indian 
 had rather the advantage in size of frame, 
 but Joe in weight and muscular strength. 
 The Indian made a halt at the distance 
 of fifteen or twenty feet, and threw his 
 tomahawk witli all his force, but Joe had 
 his eye on him and dodged it. It flew 
 quite out of the reach of either of them. 
 Joe then (flubbed his gun and made at 
 the Indian, thinking to knock him down. 
 The Indian sprang into some brush or 
 sai)lings, to avoid his blows — he depended 
 entirely on dodging, with tlie help of the 
 saplings. At length Joe, thinking he 
 had a pretcy fair chance, made a side 
 blow with such force, that, missing the 
 dodging Indian, the gun, now reduced to 
 the naked barrel, was drawn quite out 
 of his hand, and flew entire Iv out of 
 
 12
 
 134 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOGSTON. 
 
 reach. The Indian now gave another 
 exulting "Ugh!" and sprang at him with 
 all the savage fury he was master of. 
 Neither of them had a Aveapon in his 
 hands, and the Indian, seeing Logston 
 bleeding freely, thought he could throw 
 him down and dispatch him. In this he 
 was mistaken. They seized each other, 
 and a desperate scuffle ensued, Joe could 
 throw him down, but could not hold him 
 there. The Indian being naked, w^ith his 
 hide oiled, had greatly the advantage in a 
 ground scuffle, and would still slip out of 
 Joe's grasp and rise. After thiowing 
 him five or six times, Joe found, that 
 between loss of blood and violent exer- 
 tions, his wind was leaving him, and that 
 he must change the mode of warfare or 
 lose his scalp, which he was not yet 
 willing to spare. He threw the Indian 
 again, and without attempting to hold 
 him, jumped from him, and as he rose, 
 aimed a list blow at his head, which 
 caused him to fall back, and, as he w^ould 
 rise, Joe gave him several blows in
 
 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOGSTOX. 1 35 
 
 succession, the Indian rising slower each 
 time. He at last succeeded in giving 
 him a pretty fair blow in the burr of the 
 ear, with all his force, and he fell, as Joe 
 thought, prett}^ near dead. Joe jumped 
 on him, and thinking he could dispatch 
 him by choking, grasped his neck with 
 his left hand, keeping his right one free 
 for contingencies. Joe soon found the 
 Indian was not so dead as he thou2:ht, 
 and that he was making some use of his 
 right arm, which lay across his body, and, 
 on casting liis eye doNvn discovered the 
 Indian was making an effort to unsheath a 
 knife that was hanging at his belt. The 
 knife was short, and so sunk in the 
 sheath that it was necessary to force it 
 up by pressing against the point. This 
 the Indian was trying to effect, and with 
 good success. Joe kept his eye on it, and 
 let the Indian work the handle out, when 
 he suddenly grabbed it, jerked it out ol 
 the sheath, and sunk it up to the handle 
 into the Indian's breast, who gave a 
 death groan and expired.
 
 136 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOGSTOX. 
 
 Joe now thought of the other Indian, 
 and not knowing how far he had suc- 
 ceeded in killing or crippling him, sprang 
 to his feet. He found the crippled Indian 
 had crawled some distance towards them, 
 and had propped his broken back against 
 a k)g, and was trying to raise his gun to 
 shoot him, but in attempting to do which 
 he would fail forward, and had to push 
 against his gun to raise himself again. 
 Joe, seeing that he was safe, concluded 
 ho had fought long enough for healthy 
 exercise that day, and not liking to be 
 killed by a crippled Indian, he made for 
 the fort. He got in about night-fall, and 
 a hard-looking case he was — blood and 
 dirt from the crown of his head to the sole 
 of his feet, no horse, no hat, no gun — with 
 an account of the battle that some of his 
 comrades could scaice believe to be much 
 else than one of his big stories, in which 
 he would sometimes indulge. He told 
 them they must go and judge for them- 
 selves. Next morning a company was 
 made up to go to Joe's battle-ground.
 
 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOOSTON. 137 
 
 When they approached it, Joe's accusers 
 became more cont'.rmed, as there was no 
 appearance of dead Indians, and nothing 
 Joe had talked of bnt the dead horse. 
 They, however, found a trail, as if 
 something had been dragged away. On 
 pursuing it they found the big Indian, 
 at a little distance, beside a log, covered 
 up with leaves. Still pursuing the trail, 
 though not so plain, some hundred yards 
 further, they found the broken-backed 
 Indian, lying on his back, with his own 
 knife sticking up to the hilt in his body, 
 just below the breast-bone, evidently to 
 show that he had killed himself, and that 
 he had not come to his end bv the hand 
 of an enemv. Thev had a lono: search 
 before they found the knife with which 
 Joe killed the bio- Indian. Thev at last 
 found it forced down into the ground 
 below the surface, apparently by the 
 weight of a person's heel. This had been 
 done by the crippled Indian. The great 
 eilbrts he must have made, alone, in that 
 condition, show, among thousands of other
 
 138 ADVENTURES OF JOE LOGSTON. 
 
 instances, what Indians are capable of 
 under the greatest extremities. 
 
 Some years after the above took place, 
 peace with the Indians was restored. 
 That frontier, like many others, became 
 infested with a gang of outlaws, who 
 commenced stealing horses and commit- 
 ting various depredations; to counteract 
 which a company of regulators, as they 
 were called, was raised. In a contest be- 
 tween these and the depredators, Big Joe 
 Logston lost his life, — which would not 
 be highly esteemed in civil society, — but 
 in frontier settlements, which he always 
 occupied, where savages and beasts were 
 to be contested with for the right of the 
 soil, the use of such a man is very 
 conspicuous. Without such, the country 
 could never have been cleared of its 
 natural rudeness, so as to admit of the 
 more brilliant and ornamental exei ises 
 of arts, sciences, and civilization.
 
 ^e^^e 5fi|gl]3. 
 
 Jesse Hughs was one of the bold pio- 
 neers who acted a conspicuous part 
 
 against the Indians. lie was bred from 
 
 (139)
 
 140 ADVENTURES OF JESSE HUGHES. 
 
 infancy in the liotbed of Indian warfare, 
 and resided in Clarksburg. He was a 
 light-built, spare man, and remarkably 
 active on foot, and from his constant 
 practice of hunting, became one of the 
 best woodsmen and Indian hunters of his 
 day. The annexed anecdotes we derive 
 from the American Pioneer : 
 
 About the year 1790, the Indians one 
 night came secretly upon the settlement 
 at Chxrksburg, and stole some horses. 
 Next morning at daylight a party of 
 about twenty-five men started in pursuit, 
 and came upon the Indian trail, and 
 judged from appearances there Avere only 
 eight or ten of them. The captain and a 
 majority, in a hasty council, were for 
 pursuing the traiL Hughs opposed it, 
 and advised them to let him pilot them 
 by a near way to the Ohio, and inteicept 
 the Indians in their retreat. But this 
 they would not listen to. He, then 
 showed them the dansrer of followins; theii' 
 trail ; and that in that case they would be 
 waylaid, — that the Indians would choose
 
 ADVKiNTURES OF JESSE HUGHS. 141 
 
 a secure position, shoot two or tlirce 
 of them, and escape. The commander, 
 jealous of Hughs' influence, broke up the 
 council, by exchiiming: "All the men 
 may follow me — let the cowards go home!" 
 and dashed off at full speed. Hughs felt 
 the insult, but followed with the rest. 
 The result proved as he had predicted. 
 Two Indians in ambush on the top of a 
 cliff, fired and mortally wounded two of 
 the party in the ravine, and escaped. 
 Now convinced of their eri'or, they put 
 themselves under Hughs ; but on arriving 
 at the Ohio, thev saw that the savao'e^^ 
 had crossed it. Hughs then got some 
 satisfaction of the captain for his insult 
 to him. He told them he wanted to find 
 wdio the cowards were ; that if any would 
 go with him, or even one, he w^ould cross 
 the river in the pursuit. They all refused. 
 He then said he would go alone, and get 
 a scalp, or leave his own with them. 
 Alone he crossed the river, and the 
 next morning came upon their camp. 
 They were all absent hunting except one
 
 14:2 ADVENTUHES OF JESSE HUGHS. 
 
 Indian, who was left to guard the camp. 
 He, unsuspecting danger, was fiddling on 
 some dry bones, and singing, to pass the 
 time, when Hughs crept up and shot him; 
 and, with the poor fellow's scalp, returned 
 to his home some seventy miles distant, 
 through the wilderness. 
 
 At a time of great danger from the 
 incursions of the Indians in Virginia, when 
 the citizens of the neighborhood were in a 
 fort at Clarksburg, Hughs one morning 
 observed a lad very intently fixing his gun. 
 *'Jim," said he, "what are you doing that 
 for?" ''I am going to shoot a turkey that 
 I hear gobbling on the hillside," said Jim. 
 "I hear no turkey," said Hughs. "Listen," 
 says Jim; "there, didn't you hear it? 
 listen again." "Well," says Hughs, after 
 hearing it repeated, "I'll go and kill it." 
 "No you won't," says Jim, "it is my 
 turkey; I heard it first." "Well," says 
 Hughs, "but you know I am the best 
 marksman; and besides, I don't want the 
 turkey, you may have it." The lad then 
 agreed to let Hughs ^o and kill it for him.
 
 ADVENTUllES OF JESSE HUGHS. 143 
 
 Hughs went out of the fort on the side 
 that was farthest from the supposed 
 turkey, and taking along the river, went 
 up a ravine and came in on the rear; and, 
 as he expected, he espied an Indian 
 sitting on a chestnut stump, surrounded 
 by sprouts, gobbling, and watching to see 
 if any one would come fro hi the fort to 
 kill the turkey. Hughs crept up behind 
 him, and shot him, before the Indian 
 knew of his approach. He took off the 
 scalp and went into the fort, where Jim 
 was waiting for his prize. "There, now," 
 says Jim, "you have let the turkey go. I 
 would have killed it, if I had gone." 
 ":N'o," says Hughs, "I didn't let it go;" 
 and taking out the scalp, threw it down. 
 "There, take your turkey, Jim, I don't 
 want it." The lad was overcome, and 
 nearly fainted, to think of the certain 
 death he had escaped, purely by the keen 
 perception and good management of Mr. 
 Hughs.
 
 We presume there are but few, if any, 
 among our readers wlio are not familiar 
 with the exploit of Putnam, in riding his 
 horse down the steep declivity at Horse- 
 neck, in the endeavor to escape from the 
 British troops. It is "famed in story;" 
 has been illustrated time and again by 
 the pen and pencil ; has been dramatized, 
 and, in- every conceivable form, presented 
 to the public eye, until the merest school- 
 boy is as familiar with the incident 
 as with his alphabet. Yet it is by 
 no means comparable with feats of a 
 simihir character, pei'formed by men of 
 less notoriety, but of equal strong nerve 
 and desperate courage, which have not 
 attracted a titlie of the admiration and 
 eclat which have been vouchsafed to 
 Putnam^s exploit. 
 
 At the siege of Fort Henry, near 
 Wheeling, by a band of Indians, under 
 
 the infamous Simon Girty, Major Samuel 
 
 (144)
 

 
 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'cULLOCH. 147 
 
 McCiillocli perlbi'ined an act of daring — • 
 nay, desperate horsemanship — which has 
 seldom, if ever, been equaled by man or 
 beast, and before which the effort of the 
 Pomfret hero pales into insignificance. 
 Let us turn to the record. 
 
 Fort Henry, situated about a quarter 
 of a mile above Wheeling creek, on the 
 left bank of the Ohio river, was erected to 
 protect the settlers of the little village 
 of Wheeling, which, at the time of its 
 investment, consisted of about twenty-five 
 cabins. In the month of September, 
 1775, it was invested by about four 
 hundred warriors, on the approach of 
 whom the settlers had fled into it, leaving 
 their cabins and their contents to the 
 torch of the savages. The whole force 
 comprising the garrison consisted of forty- 
 two fightnrg men all told : but there were 
 among them men who knew the nse 
 of the rifle, and wdio were celebrated 
 throughout the borders as the implacable 
 enemies of the red man, and as the 
 best marksmen in the world. Of tliese
 
 148 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'cULLOCII. 
 
 however, more than one-half perished 
 in an ill-advised sortie before the siege 
 commenced, and when the fort was sur- 
 rounded by the foe, but sixteen men 
 remained to defend it against their over- 
 whelming numbers. — But their mothers, 
 wives and daughters were there, and 
 nerved the Spartan band to deeds of 
 heroism to which the records of the wars 
 of ancient and modern history present no 
 parallel. Here it was that Elizabeth 
 Z;ine passed through the fire of the whole 
 body of redskins in the effort to bring into 
 the fort the ammunition so necessary to 
 its defence; — here it was, also, that the 
 wives and daughters of its noble defenders 
 marched to a spring in point blank range 
 of tlie ambuscaded Indians, in going to 
 and fro, for the purpose of bringing water 
 for the garrison. 
 
 Messengers had been dispatched, at 
 the earliest alarm, to the neighboring 
 settlements for succor, and, in response to 
 the call. Captain Van Swearingen, with 
 fourteen men, arrived from Cross Greek,
 
 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'cULLOCH. 149 
 
 and fought his way into the fort without 
 the loss of a man. Soon afterwards, 
 a party of forty horsemen, led by the 
 brave and intrepid McCuUoch, were seen 
 approaching, and endeavoring to force 
 their way through the dense masses of 
 Indians which nearly surrounded the 
 station. Their friends within the fort 
 made every preparation to receive them, 
 by opening the gates, and oiganizing a 
 sortie to cover their attempt. After a 
 desperate hand-to-band confiict, in wliich 
 they made several of tlie Indians bite the 
 dust, they broke through the lines, and 
 entered the fort in triumph, without the 
 loss of an individual. All, except their 
 daring leader, succeeded in the effort. 
 He was cut off, and forced to fly in an 
 opposite direction. McCulloch was as 
 well known to the Indians as to the 
 whites for his deeds of ])rowess, and his 
 name was associated in their minds with 
 some of the most bloody fights in which 
 the wdiite and red men had contended. 
 To secure him alive, therefore, that they 
 
 13*
 
 150 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'cULLOCH. 
 
 might glut their vengeance upon him, 
 was the earnest desire of the Indians, and 
 to this end they put forth the most 
 superhuman exertions. There were very 
 few among their number who had not lost 
 a relative by the unerring aim and 
 skill of the fearless woodsman, and thev 
 cherished towards him an almost frenzied 
 hatred, w^hich could only be satisfied in 
 his tortures at the stake. 
 
 With such feelings and incentives, they 
 crowded around him as he dashed forward 
 in the rear of his men, and succeeded in 
 cutting him off from the gate. Finding 
 himself unable, after the most strenuous 
 exertions, to accomplish his entrance, and 
 seeing: the uselessness of a conflict with 
 such a force opposed to him, he suddenly 
 wheeled his horse and fled in the direction 
 of Wheeling Hill at his utmost speed. 
 A cloud of warriors started up at his 
 approach, and cut off his retreat in this 
 direction, driving him back upon another 
 party who blocked up the path behind ; 
 while a third closed in upon him on one
 
 
 
 
 
 />> mm ' ■ 
 
 
 f-,- <^-' ■■/ ,.i:! -,. 
 
 /'i-'V ■ i^ 
 
 
 m'cui.i.och's darixg leap. 
 
 (151)
 
 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'CULLOCH. 153 
 
 of the other sides of the square. The 
 fourth and open side was in the direction 
 of the brow of a precipitous ledge of 
 rocks, nearly one hundred and fifty feet 
 in height, at the foot of which flowed 
 the waters of Wheeling Creek. As he 
 momentarily halted and took a rapid 
 survey of the dangers which surrounded 
 him on all sides, he felt that his chance 
 was indeed a desperate one. The Indians 
 had not fired a shot, and he well knew 
 what this portended, as they could easily 
 have killed him had they chosen to do so. 
 He appreciated the feeling of hatred felt 
 towards him by the foe, and saw at a 
 glance the intention to take him alive if 
 possible, that his ashes might be ofi"ered 
 up as a sacrifice to the manes of their 
 friends slain by his hand. This was to 
 die a thousand deaths, in preference to 
 which he determined to run the risk of 
 being dashed in pieces ; and he struck his 
 heels against the sides of his steed, 
 who sprang forward toward the preci- 
 pice. The encircling warriors had rapidly
 
 154 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'CULLOCH. 
 
 lessened the space between them and 
 their intended victim, and, as they saw 
 him so completely within their toils, 
 raised a yell of triumph, little dreaming 
 of the fearful energy which was to 
 baffle their expectations. As they saw 
 him push his horse in the direction of the 
 precipice, which they had supposed an 
 unsurmountable obstacle to his escape, 
 they stood in wonder and amazement, 
 scarcely believing that it could be his 
 intention to attempt the awful leap, 
 which was, to all appearances, certain 
 death. McCulloch still bore his rifle, 
 which he had retained, in his right hand, 
 and carefully gathering up the bridle 
 in his left, he urged his noble animal 
 forward, encouraging hiui b}" his voice, 
 until thev reached the edfre of the bank, 
 when, dashing his heels against his sides, 
 they made the fearful leap into the 
 air. Down, down they went with fearful 
 velocity, without resistance or impediment 
 until one-half the space was passed over, 
 w^hen the hoi'se's feet struck the smooth
 
 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'cULLOCH. 155 
 
 precipitous face of the rock, and the 
 remainder of the distance was slid and 
 scrambled over until they reached the 
 bottom alive and uninjured. With a 
 shout which proclaimed his triumphant 
 success to his foe above him, McCuUoch 
 pushed his steed into the stream, and in a 
 few moments horse and rider were seen 
 surmounting the banks on the opposite 
 side. 
 
 No pursuit was attempted, nor was a 
 shot fired at the intrepid rider. His 
 enemies stood in awe-struck silence upon 
 the brow of the bank from whence he had 
 leaped, and, as he disappeared from their 
 view, they returned to the investment of 
 the fort. They did not long continue 
 their unavailing efforts, however, for its 
 capture ; the numerous additions it had 
 received to its garrison ; the fearlessness 
 exhibited in its defence, together with the 
 feat they had witnessed, disheartened 
 them, and they beat a hasty retreat on 
 the morning after the event I have 
 attempted to describe — not however, until
 
 156 ADVENTURES OF MAJOR m'cULLOCII. 
 
 they had reduced to ashes the cabins 
 without the stockade, and slaughtered 
 some three hundred head of cattle belong- 
 ing to the settlers.
 
 GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 14 
 
 (157)
 
 6ei]et[[l dcoi'Cjc ?\o^er^ 6h(i^l(e. 
 
 Among the pioneers of the West, not 
 one is more conspicuous for his public 
 servicer than General George Kogers 
 CI ark t. The following specimens of his 
 actions form but a small portion of what 
 he did for the West. We quote now from 
 the Early History of Western Pennsyl^ 
 vania and of the West. 
 
 (159)
 
 160 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 One of the most extraordinary expedi- 
 tions, daring the war of the revolution, 
 was that of Colonel Rogers Clarke, in 
 1778, against Kaskaskia and Vincennes, 
 then in possession of the British. These 
 places supplied the Indians with muni- 
 tions war, and enabled them to harass 
 the frontier settlements of Virgina, now 
 the State of Kentucky. The capture of 
 these posts was deemed so important, that 
 the Legislature of Virginia voted to raise 
 a regiment of State troops for the purpose. 
 
 The' command was given to Colonel 
 Clarke, who planned the expedition, and 
 possessed great courage, uncommon energy 
 of character and capacity for Indian war- 
 fare. He was a man of extraordinary 
 talents, and possessed a military genius, 
 which enabled him to plan with consum- 
 mate wisdom, and to execute his designs 
 with decision and promptitude. 
 
 Having visited the western settlements 
 the preceding year, he was satisfied, that 
 in order to cuib tlie Indians efiectuall}^, it 
 was necessary to strike at the powerful,
 
 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLAUKI-. 161 
 
 tlioui>;li distant allies, bv whom tliev were 
 encouraged and supported. tlis great 
 mind readily comprehended the situation 
 of the country; he made himself ac- 
 quainted with the topography of the 
 whole region, as far as it was then known ; 
 with the localities of the enemy's posts, 
 and the strength of their forces. 
 
 His representations induced the Legis- 
 lature of Virginia to enter with vigor into 
 his plan, and such was the confidence he 
 inspired into the public mind, that a regi- 
 ment consisting of nearly three hundred 
 men, were raised without delay, and placed 
 under his command. He was duly autlio- 
 rized to act against the British posts 
 on the Mississippi and the Wabash ; yet 
 the object of the expedition was kept a 
 profound secret. 
 
 With this force, he left Virginia, crossed 
 the mountains to the Monongahela, em- 
 barked in boats^ and descended to the Falls 
 of the Ohio, where he was joined by some 
 volunteers from Kentucky, then western 
 
 Virginia. At this place he left thir!cen 
 
 l-i*
 
 162 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 fanjilies, who had descended the Ohio 
 with him for the purpose of making a x)er- 
 
 i '>«S- 
 
 
 THE MARCH THROUGH THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 manent settlement in that country. No 
 Buch settlement had yet been made at the 
 Falls, where Louisville now stands ; and 
 so exposed w^as the situation, that they
 
 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 163 
 
 built their lirst houses on the island in 
 the river. 
 
 Having halted a few days to refresh his 
 men, he proceeded down the Ohio, to a 
 [)oint about sixty miles a.bove its mouth, 
 where he landed and hid his boats to pre- 
 vent their discovery by the Indians. He 
 was now distant from Kaskaskia, about 
 one hundred and thirty miles, and the in- 
 tervening country must have been, at that 
 period when in a state of nature, almost 
 impassable. His route led through a low, 
 flat region, intersected by numerous 
 streams and ponds of water, and entii'ely 
 covered with a most luxuriant vegetation, 
 which must have greatly impeded the 
 nuirch of the troops. 
 
 Through this dreary region, the intrepid 
 leader marched on foot, at the head of his 
 galhmt band, with his rifle on his shoulder, 
 and his provisions upcm his back. After 
 wading through ponds, which could not 
 be avoided, crossing creeks by such 
 methods as could hastily be adopted, and 
 sustaining two days march after tlie pro-
 
 164 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 viisions had been exhausted, he arrived in 
 the night before the town of Kaskaskia 
 Having halted and formed his regiment, 
 he consulted liis officers, and made a brief 
 speech to his men, containing only tiie 
 pithy sentiment, that " the town was to 
 be taken at all events," when he led them 
 direct to the attack. 
 
 The town contained about two hundred 
 and fifty houses, and was sufficiently forti- 
 fied to have resisted a much more formid- 
 able army, had the garrison been apprised 
 of its approach. But the distance from 
 any known foe, having excluded all appre- 
 hension of danger, confidence superceded 
 all precautions against surprise. The 
 approaches of Colonel Clarke had been so 
 silent, and rapid, that the assault gave 
 the first intelligence of his arrival. Not a 
 scattering hunter had espied his march ; 
 not a roving Indian had seen his trail ; 
 the watchman was sleeping in fancied 
 security ; the inhabitants of the town 
 were resting from their labors, and the 
 garrison of the fort was not alarmed, until
 
 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 165 
 
 the citadel was taken, and the flag of stars 
 and stripes was proudly waving upon its 
 battlements. 
 
 The astonishment and moi'tification of 
 tlie vanquished, were equal to their negli- 
 gence. Colonel Clarke, required the in- 
 habitants to take the oath of allegiance to 
 the United States, and the fort at Kaskas- 
 kia, became his head-quarters. The right 
 of property was not molested, and no pil- 
 lage was permitted or attempted ; on the 
 contrary the humane and friendly treat- 
 ment of the people, and the security 
 afforded to their persons and property 
 effected a speedy reconciliation to tlie 
 new order of tilings. Tlie utmost care 
 was taken that none should escape to 
 spread the news, while detachments were 
 sent out that captured the open settle- 
 ments and villages in the vicinity, with- 
 out the least resistance. In the mean- 
 time, a portion of the army mounted on 
 the horses of the country, left Kaskaskia 
 for the purpose of taking by surprise the 
 villages higher up the Mississippi. Tliese
 
 166 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 all fell into the hands of the invaders by 
 an unresisted and eas}^ conquest. Thus 
 fell the power of Great Britain, upon the 
 banks of the Mississippi; and this fertile 
 and extensive valley, which will one day 
 be the centre of population of this great 
 Eepublic passed from under her authority 
 forever. 
 
 The success of this expedition had the 
 happiest etTect upon the Indians. Struck 
 with fear and astonishment on seeins; a 
 victorious enemv in the countrv, without 
 knowino' vrhence, or how thev came, thev 
 fled to their hiding places in the wilder- 
 ness, or to their distant towns for safety , 
 or else repaired to Yincennes, a post on 
 the Wabash, still in the possession of the 
 British, for protection. 
 
 This bold and brilliant military achieve- 
 ment of Colonel Clarke, was succeeded bv 
 one still bolder, more dithcult, and quite 
 as successful. Kaskaskia was not very 
 strongly fortified; and no attack in so 
 remote a spot could reasonably be 
 apprehended. But A'incennes, situated
 
 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE'. 167 
 
 in nearly a direct line between Kaskaskia 
 and the falls of the Ohio, distant one 
 hundred and sixty miles from the former 
 place and two hundred miles from the 
 latter, had been considered within the 
 reach of an attack from the American 
 settlements, and was strongh fortihed. 
 
 It was well garrisoned with British 
 troops, commanded by Governor Hamil- 
 ton, in person, an ex])erienced officer, who 
 was quickly apprized of the capture of 
 the forts on the Mississippi, in his rear, 
 and prepared to expect an attack from 
 Colonel Clarke, at the head of his victor- 
 ious troops. His regular force, was 
 greatly superior to that of the American 
 commander, both in numbers and equip- 
 ment and in addition he had under his 
 command six hundred Indian warriors. 
 
 With this force Governor Hamilton 
 determined to retake Kaskaskin, and 
 regain the posts on the ^lississippi. But 
 Colonel Clarke sent a party to reconnoitre 
 Governor Hamilton's i)ositiun, and make 
 observations. The intelligence received
 
 ]Q6 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARES. 
 
 AN INDIAN CHIKP. 
 
 from the detachment on its return deter- 
 mined him immediately to attempt to 
 take Vincennes, as the best means of
 
 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 169 
 
 defending himself, notwithstanding its 
 strength and the force stationed for its 
 defence. In the meantime, he took mea- 
 sures tc strengthen the defences of Kas- 
 kaskia, and resolved to maintain the 
 possession at all hazards. 
 
 While he was digesting the plan of his 
 future operations, he received undoubted 
 mformation, from a Spanish merchant, 
 who had recently left Yincennes, that 
 Governor Hamilton, reposing on the secu- 
 rity which the superiority of his force 
 afforded, contemplated leisurely, the exe- 
 cution of his projects. These were, in the 
 first place, to retake Kaskaskia ; in the 
 next, to cut off the inhabitants residins; 
 upon the Ohio, up to fort Pitt; after 
 which he intended to desolate the remain- 
 ing frontiers of Yirgina. 
 
 In addition to these projects, arrange- 
 ments were made to destroy the frontier 
 settlements of New York and Peniisvl- 
 vania, by a combined force of British 
 troops, and Indians of the northern tribes. 
 
 He also learned from the same source. 
 
 16
 
 170 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 that the approach of winter, had induced 
 a postponement of the campaign till the 
 opening of the next spring — and that in 
 the meantime, the Governor, to keep his 
 Indian auxiliaries employed, had sent 
 them to obstruct the passage of the Ohio, 
 and to harass the frontiers of Western 
 Virginia, while the regular soldiers Avere 
 kept in garrison under his immediate 
 command. 
 
 Colonel Clarke, at once perceived that 
 his own situation was most critical. He 
 was too remote from the Atlantic border, 
 to receive anv assistance from thai 
 quarter; and the western settlements 
 were invaded by the savages. He knew 
 that his force was too weak, to maintain 
 his present position against the British 
 army under Governor Hamilton, sup- 
 ported by the whole body of Indian 
 warriors, from the Lakes to the Missis- 
 sippi, by whom he was to be attacked on 
 the return of spring. 
 
 In this emergency what was to be done? 
 The Indians were now ravaging the Iron
 
 EXPKDITION OF GENERAL CLAPxEE. 171 
 
 tiers, and Governor Hamilton and the 
 British troops were alone at Yincennes. 
 He instantly determined to capture Yin- 
 cennes or perish in the attempt. The 
 resolve had been made, — the blow was 
 now to be struck — and although the winter 
 had now set in, no time was to be lost 
 as the Indians might return, and the 
 British commander might awake from his 
 dream of securitv. 
 
 He then fitted up a small galley which 
 lay in the Mississippi for defensive pur- 
 poses, and put on board a large quantity 
 of provisiiuis. This vessel was armed 
 with a few pieces of cannon, manned by a 
 company of soldiers, and the captain 
 ordered to [)roceed down the river, to the 
 mouth of the Ohio, and then to ascend it 
 to the mouth of the Wabash. Here he 
 was directed to disregard every difficulty, 
 and force his vessel up that c-tream, and 
 take station a few miles below Yincennes; 
 and then to permit nothing to pass him. 
 
 Having completed his ai'rangements 
 and disregarding the inclemency of winte-r
 
 172 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 he commenced his march, at the head of 
 only one hundred and thirty men, to sur- 
 prise and capture Yincennes. To effect 
 this, it was necessary to pass one liundred 
 and sixty miles through a trackless unin- 
 habited country, whose fertile soil and 
 light spongy loain, saturated with water, 
 afforded no firm footing to the steps of the 
 soldiery ; and to cross the Kaskaskia, the 
 Little Wabash, the Embarras, and the 
 Great Wabash rivers, besides a number 
 of their tributaiies, all of which were 
 swollen, and margined by wide belts of 
 inundated land. But the undaunted 
 leader pressed on, — without wagons, with- 
 out tents, — with only such provisions and 
 ammunition as could be carried on the 
 backs of a few pack horses, and the 
 shoulders of the men, — toiling by day 
 through mud and water, and sleeping at 
 night upon the wet ground. 
 
 Upon reaching the waters of the Great 
 Wabash, our adventurous troops beheld 
 before them an obstacle wh-ch must have 
 daunted the hearts of warriors, less leso-
 
 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 173 
 
 lutely determined tliaii themselves, upon 
 the successful achievement of their enter- 
 prise. On the eastern bank of the river 
 stood the British fort, on a high shore, 
 swept by the foaming current of a great 
 river. On the western side was a tract ot 
 low alluvial land, five miles in width, 
 entirely inundated. The whole expanse 
 of water to be crossed, was nearly six 
 miles in width — first, the marshy flats, in 
 whose treacherous quick-sands, at this 
 day, the horse has been seen to tsink under 
 his rider, and become instantlv buried in 
 the mire ; at that time covered with water 
 too deep in some places to be forded, and 
 too shallow in others to admit of naviga- 
 tion by boats, and impeded throughout by 
 growing timber, floating logs, or tangled 
 brushwood, — and then, the swift, powerful 
 current of the river. 
 
 Colonel Clarke was laboriously employed 
 for sixteen days, in eflecting the maich 
 from Kaskaskia to Yincennes; five of 
 which were spent in passing the wilderness 
 of water just described, through which he 
 
 15*
 
 174 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 meandered in siicli a manner, as to con- 
 ceal his forces from the enemy, by avoid- 
 ing the prairie, and keeping as nuich as 
 possible under cover of the timber— wad- 
 ing, sometimes breast-deep, sometimes 
 proceeding upon rafts and canoes, and at 
 last, crossino; the river in the nis^ht, and 
 presenting himself suddenly before the 
 town, which was completely surprised. 
 
 Here the American comander performed 
 a manoeuvre, which shows that he was 
 prudent as well as daring ; that while he 
 had the bravery and courage to attempt 
 the most desperate enterprises, he was 
 fertile in expedients, and cautious in 
 availing himself of any incidental advan- 
 tage which might be presented. As he 
 approached the town, over the wide beau- 
 tiful prairie on which it stands, and at 
 the moment when his troops were dis- 
 covered by tlie enemy, he found himself 
 near a small circular eminence, which 
 concealed a |)art of his force from the 
 observation of the foe. 
 
 Under t]iis cover he counter-marched
 
 i|l,jiff!!)^pM|;^||!||| 
 
 'r-.><rt:'^,T^'
 
 EXPEDITION OF GExNERAL CLARKE. 177 
 
 his coliinm in so skilful a manner, that 
 the leading files, which had been seen 
 from the town, were transferred, undis- 
 covered to the rear, and made to pass 
 again and again in sight of the enemy, 
 until all his men had been displayed 
 several times, and his little detachment of 
 jaded troops was made to assume the 
 appearance of a long column, greatly 
 superior in number to its actual force. 
 He then promptly summoned the garrison 
 to surrender. Governor Hamilton after a 
 brief defence struck his flag, and the gal- 
 lant Clacke found himself master of an 
 important fortified post, whose garrison, 
 now prisoners of war, consisted of a well 
 appointed body of British soldiers, twice 
 as numerous as his own followers. 
 
 These brilliant exploits had an import- 
 ant bearing upon the interests of the West, 
 both direct and consequential. They 
 gave for the moment safety and repose to 
 the harassed inhabitants of the border 
 settlements, and struck with terror the 
 whole savage population of the wide
 
 178 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 
 
 region througli whicli he passed. They 
 deranged an extensive plan of operation 
 on the part of the enemy, the design 
 of which was to drive every wliite in- 
 habitant out of the valley of the Ohio, and 
 the Mississippi, and destroy their dwel- 
 lings, by pouring in a combined Indian 
 force along the whole line of the frontier 
 They detached many tribes from the 
 British interest, who had long acted 
 under the control of that power. — They 
 hastened, if they did not contribute to 
 produce, the most important event con- 
 nected with the history of the West, — the 
 acquisition of Louisiana. The limits of 
 the United States were now extended to 
 the Mississippi, never more to be circum- 
 scribed; and Yirginia, claiming the con- 
 quered country, in right of her charter, as 
 well as of the conquest by her own arms, 
 proceeded at once to incorporate it into a 
 new county, which was called Illinois. 
 
 One of the direct consequences of these 
 achievements, was the founding of Louis- 
 ville, in the State of Kentucky. The
 
 EXPEDITION OF GENERAL CLARKE. 179 
 
 families which had been left by Colonel 
 Clarke at the Falls of the Ohio, when on 
 his way to Kaskaskia, dared not remove 
 fi'om the island on which they landed, so 
 long as Vincennes was occupied by British 
 troops, and their savage allies. The con- 
 (piest of this place was, therefore, to them 
 the mandate of liberation from their insu- 
 hir position, and an invitation to remove 
 to the Kentucky shore. Hence the origin 
 of the settlement on the site of Louisville. 
 Colonel Clarke afterwards established his 
 head- quarters here.
 
 ^*SSi*feJ'^B?5= 
 
 Of the Whetzels there were four 
 
 brothers. Their names were Martin, 
 
 Lewis, Jacob, and John. Their father 
 
 was a German, and was one of the tirst 
 
 white men who settled near AYlieeling, in 
 
 Yirginia. Old Mr. Whe:.zel, although it 
 (180)
 
 I .Vi rill})''.'
 
 THE WHETZELS. 183 
 
 vras in the hottest time of the Indian war, 
 was so rash as to build a cabin some dis- 
 tance from the fort, and move his family 
 into it. How long he lived there before 
 the fatal tragedy occurred, is not reuiem- 
 bered. One day, in the midst of summer, 
 (Martin, his eldest son, being out hunting, 
 and John having been sent on some 
 errand to the fort,) a nuuierous party of 
 Indians surrounded the house, rushed in, 
 and killed, tomahawked and scalped old 
 Mr. Whetzel, his wife, and all his small 
 children. Lewis and Jacob, being smart, 
 active boys were spared, and made 
 prisoners. When the pirates gave Caesar 
 his liberty for a small ransom, they little 
 knew the value of their prisoner. Could 
 the Indians have had a prescience of the 
 sad havoc these two youths would have 
 made on their race, instead of carrying 
 them off prisoners they would have carried 
 their scalps to their towns. It is happy for 
 us that God has veiled from us the future. 
 The following account of the escape of 
 the AYhetzels from captivity, is takeo
 
 J 84 THE WHETZELS 
 
 from "Doddridge's IS^tes:" "When 
 about thirteen years of age, Lewis was 
 taken prisoner by the Indians, together 
 with his brother Jacob, about eleven 
 years old. Before he was taken he 
 received a slight wound in the breast from 
 a bullet, which carried off a small piece of 
 the bi-east-bone. The second night after 
 they were taken, the Indians encamped at 
 the Big Lick, twenty miles from the river 
 on the waters of McMahon's Creek. The 
 boy was not confined. After the Indians 
 had fallen asleep, Lewis whispered to his 
 brother Jacob that he must get up and go 
 back home with him. When thev had 
 got about one hundred yards from the 
 camp, they sat down on a log. 'Well,' 
 said Lewis, 'we can't go home bare- 
 footed ; I will go back and get a pair of 
 moccasons for each of us ;' and accord- 
 ingly did so, and returned. After sitting 
 a little hmger, 'Now, said he, 'I will go 
 back and get father a gun, and then we 
 will start.' This was effected. They had 
 not travelled far on the trail by whicb
 
 i..,^' 
 
 ^' 
 
 fmmyi 
 
 
 n:l^M^^
 
 THE WHETZELS. 187 
 
 they came before they heard the Indians 
 after them. It was a moonlight night. 
 When the Indians came pretty nigh them 
 they stepped aside into the bushes, and 
 let them pass ; then fell into the rear and 
 travelled on. On the return of tlie 
 Indians they did the same. — They were 
 then pursued by two Indians on horse- 
 back, whom they dodged in the same way. 
 The next day they reached Wheeling in 
 safety, crossing the river on a raft of their 
 own making. By this time LeA\'is had 
 become almost spent from his wound." 
 
 After their return from captivity, and 
 these lads began to grow to be men, (and 
 the boys on the frontier, at a very early 
 age, at least as soon as they could handle 
 a gun, considered themselves men,) the}' 
 took a solemn oath that they would never 
 make peace nor truce with the Indians, 
 whilst they had strength to wield a toma- 
 hawk, or sight to draw a bead ; and they 
 were as true to their oaths as was the 
 illustrious and far-famed hero of Carthage. 
 "These warriors esteemed the dutv o^
 
 188 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 revenge as the most precious and sacred 
 portion of their inheritance." The blood 
 of their murdered and mangled parents, 
 and infant brothers and sisters, was 
 always present to their minds, and strung 
 their sinews to activity, and whetted their 
 souls to the highest pitch of resolution to 
 bathe their hands in the blood of their 
 enemies. 
 
 "The following narrative goes to show 
 how much may be effected, by the skill, 
 bravery, and physical activity of a single 
 individual, in the partizan warfare carried 
 on against the Indians, on the western 
 frontier. Lewis Whetzers education, like 
 that of his cotemporaries, was that of the 
 hunter and warrior. When a boy, he 
 adopted the practice of loading and firing 
 his rifle as he ran. This was a means of 
 making him so destructive to the Indians 
 afterwards. 
 
 " In the year 1783, after Crawford's 
 defeat, Lew^is Whetzel went with Thomas 
 Mills, who had been in the campaign, to 
 get a horse which lie had left near the
 
 THE WIIETZELS. 189 
 
 place where St. Clairsville now stands. 
 At the Indian Spring, two miles above 
 St. Clairsville, on the Wheeling road, they 
 were met b}^ about forty Indians, who 
 were in pursuit of the stragglers from the 
 campaign. 
 
 " The Indians and the white men dis- 
 covered each other about the same time. 
 Lewis fired first; and killed an Indian; 
 the fire from the Indians wounded Mr 
 Mills, and he was soon overtaken and 
 killed. Four of the Indians then singled 
 out, dropped their guns, and pursued 
 Whetzel. Whetzel loaded his rifle as he 
 ran. 
 
 "After running about half a mile, one 
 of the Indians having got within eight or 
 ten steps of him, Whetzel wheeled round 
 and shot him down, ran on, and loaded as 
 before. — After going about three-quarters 
 of a mile further, a second Indian came 
 so close to him, that when he turned to 
 fire, the Indian cauglit the muzzle of his 
 gun, and as he expressed it, he and the 
 Indian had a severe wringing for it ; he
 
 190 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 succeeded, however, in bringing the 
 muzzle to the Indian's breast, and killed 
 him on the spot. 
 
 " By this time he, as well as the Indians, 
 were prett,y well tired ; the pursuit was 
 C(mtinued by the two remaining Indians. 
 Whetzel, as before, loaded his gun, and 
 stopped several times during the latter 
 chase. — When he did so the Indians treed 
 themselves. 
 
 " After going something more than a 
 mile, Whetzel took the advantage of a 
 little open piece of ground, over which the 
 Indians were passing, a short distance 
 behind him to make a sudden stop for 
 the purpose of shooting the foremost, who 
 got behind a little sapling, which was 
 too small to cover his body. Whetzel 
 shot, and broke his thigh ; the wound, in 
 the issue, proved fatal. 
 
 "The last man of the Indians then gave 
 a little yell, and said, ' No catch dat man 
 — gun always loaded,' and gave up the 
 chase ; glad, no doubt, to get off with his 
 life. This was a frightful and well man-
 
 THE WHETZELS. 191 
 
 aged fight. It is said that Lewis Wlietzel, 
 in the course of the Indian wars in this 
 part of the country, (Wheeling,) killed 
 twenty-seven Indians; besides a number 
 more along the frontier settlements of 
 Kentucky."
 
 IqHio dijl]ei:el. 
 
 In the year 1780, an expedition was 
 set on foot, to jDroceed against and destroy 
 the Indian towns situated on the Coshlioc- 
 ton, a branch of the Muskingum river. 
 The place of rendezvous for the troo^is 
 was AYlieeling. The command uf the 
 expedition was conferred on Colonel Broad- 
 head, a soldier of some distinction in those 
 days. Martin Wlietzel was a volunteer in 
 this campaign. The officers of the frontier 
 armies were only nominally such ; Qvery 
 
 soUlier acted as seemed right in hu <^^ 
 (192)
 
 THE WHETZELS. 193 
 
 judgment. This little army, of four hun- 
 dred men went forward rapidly, in order 
 to fall upon the Indian towns by surprise. 
 They were secretly and actiyely pushed 
 forward, till they surrounded one of their 
 towns befoie the enemy was apprised of 
 their danger. " Every man, woman and 
 child were made prisoners, without the 
 firino; of a 2:un." 
 
 " Among the prisoners were sixteen 
 warriors. A little after dark a council 
 of war was held, to determine on the fate 
 of the wai'riors in custody. They were 
 doomed to death, and by the order of the 
 commander were bound, taken a little dis- 
 tance below the town, and dispatched 
 with tomahawks and spears, and then 
 scalped." In this work of death, ]\Iartin 
 Whetzel, with a kind of fiendish pleasure, 
 sunk his tomahawk into the heads uf the 
 unresisting Indians. 
 
 "Earlv the next mornino:, an Indian 
 presented himself on the opposite bank 
 of the river and asked for the ' Biji; Cap- 
 tain.' Colonel Broadhead presented him- 
 
 17
 
 194 THE WIIETZELS. 
 
 self, and asked the Indian what he 
 wanted ? To which he replied, * I want 
 peace.' ' Send over some of your chiefs,' 
 said Broadhead. ' May be you kill,' said 
 the Indian. He was answered, 'They 
 shall not be killed.' One of the chiefs, a 
 well-looking man, came over the river, 
 and entered into conversation with the 
 commander in the street ; but while 
 engaged in conversation, Martin Whetzel 
 came up behind him with a tomahawk 
 concealed in the bosom of his hunting- 
 shirt, and struck him on tlie back of the 
 head. The poor Indian fell, and imme- 
 diately expired." This act of perndy and 
 reckless revenge, the commander had no 
 power, if he had the disposition, to punish," 
 as probably two-thirds of the army ap- 
 proved the vindictive deed. 
 
 " The next day the army commenced 
 its retreat from Coshocton. Colonel 
 Broadhead committed the prisoners to the 
 militia. They were about twenty in num- 
 ber. — After they had marched about half 
 a mile, the men commenced killing them."
 
 INDIAN PRISONER. 
 
 [19ni
 
 THE WHETZET.S. 197 
 
 Martin Whetzel's tomahawk upon this 
 occasion was crimsoned with the blood 
 and brains of the unresisting Indians. 
 Such was the indomitable s[drit of 
 revenge for the murder of his parents and 
 infant brothers and sisters, that no phice 
 nor circumstance was sacred enough to 
 preserve the life of an Indian, when 
 within his vindictive grasp. " In a short 
 time they were all dispatched, except a 
 few women and children, who wei"e spared 
 and taken to Fort Pitt, and after some 
 time exchanged for an equal number 
 of their prisoners." 
 
 Some years after the foregoing action 
 took place, Martin Whetzel was surprised 
 and taken prisoner by the Indians, and 
 remained with them a considerable length 
 of time ; till, by his cheerful disposition, 
 and apparent satisfaction with their mode 
 and manner of life, he disarmed their sus- 
 picion, acquired their confidence, and was 
 adopted into one of their families. How 
 much his duplicity overreached the 
 
 credulity of those sons of the forest, the 
 
 17*
 
 198 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 sequel will show. He was free, he liunted 
 around the town, returned, danced, and 
 frolicked with the young Indians, and 
 appeared perfectly satisfied with his 
 change of life. 
 
 But all this time, although he showed 
 a cheerful face, his heart was brooding on 
 an escape, which he wished to render 
 memorable by some tragic act of revenge 
 upon his confiding enemies. In the fall 
 of the year, Martin and tliree Indians set 
 ofi" to make a fall hunt. They pitched 
 their camp near the head of Sandusky 
 river. When the hunt commenced, he 
 was verv careful to return first in the 
 evening to the camp, prepare wood for the 
 night, and do all other little ofiices of 
 camp duty to render them comfortable. 
 By this means he lulled any lurking 
 suspicion which they might entertain 
 towards him. 
 
 While hunting one evening, some dis- 
 tance from the camp, he came across 
 one of his Indian camp- mates. The 
 Indian not L)(3ing aware that revenge
 
 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 199 
 
 was rampant in "Whetzel's heart, was not 
 the least alarmed at the approach of his 
 friend, the white man. Martin watched 
 
 INDIAN WARRIOR. 
 
 for a favorable moment, and as the 
 Indian's attention was called in a different 
 direction, he shot him down, scalped him.
 
 200 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 and threw his body into a deep hole, 
 which had been made by a hirge tree 
 torn np by the roots, and covered his body 
 with h)gs and brush, over which he 
 Btrewed leaves to conceal the body. He 
 then hurried to the camp to prepare, as 
 usnal, wood for the night. 
 
 When niglit came, one of the Indians 
 was missing, and Martin expressed great 
 concern on account of the absence of their 
 comrade. The other Indians did not 
 appear to be the least concerned at the 
 absence of their companion; they all 
 alleged that he might have taken a large 
 circle, looking for new hunting ground, or 
 that he might have pursued some wounded 
 game till it was too late to return to camp. 
 
 In this mood tlie subject, was dismissed 
 for the night; they ate their supper, and 
 lay down to sleep. Martin's mind was so 
 full of the thoughts of home, and of taking 
 signal vengeance on his enemies, that he 
 could not sleep; he had gone too far to 
 retreat, and whatever he did mnst bo done 
 quickly.
 
 THE WHETZELS. 201 
 
 Beins: now determined to eflfect his 
 escape at all hazards, the question lie 
 had to decide was, whether he should 
 make an attack on the two sleeping In- 
 dians, or watch for a favoral)le opportu- 
 nity of dispatching them one at a time. 
 The latter plan appeared to him to be less 
 subject to risk or failure. 
 
 The next morning he prepared to put 
 his determination into execution. — When 
 the two Indians set out on their hunt the 
 next morning, he determined to follow one 
 of them (like a true hunting dog on a slow 
 trail,) till a fair opportunity should pre- 
 sent itself of dispatching him without 
 alarming his fellow. He cautiously pur- 
 sued him till near evening, when he 
 openly walked up to him and commenced 
 a conversation about their day's hunt. 
 
 The Indian beiiig completely off his 
 guard, suspecting no danger, Martin 
 watched for a favorable moment when the 
 Indian's attention was drawn to a difler- 
 ent direction, and with one sweep of his 
 venfreful tomahawk laid him dead on the
 
 202 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 ground, scalped him, tumbled liis body into 
 a sink-hole, and covered it with brush and 
 logs; and then made his way for the 
 camp, with a firm determination of closing 
 the bloody tragedy by killing the third 
 Indian. He went out, and composedly 
 waited at the camp for the return of the 
 Indian. 
 
 About sunset he saw him coming with 
 a load of game that he had killed swung 
 on his back. Martin went forward under 
 the pretence of aiding to disencumber him 
 of his h)ad. When the Indian stooped 
 down to be detached of his load, Martin 
 with one fell swoop of his tomahawk, laid 
 him in death's eternal sleep. Being now 
 in no danger of ])ursuit, he leisurely 
 packed up what plunder he could con- 
 veniently carry with him, and made his 
 way foi' the white settlements, where he 
 safely arrived with the three Indian 
 scalps, after an absence of nearly a year. 
 
 The frontier men of that day could not 
 anticipate any end to the Indian war, till 
 one of the parties should be exterminated.
 
 THE WIIETZELS. 203 
 
 Martin Wlietzel's conduct upon this, as 
 well as on every similar occasion, met with 
 the decided approbation of his country- 
 men. Successful military achievements, 
 which displayed unusual boldness and 
 intrepidity in the execution, not only met 
 the approbation of the men, but also, what 
 was more grateful and soul-cheering to the 
 soldier's feelings after returning from a 
 successful Indian tour, he was sure of 
 receiving the animating smiles of the fair 
 sex. The soldier's arm was considered 
 the life-guard of the country, and such 
 indeed were the Whetzel's in an eminent 
 degree.
 
 In the year 1791 or '92 the Indians 
 having made frequent incursions into the 
 settlements, along the river Ohio, between 
 Wheeling and the Mingo Bottom, some- 
 times killing or capturing wnole families; 
 (204)
 
 THE WIIETZELS. 205 
 
 at other times stealing all the horses 
 belonging to a station or fort, a company 
 consisting of seven men, rendezvoused at 
 a place called the Beech Bottom, on the 
 Ohio river, a few miles below where 
 Wellsburg has been erected. 
 
 This company were John Whetzel, 
 William M'CiiUoogh, John Hough, Thom;is 
 Biggs, Joseph Hedges, Kinzie Diokerson 
 and a Mr. Linn. Their avowed object 
 was to go to the Indian town to steal 
 horses. This was then considered a legal, 
 honorable business, as we were then at 
 open war with the Indians. It would 
 only be retaliating upon them in their 
 own way. 
 
 These seven men were all trained to 
 Indian warfare, and a life in the woods, 
 from their youth. Perhaps the western 
 frontier at no time could furnish seven 
 men whose souls were better fitted, and 
 whose nerves and sinews Avere better 
 strung to perform any enterprise which 
 required resolution and firmness. 
 
 They crossed the Ohio, and proceeded 
 
 18
 
 206 THE WIIETZELS. 
 
 with cautious steps, and vigilant glances 
 on their Avay through the cheerless, dark, 
 almost impenetrable forest, in the Indian 
 country, till thev came to an Indian town, 
 near where the head waters of the San- 
 dusky and Muskingum rivers interlock. 
 Here thev made a line haul, and set off 
 homeward with about fifteen horses. They 
 travelled rapidly, only making a short 
 halt, to let their horses graze, and breathe 
 a short time to recruit their strength and 
 activity 
 
 In the evening of the second day of 
 their rai)id retreat, they arrived at Wells 
 Creek, not far from where the town of 
 Cambridge has been since erected. Here 
 Mr. Linn Avas taken violently sick, and 
 they must stop their nuirch, or leave him 
 alone to perish in the dark and lonely 
 woods. Our frontier men, notwithstand- 
 ing their rougli and unpolished manners, 
 had too much of mv Uncle Toby's " svm- 
 pathy for suffering humanity," to forsake 
 a comrade in distress. They halted, and 
 l)laced sentinels on their back trail, who
 
 THE WHETZELS. 207 
 
 remained there till late in the night, Avith- 
 out seeino; any sians of beino; pursued. 
 
 The sentinels on the back trail returned 
 to the camp, Mr. Linn still lying in excru- 
 ciating pain. All the simple remedies in 
 their power were administered to the sick 
 man, without producing any effect. Being 
 late in tlie night, they all lay down to 
 rest, except one who was placed as guard. 
 Their camp was on the bank of a small 
 branch. 
 
 Just before day-break, the guard took a 
 small bucket, and dipped some water out 
 of the stream ; on cariynng it to the fire 
 he discovered the water to be muddy. 
 The muddy water waked his suspicion 
 that the enemy might be approaching 
 them, and were walking down the stream 
 as their footsteps would be noiseless in the 
 M'ater. He waked his companions, and 
 communicated his suspicion. They arose, 
 examined the branch a little distance, and 
 listened attentively for some time; but 
 neither saw nor heard anything, and then 
 conclurled it must have been racoons, or
 
 208 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 some other animals, paddling in the 
 stream. 
 
 After this conclusion the company all 
 lay down to rest, except the sentinel, who 
 was stationed just outside of the light. 
 Happily for them the fire had burned 
 down, and only a few coals afforded a dim 
 light to point out where they lay. The 
 enemy had come silently down the creek, 
 as the sentinel suspected, to within ten 
 or twelve feet of the place where they lay, 
 and fired several guns over the bank. 
 Mr. Linn, the sick man, was lying with 
 his side towards the bank, and received 
 nearly all the balls which were at first 
 fired. The Indians then, with tremen- 
 dous yells, mounted the bank with loaded 
 rifles, war-clubs, and tomahawks, rushed 
 upon our men, who fled barefooted, and 
 without arms. 
 
 Mr. Linn, Thomas Biggs, and Joseph 
 Hedges were killed in and near the camp. 
 William M'Ciillough had run but a short 
 distance when he was fired at by the 
 enemy. At the instant the firing was
 
 IHK FINDING OF TDK DKAD. 
 
 18* 
 
 (209)
 
 THE WIIETZELS. 211 
 
 given, he jumped into a quagmire and fell ; 
 the Indians supposing that they had killed 
 him, ran past in pursuit of others. — He 
 soon extricated himself out of the miie, 
 and so made his escape. He fell in Avith 
 John Hough, and came into Wheeling. 
 
 John AVhivtzel and Kinzie Dickerson 
 met in their retreat, and returned togther. 
 Those who made their escape were with- 
 out arms, without clothing or jDrovision. 
 Their sufferings were great; but this they 
 bore with stoical indifl'erence, as it was the 
 fortune of war. Wliether the Indians 
 who defeated our heroes followed in pur- 
 suit from their towns, or were a party of 
 warriors, who accidentally happened to 
 fall in with them, has never been ascer- 
 tained. 
 
 From the place they had stolen the 
 horses, they had travelled two nights and 
 almost two entire days, without halting, 
 except just a few minutes at a time to let 
 the horses graze. From the circum- 
 stances of their rapid retreat with the 
 horses, it was Kupijosed that no pursuit
 
 212 
 
 THE WHETZELS. 
 
 could possibly have overtaken them, h\t 
 that fate had decreed that this party of 
 Indians should meet and defeat them. 
 
 As soon as the stragglers arrived at 
 Wheeling, Captain John M'Cullough col- 
 lected a party of men, and went to Wells 
 Creek, and buried the unfortunate men 
 who fell in and near the camp. The 
 Indians had mangled the dead bodies at a 
 most barbarous rate. Thus w^as closed 
 the horse-stealing tragedy. 
 
 
 
 \'>-,^7 
 
 
 
 \>*T- 
 
 15^
 
 Il]e ^ocs. 
 
 In the summer of 1782, a party of seven 
 Wj^andots made an incursion into a settle- 
 ment some distance below Fort Pitt, and 
 several miles fiom the Oliio river. Here 
 finding an old man alone in a cabin, tliey 
 killed him, packed up what plunder they 
 
 could find, and coumienced their retreat. 
 
 (213)
 
 214 THE POES. 
 
 Amongst their party was a celebrated 
 Wyandot chief, who, in addition to his 
 fame as a warrior and counsellor, was, 
 as to his size and strength, a real giant. 
 
 The news of the visit of the Indians 
 soon spread through the neighborhood, 
 and a party of eight good litlenien was 
 collected in a few hours for the purpose 
 of pursuing the Indians. In this party 
 were two brothers of the names of Adam 
 and Andrew Poe. They were both famous 
 for courage, size, and activity. This 
 little party commenced the i)ursuit of the 
 Indians with a determination, if possible, 
 not to suffer them to escape, as they 
 usually did on such occasions, by making 
 a speedy flight to the river, crossing it, 
 and then dividing into small parties, to 
 meet at a distant point in a given time. 
 
 The pursuit was continued the greater 
 part of the niglit after the Indians had 
 done the mischief. In the morning the 
 party found tliemselves on tlie trail of the 
 Indians, which led to the liver. When 
 arrived witliin a little distance of the
 
 THE POES. 
 
 (218)
 
 THE POES. 21 7 
 
 river, Adam Poe, fearing an ambuscade, 
 left the party, who followed directly on the 
 trail, to creep along the brink of the river 
 bank, under cover of the weeds and 
 bushes, to fall on the rear of the Indians, 
 should he find them in ambuscade. He 
 bad not gone far before he saw the Indian 
 rafts at the water's edge. Not seeing 
 any Indians, he .stepped softly down the 
 bank, with his rifle cocked. 
 
 When about half way dovrn, he dis- 
 covered the laro:e Wvandot chief and a 
 small Indian, within a few steps of him. 
 They were standing with their guns 
 cocked, and looking in the direction of our 
 party, who by this time had gone some 
 distance lower down the bottom. Poe 
 took aim at the large chief, but his rifle 
 missed fire. The Indians hearing the 
 snap of the gunlock, instanily tuined 
 round and discovered Poe, who being too 
 near them to retreat, dropped his gun, 
 and si)rang from the bank upon them, 
 and seizing the large Indian by the clot lies 
 
 on his bi'cast and at the same time 
 
 19
 
 218 THE POES. 
 
 embracing the neck of the small one, 
 threw them both down on the ground, 
 himself being uppermost. 
 
 The small Indian soon extricated him- 
 self, ran to the raft, got his tomahawk, 
 and attempted to dispatch Poe, the large 
 Indian holding him fast in his arms with 
 all his might, the better to enable his 
 fellow to effect his purpose. Poe, how- 
 ever, so well watched the motions of his 
 assailant, that, when in the act of aiming 
 nis blow at his head, by a vigorous and 
 well-directed kick with one of his feet, he 
 staggered the savage, and knocked the 
 tomahawk out of his hand. This failure 
 on the part of the small Indian, w^as 
 reproved by an exclamation of contempt 
 from the large one. 
 
 In a moment the Indian caught up his 
 tomahawk again, approached more cau- 
 tiously, brandishing his tomahawk, and 
 making a number of feigned blows in 
 deiiance and derision. Poe, however, still 
 on his guard, averted the real blow from 
 his head, by throwing up his arm and
 
 THE POES. 219 
 
 receiving it on his wrist, in which 
 he was severely wounded ; but not so as 
 to lose entirely the use of his hand. In 
 this perilous moment, Poe, by a violent 
 effort, broke loose from the Indian, 
 snatched up one of the Indians' guns and 
 shot the small Indian through the breast, 
 as he ran up a third time to tomahawk 
 him. 
 
 The large Indian was now on his feet, 
 and grasping Poe by a shoulder and leg, 
 threw him down on the bank. Poe 
 instantly disengaged himself, and got on 
 his feet. Tlie Indian then seized him 
 again, and a new struggle ensued, which, 
 owing to the slippery state of the bank, 
 ended in the fall of both combatants into 
 the water. In this situation it was the 
 object of each to drown the other. Their 
 efforts to effect their purpose were con- 
 tinued for some time with alternate 
 success, sometimes one being under the 
 water and sometimes the other. 
 
 Poe at length seized the tuft of hair on 
 the scalp of the Indian, with which he
 
 220 THE POES. 
 
 held his head under water, until he 
 supposed him drowned. Relaxing his 
 hold too soon, Poe instantly found his 
 gigantic antagonist on his feet again, and 
 ready for another combat. In this they 
 were carried into the water beyond their 
 depth. In this situation they were com- 
 pelled to loose their hold on each other, 
 and swim for mutual safety. Both sought 
 the shore, to seize, a gun and end the 
 contest with bullets. The Indian being 
 the best swimmer, reached the land first. 
 Poe seeing this, immediately turned back 
 into tbe water, to escape, if possible, 
 being shot, by diving. Fortunately, the 
 Indian caught up the ritle with which 
 Poe had killed the other warrior. 
 
 At this juncture, Andrew Poe, missing 
 his brother from the party, and supposing 
 from the report of the gun which he shot, 
 that he was either killed or engaged in 
 conflict with the Indians, hastened to the 
 spot. On seeing him, Adam called out to 
 him to "kill the big Indian on shore." 
 But Andrew's gun, like that of the Indian's,
 
 ADAM foe's adventure WITH TWO INDIANS. (-21) 
 
 19^
 
 THE POES. 223 
 
 was empty. The contest was now between 
 the white and the Indian, who should 
 load and fire first. Yery fortunately for 
 Poe, the Indian in loading drew the ram- 
 rod from the thimbles of the stock of the 
 gun with so much violence that it slipped 
 out of his hand, and fell a little distance 
 from him. He quickly caught it up and 
 rammed down his bullet. This little 
 delay gave Poe the advantage. He shot 
 the Indian as he was raising his gun to 
 take aim at him. 
 
 As soon as Andrew had shot the Indian 
 he jumped into the river to assist his 
 wounded brother to shore ; but Adam 
 thinking more of the honor of carrying 
 the scalp of the big Indiau home as a 
 trophy of victory than of his own safety, 
 urged Andrew to go back and prevent the 
 struggling savage from rolling himself 
 into the river and escaping. Andrew's 
 solicitude for the life of his brother pre- 
 vented him from complying with this 
 request. In the meantime, the Indian, 
 jealous of the honor of his scalp even in
 
 224 THE POES. 
 
 the agonies of death, succeeded in reacli 
 ing the river and getting into the carrent 
 so that his body was never obtained. 
 
 An unfortunate occurrence took place 
 during this conflict. Just as Andrew 
 arrived at the top of tlie bank for the 
 relief of his brother, one of the party who 
 had followed close behind him, seeing 
 Adam in the river, and mistaking him for 
 a wounded Indian, shot at him, and 
 wounded him in the shoulder. He how- 
 ever recovei'cd from his wounds. During 
 the contest between Adam Poe and the 
 Indians, the party had overtaken the 
 remaining six of them. 
 
 A desperate conflict ensued, in which five 
 of the Indians were killed. Our loss was 
 three men killed, and Adam Poe severely 
 wounded, Thus ended the Si)artan con- 
 flict, with the loss of three valiant men 
 on our part, and with that of the whole 
 Indian party excepting one wariior. 
 Never on any occasion was there a greater 
 display of desperate bravery, and seldom 
 did a conflict take place, which, in the
 
 THE POES. 22") 
 
 .ssne, proved fatal to so great a pro})oi'tion 
 jf those engaged in it. 
 
 The fatal result of this little campaign, 
 on the side of tlie Indians, occasioned a 
 universal mourning among the Wyandot 
 nation. The big Indian and his four 
 brothers, all of whom were killed at the 
 same place, were among the most dis- 
 tinguished chiefs and warriors of their 
 nation. 
 
 The big Indian was magnanimous as 
 well as brave. He, more than any other 
 individual, contributed, by his exani]^le 
 and intluence, to the good character of 
 the Wyandots for lenity towards their 
 prisoners. He would not suffer tlieni 
 to be killed or ill-treated. This mercy to 
 captives was an honorable distinction in 
 the character of the Wyandots, and was 
 well-understood by our first settlers, who, 
 in case of captivity, thought it a fortunate 
 circumstance to fall into their hands.
 
 The Boy Warriors. 
 
 In the fall of the year 1793, two boy a 
 of the name of John and Henry Johnson, 
 the first thirteen, the latter eleven years 
 old, whose parents lived in Carpenter's 
 station, a little distance above the mouth 
 of Short Creek, on the east side of tLe 
 
 (226)
 
 THE JOHNSONS. 227 
 
 Ohio river, were sent out in the evening 
 to hunt the cows. At the foot of a hill at 
 the back of the bottom, they sat down 
 under a hickory tree to crack some nuts. 
 They soon saw two men coming towards 
 tliem, one of whom had a bridle in his 
 hand. Being dressed like white men, 
 they mistook them for their father and an 
 uncle in search of horses. When they 
 discovered their mistake, and attempted 
 to run off, the Indians, pointing their guns 
 at them, told them to stop or they would 
 kill them. Thev halted and were taken 
 prisoners. 
 
 The Indians being in pursuit of horses 
 conducted the boys by a circuitous route 
 over the Short creek hills in search of 
 them, until late in the evening, when 
 they halted at a spring in a hollow place, 
 about three miles from the fort. Here 
 they kindled a small fire, cooked and ate 
 some victuals, and prepared to repose for 
 the niirht. Henrv, the vounsrest of the 
 boys, during the ramble had affected the 
 greatest satisfaction at having been taken
 
 228 THE JOHNSON?;. 
 
 prisoner. He said his father was a hard 
 master, who kej^t hiui always at hard 
 work, and allowed him no play ; but that 
 for his part he wished to live in the 
 woods and be a hunter. This deportment 
 soon brought him into intimacy with one 
 of the Indians, who could speak very good 
 English. The Indians frequently asked 
 the boys if they knew of any good horses 
 running in the woods. Some time before 
 they halted, one of the Indians gave the 
 largest of the boys a little bag, which he 
 supposed contained money, and made him 
 carry it. 
 
 When night came on the fire was 
 covered up, the boys pinioned, and made 
 to lie down together. The Indians then 
 placed their hoppis straps over them, and 
 lav down, one on each side of them on the 
 ends of the straps. Pretty late in the 
 night the Indians fell asleep ; and one c'' 
 them becoming cold, caught hold of John 
 in his arms and turned him over on the 
 outside. In this situation, the boy, who 
 had kept awake, found means to get his
 
 THE JOHNSONS. 229 
 
 hands loose. He then whispered to his 
 brother, made him get up, and untied his 
 arms. This done, Henry thought of 
 nothing but running off as fast as pos- 
 sible; but when about to start, John 
 caught hold of him, saying, "We must 
 kill these Indians before we go." After 
 some hesitation, Henry agreed to make 
 the attempt. John then took one of the 
 rifles of the Indians, and placed it on a 
 log, with the muzzle close to the head of 
 one of them. He then cocked the gun, 
 and placed his little brother at the breech, 
 with his finger on the trigger, with 
 instructions to pull it as soon as he 
 should strike the other Indian. 
 
 He then took one of the Indian's toma- 
 hawks, and standing astride of the other 
 Indian, struck him with it. The blow 
 however, fell on the back of the neck and 
 to one side, so as not to be fatal. The 
 Indian then attempted to spring up ; but 
 the little fellow repeated his blows with 
 such force and ra|)idity on the skull, that, 
 
 as he expressed it, " the Indian lay still 
 
 20
 
 230 THE JOHNSONS. 
 
 and began to quiver." At tlie moment of 
 the first stroke given by the elder brother 
 with the tomahawk, the younger one 
 pulled the trigger, and shot away a con- 
 siderable portion of the Indian's lower 
 jaw. This Indian, a moment after 
 receiving the shot, began to flounce about 
 and yell in the most frightful manner. 
 The boys then made the best of their way 
 to the fort, and reached it a little before 
 day-break. On getting near the fort they 
 found the people all up and in great 
 agitation on their account. On hearing 
 a woman exclaim, "Poor little fellows, 
 they are killed or taken prisoners!" the 
 oldest one answered, "No, mother, we are 
 here yet." 
 
 Having brought nothing away with 
 them from the Indian camp, their relation 
 of what had taken place between them 
 and the Indians was not fullv credited. 
 A small party was soon made up to go 
 and ascertain the truth or falsehood of 
 their report. This party the boys con- 
 ducted to the spot by the shortest route.
 
 THE JOHNSONS. 231 
 
 On arriving at the place, they found the 
 Indian whom the oldest brother had toma- 
 hawked, lying dead in the camp ; the 
 other had crawled away, and taken his 
 gun and shot-pouch wdth him. After 
 scalping the Indian, the party returned to 
 the fort ; and the same day a larger party 
 went out to look after the wounded Indian, 
 who had crawled some distance from the 
 camp and concealed himself in the top of 
 a fallen tree, where, notwithstanding the 
 severity of his w^ound, w^ith a Spartan 
 braverv, he determined to sell his life as 
 dearly as possible. Having fixed his gun 
 for the purpose, on the approach of the 
 men to a proper distance, he took aim at 
 one of them, and pulled the trigger, but 
 his gun missed fire. On hearing the snap 
 of the lock, one of the men exclaimed, 
 " I should not like to be killed by a dead 
 Indian 1" The party concluding that the 
 Indian would die at any rate, thought best 
 to retreat, and return and look for him 
 after some time. On returning, however, 
 lie could not be found, having crawled
 
 232 THE JOHNSONS. 
 
 away and concealed himself in some othei 
 place. His skeleton and gun were found 
 some time afterwards. 
 
 The Indians who were killed were great 
 wariiors, and very wealthy. The bag, 
 which was supposed to contain money, it 
 was conjectured was got by one of the 
 party w^ho went out first in the morning. 
 On hearing the rej)()rt of the boys, he 
 slipped off by liimself, and reached the 
 place before the party arrived. For 
 some time afterwards he appeared to 
 have a greater plenty of money than his 
 neighbors. 
 
 The Indians themselves did honor to 
 the bravery of these two boys. After 
 their treaty with General Wayne, a friend 
 of the Indians who were killed, made 
 inquiry of a man from Short Creek, what 
 had become of the boys who killed the 
 Indians? He was answered that they 
 lived at the same place with their paients. 
 The Indian replied, " You have not done 
 right ; you should make kings of those 
 boys."
 
 2lc^be»)ft|^C3 of ]i\^e^ §h]h[]. 
 
 Among the earliest captivities on record 
 from the Pennsylvania frontier, which is 
 highly instinctive of Indian life, is that 
 of James Smith, who afterwards, from the 
 opportunity afforded for becoming familiar 
 with the habits of the savages, became as 
 successful as prominent in skirmishes 
 with them, during the subsequent wars 
 of the country. 
 
 In the spring of 1755, a road was cut at 
 the expense of the province of Pennsyl- 
 
 20^ (238)
 
 534 
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 
 
 vniiia from Fort Leaden, in Cumberland 
 coiinty, to the Three Forks of the Yoii.di- 
 iogheny, intersecting at that place ^viih 
 Braddock's road. It was designed to fur- 
 
 OENERAL BRADDOCK. 
 
 nish supplies by this road, to Braddock's 
 army, and as a communication with the 
 western country for the same purpose when 
 Braddock should take possession of it, as
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SxMITH. 235 
 
 little doubts were entertained about tbe 
 success of his campaign. 
 
 Three hundred men were emplo^^ed in 
 the service. James Smith, a 3'oung man 
 of eighteen years of age, was of the num- 
 ber. Being sent back with another for 
 the purpose of hurrying forward some pio- 
 vision wagons, on their return they were 
 waylaid by three Indians, his companion 
 killed and scal})ed, and he taken prisoner. 
 He was immediatelv marched to Fort Du 
 Quesne, where his tntree to the place failed 
 not to be siiinalized by the cruel custom 
 of running the gantlet, amid the yells, 
 execrations, and blows of numerous 
 savages. Felled to the earth before he had 
 reached the place for which he had to run, 
 he was carried senseless into the fort, and 
 on return to a consciousness of his situa- 
 tion, found himself being administered 
 to by a French physician, under whose 
 care he eventually recovered from the 
 wounds that lind been so unmercifullv 
 inflicted upon him. In the meantime 
 Braddock had advanced and been de-
 
 236 ADVENTURES OF JAxMES SMITH. 
 
 feated. The distressing account given 
 by him of that melancholy affair, throws 
 much light upon the movements of the 
 French and Indians at that time. 
 
 Shortly afterwards he was taken by 
 some Delaware Indians, who had resolved 
 on sparing his life, in a canoe up the 
 Allegheny, to an Indian town, which he 
 mentions as about forty miles distant ; and 
 from which it is probable that the Kittan- 
 ning villages was the place, they being 
 about that distance. After remaining here 
 about three weeks he was taken to another 
 town called Tullihas, inhabited bv Dela- 
 wares, Caughnewagas, and Mohikans, on 
 the north branch of the Muskingum. The 
 daj after arriving at this latter place, the 
 hair from his head was all plucked out 
 but a small tuft on the crown, which they 
 dressed after their own fashion. His ears 
 and nose were then perforated and adorned 
 with Jewels. His accustomed dress was 
 next abandoned and that of the Indian 
 substituted. His body was now being 
 aintcd with various colors, a belt of
 
 SMITH CARRIED INTO THE FORT AFTER RUNNING THE GANTLET. (237)
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAxMES SMITH. 239 
 
 wanipuni thrown over his neck, and his 
 arms adorned with silver bands ; he was 
 led out in front of the w^igwams by an old 
 chief, who gave a few sharp halloes (coo- 
 wigh), upon which the inhabitants of the 
 whole town came running and gathered 
 around liim and the metamorphosed 
 prisoner, whom he retained by the hand. 
 
 Smith not being informed for what 
 object he w^as thus obliged to submit to 
 their barbarous notions of dress; and 
 now, that the whole inhabitants of the 
 town were summoned, he began to sup- 
 pose he had only been prepared to be the 
 victim of some of their cruel rites. Not a 
 prisoner being spared life, as he says, that 
 w^as taken at Braddock's defeat, he con- 
 cluded that they were now determined 
 to prelude his death by the infliction of 
 some excruciating torments. 
 
 When the multitude had assembled 
 around, the old chief, by his side, made a 
 long, loud speech. This ended, the 
 prisoner was given into the custody of 
 three young squaws, who leading him
 
 240 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 
 
 by the hand down the bank of the river, 
 entered it till the water was mid-way 
 deep. The squaws made signs to him 
 to plunge under the water, but not under- 
 standing the motive, he concluded that his 
 death indeed had been resolved upon, and 
 these three young females deputed his 
 executioners ; accordingly a most stub- 
 born resistance was made by him, when 
 the whole three endeavored as indus- 
 triously to force him under the water. 
 Loud yells and peals of laughter echoed 
 from the motley crowd of chiefs, warriors, 
 squaws and children, on the bank ; while 
 poor Smith as Thompson perhaps would 
 express it, while alluding to a similar cir- 
 cumstance, 
 
 " Inly disturbed, and wondering what this wild, 
 Outrageous tumult means," 
 
 struggled the more. 
 
 A t length one of the squaws calling all 
 her little English in aid, made out to give 
 him assurance of their perfectly peaceful 
 intentions, by saying, ''no hurt yoit.^'' 
 
 Upon, at length, thus understanding
 
 
 Jfcj ' Ik™! ■' ■■-!'■
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 243 
 
 tlieir wishes, Smith quietly gave himself 
 up to their ladyships, who, he said, were 
 as good as their word; for though they 
 plunged him under the water and washed 
 and rubbed him severely, they did not 
 hurt him much. 
 
 After the process of washing was over, 
 he was conducted by the courteous females 
 np to the council-house, where a full suit 
 of Indian costume awaited him, in which 
 he was immediately habited. It consisted 
 of a ruffled shirt, a pair of leggins " done 
 off with ribbons," and a "pair of moc- 
 casons dressed with beads, porcu})ine 
 quills and red hair," together with a 
 tinsel-laced capo. His neck and face were 
 again painted various colors, and his head 
 adorned with feathers. 
 
 Being seated on a bear-skin, a pipe, 
 tomahawk, and polecat-skin pouch were 
 given him ; the latter containing tobacco, 
 spunk, flint and steel. The Indians, 
 dressed and painted in their grandest 
 manner, now entered, and seating them-
 
 244 ADVENTURES OV JAMES SMITH. 
 
 selves with their pipes, a profound silence 
 ensued. 
 
 Shortly, one of the chiefs rose and made 
 a speech, addressing himself to Smith, 
 which being interpreted to him, was-^ 
 
 '' My son, you are now llesh of our He>h 
 and bone of our bone. By the ceremony 
 that was performed this day, every drop 
 of white-man's blood was washed out of 
 your veins; you are taken now into the 
 Caughnewago nation, and initiated into a 
 warlike tribe ; you are adopted into a 
 great family, and now leceived with great 
 seriousness and soleranitv in the room 
 and place of a great man. By what has 
 passed this day you are now one of us by 
 an old strong law and custom. My son, 
 you have now nothing to fear. We are 
 now under the same obligations to love, 
 support, and defend you, that we are to 
 love and defend one another ; therefore 
 you are to consider yourself as one of our 
 people." 
 
 Mr. Smith says, in his nanative, rather
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 245 
 
 humorously, that he did not at the tiuie 
 put much faith in this " fine speech" of 
 the old man ; especially that of the 
 white-man's blood being washed from his 
 veins. However, their subsequent con- 
 duct towards him proved the sincerity 
 of the speech, for no distinction was after- 
 wards made between him and tlieir people. 
 
 Smith was now acknowledged and 
 greeted by hi.s new kins-folk, and the 
 ensuins: evenins: invited to a feast. 
 
 We have been minute in this part of 
 the narrative, that thi^ ceremony of adop- 
 tion into this nation uiight be presented. 
 
 After the feast was over in the evening, 
 their war-dance was performed and their 
 war-song sung, preparatory to the depar- 
 ture of a party of warriors, who were to 
 leave the next morning on a predatory 
 excursion to the frontiers of Virginia. 
 
 Their war-dance seems to difl'er verv 
 little from that of the Senecas. 
 
 "They had both vocal and instrumental 
 music," says Mr. Smith, "they had a 
 short hollow gum, closed at one end with 
 
 21*
 
 246 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 
 
 water in it, and parchment stretched over 
 the open end thereof, which they beat with 
 one stick, and made a sound nearly lilvc a 
 muffled drum, — all those who were going 
 on this expedition collected together and 
 formed. An old Indian then began to 
 sing, and timed the music by beating on 
 his drum, as the ancients formerly timed 
 their music by beating the tabor. On 
 this the warriors began to advance, or 
 move forward in concert, like well discip- 
 lined troops would march to the fife and 
 drum. Each warrior had a tomahawk, 
 spear, or war-mallet in his hand, and they 
 all moved regularly towards the east, or 
 the way they intended to go to war. At 
 length they all stretched their tomahawks 
 towards the Potomac, and giving a 
 hideous shout or yell, they wheeled quick 
 about, and danced in the same manner 
 back. The next was the war-song. In 
 performing this, only one sung at a time, 
 in a moving posture, with a tomahawk in 
 his hand, while all the other warriors 
 were engaged in calling aloud he-uh he-
 
 i':"'''-'i'!|;i''''''i!T'''"!ill Pi ! 
 
 I^ljlll"-*'" 
 
 liiiiUhiiUii.Uii"""
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 249 
 
 nil which they constantly repeated while 
 the war-song was going on. When the 
 warrior that was singing had ended his 
 song, he struck a war-post with his toma- 
 hawk, and with a loud voice told what 
 warlike exploits he had done, and what he 
 now intended to do. which were answered 
 by the other warriors with loud shouts of 
 applause. Some who had not before 
 intended to go to the war, at this time 
 were so animated by the performance, 
 that they took up the tomahawk and sung 
 the war-song, which was answered with 
 shouts of joy, as they were then initiated 
 into the present marching company. The 
 next morning this compan^^ all collected at 
 one place, with their heads and faces 
 painted with various colors, and packs 
 upon their backs: they marched off, all 
 silent, except the commander, who, in the 
 front, sung the travelling song, which 
 began in this manner: hoo caiigh tainU 
 heegana. Just as the rear passed the end 
 of the town, they began to fire in their 
 slow manner from the front to the rear,
 
 250 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 
 
 which was accompanied with shouts and 
 yells from all quarters." 
 
 Shortly afterwards the remaining war- 
 riors of the nation went on a hunting 
 excursion a short distance west, Smith 
 
 BL'FFALO HUNTING. 
 
 accompanied them. Many amusing things 
 are related by him as occurring. It seems 
 buffalo and elk were plenty at the time, 
 which, with other animals^ were killed in 
 abundance by the pai'ty.
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 251 
 
 After an absence of about six weeks 
 tliey returned. By this time the party 
 that liad left for the Virginia frontiers 
 had returned. They had brought many 
 prisoners and scalps with tliem. 
 
 In the autumn of the same year Smith 
 was taken across to Erie, his adopted 
 brotlier-in-law havina; married a Wvandot 
 squaw, and removing thither was the 
 occasion of Smith's going. 
 
 It seems not to have been an unusual 
 custom for one nation to intei-marry with 
 another. The Caughnewagas are men- 
 tioned as having intermarried also with 
 the Delawares. 
 
 Winter coming on a cabin was built for 
 their shelter. " They cut logs," continues 
 Smith, "about fifteen feet long, and laid 
 these logs upon each other, and drove 
 posts in the ground at. each end to keep 
 them together ; the posts they tied toge- 
 ther at the top with bark, and by this 
 means raised a wall fifteen feet long, and 
 about four feet high, and in the same 
 manner they raised another wall opposite
 
 252 ADVENTURES UE JAMES SMITH. 
 
 to this, at about twelve feet distance ; 
 then thev drove forks in the oTOiind in the 
 centre of each end, and laid a strong pole 
 fiom end to end on these forks ; and from 
 these walls to the poles, they set up poles 
 instead of rafters, and on these tied small 
 poles in place of laths ; and a cover was 
 made of lynn bark, which will run even 
 in the winter season. 
 
 "As every tree • will not run, they 
 examine the tree first, bv trvinoi: it near 
 the ground, and when they find it will do, 
 they fell the tree and raise the bark with 
 the tonuihawk near the top of the tree, 
 about five or six inches Isioad, then put 
 the tomahawk handle under this bark, 
 and i)ull it along down the butt of the 
 tree ; so that sometimes one piece of bark 
 will be thirty feet long; this bark they 
 cut at suitable lengths in order to cover 
 the hut. 
 
 " At the end of these walls tliey set uj) 
 split timber, so that they had timber all 
 round, excepting a door at each end. At 
 the top, in ])lacc of a chimney, they

 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 255 
 
 left an open place, and for bedding tliey 
 laid down the aforesaid kind of bark, on 
 which they spread bear-skins. From end 
 to end of this hut along the middle there 
 were fires, which the squaws made of dry 
 split wood, and the holes or open places 
 that appeared, the squaws stopped with 
 moss, which they collected from old logs ; 
 and at the door they hung a bearskin ; 
 and notwithstanding the winters are hard 
 here, our lodging was much better than 
 what I expected." 
 
 This done, the warriors ascain left to 
 harass the frontiers, and the hunters to 
 procure meat for the winter. 
 
 Warriors and hunters are distinct 
 classes among the Indians, and the former 
 chosen by votes on all occasions, which is 
 considered a mark of high distinction. 
 At this period when the guns were in 
 demand for war, the hunters were 
 restricted to bows and arrows, and often 
 with a single arrow it seems they would 
 kill even so formidable ah animal as a 
 bear.
 
 256 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 
 
 Young Smith and Contileaugo, bis 
 brother-in-law, hunted in company. It 
 being the time of year that bears lie most 
 of the time in an inactive state in their 
 lairs, and the season when their flesh is 
 best, an endeavor was made to take them. 
 
 The manner in which they weie caught 
 was by observing trees with the bark 
 scratched off which was done by them in 
 the act of climbing to their holes — their 
 lairs being for the most part in cavities in 
 the bodies of trees at some distance from 
 the ground. 
 
 When a tree was found with the bark 
 somewhat scratched off, with a hole in 
 the trunk above, a sapling was felled 
 against it, to serve as a ladder. One of 
 the hunters would now ascend the tree 
 and drive out the animal with a pole, 
 while another below stood in readiness to 
 shoot the moment he made his appearance. 
 If a failure was made in brinouns; him to 
 daylight, a fire was kindled in the cavity 
 to smoke him out.
 
 |f I'll T ^ \\J'ffl! :^ffll1f;!il'<!'|r|n!i w ■ir ■s:--«-^- '"iiiiiir 
 
 S!li?i!!iiji^^trt'^ 
 
 22* 
 
 (257)
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 259 
 
 Several bears were procured in this 
 way by Smith and the Indian. 
 
 As the spring opened the Indians began 
 to be occupied in making sugar from the 
 sap of the maple. Their vessels, it seems, 
 for holding the water, were made from 
 elm bark, being large enough to contain 
 several gallons. Their manner of notch- 
 ing the tree to obtain the water was by 
 cutting a large one, sloping downwards, 
 at the end of which a tomahawk was 
 driven in. After taking the tomahawk 
 out, a chip was driven in, which answered 
 as a spile, and under which the vessel was 
 set. The water being collected was boiled 
 in brass kettles, which most of the Indians 
 endeavored to be furnished with. 
 
 The manner in which they used the sugar 
 \vas by mixing it plentifully with bear's 
 fat, into which they dipped roasted venison. 
 
 The Indians are noted for their ability 
 to run long distances. The Wyandots 
 sometimes relied upon their wind in run- 
 ning down horses, and often, it appears, 
 caught them in this way.
 
 260 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 
 
 Smith and his adopted brother-in-law, 
 while hunting, came across some horses 
 that were running at large. Stripping 
 themselves naked, except the breech-clout 
 and moccasons, they started in pursuit. 
 Smith soon gave out for want of breath, 
 but the Indian continued the pursuit the 
 whole day, yet the animals still distanced 
 him. The alternative then resorted to 
 was to shoot them through the neck 
 between the bone and the mane. This 
 was resorted to in the present instance, 
 but as, perhaps in many other cases, 
 proved fatal, from not being able to send 
 the ball precisely to the right place. 
 
 Many were the interesting scenes and 
 customs of Indian life that fell under the 
 notice of Smith while living with them. 
 In the early part of the summer of 1758 
 word reached the French at Detroit that 
 Forbes was preparing a formidable army 
 to march against fort Du Quesne. Smith 
 was then with the Indians near Detroit. 
 From him we learn that the French, upon 
 the receipt of this news, dispatched
 
 MAPLE-SUGAR MAKING. 
 
 (261)
 
 ADVENTURES OF JAMES SMITH. 263 
 
 runners to the different nations and tribes 
 in that vicinity, soliciting their warriors 
 to march forthwith to Fort Du Quesne to 
 repel Forbes. The warriors generally soon 
 rendezvoused at Detroit, with great cheer- 
 fulness and alacrity, boasting they would 
 serve Forbes as thev had Braddock. 
 
 After most of two years more wander- 
 ing among the Indians, Smith made his 
 escape to the French at Montreal, from 
 which place, after being detained some 
 time with other English prisoners, he was 
 sent to Crown Point, and exchanged ; 
 from whence after five years absence, he 
 returned home, where, he says, " he was 
 received with great joy but with suiprise, 
 to seem so much like an Indian both in 
 gait and gesture." 
 
 In 1765, Smith was granted a lieu- 
 tenant's commission, and accompanied 
 Bouquet in his campaign against the Ohio 
 Indians.
 
 U.J 
 
 -It was (iiiring the year 1764 that the 
 first plan of lots, known as the Military 
 Plan, was laid off adjacent to Fort Pitt, 
 and the projected village called Pittsburg. 
 
 It was likewise during this same vear 
 that the old redoubt, still standing, was 
 erected by Colonel Bouquet ininiediately 
 alter his return with the army from he 
 Muskingum. 
 
 Among the settlements on the Loval- 
 
 (264)
 
 ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURB RIDGE. 265 
 
 COLONEL -BOUQUET. 
 
 •'»*. 
 
 hanna at this period, an oM hunter by the 
 name of William Biirbi'idge, had com- 
 menced one near where New Alexandria 
 now stands. He had built his cabin on 
 the banks of the creek, at a considerable 
 
 distance froui any other, which, shaded 
 
 23
 
 2GG ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 
 
 by tlie luxuriant forests had long been 
 the remote home of the hunter-hermit 
 before any other than himself had entered 
 it. 
 
 He had commenced what was called a 
 tomahawk improvement; but possibly 
 when he took up his residence here, the 
 acquisition of land had been no object. 
 Like many others, in the distant forests, 
 he may have remained but to enjoy the 
 solitary hunter's life. 
 
 On the return of Bouquet's troops to 
 the settlements east of the mountains, 
 Burbridge in the course of his rambles 
 happened to fall in with them. And 
 having perhaps come to tlie wise conclu- 
 sion, like one of old, that it was not mete 
 to be any longer alone, took occasion to 
 reveal the secret of his resolvcis to one of 
 the women who accompanied the army. 
 Patience Bickerstaff, the name of his 
 lady-love, though somewhat in the down- 
 hill of life, whom he had but seen to 
 admire and attempt to win, with the same 
 good freedom of her wooer, unhesitatingly
 
 ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 267 
 
 conte^seii herself tlie won ; and instantly 
 agreed to become the partner of life's toils 
 with him, and to accompany the hunter to 
 his secluded abode. 
 
 Accordingly, Burbridge, after having 
 procured from the homeward-bound 
 soldiers a keg of whiskey, in exchange for 
 some venison, which his faithful rifle 
 never allowed him to be in want of, he 
 proceeded with it under one arm, and his 
 good bride at the other, to his cabin in 
 the remote forests. 
 
 The history of this couple may be con- 
 sidered as instructive as amusing. It fur- 
 nishes a specimen of life not uncommon 
 at that period in the backwoods. We will 
 therefore follow them to their home and 
 accomi)any them in their subsequent 
 wanderings. 
 
 Happy, doubtless, were the thrice 
 pleased pair in their obscure retreat, far 
 from the cares and turmoils of bustling 
 life ; with plenty of good venison and 
 better old rye at their command. Here, 
 at any rate, almost unheard of, for somo
 
 268 ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 
 
 time they remained. And if happiness 
 were not their's, it was not because they 
 were displeased with themselves or the 
 life they had chosen. 
 
 However, after a time the settlements 
 began to approach ; and of a still morn- 
 ing the sound of the forest-felling axe 
 could be heard at a distance. And never 
 perhaps did the hated harbinger of 
 appi'oaching civilization fall upon the 
 Indian's ear with more unwelcomeness. 
 A few months had but passed and the lands 
 on the creek above and below Burbridge's 
 cabin began to be taken up, as it was 
 called, and the solitary hunter iound him- 
 self no longer alone, when on an excur- 
 sion through the pathless woods. 
 
 As most of the settlers of this period, 
 like Burbridge, were rather hunters than 
 cultivators of the soil, he found among 
 those he occasionally met with, spirits not 
 uncongenial, who afterwards became his 
 companions, and too much like himself, 
 were fonder of pursuing the track of a 
 deer, or testing their skill with the rifle at
 
 ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 269 
 
 a target, than making an industrious 
 effort at a settlement. The latter pastime 
 was often resorted to, while the point at 
 is^ue could seldom be settled. Accord- 
 ingly it happened a day for a general trial 
 of their skill was appointed. Burb ridge 
 had recently become the owner of a new 
 silver-mounted rifle, of which he was very 
 jn-oud, not merely because it was of hand- 
 some make, but of unerring aim. This 
 rifle, in the hands of its practised owner, 
 won the prize from the competitors on the 
 day that had been fixed for the trial of 
 their skill. 
 
 Among those who contended for the 
 reward of being called the " best shot," 
 was a fiiendly Indian, known by the 
 English name of Jim Compass. He had 
 known but little of Burbridge, but now on 
 a closer acquaintance, pretended to be 
 much pleased with him ; while he per- 
 haps was better pleased with his rifle. 
 Ui^on Burbridge leaving for home, the 
 Indian propo-ed to accompany and spend 
 
 a few days with him hunting, which waa 
 
 2a*
 
 270 ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 
 
 readily assented to, and they became com 
 panions. 
 
 One morning the call of a turkey was 
 heard down the creek some distance 
 below the cabin. The two proposed to 
 proceed cautiously down the bank and 
 kill it. When at souie distance on the 
 way, and approaching the bank where it 
 overlooked the stream, the Indian sud- 
 denly halted and pretended to direct the 
 attention of Burbridge to some water-fowl, 
 which he alleged were in the creek imme- 
 diately under the bank, before them. 
 Both, with their guns in a position ready 
 to lire, softly neared the brow of tlie 
 bank. Burbrido:e was foremost, and tlie 
 moment his atteution was thus directed, 
 the Indian treacberously discharged his 
 gun and shot him through the back. 
 Fatally wounded, but not killed, he fell to 
 the earth, and instantly comprehending 
 the treacherv of the act, directed his ride 
 as he partly lay, towards the Indian, with 
 the determination to despatch him. But 
 the Indian dropj)ing his own gun sprang
 
 JIM COMPASS, 
 
 (271)
 
 ADVENTURES OF TTILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 273 
 
 behind a tree, a few steps distant, to save 
 himself from his victim. 
 
 The secret of the whole was, that the 
 Indian wished from the moment he had 
 seen Burbridge's gun to become the pos- 
 sessor of it ; and had made himself his 
 companion expressly to await an oppor- 
 tunity to wrest it from him. However, no 
 chance presenting to obtain it short 
 of taking life, the treacherous alternative, 
 at length, was determined upon, and com- 
 mitted in the manner just related. 
 
 The situation of the two was now 
 curiouslv interesting:. The wounded hun- 
 ter unable to rise to his feet or crawl from 
 the spot in which he lay, sedulously 
 beseiged the Indian behind the tree. His 
 uncharged gun lay between him and Bur- 
 bridge, and he dared not either venture 
 to recover it, or attempt to escape f^-oui 
 the tree, for the unerring rifle which he 
 attempted to obtain, by his cowardly ( on- 
 duct, was still pointed towards him by he 
 unfortunate, but yet unnerved, huntei 
 
 Xight came, but with it broucrht rio
 
 274 ADVEXTURES OF WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 
 
 return of Burbridge or the Indian to the 
 l(jnely cabin, where Patience Bickerstai! 
 tbiind herself the sole occupant. Two 
 days and two nights more elapsed, and 
 still she received no tidings of her hunter- 
 husband. 
 
 She had heard the report of the rifle a 
 short distance down the creek, directly 
 after the two had left in pursuit of the 
 turkey; and now judging that some 
 accident might have happened, concluded 
 to 2:0 down the bank on search. To her 
 great sorrow and distress she came upon 
 Burbridge where he lay, still alive, though 
 nearly famished with hunger and worn 
 down with exposure. 
 
 The Indian, though enabled to escape 
 from his unpleasant situation at the return 
 of nisiiht, still linp:ered around till the 
 wasted strength of Burbridge allowed 
 resistance no longer, when the rifle was 
 ^aken, and he fled from the neighborhood 
 with it. 
 
 Burbridge related the fatal circum- 
 Btance in a few words to liis sympathizing
 
 ADYEXTURF.S 01 WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 27'^ 
 
 lielp-mate. Wliile she remained at his 
 side, a number of land-johhers came by on 
 the opposite side of the creek. Patience 
 hailed them for assistance, and they came 
 over and bore the almost expiring hunter 
 to his humble cabin, where he died in a 
 few days. 
 
 The faithful Patience Bickerstaff was 
 now alone. But there were more hunters 
 in the neighborhood than the one she had 
 buried; with not a few of them she had 
 become acquainted. For one of these a 
 manifest predilection was early evident, 
 and the worthy Patience was soon again 
 entitled to the romantic distinction of 
 hunter's bride. 
 
 A brother of the deceased Burbridge 
 appeared in the neighborhood about this 
 time, and as the lands were principally 
 surveyed and claimed, they were looked 
 upon as worth sometliing. The biother, 
 Thomas, by name, therefore, became the 
 proper claimant of the tract on which 
 Patience with her new husband still
 
 276 ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURB RIDGE. 
 
 resided, and accordingly commenced an 
 occupancy of it. 
 
 Patience Bickerstaff and her husband 
 now concluded to remove out to Forbes' 
 road, and there keep public house ; as 
 that thorouirhfare to the western countrv 
 began to offer some inducement to pre- 
 pare entertainment for emigrants and 
 travellers that already passed along it. 
 
 Accordinsilv a cabin was erected at 
 the road-side, and a keo: of whiskey pro- 
 cured. And that the weary wayfarer 
 miiiht not pass (he hospitable abode 
 uninformed of its objects, a broad dap- 
 hoard was pinned above the door on the 
 oatside, on which was written with keel, 
 in large letters, the welcoming insigm 
 of " Entertainmext." 
 
 Thomas Biirbridfre beino: an old bache- 
 lor, and, like what his brother had been. 
 a hunter, cared little about the improve- 
 ment of the land. Befoie he had been 
 long an occupant of the dilapidated cabin 
 a family appeared in the neighborhood 
 m pursuit of land, to whom Thomas made
 
 24 
 
 SCENE AT BICKERSTAFF TATERN. 
 
 (277)
 
 ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM BURBRIDGE. 279 
 
 a sale. The conditions of which show, at 
 least, the trifling value which was set 
 upon land at that i:)eriod. They were, 
 that the purdiaser should lodge Buibridge 
 in his family during his life, for the con- 
 sideration of a full and entire right to the 
 tract of land, and a sullficient supply of 
 venison and wild meat for the family, 
 which Burbridge was to procuie by way 
 of pastime. 
 
 The purchaser's name was Samuel Craig. 
 One of his sons. Captain John Craig, 
 an old rcvoliitiont'i', was recently living, 
 and resided near Frce})ort, in Arm- 
 strong county, Pennsylvania. Though far 
 descended in the vale of life, being nearly 
 an hundred vears old, this excellent old 
 gentleman with his lighted pipe in his 
 hand, his constant companion, never 
 failed to entertain with considerable 
 viviicity, those ^vho called upon him 'or 
 a narration of the " tales of other days."
 
 ' The Indians liave attacked Mr. Stuart's 
 hovse, burnt it, and carried his family into 
 captivity!" were the first words of a 
 breathless woodman as he rushed into a 
 block-house of a village in Western New 
 York, during one of the early border wars. 
 " Up, up — a dozen men should have been 
 on the trail two hours ago," 
 
 '' God help us !" said one of the group, 
 
 a bold frank forester, and with a face 
 
 whiter than ashes, he leaned against the 
 
 wall gasping for breath. Every eye was 
 
 turned on him with sympathy, for he and 
 (280)
 
 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 281 
 
 Mr. Stuart's only daughter, a lovely girl 
 of seventeen, were to be married in a few 
 days. 
 
 The bereaved father was universallv re- 
 spec ted. He was a man of great benevo- 
 lence of heart, and of some property, and 
 resided on a mill-seat he owned, about two 
 miles from the village. His family con- 
 sisted of his eldest daughter and three 
 children. He had been from home, so the 
 runner said, when his house was attacked, 
 nor had his neighbors any intimation of 
 the catastrophe, until the light of the 
 burning tenements awakened the sus- 
 picions of a settler, who was a mile nearer 
 the village than Mr. Stuart, and who pro- 
 ceeded towards the flames, found the 
 house and mills in ruins, recognized the 
 feet of females and children on the trail 
 of Indians. He hurried instantly to the 
 fort, and was the individual who now 
 stood breathlessly narrating the events 
 which we in fewer words have detailed. 
 
 The alarm spread through the village 
 like a fire spreads in a swamp after a 
 
 24*
 
 282 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 
 
 drought, and before the speaker had 
 finished his story, the little block-house 
 was filled with eager and sympathizing 
 faces. Several of the inhabitants had 
 brought their rifles, and others now 
 hurried home to arm themselves. The 
 young men of the settlement gathered, 
 to a man, around Henry Leper, the 
 betrothed husband of Mary Stuart; and 
 though few words were spoken, the 
 earnest grasp of the hand, and the accom- 
 panying looks, assured him that his 
 friends keenly felt for him, and were 
 ready to follow him to the world's end. 
 That party was about to set forth, when 
 a man was seen hurriedly running up the 
 road from the direction of the desolated 
 home. 
 
 " It is Mr. Stuart !" said one of the 
 oldest of the group, " stand back, and let 
 him come in." 
 
 The men parted right and left from the 
 doorway, and immediately the father 
 entered, the neighbors bowing respect- 
 fully to him as he passed. He scarcely
 
 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 
 
 285 
 
 retiirnea their salutation, but advancing 
 direct!}^ to his intended son-in-law, the 
 two niiitually fell into each other's arms. 
 The spectators, not washing to intrude on 
 tlie privacy of their grief, turned their 
 faces away with that instinctive delicacy 
 which is nowhere to be found more often 
 than among those who are thought to be 
 rude borderers ; but they heard sobs and 
 they knew that the heart of the usually 
 collected Mr. Stuart must be fearfully 
 agitated. 
 
 "My friends," said he, at length — "this 
 is kind; I see you know^ my loss, and are 
 ready to march with me ! God bless you !" 
 He could sav no more, for he was choked 
 with emoti(m. 
 
 " Stay back, father," said young Leper, 
 usino: for the first time a name which in 
 that moment of desolation carried SAveet 
 comfort to the parent's heart "you cannot 
 bear the fatigue as well as me — death 
 only w^ill prevent us from bringing back 
 Maiy." 
 
 "I know it — I know it, my son — but I
 
 286 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 
 
 cannot slay here in suspense. No, I will 
 g;) witli you, I have to-day the strength of 
 a dozen men!" 
 
 Tlie fathers who were tliere nodded in 
 assent, and nothing further was said, but 
 hnniediately the party, as if by one 
 impulse, set fortli. 
 
 There was no difficulty in finding the 
 trail of the Indians, al ng which the pur- 
 suers advanced v^'ith a s]^eed incredible to 
 those unused to forest life, and the result 
 of long and severe discipline. But rapid 
 as their inarch was, iioiir after hour 
 elapsed without any signs of savages, 
 though evidence that they passed the 
 route a while before, was continually met. 
 The sun rose high above the heavens 
 until he stood above the tree-tops, then 
 he began slowly to decline, and at length 
 his slant beams could scarcely penetrate 
 the forest; yet there was no appeai-ance 
 of the Indians, and the hearts of the 
 pursuers began to despond. Already the 
 pursuit was useless, for iho boundaries 
 uf the settlers' district had long been
 
 THE INDIAN TKAIL. 28^) 
 
 passed ; they were in the very "heart of 
 the savages' country; and by this time 
 the Indians had probably reached their 
 village. Tet, v>'hen the older men, who 
 ah)ne would venture to suggest a return, 
 looked at the father or the intended son- 
 in-law, young Leper, they could only 
 utter the words which would carry 
 despair to two almost breaking hearts, 
 and so the march was continued. But 
 night drew on, and one of the elders 
 spoke : 
 
 "There seems to be no hope," he said, 
 stopping and, resting his rifle on the 
 ground, " we are far from our families, 
 What would become of the villaiie. if at- 
 tacked in our absence ?" 
 
 This was a question that went to every 
 heart, and by one consent the pai'ty 
 stopped, and many, especially of the 
 older ones, took a step or two involun- 
 tarily homewards. Tlie fatlier and 3'Oung 
 Leper looked at eacli oilier in mute 
 despair. 
 
 "You are light, Jenkins." said the 
 
 25
 
 290 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 
 
 vouiig: man, at lena'th. " It is selfish in 
 us to lead voii so far a^A'av from home 
 on" — and here for an instant he choked — 
 *' on perhaps a fruitless errand. Go 
 back; we thank you for having come 
 so far. But as for me, my way lies 
 ahead, even if it leads into the very 
 heart of an Indian village." 
 
 "And I will follow you!" "And I !'^ 
 exclaimed a dozen voices ; for darins:, in 
 moments like these, carried the day 
 against cooler counsels, and the young 
 to a man, sprang to Leper's side. 
 
 Even the old men were affected by 
 the contagidu. They were torn by con- 
 flicting emotions, no»v thinking of their 
 wives and little ones behind, and now 
 reminded of the suffering captives before. 
 
 Thev still fluctuated, when one of the 
 young men exclaimed in a low voice — 
 
 " See ! there they are !" and as jio 
 spoke he j)ointed to a thin column of 
 lifrht ascending in the twilio-ht above 
 the tree-tops, from the bottom of the 
 valley lying immediately beyond them.
 
 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 29 J 
 
 "On them, on," said Jenkins, now tho 
 Crst to move ahead; "but silently, for 
 the slightest noise will ruin our hopes." 
 
 Oh, how the father's heart thrilled at 
 these words! The evident belief of his 
 neighbors in the uselessness of further 
 pursuits, had wrung his heart, and with 
 Leper he had resolved to go unaided, 
 though meantime he had watched with 
 intense anxiety the proceedings of the 
 councils, for he knew that two men, or 
 even a dozen, would probably be insuffi- 
 cient to rescue the captives. But when 
 his eyes caught the distant light, hope 
 rushed wildly back over his heart. "With 
 the next minute he was foremost in the 
 line of pursuers, apparently the coolest 
 and most cautious of all. 
 
 AYith a noiseless tread the borderers 
 proceeded untill they were within a few 
 yards of the encamped Indians, whom 
 they discovered through the avenue of 
 trees, as the fire flashed up when now and 
 then a fresh brand was thrown upon it. 
 Stealthily creeping forward a few paces
 
 292 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 
 
 further, they discerned the captive girl 
 with her two little brothers and three 
 sisters, bound, a short distance from the 
 group; and at the si.iiht, the fear of the 
 father lest some of his little ones, unable 
 to keep up in the hasty tlight, had been 
 tomahawked, irave wav to a thrill of 
 indescribable joy. He and Jenkins were 
 now by common consent looked on as 
 the leaders of the party. He j^aused to 
 Count the group. 
 
 "Twenty-five in all,'' he said, in a low 
 whisper. " We can take off a third at 
 least with one fire, and then rusli in on 
 them," and he looked to Jenkins who 
 nodded approvingly. 
 
 In hurried whispering the plan of 
 attack was regulated, each having an 
 Indian assianed to his ritie. Durins: 
 this brief pause every heart trembled 
 lest the accidental cracklins: of a twis;, 
 or a tone spoken unadvisedly above a 
 whisper, should attract the attention of 
 the sava2;es. Suddenlv, before all was 
 arranged, one of them sprang to his feet,
 
 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 293 
 
 and looked susjDiciously in the direction 
 of our little party. At the same instant, 
 another sprung toward the prisoners, and, 
 with eyes fixed on the place where the 
 pursuers lay, held his tomahawk above 
 the startled girl, as if to strike the 
 instant anv demonstrations of hostilities 
 should appear. 
 
 The children clung to their sister's 
 side with stitied cries. The moment was 
 critical ; if the proxiuiity of the pursuers 
 was suspected theii' discovery would be 
 the result. To wait until each man 
 had his victim assio-ned liim, miG:ht 
 prove ruinous ; to fire prematurely might 
 be equally so. But Leper forgot every 
 consideration in the peril of Maiy, and 
 almost at the instant when the occuu- 
 rences we have related were taking place, 
 took aim at the sava2;e standing over 
 his betrothed and fired. The Indian fell 
 dead. 
 
 Immediately a yell rang through the 
 
 forest — the savages leaped to their arms, 
 
 a few dashed into the thicket, others 
 
 25*
 
 294 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 
 
 rushed on the prisoners, the most saga- 
 cious retreating behind trees. Bat on 
 that whoop a dozen rifles rang in the air, 
 and half a score of the assailed fell to the 
 earth, while the borderers breaking from 
 the thicket, with uplifted tomahawks, 
 came to the rescue. — A wild hand-to-hand 
 conflict ensued, in which nothing could be 
 seen except the ligures of the combatants, 
 rolling together among the whirling 
 leaves; nothing heard but angry shouts, 
 and the groans of the wounded and 
 dying. In a few minutes the borderers 
 were victorious. 
 
 Leper had been the first to enter the 
 field. — Two stout savages dashed at him 
 with swinging tomahawks, but the knife 
 of Leper found the heart of one, and the 
 other fell stunned by a blow from the butt 
 end of his father's rifle, who folloAved his 
 intended son-in-law a step or two behind. 
 A second's delay would have been too late. 
 
 Fortunately, none of the assailants 
 were killed, though several were seriously 
 wounded. — The suddenness of the attack
 
 THE INDIAN TRAIL. 
 
 295 
 
 may account for the comparative immiinity 
 which thev enioved. 
 
 How shall we describe the gratitude 
 with which the father kissed his rescued 
 childi'en ? How shall we tell the rapture 
 with which Leper clasped his affianced 
 bride to his bosom ? We feel our inca- 
 pacity for the task and drop a veil over 
 emotions too holy for exposure. But many 
 a stout borderer wept at the sight.
 
 
 One of the most remarkable pioneer 
 fights, in the history of the West, was that 
 waged by Captain James Estill, and 
 seventeen of his associates, on the 22d 
 March, 1782, with a party of Wyandot 
 Indians, twenty-live in number. Sixty- 
 three years almost have elapsed since ; 
 yet one of the actors in that sanguinary 
 struggle, Rev. Joseph Proctor, of Estill 
 county, Ky., survived to the 2d December, 
 1844, dying in the full enjoyment of his 
 faculties in the 90th year of his age. His 
 
 wife, the partner of his early privations 
 
 (296)
 
 E:rTILL'b DEFEAT. 297 
 
 and toils, and nearly as old as himself, 
 deceased six months previously. 
 
 On the 19th March, 1782, Indian rafts, 
 without any one on them, were seen Hoat- 
 ing down the Kentucky river, past l^.oons- 
 boroui'h. Intelliixence of this fact was 
 immediately dispatched by Col. Logan 
 to Capt. Estill, at his station fifteen miles 
 from Boonsborough, and near the present 
 site of Kichmond, Kentucky, together with 
 a force of fifteen men, who were directed 
 to march from Lincoln county to Estil's 
 assistance, instructing Captain Estill, if 
 the Lidians had not appeared there, to 
 scour the country with a reconnoitring 
 party, as it could not be known at what 
 point the attack would be made. 
 
 Estill lost not a moment in collecting a 
 force to go in search of the savages ; not 
 doubting, from his knowledge of the 
 Indian character, that they designed an 
 immediate blow^ at his or some neighboring 
 station. From his own and the nearest 
 stations he raised twenty-five men. 
 
 Whilst Captain Estill and his men
 
 298 estill's defeat. 
 
 were on this expedition, the Indians 
 suddenly appeared around his station at 
 the dawn of day, on the 20th of March, 
 killed and scalped Miss Innes, daughter 
 of Captain Innes, and took Munk, a slave 
 of Captain Estill, captive. The Indians 
 immediately and hastily retreated, in con- 
 sequence of a highly exaggerated account 
 which Ma Ilk gave them of the strength 
 of the station, and number of fighting 
 men in it. 
 
 Ko sooner had the Indians com- 
 menced their retreat, than the women 
 in the fort (the men being all absent, 
 except one on the sick list) dispatched 
 two bovs, the late Gen. Samuel South and 
 Peter Hackett, to take the trail of Capt. 
 Estill and his men, and on overtaking 
 them, Q;ive them information of what had 
 occurred at the fort. The boys succeeded 
 in coming up with Cai)t. Estill early on 
 the morning of the 21st, between the 
 mouths of Downing Creek and Eed River. 
 
 After a short search, Capt. Estill's par.y 
 struck the tiaii of the retreating Indiac '
 
 SLAUGHTER OF jnSS IKNBS. 
 
 (299)
 
 Estill's defeat. 301 
 
 It was resolved at once to mal^e pursuit, 
 and no time was lost in doing so. Five 
 men of the party, however, who had 
 families in the fort, feeling uneasy for 
 their safety and unwilling to trust their 
 defence to the few who remained there, 
 returned to the fort, leaving Captain 
 Estill's party, thirty-five in number. 
 These pressed the pursuit of the retreat- 
 ing Indians, as rapidly as possible, but 
 night coming on they encamped near the 
 Little Mountain, now Mount Sterhng. 
 
 Early next morning they quickly pushed 
 forward, being obliged to leave ten of 
 the men behind, whose horses were too 
 jaded to travel further. They had not pro- 
 ceeded far until they discovered by fresh 
 tracks of the Lidians, that they were not 
 far distant. They then marched in four 
 lines until about an hour before sunset, 
 when they discovered six of the savages 
 helping themselves to rations from the 
 body of a bufi'alo, which they had killed. 
 The company was ordered to dismount. 
 
 With the usual impetuosity of Keu- 
 
 26
 
 302 Estill's defeat. 
 
 tuckians, some of the party fired without 
 regarding orders, and the Indians fled. 
 One of the party, a Mr. David Cook, who 
 acted as ensign, excised ingly ardent and 
 active had proceeded in advance of the 
 company and seeing an Indian halt, raised 
 his gun and fired. At that same moment 
 another Indian crossed on the opposite side, 
 and they were both levelled with the same 
 shot. This occurring in view of the 
 whole company, inspired them all with 
 a high degree of ardor and confidence. 
 In the meantime, the main body of the 
 Indians had heard the alarm and re- 
 turned, and the two hostile parties exactly 
 matched in point of numbers, having 
 twentv-five on each side, were now face 
 to face. The ground was highly favorable 
 to the Indian mode of warfare ; but Capt. 
 Estill and his men, without a moment's 
 hesitation, boldly and fearlessly com- 
 menced an attack upon them, and the 
 latter as boldly and fearlessly (for they 
 were picked warriors) engaged in the 
 bloody combat. It is, however, disgrace-
 
 Estill's defeat. 303 
 
 ful to relate that, at the very onset of the 
 action, Lieut. Miller, of Capt. Estill's 
 pai-ty, with six men under his command, 
 'ingloriously fled" from the field, thereby 
 placing in jeopardy the whole of their com- 
 rades, and causing the death of many brave 
 soldiers. Hence, Estill's party numbered 
 eighteen, and the Wyandots twenty-five. 
 
 The flank becoming thus unprotected, 
 Capt. Estill directed Cook with thi-ee men 
 to occupy ^Idler's station, and repel the 
 attack in that quarter, to which this base 
 act of cowardice exposed the whole party. 
 The Ensign and his party were taking the 
 position assigned, when one of them dis- 
 covered an Indian and shot him, and the 
 three retreated to a little eminence whence 
 they thought greater execution could be 
 effected with less danger to themselves, 
 but Cook continued to advance without 
 noticing the absence of his party until he 
 had discharged his gun with eftect, when 
 he immediately retreated, but after running 
 some distance to a large tree for the pur- 
 pose of shelter in firing, he unfortunately
 
 304 Estill's defeat. 
 
 got entangled in the tops of fallen timber 
 and halting for a moment, received a ball 
 which struck him just below the shoulder- 
 blade, and came out below his collar bone. 
 
 In the meantime, on the main field of 
 battle, at the distance of fifty yards, the 
 fight raged with great fury, lasting one 
 hour and three quarters. On either side 
 wounds and death were inflicted, neither 
 party advancing nor retreating. — " Eveiy 
 man to his man, and every man to his 
 tree." Capt. Estill at this period was 
 covered with blood from a wound received 
 early in the action ; nine of his brave com- 
 panions lay dead u[)on the field ; and four 
 others were so disabled by their wounds, as 
 to be unable to continue the fight. Capt. 
 Estill's fighting men were now reduced to 
 four. Among this number was Joseph 
 Proctor. 
 
 Capt. Estill, the brave leader of this 
 Spartan band, was now brought into per- 
 sonal conilict with a i)0\verful and active 
 Wyandot wairior. -The contlict was for a 
 time fierce and desperate, and keenly
 
 CAPTAIN TSTllA^ 
 
 26* 
 
 (805)
 
 fstill's dkfeat. 307 
 
 dad anxioasly watched by Proctor vvitli 
 his finger on the trigger of his uner- 
 ring ritle. Such, however, was the 
 struggle between these tierce and power- 
 ful warriors, that Proctor could not shoot 
 without greatly endangering the safety of 
 his captain. Estill had had his right 
 ai'm broken the preceding summer in an 
 engagement with the Indians ; and, in 
 the conflict with the warrior on this occa- 
 sion, that arm gave way, and in an instant 
 his savage foe buried his knife in Captain 
 Estill's breast; but at the very same 
 moment, the brave Pi'octor sent a ball 
 from his rifle to the Wvandot's heart. 
 The survivors then drew off as by mutual 
 consent. — Thus ended this memorable 
 battle. It wanted nothing but the cir- 
 cuuistauce of numbers to make it the 
 most memorable in ancient or modern 
 limes. The loss of the Indians, in killed 
 and wounded, notwithstanding the dis- 
 parity of numbers after the shameful 
 retreat of Miller, was even greater than 
 that o{ Capt. Estill.
 
 308 Estill's defeat. 
 
 It was afterwards ascertained by 
 prisoners who were recaptured from the 
 "VYyandots, that seventeen of the Indians 
 had been killed and two severely wounded. 
 This battle was fought on the same day, 
 with the disastrous battle of the Blue 
 Licks, March 22d, 1782. 
 
 There is a tradition derived from the 
 Wyandot towns, after the peace, that but 
 one of the warriors engaged in this battle 
 ever returned to his nation. 
 
 It is certain tliat the chief who led on 
 the Wjandots with so much desperation, 
 fell in the action. Throughout this bloody 
 engagement the coohiess and bravery of 
 Proctor were unsurpassed. But his con- 
 duct after the battle has always, with 
 those acquainted with it, elicited the 
 warmest commendation. He brought ofif 
 the held of battle, and most of the way to 
 the station, a distance of forty miles on 
 his back, his badly wounded friend, the 
 late brave Colonel William Irvine, so long 
 and so favorably known in Kentucky.
 
 Mr. E. E. Williams has furnished me 
 with some interesting notes of pioneer 
 adventures. He has been an old hunter, 
 supplying not only liis own family, but 
 the settlements in which he lived — Cin- 
 cinnati among the rest, — with venison 
 and bear meat. He killed the last butialo 
 seen in Kentucky. At the age of seventy- 
 five his bodily and mental powers are 
 
 unimpaired. 
 
 (309)
 
 310 THE PIONEER AND THE PANTHER. 
 
 Well, said this old veteran, after 
 finishing his statistics of Indian warfare, 
 and in reply to other questions, let me 
 tell you a story or two of bears and 
 panthers. 
 
 I was living on a branch of Bigbone, 
 called Panther Eun, from the circum- 
 stance to this day. It was the year after 
 I had been out with General Wayne. I 
 had left home for a deer hunt, with rifle, 
 tomahawk, and butcher knite in my belt 
 as customary ; and scouring about the 
 woods, I came to a thick piece of brush, 
 in short a perfect thicket of hoop-poles. I 
 discovered some dreadful growling and 
 scuffling was going on, by the sound, 
 apparently within a hundred yards or so. 
 I crept as cautiously and silently as pos- 
 sible through the thicket, and kept on 
 until I found myself within, perhaps, 
 twenty steps of two very large male 
 panthers, who were making a desperate 
 light, screaming, spitting and yelling like 
 a couple of ram cats, only much louder, as 
 you may guess.
 
 THE PIONEER AND THE PANTHER. 313 
 
 . At last, one of tlieni seemed to have 
 absolutely killed the other, for he lay 
 quite motionless. This was what I had 
 been waiting for, and while the other was 
 swinging back and forwards over him in 
 triumph, I blazed away, but owing to that 
 motion, I shot him through the bulge of 
 the ribs, a little too far back to kill him 
 instantly. — They are a very hard animal 
 to kill, anyhow. But he made one prodi- 
 gious bound through the bush and cleared 
 himself out of my sight, the ground where 
 we were being quite broken as well as 
 sideling. I then walked up to the other, 
 mistrusting nothing, and was within a 
 yard of him, when he made one spring to 
 his feet and fastened on my left shoulder 
 with his teeth and claws, where he in- 
 flicted several deep wounds. 
 
 I was uncommonly active as well as 
 stout in those days, and I feared neither 
 man nor mortal in a scuffle, but I had 
 hard work to keep my feet under the 
 weight of such a beast. I had my knife 
 
 out in an instant, and put it into him as 
 
 27
 
 314 THE PIONEER AND THE PANTHER. 
 
 fast as possible for dear life. So we tus- 
 sled away, the ground being sideling and 
 steep at that, which increased my trouble 
 to keep from falling ; we gradually worked 
 down-lull till I was forced against a large 
 log, and we both came to the ground, I 
 inside and the panther outside of it, he 
 still keeping hold, although evidently 
 weakening under the repeated digs and 
 rips he was getting. 1 kept on knifing 
 away till I found his h(;l(l slackening, and 
 he let go at last to my great rejoicin ■. 
 
 I got to my feet, made for my rifle, 
 which I had dropped early in the scuffle, 
 got it and ran home. 1 gathered the 
 neighbors with their dogs, and on return- 
 ing found the panthers not more than 
 fifteen rods apart; the one I had knifed 
 dying, and the one I had shot making an 
 effort to climb a tree to the height of eight 
 or ten feet, when he fell and was speedily 
 dispatched. 
 
 Next day I stripped them of their skins, 
 which I sold to a saddler at Lexing- 
 ton for two dollars a piece. You ma»
 
 THE PIONEER AND THE PANTHER. 315 
 
 depend, I never got into such a grip again 
 with a panther. 
 
 The panther referred to in the above 
 story is different from the African panther. 
 It is sometimes called by the hunters a 
 catamount. The naturalists call it puma. 
 It is a large, powerful animal of the cat 
 kind, not spotted like the African panther, 
 but of a lead color above, and white below. 
 It is found in North America, and the 
 northern part of South America.
 
 
 I HAVE given the reader a panther fight 
 in which my old piuneer friend Wiliianis 
 was en2:ao;ed some fifty vears a2:o. One 
 or two adventures with bears, which 
 occurred to him about the same time, will 
 serve at once to diversify this narrative, 
 and afford additional light on the modes 
 of living, in early days of the West. I 
 give the storv almost in his own words. 
 
 (316)
 
 THE PIONEER AND THE BEAR. 317 
 
 My wife was lying at home in her con- 
 finement with her second child, and to 
 lighten our cares the older one, about two 
 years of age, had to be taken home to her 
 grandmother's who lived a matter of two 
 miles off. When my wife was able to be 
 stirring about once more, I went over to 
 fetch the little one, and was returning 
 with it in my arms when it began to 
 cry, and I was so busy trying to quiet 
 it, that I hardly noticed at first the 
 sound of steps and a savage growl- 
 ing behind me. Turning my head 
 around, I saw a great he-bear, one 
 of the largest I ever saw. He was 
 then within a rod of me. As 1 turned, 
 my dog, a large and powerful brute, 
 part bull, part greyhound, turned also; 
 and springing at the bear seized him 
 by the hind leg, to check his progress 
 and favor my escape. 
 
 I made tracks with all the speed I 
 could. The bear would turn on the 
 dog, when the dog would break his hold, 
 
 and the bear would put off again after 
 
 2.7"
 
 B18 THE PIONEER AND THE BEAR. 
 
 me. Again the dog would lay hold, 
 and the bear again turn on him, com- 
 pelling him to let go. In this way I 
 was gaining on him, although exces- 
 sively tired, being obliged to carry the 
 child at arm's length, and a very heavy 
 one it was. 
 
 The child cried the more from being 
 held in so awkward a position, which 
 made the bear more and more savage 
 on my tracks. At last I came in where 
 a path led off througli the brush to my 
 home, and the bear being intent on 
 keeping off the dog, passed it without 
 notice, and I got home safe. I gave 
 the child to its mother, and taking my 
 rifle dow^n, started out after the old ctiss. 
 
 I had hardly got to the road when 
 I met my dog Tory, as I called him, 
 breathless and bloody, having received 
 some pretty severe bruises from the 
 bear. He refused to follow me, and I 
 was obliged to give up the bear-hunt 
 for that time. 
 
 Some time afterwards one of the 
 
 21*
 
 DOOS AKD THE BKAB. 
 
 (319)
 
 THE PIONEER AND THE BEAR. 321 
 
 neighbors reporting he had seen the 
 bear fasten on a large hog, a constant 
 lookout was kept for him in the settle- 
 ment. I was out one evening after 
 deer, when I discovered by the smell 
 that carrion was in the neighborhood ; 
 I watched the crows to see where they 
 would light, and as I got nearer I heard 
 the bear growl, having been absent for 
 water, and on his wav back to the 
 carcass. As soon as I saw hiui I took 
 aim and fired, hit him on the skull, 
 tore off a large stripe over the eye-brow 
 and while he lay stunned, ran up to 
 him within a few feet, fired again, 
 and killed him on the spot. This bear 
 had been a nuisance to the neighborhood 
 for three years, having killed in that 
 space of time between seventy-five 
 and one hundred head of hogs, big and 
 little, besides other domestic animals, 
 some fine calves amono: the rest. 
 
 At another time I was out hunting; 
 one dav, and came on the tracks of a 
 large bear. A light snow on the
 
 322 THE PIONEER AND THE BEAR. 
 
 ground enabled me to follow it up 
 readily, which I did for about half a 
 mile to a large oak, up which at about 
 thirty-five feet high there was a hole 
 sizable enough to let the bear in. 
 As it was winter, I knew that it would 
 stay there some time if undisturbed, 
 and went home to gather some of the 
 neighbors for the hunt. So a few days 
 after, I got two of them, Alexander 
 Herrington and Eichard Shorit, with 
 their dogs. One of the men had a 
 rifle and the other an axe. We found 
 the tree too large and otherwise difficult 
 to climb, being for thirty-five feet with- 
 out a limb ; and we concluded finally to 
 fell a small beech tree against it, by 
 which we could climb up to the hole. 
 
 This was accordingly done, and it 
 lodged safely against the oak. I built 
 a fire to make chunks to throw in the 
 hole, and proposed to the men to go 
 up and get the bear out, which they 
 both refused to attempt. I was unwill- 
 ing to go up myself, having no confi-
 
 THE PIOXEER AND THE BEAR. 323 
 
 deuce in their knowledge of hunting, and 
 fearing they would miss the bear ; but see- 
 ing there was no other way, I took off my 
 mocasons for fear of slipping, and tying a 
 string to a chunk of tire, I gave my rifle 
 to Herrington, and climbed the beech which 
 lay very steep against the hollow tree. 
 When I got to the hole I looked in very 
 cautiously, and after waving the chunk 
 backwards and forwards in the air, to 
 make it burn, held it there, as a light 
 to judge the depth of the bear's retreat. 
 Seeing nothing, however, I dropped the 
 chunk, which, by the sound, appeared 
 to fall twelve or fifteen feet before I 
 heard it strike. 
 
 Presently the bear started up with a 
 grunt like an old sow roused from her lair, 
 and growling awfully, clambered up, snort- 
 ing at a great rate, while I let myself down 
 as fast as possible on the tree by which 1 
 came up. The bear, on getting to the 
 hole, began to poke out her head in every 
 direction to ascertain who and how many 
 were disturbing her.
 
 324 THE PIONEER AND THE BEAR. 
 
 I called out to Shorit to shoot her 
 in the sticking-place ; but he having 
 no experience, hit her en the nose, which 
 only enraged her the more, and down 
 she came, butt foremost, winding the 
 tree round like a squirrel, and nearly 
 as fast, letting go her hold when within 
 a few feet of the earth. As soon as 
 she came to the ground, two of the 
 dogs seized her, but she soon crippled 
 both. Herrington having run off with 
 my rifle as soon as she began to come 
 down, I had to run some distance before 
 I could get it out of his hands, and 
 when I did, the priming had got wet 
 by his carelessness, and the gun w^ould 
 not go off. I then seized a dead limb 
 by way of hand-spike and banged away 
 at the bear to make her let go one of 
 the dogs which she was killing as fast 
 as possible. Two or three blow^s made 
 her let go. 
 
 The creature was so fat and cramped 
 up in the tree that she could hardly move 
 over the ground at first, and giving the
 
 THE PIOXKKR AND THE BEAR. 325 
 
 crippled dogs to the others to carry 
 home, seven or eight miles, I ran to 
 where I had hung my powder horn, and 
 priming afresh, I put on my mocasons 
 and set out after the bear, which had, 
 by this time, got considerable of a start. 
 I run it ten or twelve miles, before I 
 caught up, which I did, by finding the 
 bear, which was fat, had taken to a large 
 hollow beech tree to rest herself, where 
 she lay in the crotch. One crack of the 
 rifle brought her down lifeless. I then 
 butchered her, took the entrails out and 
 left the bear on its belly, spreading out 
 the legs, well knowing that in this posi- 
 tion, nothing in the shape of wild beasts 
 would molest it in the woods. I went 
 home very tired. Next morning my 
 brother and I took horses on which we 
 carried the carcass home 
 
 It weighed three hundred and eighty 
 seven pounds when dressed. 
 
 I have killed in the course of my hunt- 
 ing scrapes rising of twenty bears, of 
 which these were the two largest. 
 
 28
 
 326 
 
 THE PIONEER AND THE BEAR. 
 
 The next time I saw Herrington and 
 Shorit, I told them never to go hunting 
 with me, or I might be tempted to serve 
 them as I had done the bear, and up- 
 braided them with their cowardice, which 
 might have cost me my life. Shorit was 
 from Pomfret, Connecticut, the neigh- 
 borhood where Putnam killed the wolf, 
 and excused himself by saying, he would 
 far rather have gone in after that wolf, 
 than risk the hug of a bear thirty or forty 
 feet from the ground.
 
 m 
 
 W'J-^^ in, 
 
 ^v 
 
 On the Illinois river, near two hundred 
 miles from its junction with the Missis- 
 sippi, there lived in 1812, an old pioneer, 
 known in thcjse da3's as " Old Parker, the 
 squatter." His family consisted of a wife 
 and three children ; the eldest a boy of nine- 
 teen, a girl of seventeen, and the youngest 
 
 (327)
 
 328 MRS. PARKER AND THE INDIANS. 
 
 a boy of fourteen. At the time of which 
 we write, Parker and his oldest boy had 
 gone, in company with three Indians, on a 
 hunt, expecting to be absent some five or 
 six days. — The third day after the depar- 
 ture, one of the Indians returned to Parker's 
 house, came in and sat himself down by 
 the tire, lit his pipe, and commenced 
 smoking in silence. Mrs. Parker thought 
 nothing of this, as it was no uncommon 
 thing for one, or sometimes more, of a party 
 of Indians to return abruptly from a hunt, 
 at some sign they might consider ominous 
 of bad luck, and in such instances were 
 not very communicative. But at last the 
 Indian broke silence with " Ugh, old Par- 
 ker die." This exclamation immediately 
 drew Mrs. Parker's attention, who directly 
 inquired of the Indian, "What's the matter 
 with Parker?" The Indian responded, 
 " Parker sick, tree fell on him, you go he 
 die." Mrs. Parker then asked the Indian 
 if Parker sent for her, and where he was ? 
 The replies of the Indian somewhat 
 aroused her suspicions. She, howevei,
 
 MRS. PARKER AND THE INDIANS. 829 
 
 came to the conclusion to send her son 
 with the Indian to see what was the 
 matter. The boy and the Indian started. 
 That night passed, and the next day too, 
 and neither the boy nor Indian returned. 
 This confirmed Mrs. Parker in her opinion 
 that there was foul play on the part of the 
 Indians. So she and her daughter went 
 to work and barricaded the door and 
 windows in the best way they could. 
 The youngest boy's rifle was the only one 
 left, he not having taken it with him when 
 he went to see after his father. The old 
 lady took the ritle, the daughter the axe, 
 and thus armed, they determined to watch 
 through the night, and defend themselves 
 if necessary. They had not long to wait 
 after nightfall ; for, shortly after that, some 
 one commenced knocking at the door, cry- 
 ing out "Mother, mother;" but Mrs. Parker 
 thought the voice was not exactly like that 
 of her son's. In order to ascertain the fact, 
 she said " Jake, where are the Indians ?" 
 The reply, which was " Um gone," satisfied 
 
 h-er on that point. She then said, as if 
 
 28*
 
 330 MRS. PARKER AND THE INDIANS. 
 
 speaking to her son, " Put your ear to the 
 latch-hole of the door, I want to tell vou 
 something before I open the door." The 
 head was placed at the latch-hole, and the 
 old lady lired her ritle through the same 
 spot, and killed an Indian. She stepped 
 back from the door instantly, and it was 
 well she did so, for, quicker than I have 
 penned the last two words, two rifle bullets 
 came crashing through the door. The old 
 lady then said to her daughter, "Thank 
 God, there is but two ; I must have killed 
 the one at the door: they must be the 
 three who went on the hunt with 3^our 
 father. If we can only kill or crii)ple 
 another one of them, we will be safe ; 
 now we must both be still after they fire 
 again, and they will then break the dooi 
 down, and I may be able to shoot another 
 one; but if I miss them when getting in, 
 you must use the axe." — The daughter 
 e(]ually courageous with her mother, 
 assured her she would. 
 
 Soon after this conversation two mor? 
 rifle bullets came ci'ashing through the
 
 MRS. PARKER AND THE INDIANS. 331 
 
 window. A death-like stillness ensued for 
 about five minutes, when two more balls 
 in quick succession were fired through the 
 door, then followed a tremendous punch- 
 ing with a log, the door gave way, and 
 with a fiendish yell an Indian was 
 about to spring in, when the unerring ritie, 
 fired by the gallant old lady, stretched 
 his lifeless body on the threshold of the 
 door. The remaining, or more properly, 
 the surviving, Indian, fired at random and 
 ran, doing no injury. " Now," said the old 
 heroine, to her undaunted daugliter, " we 
 must leave." Accordingly, with the rifle 
 and the axe, they went to the river, took 
 the canoe, and without a mouthful of pro- 
 vision, except one wild duck and two 
 blackbirds, which the mother shot, and 
 which were eaten raw, did these t\vo cour- 
 ageous hearts in six days arrive among 
 the old French settlers at St. Louis. A 
 party of about a dozen men crossed over 
 into Illinois — and after an unsuccessful 
 search returned without finding: either 
 Parker or his boys. They were never
 
 332 MRS. PARKER AND THE INDIANS. 
 
 found. There are yet some of the old 
 settlers in the neighborhood of Peoria who 
 still point out the spot where " Old Parker, 
 the squatter," lived. 
 
 Such examples of heroism as that ex- 
 hibited by Mrs. Parker on this occasion 
 were by no means unusual in the old 
 pioneer times of the West. The women 
 in those days were accustomed to labor 
 wdth their own hands ; they did not scorn 
 to use the agricultural implements of 
 their husbands and brothers, whenever 
 the emergencies of the season, or the scant 
 supply of labor, made it seem necessary for 
 them to do so. It should occasion us, there- 
 fore, no surprise, when we find them lay- 
 ing down the hoe or the pitchfork, and 
 taking up the rifle for the defence of their 
 homes.
 
 f)
 
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 Los Angeles 
 
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