Glass- Book- f^ SKETCHES OF WESTERN- ADVENTURE CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THE MOST INTERESTING INCIDENTS CONNECTED WITH THE SETTLEMENT OF THE WEST, raOM 1153 X© 1194: WITH AN APPENDIX. REVISED AND CORRECTED, WITH ENGRAVINGS BY JOHN A. M.'OLUNG. DAYTON, OHIO: PUBLISHED BY L. F. CLAFLiN & CO PAYTON" GAZETTE COMPANY, PRINTERS. "^8 5 47^ Em&Nid according' to act of Congress, in the year 183if», BY J, A, JAMES & CO., hi Oie Clerk's OMce of the District Court of Ohio. CONTENTS, Paoi. €HAP. I. Adventures of Colonel James Smith, 9 11. " Daniel Boone, 40 IIL « General Simon Kenton, 80 IV. " General Benjamin Logan, - - - - - - 109 V. «< Colonel William Crawford, « = - ^ * 5 119 VL « John Slover, - - - - - 135 VIL «' Captain Robert Benham, 148 «« « Alexander McConnel, 151 ^ " Robert and Samuel McAfee, 164 " " Bryant and Hogan,- - -» 15S « « McKiniey, .---, 158 < « David Morgan, -- ,.---» 160 « « Adam Poe, 163 Vm. « Mrs. Woods, - - 170 « « Davis, Caflree and McClure, - 171 « « Captain James Ward, 175 «« *' Francis Downing, ----- 176 « « The Widow Scaggs, 179 <»' Incidents attending the desertion of a young white man from a party of Indians, ----- 18S « Adventures of John Merril, 187 IX. " Ward, Calvin and Kenton, - 188 « a Ward, Baker and Kenton, 194 X. « May, Johnston, Flinn and Skyles, - - - 195 XL their prisoners; that it was something like the English •« how d'ye do ?" and that now all ceremony would be laid aside, and he would be treated with kindness. Smith in- quired if they had any news of General Braddock. Tbt Indian replied that their scouts saw him every day from the mountains; that he was advancing in close columnf? through the woods ; (this he indicated by placing a num- ber of red sticks parallel to each other, and pressed closely together;) and that the Indians would be able to shoot them down "like pigeons." Smith rapidly recovered, and was soon able to walk upon the battlements of the fort, with the aid of a stick. While engaged in this exercise, on the morning of the 9th July, he observed an unusual bustle in the fort. Th« Indians stood in crowds at the great gate, armed and painted. Many barrels of powder, ball, flints, &.c. were brought out to them, from which each warrior helped him- self to such articles as he required. They were soo» joined by a small detachment of French regulars, when the whole party marched oif together. He had a full view of them as they passed, and was confident that they could not exceed four hundred men. He soon learned that it was detached against Braddock, who was now with- in a few miles of the fort; but from their great inferiority in numbers, he regarded their destruction certain, and looked joyfully to the arrival of Braddock in the evening, as^the hour which was to deliver him from the power of the Indians. In the afternoon, however, an Indian run- OCT arrived with far different intelligence. The batii^ JAMES SMITH. 13 had not yet ended when he left the field, but he announ- ced that the English had been surrounded, and were shot down in heaps by an invisible enemy; that instead of fly- ing at once, or rushing upon their concealed foe, they appeared completely bewildered, huddled together in th^ center of the ring, and before sundown there would not be a man of them alive. This intelligence fell like a thunderbolt upon Smith, who now saw himself irretrievably in the power of the savages, and could look forward to nothing but torture or endless captivity. He waited anxiously for further intel- ligence, still hoping that the fortune of the day might change. But about sunset, he heard at a distance the well known scalp halloo, followed by wild, quick, joyful shrieks, and accompanied by long continued firing. This too surely announced the fate of the day. About dusk, the party returned to the fort, driving before them twelve British regulars, stripped naked and with their faces paint- ed black ! an evidence that the unhappy wretches were devoted to death. Next came the Indians displaying their bloody scalps, of which they bad immense numbers, and dressed in the scarlet coats, sashes, and military hats of the officers and soldiers. Behind all came a train of baggage horses, laden with piles of scalps, canteens, and all the accoutre- ments of British soldiers. The savages appeared frantic with joy, and when Smith beheld them entering the fort, dancing, yelling, brandishing their red tomahawks, and waving their scalps in the air, while the great guns of the fort replied to the incessant discharge of rifles without, he says, that it looked as if H — 11 had given a holiday, and turned loose its inhabitants upon the upper world. The most melancholy spectacle was the band of prison- ers. They appeared dejected and anxious. Poor fel- lows ! They had but a few months before left London, at the command of their superiors, and we may easily im- agine their feelings, at tne strange and dreadful spectacle around them. The yells of delight and congratulation were scarcely over, when those of vengeance began. The devoted prisoners — British regulars — were led out B 14 WESTERN ADVENTURE. from the fort to the banks of the Allegheny, and to the eternal disgrace of the French commandant, were there burnt to death, one after another, with the most av/ful tor- tares. Smith stood upon the battlements and witnessed the shocking spectacle. The prisoner was tied to a stake with his hands raised above his head, stripped naked, and surrounded by Indians. They would touch him with red hot irons, and stick his body full of pine splinters an^'se-t them on fire, drowning the shrieks of the victim in the yells of delight with which they danced around him. His companions in the mean time stood in a group near the stake, and had a foretaste of what was in reserve for each of them. As fast as one prisoner died under his tortures, another filled his place, until the whole perish- ed. All this took place so near the fort, that every scream of the victims must have rung in the ears of the French commandant! Two or three days after this shocking spectacle, most of the Indian tribes dispersed and returned to their homes, as is usual with them after a great and decisive battle. Young Smith was demanded of the French by the tribe to whom he belonged, and was immediately surrendered in- to their hands. The party embarked in canoes, and ascended the Alle- gheny river, as far as a small Indian town about forty miles above fort Du Quesne. There they abandoned their canoes, and striking into the woods, traveled in a west- ern direction, until they arrived at a considerable Indian town, in what is now the state of Ohio. This village was called Tullihas, and was situated upon the western branch of the Muskingum. During the whole of this period, Smith suffered much anxiety, from the uncertainty of his future fate, but at this town all doubt was removed. On the morning of his arrival, the principal members of the tribe gathered around him; and one old man with deep gravity, began to pluck out his hair by the roots, while the others looked on in silence, smoking their pipes with great deliberation. Smith did not understand the design of this singular JAMES SMITH. 15 eeremony, but submitted very patiently to the man's la- bors, who performed the operation of « picking" him with great dexterity, dipping his fingers in ashes occasionally, In order to take a better hold. In a very few moments Smith's head was bald, with the exception of a single long tuft upon the center of his crown, called the " scalp lock.'' This was carefully plaited in such a manner as to stand upright, and was ornamented with several silver brooches. His ears aiid nose were then bored with equal gravity, and ornam'jnted with ear-rings and nose jewels. He was then ordered to strip; which being done, his naked body was painted in various fantastic colors, and a breech-cloth fastened round his loins. A belt of wampum was then placed arov nd his neck, and silver bands around his right arm. To tAl dais Smith submitted with much anxiety, being totally ig;?^orant of their customs, and dreading lest, like the Britiyh prisoners, he had been stripped and painted for tb^ ytake. His alarm was increased, when an old chief azose, took him by the arm, and leading him out in- to the open air, gave three shrill whoops, and was instant- ly suiTounded by every inhabitant of the village, warriors, women, and children. The chief then addressed the crowd in a long speech, still holding Smith by the hand. When he had ceased speaking, he led Smith forward, and delivered him into the hands of three young Indian girls, who, grappling him without ceremony, towed him off to the river which ran at the foot of the hill, dragged him in the water up to his breast, and all three suddenly clapping their hands upon his head, attempted to put him under. Utterly desperate at the idea of being drowned by these young ladies. Smith made a manful resistance; the squaws persevered; and a prodigious splashing of the water took place, amidst loud peals of laughter from the shore. At length, one of the squaws became alarmed at th© furious struggles of the young whiteman, and cried out earnestly several times, "no hurt you! no hurt youP Upon this agreeable intelligence, Smith's resistance ceas- ed, and these gentle creatures plunged him under the water, and scrubbed him from head to foot with equal zaal 16 WESTERN ADVENTURE. and perseverance. As soon as they were satisfied, they led him ashore and presented him to the chief, shivering with cold, and dripping with water. The Indians then dressed him in a ruffled shirt, leggins, and moccasins, va- riously ornamented, seated him upon a bearskin, and gav>e him a pipe, tomahawk, tobacco, pouch, flint, and steeL The chiefs then took their seats by his side, and smoked for several minutes in deep silence, when the eldest deliv- ered a speech, through an interpreter, in the following words : " My son, you are now one of us. Hereafter, you have nothing to fear. By an ancient custom, you have been adopted in the room of a brave man, v/ho has fallen,* and every drop of white blood has been washed from your veins. We are now your brothers, and are bound b}^ our law to love you, to defend you, and to avenge your injuries, as much as if you were born in our tribe." He was then introduced to the members of the family into which he had been adopted, and was received by the v/hole of them with great demonstrations of regard. In the evening, he received an invitation to a great feast-^, and was there presented with a wooden bov/1 and spoon, and directed to fill the former from a huge kettle of boiled corn, and hashed venison. The evening concluded with a war dance, and on the next morning, the warriors of the tribe assembled, and leaving one or two hunters, to provide for their families in their absence, the rest march- ed off for the frontiers of Virginia. In leaving the vil- lage, the warriors observed the most profound silence, with the exception of their leader, who sung the travel- ing song, as it is called, and when some distance off, they discharged their rifles slowly, and in regular succession, beginning in front, and ending with the rear. As soon as the warriors had left them. Smith v/as invited to a dance, 'in which the Indian boys and young unmarried squaws assembled, and entertained themselves for several hours together. They formed in two lines facing each other, at the distance of about twenty feet. One of the young men held a gourd in his hand, filled with pebbles, or beads, v/hich he rattled in such a manner as to produce music^ and all the dancers singing in concert v/ith their JAiViES SMITti. 17 .eader, moved forward in a line until the parties met; then retired, and repeated the same exercise for hours, without the least variation. Young Smith was merely a spectator in this scene, and his chief entertainment arose from observing the occasional symptoms of gallantry and coquetry which diversified the monotony of the dance. Heads were often bent close together as the two lines met, and soft whispers, ogling glances, and an occasional gentle tap on the cheek, convinced Smith, that Indians are not so insensible to the charms of their squaws as has been represented. An Indian courtship is somewhat difierent from ours. With them, all the coyness, reserve, and pretty delays are con- fined to the gentlemen. The young squaws are bold, forward, and by no means delicate in urging their passion j and a particularly handsome or promising young hunter, is often reduced to desperate extremities, to escape the toils of these female Lotharios! Smith was uniformly treated with the greatest kindness, and was for some time particularly distressed by the pressing invitations to eat, which he received from all quarters. With the Indians, it is uniformly the custom to invite every visitor *o eat, as soon as he enters the wigwam ; and if he refuses, they are much offended, regarding it as an evidence of hostility to them, and contempt for their house keeping. Smith, ignorant of this circumstance, v/as sometimes pressed to eat twenty times in a day, and ob- serving their dark and suspicious glances when he declin- ed their hospitality, he endeavored at length to satisfy them at the risk of stuffing himself to death. Making it a point to eat with all who invited him, he soon found himself in great favor, and in the course of a week after his adoption, an old chief honored him with an invitation to hunt with him. Smith readily consented. At the dis- tance of a few miles from the village, they discovered a number of buffalo tracks. The old Indian regarded them attentively, and followed them with great caution, stop- ping frequently to listen, and rolling his eyes keenly ix\ every direction. Smith, surprised at this singiilar con- duct^ asked him why he did not push on more ra idly, and. 18 WESTERN ADVENTURE. endeavor to get a shot. "Hush!" said the Indian, shak ing his head, " may be buffalo — may be Catawba !" Having at length satisfied himself that they were really buffalo, he pushed on more rapidly, and on the way, as- signed his reasons for his hesitation. He said, that the Catawbas had long been at war with his tribe, and were the most cunning and wicked nation in the world. That a few years ago, they had secretly approached his camp in the night, and sent out a few of their spies, mounted upon buffalo hoofs, who walked round their camp, and then returned to the main body. That, in the morning, he and his warriors, perceiving their tracks, supposed a herd of buffalo to be ahead of them, and moved on rapidly in pursuit. That, they soon fell into the ambuscade, were fired on by the Catawbas, and many of them killed. The Catawbas, however, quickly gave way, and were pursued by his young men with great eagerness. But they had taken the precaution to stick a number of slender reeds m the grass, sharpened like a pen, and dipped in rattle- snake's poison, so that as his young men pursued them eagerly, most of them were artificially snake bitten, and lamed. That the Catawbas then turned upon them, over powered them, and took the scalps of all who had been lamed by the reeds. The old man concluded by shaking his head, and declaring that " Catawba was a very bad In- dian ; a perfect devil for mischief" Smith, however, was so unfortunate a few days after- wards, as to fall into discredit with these simple people. He had been directed to go out and kill some venison for the squaws and children, who had suffered for several days, during the absence of the greater part of the warriors. As this was the first time that he had been intrusted with so weighty a commission alone, he determined to signalize his hunt by an unusual display of skill and enterprise. He, therefore, struck boldly into the woods, and at a few miles distance, falling upon a fresh buffalo trail, he pushed on for several miles with gi-eat eagerness. Despairing, however, of overtaking them, as the evening came on, he began to retrace his steps, and as he had taken a con- siderable circuit, he determined to cut across the hills, and James smith. 19 reach the village by a shorter way. He soon became in- extricably involved in the mazes of the forest, and at dark, found himself completely bewildered. He fired his gun repeatedly, in hopes of being heard, but his signal was unanswered, and he wandered through the woods the whole night, totally unable to find his way home. Early in the morning, the Indians, probably suspecting him for desertion, started out in pursuit of him, but ob- serving the zigzag manner in which the young woodsman had marched, they soon became satisfied of the truth, and their anger was changed to laughter and contempt. Smith's rifle was taken from him, and a bow and arrow (the weapons of a boy) were placed in his hands; and although he was treated v/ith undiminished kindness by all, yet it was evident, that it was mingled with compas- sion and contempt, for his ignorance of the woods. He was now placed under the particular care of Tontileaugo, his adopted brother, and a renowned hunter and warrior. With the aid of his directions, he soon learned all the mysteries of hunting. He trapped beaver, killed deer, bear, and buffalo with great readiness, and in the course of the winter, rose considerably in reputation. The war- riors were still absent, and the women and children de- pended on them entirely for subsistence. Sometimes they were three days without food; particu- larly, when the snow became hard, and the noise which they made in walking on the crust frightened the deer, so that they could not come within gunshot. Their only re- source then, was to hunt bear trees; that is, for large hollow trees in which bears lay concealed during the win- ter. The hole is generally from thirty to fifty feet from the ground, and they are often compelled to climb up and apply fire, in order to drive Bruin out, who obstinately maintains his ground until nearly stifled with smoke, and then sneezing and snuffling, and growling, he shows him- self at the mouth of his hole, for a little fresh air. The hunter stations himself below, and fires upon him as soon as he appears. Towards spring, the warriors generally return, and game is then killed in abundance. We shall here pause in our narrative, to mention some fO WESTERN ADVENTURE, traits of Indian character and manners, which, perhapsr, will be interesting to many of our readers, who have not had opportunities of informing themselves on the subject. The lives of the men are passed in alternate action of the most violent kind, and indolence the most excessive. Noth- ing but the pressing call of hunger will rouse them to much exertion. In the months of August and September, when roasting- ears are abundant, they abandon themselves to laziness, dancing and gaming, and can rarely be roused even to hunt, so long as their corn-fields will furnish them food. During these months they are generally seen lying down in idle contemplation, dancing with their squaws, playing at foot-ball, or engaged in a game resembling dice, of which they are immoderately fond. War and hunting are their only serious occupations, and all the drudgery of life do- volves upon the squaws. Smith gave high offence to the warriors by taking a hoe into his hands, and working with the squaws for half an hour, at a time when they were engaged in planting corn. They reprimanded him with some severity for his industry, observing, that it was de- grading to a warrior to be engaged in labor like a squaw; and for the future he must learn to demean himself more loftily, always remembering that he was a member of a warlike tribe, and a noble family. They are remarkably hospitable, always offering to a stranger the best that they have. If a warrior, upon en* tering a strange wigwam, is not immediately invited to eat, he considers himself deeply affronted, although he may have just risen from a meal at home. It is not enough Oil these occasions that ordinary food, such as venison or hommony, is offered. It is thought rude and churlish, not to set before their guest their greatest delicacies, such as sugar, bear's oil, honey, and if they have it, rum. If there is no food of any kind in the house, which is often the case, the fact is instantly mentioned, and is at once ac- cepted as a sufficient apology. Smith was so unfortunate as to incur some reproach upon this subject also. While he and his adopted brother, Tontileaugo, were encamped in the woods, hunting, tlasr© oune a hunter of the Wyan- JAMES SMITH. 21 dott tribe* who entered their camp, faint and hungry, hav- ing had no success in hunting, and consequently, having fasted for several days. Tontileaugo was absent at the time, but Smith received the visitor v/ith great hospitality, ^as he thought,) and gave him an abundant meal of hommony and venison. Shortly after the Wyandott's departure, his brother, TontileaugOy returned, and Smith informed him of the visit of the stran- ger, and of his hospitable reception. Tontileaugo listened with gravity, and replied : ^- And I suppose, of course, you brought up some of the sugar and bear's oil, which was left below in the canoe?" "No," replied Smith, "I neve? thought of it ; it was at too great a distance." " Welly brother," replied Tontileaugo, "you have behaved just like a Dutchman I I can excuse it in you for this time, as you are young, and have been brought up among the white people ; but you must learn to behave like a warrior, and never be caught in such little actions ! Great actions^ alone, can ever make a great man !^' Their power of sustaining long continued fatigue is as extraordinary. Even their squav/s will travel as fast as an ordinary horse, and pack an incredible quantity of baggage upon their backs. In the spring of 1756, a great quantity of game had been killed, at a considerable dis- tance from the village ; and all the inhabitants, including squaws and boys, turned out to bring it home. Smith was loaded with a large piece of buffalo, w hich, after packing two or three miles, he found too heavy for him, and was compelled to throw it down. One of the squaws laughed heartily, and coming up, relieved him of a large part of it, adding it to her own pack, which before, was equal to Smith's. This, he says, stimulated him to greater exer* tion than the severest punishment would have done. Their warriors, for a short distance, are not swifter than the whites, but are capable of sustaining the exercise for an incredible length of time. An Indian warrior can run for twelve or fourteen hours without refreshment, and after a hasty meal, and very brief repose, appear con>» pletely refreshed, and ready for a second course. Smith found it more difficult to compete with them in this re- 2^ Western adventure. spect, than in any other. For although he ran with great swiftness for a few miles, he could not continue such violent exertion for a whole day. While he and his brother TontileaugOj were encamped at a distance from the others, they were much distressed from having to pack their meat from such a distance, and as three horses were constantly grazing near them, (for there was grass under the snow,) Tontileaugo proposed that they should run them down, and catch them, it having been found impossible to take them in any other way. Smith, having but little relish for the undertaking, urged the impossibility of success. But Tontileaugo re- plied, that he had frequently run down bear^ deer, elk, and buffalo, and believed, that in the course of a day and night, he could run down hnj four*footed animal, except the wolf. Smith observed, that, although deer were swifter than horses for a short distance, yet, that a horse could run much longer than either the elk or buffalo, and that he was confident that they would tire themselves to no purpose. The other insisted upon making the expe- riment, at any rate ; and at daylight, on a cold day in February, and on a hard snov/ several inches deep, the race began. The two hunters stripped themselves to their moccasons, and started at full speed. The horses were in high order, and very wild, but contented them- selves with running in a circle of six or seven miles cir cumference, and would not entirely abandon their usual grazing ground. At ten o'clock. Smith had dropped considerably astern, and before eleven, Tontileaugo and the horses were out o£ sight ; the Indian keeping close at their heels, and al- lowing them no time for rest. Smith, naked as he was, and glowing with exercise, threw himself upon the hard snow^,- and having cooled himself in this manner, he re- mained stationary until three o'clock in the evening, when the horses again came in view, their flanks smoking like a seething kettle, and Tontileaugo close behind them, running with undiminished speed. Smith being now per- fectly fresh, struck in ahead of Tontileaugo, and compelled tho horses to quicken their speed, while his Indian brother JAMES SMITH. 23 from behind, encouraged him to do his utmost, after shout- ing "chako! chokoa-nough ! " (pull away! pull away, my boy!) Had Tontileaugo thought of resting, and committed the chase to Smith alone, for some hours, and then in his turn relieved him, they might have succeeded; but neglecting this plan, they both continued the chase until dark, when, perceiving that the horses ran still with great vigor, they despaired of success, and returned to the camp, having tasted nothing since morning, and one of them at least, having run nearly one hundred miles. Tontileaugo was somewhat crest-fallen at the result of the race, and grum- bled not a little at their long wind ; but Smith assured him that they had attempted an impossibility, and he became reconciled to their defeat. Their discipline, v/ith regard to their children, is not remarkably strict. Whipping is rare with them, and is considered the most disgraceful of all punishments. Ducking in cold water, is the ordinary punishment of mis- behavior; and as might be expected, their children are more obedient in winter than in summer. Smith, during his first v/inter's residence among them, was an eye wit- ness to a circumstance, which we shall relate as a lively example of Indian manners. His brother, Tontileaugo, was married to a Wyandott squaw, who had had several children by a former husband. One of these children of- fended his step-father in some way, who, in requital, gave him the " strappado," with a whip made of buffalo hide. The discipline was quite moderate, but the lad shout- ed very loudly, and soon brought out his Wyandott mother. She instantly took her child's part with great animation. It was in vain that the husband explained the offence, and urged the moderation with >vhich he had inflicted the pua- ishment. All would not do. "The child, she said, was no slave, to be beaten and scourged with a whip. His father had been a warrior, and a Wyandott, and his child was entitled to honorable usage. If he had offended his step-father, there was cold water enough to be had; let him be ducked until he would be brought to reason, aad she would not utter a word of complaint; but a 'buffalo 24 WESTERN ADVENTURE. tug^ was no weapon with which the son of a warrior ought to be struck: his father's spirit was frowning in the skies at the degra^dation of his child." Tontileaugo listened with great cahnness to this indig- nant remonstrance; and having lit his pipe, strolled off, in order to give his squaw an opportunity of becoming cool. The offence however had been of too serious a nature, and his squaw, shortly after his departure, caught a horse, and taking her children with her, rode off to the Wyandott village, about forty miles distant. In the afternoon, Ton- tileaugo returned to his wigwam, and found no one there but Smith, an old man, and a boy. He appeared much troubled at his squaw's refractory conduct, uttered some deep interjections; but finally did as most husbands are compelled to do-— followed her to make his peace. They are remarkably superstitious, and hold their ^^ conjurers '' in great veneration. These dignitaries are generally old and decrepid. On the borders of. Lake Erie, one evening a squaw came running into camp, where Smith, Tontileaugo, and a few others were repos- ing, after a long day's journey, and alarmed them with the information, that two strange Indians, armed with ri- fles, were standing upon the opposite shore of a small creek, and appeared to be reconnoitering the camp. It was supposed they were Johnston Mohawks, and that they would shortly be attacked. Instantly the women and children were sent into the woods, and the warriors retir- ed from the light of the fires, taking their stations silently in the dark, and awaiting the enemy's approach. Manetohcoa, their old conjurer, alone remained by the fire, regardless of the danger, and busily employed in his necromantic art. To assist him in his labors, he had dy- ed feathers, the shoulder blade of a wildcat, and a large quantity of leaf tobacco. Thus accoutered, he conjured away, with great industry, in the light of the fire, and ex- posed to the most imminent danger, in case of an attack, as he was very lame, totally deaf, and miserably rheumatic. After a few minutes anxious expectation, old Manetohcoa called aloud upon his friends to return to the fire, assuring tbem that there was no danger. They instantly obeyed, JAMES SMITH. 25 with the utmost confidence, and their sqiiav>^s and chil- dren were recalled, as if no farther danger was to be apprehended. Upon coming up, they found old Mane- tohcoa enveloped in tobacco smoke, and holding the bone of the wildcat in his hand, upon which his eyes were fix* ed with great earnestness. He told them, after having burnt his feathers, fumiga ted himself with the tobacco, heated his blade bone, and pronounced his charm, that he expected to see a multitude of Mohawks arise upon the surface of the bone; but to his surprise, he saw only the figures of two v/olves! He assured them that the w^oman had mistaken the wolves for Mohawks; and that no enemy was near them. The In- dians instantly composed themselves to rest, relying con- fidently upon the truth of the old man's assertions. In the morning, to Smith's astonishment, the tracks of two wolves were seen at the spot, where the squaw's account had placed the Mohav/ks. The Indians expressed no surprise at this extraordinary confirmation of the old man's skill in divination ; but Smith's infidelity was pow- erfully shaken! Admitting the truth of the facts, (and from Colonel Smith's high reputation for piety and integ- rity, we presume they cannot be questioned,) it must be acknowledged, either an extraordinary instance of saga- city, or else we must class it among those numerous fortu- nate circumstances, w^hich occasionally have staggered the faith of much more learned men than Colonel Smith. Johnson's superstition is well known; and Smith's doubts may at least be pardoned. Their military principles are few and simple, but re- markable for sagacity, and singularly adapted to the character of the v/arfare in which they are generally en- gaged. Caution, perhaps, rather than boldness, is the leading feature of their system. To destroy their ene- my, at the least possible risk to themselves, is their great object. They are by no means, as has been sometimes supposed, destitute of discipline. Their manoeuvres are few, but in performing them, they are peculiarly alert, ready, and intelligent. In fDrming a line, in protecting their flanks, by bodies arranged " en potence," or in form- ;^ WESTERN ADVENTURE. ing a large hollow square, for the purpose of making head against a superior force, they are inferior to no troops in the world. Each movement is indicated by a loud whoop, of peculiar intonation, from their leader, and is irregular ly, but rapidly obeyed. The result is order; although during the progress of the movement, the utmost apparent confusion prevails. Nothing astonished them more, than the pertinacity with which Braddock adhered to European tactics, in the celebrated battle on the banks of the Monongahela. They often assured Smith that the long knives were fools : that they could neither fight nor run away, but drew themselves up in close order, and stood still, as if to give their ene- mies the best possible opportunity of shooting them down at their leisure. Grant's masquerade before the walls of fort Du Quesne, also gave them much perplexity. A venerable Caughnewaughga chief, who had, in his youth, been a renowned warrior and counsellor, and who excell- ed all his cotemporaries in sagacity and benevolence, frequently told Smith, that Grant's conduct was to him totally inexplicable. This general formed the advance of General Forbes in 1777. He marched with great secrecy and celerity through the woods, and appeared upon the hill above Du Quesne in the night. There he encamped, and by way of brava- do, caused the drums to beat, and the bagpipes to play, as if k) inform the enemy of his arrival. At daylight, he was surrounded by Indians, who creeping up, under cover of bushes, gullies, &c., nearly annihilated his army with- out any sensible loss to themselves. The old chief observed, " that as the great art of war consisted in am- bushing and surprising your enemy, and preventing yourself from being surprised, that Grant had acted like a skilful warrior in coming secretly upon them; but that his subsequent conduct in giving the alarm to his enemy, instead of falling upon him with the bayonet, was very extraordinary ; that he could only account for it, by sup- posing that Grant, like too many other warriors, was fond of rum, and had become drunk about daylight." They have the most sovereign contempt for all book JAMES SMITH. 27 learning! Smith was occasionally in the habit of read- ing a few elementary English books, which he had procured from traders, and lost credit among them by his fondness for study. Nothing, with them, can atone for a practical ignorance of the woods. We have seen, that, for losing himself. Smith was degraded from the rank of a warrior, and re- duced to that of a boy. Two years afterwards, he regained his rank, and was presented with a rifle, as a reward for an exhibition of hardihood and presence of mind. In company with the old chief, to whom we have just referred, and several other Indians, he was engaged in hunting. A deep snow was upon the ground, and the weather was tempestuous. On their way home, a num- ber of raccoon tracks were seen in the snow, and Smith was directed to follow them, and observe where they treed. He did so, but they led him off to a much greater dis- tance than was supposed, and the hunters v/ere several miles ahead of him, when he attempted to rejoin them. x\t first their tracks were very plain in the snow, and although night approached, and the camp was distant, Smith felt no anxiety. But about dusk, his situation be- came critical. The weather became suddenly much colder, the wind blew a perfect hurricane, and whirlwinds- of snow blinded his eyes, and filled up the tracks of his companions. He had with him neither a gun, flint, nor steel ; no shelter but a blanket, and no weapon but a tom- ahawk. He plodded on for several hours, ignorant of his route, stumbling over logs, and chilled with cold, until the snow became so deep, as seriously to impede his progress, and the flakes fell so thick, as to render it impossible to fflOe where he was going. He shouted aloud for help, but no answer was returned, and as the storm every instant becaii^e more outrageous, he began to think that his hour had come. Providentially, in stumbling on through the snow, he came to a large sycamore, with a considerable opening on the windward side. He hastily crept in and found the hollow sufliciently large to accommodate him for the night, i£ the weather side could be closed so as to exclude the tB WESTERN ADVEISTUR^. snow and wind, which was beating against it with grealt violence. He instantly went to work with his tomahawk and cut a number of sticks, which he placed upright against the holcj and piled brush against it in great quan- tities, leaving a space open for himself to creep in. He then broke up a decayed log, and cutting it into small pieces, pushed them one by one into the hollov/ of the tree, and lastly, crept in himself. With these pieces, he stopped up the remaining holes of his den, until not a chink was left to admit the light. The snow, drifting in large quantities, was soon banked up against his defen- ces, and completely sheltered him from the storm, which still continued to rage with undiminished fury. He then danced violently in the center of his den for two hours, until he was sufficiently warmed, and wrapping himself in his blanket, he slept soundly until morning. He a.woke in utter darkness, and groping about, he found his door and attempted to push it away, but the snow had drifted against it in such quantitieSj that it re- sisted his utmost efforts. His hair now began to bristle, and he feared that he had, with great ingenuity, contrived to bury himself alive. He laid down again for several hours, meditating upon what he should do, and whether he should not attempt to cut through the tree with his tomahawk; but at length he made one more desperate ef- fort to push away the door, and succeeded in moving it several inches, when a great bank of snow fell in upon him from above, convincing him at once of the immense quantity which had fallen. He at length burrowed his way into the upper air, and found it broad day light, and the weather calm and mild. The snow lay nearly four feet deep; but he was now enabled to see his way clear- ly, and by examining the barks of the trees, was enabled to return to camp. He was received with loud shouts of joy and congratu- lation, but not a single question was asked until he had despatched a hearty meal of venison, hommony, and sugar. The old chief, Tecaughnetanego, whom we have already mentioned, then presented him with his own pipe, and they all remained silent until Smith had smoked. When they JAMES SMITH. 29 saw him completely refreshed, the venerable chief ad- dressed him in a mild and affectionate manner, (for Smith at that time, v/as a mere boy with them,) and desired to hear a particular account of the manner in which he had passed the night. Not a word was spoken until Smith concluded his story, and then he was greeted on all sides with shouts of approbation. Tecaughnetanego arose and addressed him in a short speech, in which his courage, hardihood, and presence of mind, were highly commended. He was exhorted to go on as he had begun, and assured, that one day he would make a very great manj that all his brothers rejoiced in his safety, as much as they had lamented his supposed death; that they were preparing snow shoes to go in search of him when he appeared; but as he had been brought up effeminately among the whites^ they never expected ta see him alive, la conclusionj he was promoted from the rank of a boy to that of a warrior, and assured, that when they sold skins in the spring, at Detroit, they would pur- chase for him a new rifle. And they faithfully obs^erved their promise. They are extravagantly fond of rum;; but driii^kii^g does not with them, as with the whites^ form a part of the reg- ular business of life. They occasionally indulge in a wild and frantic revel, which sometimes lasts several days, and then return to their ordinary habits. They cannot husband their liquor^ for the sake of prolonging the pleas- ure of toping. It is used with the most reckless profu- sion while it lasts, and all drink to beastly intoxication. Their squav/s are as fond of liquor as the warriors, and share in all their excesses. After the party to which Smith belonged, had sold their beaver skins, and provided themselves with ammunition and blankets, all their surplus cash was expended in rum, which was bought by the keg. They then held a coun- cil, in which a few strong bodied hunters were selected to remain sober, and protect the rest during the revel, for which they were preparing. Smith was courteously in- vited to get drunk, but upon his refusal, he was told that he must then join the sober party, aad assist in keeping order. 80 WESTERN ADVENTURE. This, as he quickly found, was an extremely dangerous office; but before engaging in the serious business of drinking, the warriors carefully removed their tomahawks and knives, and took every precaution against bloodsheds A shocking scene then conmienced. Rum was swallowed in inmiense quantities, and their wild passions were stim- ulated to frenzy! Smith and the sober party, were ex- posed to the most imminent peril, and were compelled to risk their lives every moment. Much injury was done, but no lives were lost. In the Ottawa camp, where the same infernal orgies were celebrated, the result was more tragical. Several warriors were killed on the spot, and a number moi:e wounded. So long as they had money, the revel was kept up day and night, but when their funds were ex- hausted, they gathered up their dead and wounded, and with dejected countenances, returned to the wilderness. All had some cause of lamentation. The blanket of one had been burnt, and he had no money to buy another; the fine clothes of another had been torn from his back; some had been maimed; and all had improvidently wasted thek money. The religion of the Indians, although defaced by super- stition, and intermingled with many rites and notions which to us appear absurd, contains, nevertheless, a dis- tinct acknowledgment of the existence of a Supreme Be- ing, and a future state. The various tribes are represent- ed by Dr. Robertson as poly theists -^ and Mr. Hume con- siders polytheism as inseparably attendant upon the sav- age state. It appears, however, that the western Indians tfcpproached more nearly to simple deism^ than most savage nations with whom we have been heretofore acquainted* One ^reat Spirit is universally worshipped throughout the West; although different tribes give him different names. In the immense prairies of the West, he is gen- erally termed the Wahcondah, or master of life. With the Indians of the lakes, he was generally termed Manit- to, which we believe means simply "The Spirit!" In the language of Smith's tribe he was known by the title of "Owaneeyo," or the possessor of all things. JAMES SMlth. 31 Human sacrifices are very common among the tribes living west of the Mississippi; but I have seen no evi- dence of such a custom among those of the North- vi^esti Tecaughnetanego, the veteran chief whom we have aU ready mentioned, was esteemed the wisest and most venerable of his own nation; and his religious opinions, perhaps, may be regarded as a very favorable sample of Indian theology. We shall take the liberty of detailing several conversations of this old chief, particularly upon religious subjects, which to us, were the most interesting passages of Smith's diary; growing, as they did, out of a situation, which required the exercise of some philoso- phy, and reliance upon Providence, We have ?Jready adverted to the precarious nature of the Indian supplies, of food, dependant as they are, upon the woods for tkeir meat, and liable to frequent failures from the state of the weather, and other circumstances over which they have no control. It so happened that Smith, together with Tontileau» go and the old chief, Tecaughnetanego, were encamp- ed at a great distance from the rest of the tribe, and during the early part of the winter, they were very suc- cessful in hunting, and were abundantly supplied with all necessaries. Upon the breach between Tontileaugo and his wife, however. Smith and the old chief were left in the woods, with no other company than that of Nungany^, a little son of the latter, not more than ten yeai*s old. Tecaughnetanego, notwithstanding his age, (which ex- ceeded sixty,) was still a skilful hunter, and capable of great exertion when in good health; but, unfortunately, was subject to dreadful attacks of rheumatism, during which, in addition to the most excruciating pain, he was incapable of moving his limbs, or helping himself in any way. Smith was but a young hunter, and Nungany to- tally useless except as a cook; but while Tecaughnetanego retained the use of his limbs, notwithstanding the loss of Tontileaugo, they killed game very abundantly. About the middle of January, however, the weather be- came excessively cold, and tha old chief was stretched upon the floor of his wigwam, totally unable to move^ a2 WESTERN ADVENTURE. The whole care of the family now devolved upon Smith, and his exertions were not wanting. But from his youth and inexperience, he was unable to provide as plentifully as Tontileaugo had done, and they were reduced to very short allowance. The old chief, notwithstanding the ex- cruciating pain which he daily suffered, always strove to entertain Smith, at night, with agreeable conversation, and instructed him carefully and repeatedly in the art of /lunting. At length the snow became hard and crusty, and the noise of Smith's footsteps frightened the deer, so that, with the utmost caution he could use, he was unable to get within gunshot. The family, in consequence, were upon the eve of starvation. One evening. Smith entered the hut, faint and weary, after a hunt of two days, during which he had eaten noth ing. Tecaughnetanego had fasted for the same length of time, and both had been upon short allowance for a week. Smith came in very moodily, and laying aside his gun and powder horn, sat down by the fire in silence. Te- caughnetanego inquired mildly and calmly, what success he had had. Smith answered that they must starve, as the deer were so wild that he could not get within gunshot, and it was too far to go to any Indian settlement for food. The old man remained silent for a moment, and then in tiie same mild tone, asked him if he was hungry ? Smith replied, that the keen appetite seemed gone, but that he felt sick and dizzy, and scarcely able to walk. '^ I have made Nungany hunt up some food for you, brother," said the old man kindly, and bade him produce it. This food was nothing more than the bones of a fox and wildcat, which had been thrown into the woods a few days before and which the buzzards had already picked almost bare. Nungany had collected and boiled them, until the sin ews were stripped of the flesh, intending them for himself and father, both of whom were nearly famished j but the old man had put them away for Smith, in case he should again return without food. Smith quickly threw himself upon this savoury soup, and swallowed spoonful after spoon ful, with the voracity of a wolf. Tecaughnetanego waited patiently until he had finished his meal, which continued JAMES SMITH. 33 antii the last spoonful had been swallowed, and then handing him his own pipe, invited him to smoke. Little Nungany, in the mean time, removed the kettle, after looking in vain for some remnant of the feast for his own supper. He had watched every mouthful which Smith swallowed with eager longing, but in perfect silence, and tinding, that for the third night, he must remain supper • less, he sat down quietly at his father's feet, and was soon asleep. Tecaughnetanego, as soon as Smith had smoked, asked him if he felt refreshed ; and upon receiving an animated assurance in the affirmative, he addressed him mildly as follows : "I saw, my brother, when you first came in, that you had been unfortunate in hunting, and were ready to despair. I should have spoken at the time, v/hat I am now about to say, but I have always observed, that hun^ gry people are not in a temper to listen to reason. You are now refreshed, and can listen patiently to the words of your elder brother. I was once young like you, but am now old. I have seen sixty snows fall, and have often been in a worse condition, from w^ant of food, than we now are J yet I have always been supplied, and that, too, at the very time when I was ready to despair. Brother: you have been brought up among the whites, and have not had the same opportunities of seeing how wonderful- ly Owaneeyo provides food for his children in the woods! He sometimes lets them be in great want, to teach them that they are dependant upon him, and to remind them of their own weakness; but he never permits them absolutely to perish. Rest assured that your brother is telling you no lie; but be satisfied that he will do as I have told you. Go now: sleep soundly; rise early in the morning and go out to hunt; be strong and diligent; do your best, and trust to Owaneeyo for the rest.'' When we recollect that this admirable speech came from a wild Indian, totally uninstructed, and untaught to restrain his passions ; that at the very time, he was suffep- ing the most excruciating pain, both from disease and hunr ger; that he had denied himself a morsel of food, in orddir to bestow it upon Smith; and, lastly^ that from the state of 34 WESTERN ADVENTURE, the snow and Smith's inexperience, he had no human pros- pect of relief; it is no exaggeration to say, that a more striking example of wisdom, mildness, and magnanimity, was never exhibited. Smith was powerfully struck by the old man's reason- ing; and still more affected by the patience and firmness with which he sustained himself, under the complicated suffering with which he was visited. In the morning, at daylight, he seized his gun, and commenced the duties of the day with great spirit. He saw a great many deer, but the crashing of the crust alarmed them as heretofore; and after hunting until noon without success, he began to suspect that Tecaughnetanego must have been mistaken, and that they were certainly destined to starve. His hunger seemed rather whetted than allayed by his sump- tuous repast upon wildcat bones, the evening before, and now became so ravenous as to divest him of all reason, and he determined to run back to Pennsylvania. True, the intervening country was crowded with hostile Indians, but the edge of the tomahawk was not keener than that of hunger; and a sharp and quick death, infinitely prefer- rable to the slow and torturing ravages of starvation. Having hastily adopted this desperate resolution, he quickened his pace, and moved off steadily in the direction of Pennsylvania. He had not gone more than seven or eight miles, before he heard the lowing of buffalo in front, und in a few minutes, came in view of a noble herd, march- ing leisurely ahead of him. He ran with great rapidity in such a direction as to head them, and concealing himself in a thicket, awaited their approach. They passed leisurely within a few yards of him, so that he had an opportunity of selecting a fat heifer, which he killed at the first fire. He quickly struck fire from his flint — and cutting a few slices from the fleshiest part, he laid it upon the coals, but could not wait until it was done. After gorg- ing himself with raw beef, which (with the exception of the wildcat bones of the preceding night,) he thought the most delicious food he had ever tasted, he began to be tenderly concerned for the old man and little boy, whom be bad left in a famishing condition, at the wigwam. JAMES SMITH. ^ His conscience reproached him for leaving them to per- ishj and he instantly loaded himself heavily with the fat- test and fleshiest pieces, and having secured the rest from the wolves, returned to their camp, with as much expedi- tion as he. could exert. It was late at night when he en- tered the wigwam. Tecaughnetanego received him with the same mild equanimity which had heretofore distin- guished him, and thanked him very affectionately for the exertions which he had used, while the eyes of the fam- ished boy were fastened upon the beef as if he would de- vour it raw. His father ordered him to hang on the ket- tle and cook some beef for them all j but Smith declared that he himself would cook for the old man, while Nun- gany broiled some meat upon the coals for himself. The boy looked eagerly at his father for his consent, and re- ceiving a nod in reply, he sprung upon the meat as a kite would pounce upon a pullet, and unable to wait for the slow operation of the fire, began to eat it raw. Smith in the mean time had cut several very thin slices and placed them in the kettle to boil; but supposing Te- caughnetanego as impatient as himself, he was about to take it off the fire after a very few minutes, when the old man, in a tone as calm and quiet as if he had not fasted fcr three whole days, desired him to "let it be done enough." At the same time he ordered Nungany, who was still eating like a shark, to take no more at present, but to sit down J and after a few minutes he might sup a little broth. The old man then reminded Smith of their conversation the night before ; and of the striking truth with which his assurance of Owaneeyo's goodness had been accomplished. At length he desired Smith to give him the beef, observing that it had been boiled enough; and, as if he had reserved all his vigor for that moment, he assaulted it with a keenness and perseverance, which showed that the gifts of Owaneeyo were not thrown away In the morning, Tecaughnetanego requested Smith to return to the spot where he had killed the buffalo, and bring in the rest of it to camp. He accordingly took down his rifle and entered the wood, intending to hunt on the road. At the distance of a few miles from ^6 WESTERN ADVENTURE. camp, he saw a large elm, which had been much scratched, and perct;iVing a hole in it at the distance of forty feet from the ground, he supposed that a bear had selected it for his winter quarters, and instantly determined to rouse him from his slumbers. With his tomahawk, he cut down a sapling which grew near the tree, in such a manner a& to lodge it against the den. He then cut a long pole, and tied a few bunches of rotten wood to the end of it. Taking it then in his hand, he climbed the sapling, until he reached the mouth of the den, and setting fire to the rotten wood, put it into the hollow as far as he could reach. He soon had the gratification of hearing poor Bruin sneeze and cough, as if in great trouble; and rap- idly sliding down the sapling, he seized his gun at the moment the bear showed himself. He instantly shot him, and having loaded himself with the hind quarters, he marched back in high spirits to the wigwam. They were now well provided for a week; and in a few days the snow thawed so much as to enable him to kill deer; so that during the rest of the winter, they fared sumptuoush/. Early in April, Tecaughnetanego's rheumatism abated so much as to permit him to v^alk, upon which, they all three built a bark canoe, and descended the Ollentangyj until the water became so shallow as to endanger their frail bark among the rocks. A council was then held, in which Tecaughnetanego proposed to go ashore, and pray for rain to raise the creek or river so as to enable them to continue their journey. Smith readily consented, and they accordingly disembarked, drawing their canoe ashore after them. Here the old Indian built a "sweating house,'^ in order to purify himself, before engaging in hig religious duties. He stuck a number of semicircular hoops in the ground, and laid a blanket ov^r them. He then heated .a number of large stones, and placed them under the blanket, and finally crawled in himself, with a kettle of water in his hand, directing Smith to draw down the blanket after him, 80 as almost entirely to exclude the external air. He then poured the water upon the hot stones, and began to fiiog aloud wilk great energy, the steam rising from th^ JAxMES SMITH. g7 blanket like a heavy mist. In this hot place he continued for Mteen minutes, singing tlie whole time, and then came out dripping with perspiration from iiead to foot. As soon as he had taken breath, he began to burn tobacco, throw- ing it into the fire by handfuls, and at the same time re- peating the following v/ords in a tone of deep and solemn earnestness : "Oh Great Owanee^/ol I thank thee that I have re- gained the use of my legs once more; that I am now able to walk about and kill turkeys, without feeling exquisite pain. Oh! ho! ho! ho! Grant that my knees and ankles may be right well, that I may be able not onrv' to v/alk, but to run and to jump logs, as I did last fall! Oh! ho! ho! ho! Grant that, upon this voyage we may frequently kill bears as they may be crossing the Sandusky and Sci- oto ! Oh ! ho ! ho ! ho ! Grant that v»' e ma^v also kill a few turkeys to stew with our beards meat! Oh! ho! ho! ho! Grant that rain may come to raise the Ollentangy a fev/ feet, that we may cross in safety down to Scioto, v/ith- out splitting our canoe upon the rocks. And no v/, O Great Owaneeyo! thou knowest how fond I am of tobacco, and though I do not know when I shall get any more, yet you see that I have freely given up all I have for a burnt- offering; therefore, I expect that thou wilt be merciful and hear all my petitions; and I, thy servant, will thank thee, and love thee for all thy gifts.'' Smith held the old chief in great veneration, and has observed, that he never in his life listened to a man v/ho reasoned more clearly and powerfully upon such subjects as came before him; and he heard the first part of his prayer with great respect and due graYiiy; but when the attention of Owaneeyo was called to the tobacco, which his votary bestov/ed upon him. so liberally, his muscles gave way, and in spite of his efibrts to restrain himself, he burst into a low and half stifled laugh. Ridicule is at all times formidable, but particularly so in a moment of enthusiasm and sincere devotion. Tecaughnetanego Vv'as deeply and seriously offended, and rebuked his young companion in the following words : "Brother, I have somewhat to say to you! When you D 38 WESTERN ADVENTURE. were reading your books in our village, you know I would not let the boys plague you, or laugh at you, although we all thought it a foolish and idle occupation in a warrior. I respected your feelings then; but just now I saw you laughing at me! Brother, I do not believe that you look upon praying as a silly custom, for you sometimes pray yourself. Perhaps you think my mode of praying foolish, but if so, would it not be more friendly to reason with me, and instruct me, than to sit on that log and laugh at an old man?'' Smith apologized with great earnestness, declaring that he respected and loved him sincerely, but that when he saw him throw the last of his tobacco into the fire, and recollected how fond he was of it, he could not help smil- ing a little, although for the future he would never have reason to complain of him on that account. The old man, without saying a word, handed him his pipe as a token of friendship, although it was filled only with willow bark ^ and the little difference was soon forgotten. Smith then explained to him the outlines of the Chris- tian religion, and dwelt particularly upon the doctrine of reconciliation through the atonement of Christ. Tecaugh- netanego listened with patience and gravity until his companion had ended his remarks, and then calmly observ- ed, that "it might he soP'^ He even acknowledged, " that it did not appear so absurd, as the doctrine of the Romish priests, which he had heard at Detroit, but declared that he was too old now to change his religion ; that he should, therefore, continue to worship God after the manner of his fathers ; and if it was not consistent with the honor of the Great Spirit to accept of him in that way, then he hoped that he would receive him upon such terms as were acceptable to him ; that it was his earnest and sincere de- sire to worship the Great Spirit, and obey his wishes ; and he hoped that Owaneeyo would overlook such faults as arose from ignorance and weakness, not willful neglect.'' To a speech of this kind, the sentiments of which find an echo in almost every breast. Smith could make no reply. Here, therefore, the subject ended. A few days afterward, there came a fine rain, and the JAMES SMITH. S9 Olienlangy was soon sufnciently deep to admit of their passage in safety, and after reaching the Sandusky they killed four bears and a great many wild turkeys. Te- caughnetanego gravely assured Smith, that this was a clear and direct answer to his prayer, and inferred from it, that his religion could not be as unacceptable to Owanee- yo as Smith supposed. Perhaps it would be difficult to disprove the first part of the old Indian's observation : th last is more questionable. We have already gleaned all the most interesting parts of Smith's narrative, for the long details of huntings, trappings, and migrations, without particular object or in- cident, v/ould scarcely be interesting to the reader. We have endeavored to select such circumstances, as would give the general reader a lively idea of the habits and opinions of the western Indians, without burdening our narrative with too much detail. As most, if not all the subsequent adventures, v/ill have a close connection with Indian life, it was thought proper to commence with a narrative which should throv/ some light upon that subject. It is only necessary, further, to observe, that in the sum^ mer of 1759, and in the fourth year of his captivity or rather adoption, Smith, accompanied by Tecaughnetanego and Nungany, sailed in a bark canoe dovfn the St. Law- rence, as far as Montreal. Here he privately left his Indian companions, and went on board a French transport, which he had heard was about to sail, with a number of English prisoners on board, in- tended to be exchanged. After having been detained some time in Montreal, in consequence of the English fleet being below, he v»^as at length exchanged and return- ed to his native country. His family and sweetheart received him v/ith great joy; but to his inexpressible mortification, the latter had been married only a few days before his arrival. His subsequent adventures, although novel and interesting, do not properly come v/ithin the range of our present subject. We refer the reader, who may desire to know more, to Colonel Smith's own narra- tive, which has recently been reprinted by John Grigg of Philadelphia. 40 WESTERX^ ADVENTURS. CHAPTER 11. The adventures 5 which in order of time^ should come next, are those of the celebrated Daniel Boone; for of FiNDLEY, said to be the iirst white man who ever visited Kentucky, nothing is known, but the simple fact that he fid! visit it, iirst alone, and afterwards in company with Boone. It is much to be regretted, that the materials for a sketch of Boone are so scanty. He has left us a brief account of his adventures, but they are rather such as one would require for the composition of an epitaph, than of a biography. The leading incidents are mentioned in a general way, and there are some gaudy and ambitious sketches of scenery which swell the bulk of the piece, without either pleasing the imagination or gratifying the curiosity. It would seem that the brief notes of the plain old woodsman, had been committed to some young sciolist in literature, who thought that Hashy description could atone for barrenness of incident. A general summary of remarkable events, neither ex- cites nor gratifies curiosity, like a minute detail of all the circumstances connected with them. This trait, so essen- tial to the interest of narratives, and of which perhaps the most splendid example in existence, has been given in Mr. Cooper's " Last of the Mohicans," is deplorably wanting in most of the materials to which v/e have haa access. A novelist may fill up the blank from his own imagination; but a v/riter who professes to adhere to truth, is fettered down to the record before him. If, therefore, in the following details, we should be found guilty of the unpardonable sin of dullness, we hope that at least a por- tion of the blame will fall upon the scantiness of the ma- terials. Of Mr. Boone's early youth, nothing is known. He has modestly forborne to say any thing of himself, except so far as he is connected with the settlement of Kentucky. He was born in Virginia; but instigated by that roving spirit which distinguished him throughout life, he emigra DAHIEL BOONE, 41 ted at an early period to North Carolina, and iive^ mtil his fortieth year upon the banks of the Yadkin, in /67 Findley returned from his adventurous journey^ and brought with him a report of a large tract of fertile coun- try, totally unoccupied, and abounding in every variety of game, from the beaver to the buffalo. To a man like Boone, fond of hunting, and naturally attached to a roving and adventurous life, such a scene presented irresistible charms. Accordingly, in 1769, he left his family upon the Yadkin, and in company with five others, of whom Findley was one, he moved in a v/estern direction, being determined to explore that country of v/hich he had heard so favorable an account. On the 7th of June they reached Red river, and from a neighboring eminence were enabled to survey the vast plain of Kentucky. Here they built a cabin, in order to afford them a shelter from the rain which had fallen in immense quantities on their march, and remained in a great measure stationary until December, killing a great quantity of game immediately around them. Immense herds of buffalo ranged through the forest in every direc- tion, feeding upon the leaves of the cane or the rich and spontaneous fields of clover. On the 22d of December, Boone and John Stuart, one of his companions, left their encampment, and follov>^ing one of the numerous paths which the buffalo had made through the cane, they plunged boldly into the interior of the forest. They had as yet seen no Indians, and the country had been reported as totally uninhabited. This was true in a strict sense, for although the southern and northwestern tribes were in the habit of hunting here as upon neutral ground, yet not a single wigwam had been erected, nor did the land bear the slightest mark of having ever been cultivated. The different tribes v/ould fall in with each other, and from the fierce conflicts which generally followed these casual rencounters, the country had been knov/n among them by the name of " the dark and bloody ground P^ The two adventurers soon learned the addi- tional danger to which they were exposed. While roving carelessly from canebrake to canebrake, and admirinjgf the 43 WESTERN ADVENTURE^ rank growth of vegetation, and the variety of timber which marked the fertility of the soil, they were suddenly alarmed by the appearance of a party of Indians, who, springing from their place of concealment, rushed upon them with a rapidity which rendered escape impossible. They were almost instantly seized, disarmed, and made prisoners. Their feelings may be readily imagined. They were in the hands of an enemy who knew no alter- native between adoption and torture ; and the numbers and fleetness of their captors, rendered escape by open means impossible, while their jealous vigilance seemed equally fatal to any secret attempt. Boone, however, was pos^ sessed of a temper admirably adapted to the circumstan- ces in which he was placed. Of a cold and saturnine, rather than an ardent disposition, he was never either so much elevated by good fortune or depressed by bad, as to lose for an instant the full possession of all his faculties. He saw that immediate escape was impossible, but he encouraged his companion, and constrained himself to ac- company the Indians in all their excursions, with so calm and contented an air, that their vigilance insensibly be- gar io relax. On the seventh evening of their captivity, they en- camped in a thick canebrake, and having built a large fire, lay down to rest. The party whose duty it was to watch, were weary and negligent, and about midnight^ Boone, who had not closed an eye, ascertained from the deep breathing all around him, that the whole party, in- eluding Stuart, was in a deep sleep. Gently and gradu- ally extricating himself from the Indians who lay around him, he walked cautiously to the spot where Stuart lay, and having succeeded in awakening him, without alarming the rest, he briefly informed him of his determination, and exhorted him to arise, make no noise, and follow him. Stuart, although ignorant of the design, and suddenly roused from sleep, fortunately obeyed with equal silence and celerity, and within a few minutes they were beyond hearing. Rapidly traversing the forest, by the light of the stars and the barks of the trees, they ascertained the direction DANIEL BOONE. 43 in which the camp lay, but upon reaching it on the next day, to their great grief, they found it plundered and de- serted, with nothing remaining to show the fate of their companions: and even to the day of his death, Boone knew not whether they had been killed or taken, or had voluntarily abandoned their cabin and returned. Here, in a few days, they were accidentally joined by Boone's brother and another man^ who had followed them from Carolina, and fortunately stumbled upon their camp. This accidental meeting in the bosom of a vast wilderness, gave great relief to the two brothers, although their joy was soon overcast. Boone and Stuart, in a second excursion, were again pursued by savages, and Stuart was shot and scalped, while Boone fortunately escaped. As usual, he has not mentioned particulars, but barely stated the event. Within a few days they sustained another calamity, if possible, still more distressing. Their only remaining companion was benighted in a hunting excursion, and while encamped in the woods alone, was attacked and devoured by the wolves. The two brothers v/ere thus left in the wilderness, alone, separated by several hundred miles from home, surround ed by hostile Indians, and destitute of every thing but their rifles. After having had such melancholy experi- ence of the dangers to v/hich they were exposed, we would naturally suppose that their fortitude would have given way, and that they would instantly have returned to the settlements. But the most remarkable feature in Boone's character, was a calm and cold equanimity which rarely rose to enthusiasm, and never sunk to despond- ence. His courage undervalued the danger to which he was exposed, and his presence of mind, v»^hich never forsook him, enabled him, on all occasions, to take the best means of avoiding it. The wilderness, with all its dangers and privations, had a charm for him, which is scarcely con- ceivable by one brought up in a city; and he determined to remain alone, while his brother returned to Carolina for an additional supply of ammunition, as their original supply was nearly exhausted. His situation we should 44 WESTERN ADTEI^TURE. now suppose in the highest degree gloomy and dispiriting. The dangers which attended his brother on his return were nearly equal to his ov/n; and each had left a wife and children, which Boone acknowledged cost him many an anxious thought. But the wild and solitary grandeur of the country around him, where not a tree had been cut, nor a house erected, was to him an inexhaustible source of admiration and delight; and he says himself, that some of the most rapturous moments of his life were spent in those lonely rambles. The utmost caution was necessary to avoicJ the savages, ^^nd scarcely less to escape the ravenous hunger of the wolves that prowled nightly around him in immense numbers. He was compelled frequently to shift his lodging, and by undoubted signs, saw that the Indians had repeatedly visited his hut during his absence. He sometimes lay in canebrakes, without fire, and heard the yells of the Indians around him. Fortunately, however^ he never encountered them. On the 27th of July, 1770, his brother returned with a supply of ammunition 5 and with a hardihood, which ap- pears almost incredible, they ranged through the country in every direction, and without injury,, until March, 1771 , They then returned to North Carolina, where Daniel re- joined his family, after an absence of three years, during nearly the whole of which time he had never tasted bread or salt, nor seen the face of a single white man, with the exception of his brother, and the two friends who had been killed. He here determined to sell his farm, and remove, with his family, to the wilderness of Kentucky; an astonishing instance of hardihood, and we should even say indifference to his family, if it were not that his char- acter has uniformly been represented as mild and humane, as it 'was bold and fearless. ' Accordingly, on the 25th of September, 1771, having disposed of all the property which he could not take with him, he took leave of his friends and commenced his jour- ney to the west. A number of milch cows, and horses, laden with a few necessary household utensils, formed the whole of his baggage. His wife and children were ©ANmL BOOMK. 45 lAOunted on horseback and accompanied him, every one regarding them as devoted to destruction. In Powell's valley they were joined by five more families and forty men well armed. Encouraged by this accession of strength, the3/ advanced with additional confidence, but had soon a severe warning of the further dangers which awaited them, When near Cumberland mountain, their reat was suddenly attacked with great fury by a scouting party of Indians, and throv/n into considerable confusion. The party, hovrever, soon rallied, and being accustom- ed to Indian v/arfare, returned the fire with such spirit and effect, that the Indians were repulsed with slaughter. Their own loss, however, had been severe. Six men were killed upon the spot, and one v>^ounded. Am.ong the killed was Boone's eldest son, to the unspeakable afflic- tion of his family. The disorder and grief occasioned by this rough reception, seems to have afiected the emigrants deeply, as they instantly retraced their steps to the set- tlements on Clinch river, forty miles from the scene of action. Here they remained until June, 1774, probably at the request of the women, who must have been greatly alarmed at the prospect of plunging more deeply into a country, upon the skirts of which, they had witnessed so keen and bloody a conflict. At this time, Boone, at the request of Governor Dun- more, of Virginia, conducted a number of surveyors to the falls of Ohio, a distance of eight hundred miles. Of the incidents of this journey, we have no record whatever; After his return, he v/as engaged under Dunmore until 1775 in several affairs v/ith the Indians, and at the solicit- ation of some gentlemen of North Carolina, he attended at a treaty with the Cherokees, for the purpose of pur- chasing the lands south of Kentucky river. With his usual brevity, Boone has omitted to infoiTQ us of the par- ticulars of this conference, or of the peculiar character of the business upon which he was sent. By the aid of Mr.. Marshall's valuable history, however, we are enabled to supply this silence, at least with regard to the latter cir cumstance. It seems that the Cherokees, living within the charter 46 WESTERN ADVENTURE. ed limits of the state of North Carohna, claimed all the land south of the Kentucky as far as Tennessee river. That Colonel Richard Henderson and some other gentle- men, animated by the glowing description of the fertility of the soil, which Boone and his brother had given upon their return, determined to purchase the whole of this im- mense tract from the Cherokees, and employ Boone as their agent. The Cherokees gladly parted with an empty title, for a solid, although moderate recompense, and Hen- derson and his friends instantly prepared to take posses- sion, relying upon the validity of their deed from the In- dians. Unfortunately, however, for the success of these speculators, Kentucky lay within the limits of Virginia, according to the old charter of King James, and that state accordingly claimed for herself solely, the privilege of purchasing the Indian title to lands lying within her own limits. She lost no time therefore, in pronouncing the treaty of Henderson null and void, as it regarded Ms own title; although, by rather an exceptionable process of reasoning, they determined that it was obligatory upon the Indians, so far as regarded the extinction of their title. Whether or not the reasoning was good, I cannot pretend to say; but, supported as it was by a powerful state, it was made good, and Henderson's golden dreams completely vanish- ed. He and his associates, however, received a liberal grant of land lying on Green river, as a compensation for the expense and danger which they had incurred in pros- ecuting their settlement. It was under the auspices of Henderson, that Boone's next visit to Kentucky was made. Leaving his family on Clinch river, he set out at the head of a few men, to mark out a road for the pack horses or wagons of Henderson's party. This laborious and dangerous duty, he executed with his usual patient fortitude, until he came within fif- teen miles of the spot where Boonesborough afterwards was built. Here, on the 22nd of March, his small party was attacked by the Indians, and suffered a loss of four men killed and wounded. The Indians, although repuls- ed with loss in this affair, renewed the attack with equal DANIEL BOONE. 47 fury on the next day, and killed and wounded five more of his party. On the 1st of April, the survivors began to build a small fort on the Kentucky river, afterwards call- ed Boonesborough, and on the 4th, they were again attacked by the Indians, and lost another man. Notwithstanding the harassing attacks to which they were constantly ex- posed, (for the Indians seemed enraged to madness at the prospect of their building houses on their hunting ground,) the work was prosecuted with indefatigable diligence, and on the 14th was completed. Boone instantly returned to Clinch river for his family, determined to bring them with him at every risk. This ^^s done as soon as the journey could be performed, and Mrs, Boone and her daughters were the first white women who stood upon the banks of the Kentucky river, as Boone himself had been the first white man who ever built a cabin upon the borders of the state. The first house, however, which ever stood in the interior of Kentucky^ was erected at Harrodsburgh, in the year 1774, by James Harrod, who conducted to this place a party of hunters from the banks of the Monongahela. This place was, there- fore, a few months older than Boonesborough. Both soon became distinguished, as the only places in v/hich hunters and surveyors could find security from the fury of the In- dians. Within a few weeks afler the arrival of Mrs. Boone and her daughters, the infant colony was reinforced by three more families, at the head of which were Mrs. McGary, Mrs. Hogan, and Mrs. Denton. Boonesborough, however, was the central object of Indian hostilities, and scarcely had his family become domesticated in their new posses- sion, when they were suddenly attacked by a party of Indians, and lost one of their garrison. This was on the 24th of December, 1775. In the following July, however, a much more alarming incident occurred. One of his daughters, in company with a Miss Calloway, were amusing themselves in the immediate neighborhood of the fort, when a party of In- dians, suddenly rushed out of a canebrake, and, intercept- ing their return, took them prisoners. The screams ot 48 WESTERH ADVENTURE. the terrified girls quickly alarmed the family. The small garrison was dispersed in their usual occupations; but Boone hastily collected a small party of eight men, and pursued the enemy. So much time, however, had been lost, that the Indians had got several miles the start of them. The pursuit was urged through the night with great keenness, by woodsmen capable of following a trail at all times, and on the following day they came up with them. The attack was so sudden and furious, that the Indians were driven from their ground before they had leisure to tomahawk their prisoners, and the girls were recovered without having sustained any other injury, than excesstve fright and fatigue. Nothing but a barren outline of this interesting occurrence has been given. We know noth- ing of the conduct of the Indians to their captives, or of the situation of the young ladies during the short engage- ment, and cannot venture to fill up the outline from imagination. The Indians lost tv/o men, v/hile Boone's party was uninjured. From this time until the 15th of April, 1777, the garri- son was incessantly harassed by flying parties of Indians. While ploughing their corn, they were waylaid and shot while hunting they were chased and fired upon ; and some- times a solitary Indian would creep up near the fort, in the night, and fire upon the first of the garrison who ap- peared in the morning. They were in a constant state of anxiety and alarm, and the most ordinary duties could only be performed at the risk of their lives. On the 15th of April, the enemy appeared in large numbers, hoping to crush the infant settlement at a sin- gle blow. Boonesborough, Logan's Fort, and Harrods- burgh, were attacked at one and the same time. But, destitute as they were of artillery, scaling ladders, and all the proper means of reducing fortified places, they could only distress the men, alarm the women, and destroy the corn and cattle. Boonesborough sustained some loss^ as did the other stations, but the enemy being more ex- posed, suffered so severely as to retire with precipitation. No rest, however, was given to the unhappy garrison. DAKIEL BOorsE. 49 On the 4th of July following, they were again attacked by two hundred warriors, and again repulsed the enemy with loss. The Indians retreated; but a few days after- v/ards, fell upon Logan's station with great fury, having sent detachments to alarm the other stations, so as to pre- vent the appearance of reinforcements to Logan's. In this last attempt, they displayed great obstinacy, and as the garrison consisted only of fifteen men, they were reduced to extremity. Not a moment could be aliov/ed for sleep. Burning arrows were shot upon the roofs of the houses, and the Indians often pressed boldly up to the gates, and attempted to hew them down with their tomahawks. For- tunately, at this critical time, Colonel Bowman arrived from Virginia with one hundred men, well armed, and the savages precipitately withdrew, leaving the garrison al- most exhausted with fatigue, and reduced to twelve men. A brief period of repose now follov/ed, in which the set tiers endeavored to repair the damages done to their farms But a period of heavy trial to Boone and his family vv^as approaching. In January, 1778, accompanied by thirty men, Boone went to the Blue Licks to make salt for the different stations ; and on the 7th of February following, while out hunting, he fell in with one hundred and two Indian warriors, on their march to attack Boonesborough. He instantly fled, but, being upwards of fifty years old, was unable to contend with the fleet young men who pur- sued him, and was a second time taken prisoner. As usual, he was treated with kindness until his final fate was determined, and was led back to the Licks, where his men were still encamped. Here his whole party, to the num- ber of twenty seven, surrendered themselves, upon prom- ise of life and good treatment, both of which conditions were faithfully observed. Had the Indians prosecuted their enterprise, they might perhaps, by showing their prisoners, and threatening to put them to the torture, have operated so far upon the sympathies of the garrisons, as to have obtained conside- rable results. But nothing of the kind was attempted. They had already been .unexpectedly successful; and it is their custom, after good or bad fortune, immediately to 50 WESTERN ADVEIVTURE. return home and enjoy their triumph, or lament their ill success. Boone and his party were conducted to the old town of Chillicothe, where they remained until the follow- ing March. No journal was written during this period, by either Boone, or his party. We are only informed that his mild and patient equanimity, wrought powerfully upon the Indians; that he was adopted into a family, and uni- formly treated with the utmost affection. One fact is given us which shows his acute observation, and knowl- edge of mankind. At the various shooting matches tcr which he was invited, he took care not to beat them toe often. He knew that no feeling is more painful than that of inferiority, and that the most effectual way of keeping them in a good humor with him^ was to keep them in a good humor with themselves. He, therefore, only shot well enough, to make it an honor to beat him, and found himself an universal favorite. It is much to be regretted, that some of our wits and egotists, of both sexes, could not borrow a little of the sa- gacity of Boone, and recollect, that when they engross the attention of the company, and endeavor most to shine, that • instead of being agreeable, in nine cases out of ten they are only bores. On the 10th of March, 1778, Boone was conducted to Detroit, when Governor Hamilton himself, offered £100 for his ransom; but so strong vv^as the affection of the In dians for their prisoner, that it was positively refused. Several English gentlemen, touched with sympathy for his misfortunes, made pressing offers of money and other articles, but Boone steadily refused to receive benefits which he could never return. The offer was honorable to them, and the refusal was dictated by rather too refined a spirit of independence. Boone's anxiety on account of his wife and children, was incessant, and the more intol- erable, as he dared not excite the suspicion of the Indians by any indication of a wish to rejoin them. Upon his return from Detroit, he observed that one hun- dred and fifty warriors of various tribes had assembled, painted and equipped for an expedition against Boonesbo- rough. His anxiety at this sight became ungovernable, DANIEL BOONE. 51 and he determined, at every risk, to effect his escape. During the whole of this agitating period, however, he permitted no symptoms of anxiety to escape him. He hunted and shot with them, as usual, until the morning of the 16th of June, when, taking an early start, he left Chil- licothe, and directed his route to Boonesborough. The distance exceeded one hundred and sixty miles, but he performed it in four days, during which he ate only one meal. He appeared before the garrison like one risen from the dead. His wife, supposing him killed, had transported herself, children and property to her father's house, in North Car- olina; his men, suspecting no danger, were dispersed in their ordinary avocations, and the works had been per- mitted to go to waste. Not a moment was to be lost. The garrison w^orked day and night upon the fortifications. New gates, new flanks, and double bastions, were soon completed. The cattle and horses were brought into the fort, ammunition prepared, and every thing made ready for the approach of the enemy within ten days after his arrival. At this time, one of his companions in captivity arrived from Chillicothe, and announced that his escape had determined the Indians to delay the invasion for three weeks. During this interval, it was ascertained that numerous spies were traversing the v/oods and hovering around the station, doubtless for the purpose of observing and report- ing the condition of the garrison. Their report could not have been favorable. The alarm had spread very gene- rally, and all were upon the alert. The attack was de- layed so long, that Boone began to suspect that they had been discouraged by the report of the spies; and he de- termined to invade them. Selecting nineteen men from his garrison, he put himself at their head, and marched with equal silence and celerity, against the town of Paint Creek, on the Scioto. He arrived, without discovery, within four miles of the town, and there encountered a party of thirty warriors on their march to unite with the grand army in the expedition against Boonesborough. Instantly attacking them with great spirit, h« compelled 52 W£5T£B,N ADVENTURE. them to give way with some loss, and without any injury to himself. He then halted, and sent two spies in ad- vance, to ascertain the condition of the village. In a few hours they returned with the intelligence, that the town was evacuated. He instantly concluded that the grand army was upon its nmrch against Boonesborough, whose situation, as well as his own, was exceedingly critical. Retracing his steps, he marched day and night, hoping stili to elude the enemy, and reach Boonesborough before them. He soon fell in Vv ith their trail, and making a cir- cuit to avoid them, he passed their army on the sixth day of their march, and on the seventh reached Boonesbo- rough. On the eighth, the enemy appeared in great force. There were nearly five hundred Indian warriors, armed and painted in their usual manner, and what was still more formidable, they were conducted by Canadian offi- cers, well skilled in the usages of modern warfare. As soon as they vf ere arrayed in front of the fort, the British colors were displayed, and an officer, with a flag, v/as sent to demand the surrender of the fort, with a promise of quarter and good treatment in case of compliance, and threatening "the hatchet," in case of a storm. Boone requested two days for consideration, which, in defiance of all experience and common sense, was granted. This interval, as usual, was employed in preparation for an ob- stinate resistance. The cattle were brought into the fort, the horses secured, and all things made ready against the commencement of hostilities. Boone then assembled the garrison, and represented to them the condition in which they stood. They had not now to deal v/ith Indians alone, but with British officers, skilled in the art of attacking fortified places, sufficiently numerous to direct, but too few to restrain their savage allies. If they surrendered, their lives might and proba- bly would be saved; but they v/ould suffer much inconven lence, and must lose all their property. If they resisted, and were overcome^ the life of every man, woman and child would be sacrificed. The hour was now come in which they were to d^tairmiiiii* what was to be done. If ©ANIEL BOOKS. 53 they were inclined to surrender, he would announce it to the officer; if they were resolved to maintain the fort, he would share their fate, whether in life or death. He had scarcely finished, when every man arose and in a firm tone announced his determination to defend the fort to the last. Boone then appeared at the gate of the fortress, and communicated to Captain Duquesne the resolution of his men. Disappointment and chagrin were strongly painted upon the face of the Canadian at this ansv/er; but endeav- oring to disguise his feelings, he declared that Governor Hamilton had ordered him not to injure the men if it could be avoided, and that if nine of the principal inhabitants of the fort would come out into the plain and treat with them, they would instantly depart without farther hostility. The insidious nature of this proposal was evident, for they could converse very well from where they then stood, and going out would only place the officers of the fort at the mercy of the savages, not to mention the absurdity of supposing that this army of warriors would '^treat^'^ but upon such terms as pleased them, and no terms were like- ly to do so, short of a total abandonment of the country. Notwithstanding these obvious objections, the word ^' treat," sounded so pleasantly in the ears of the besieged, that they agreed at once to the proposal, and Boone him- self, attended by eight of his men, went out and mingled with the savages, who crowded around them in great num- bers, and with countenances of deep anxiety. The treaty then commenced and was soon concluded. What the terms were, we are not informed, nor is it a matter of the least importance, as the whole was a stupid and shallow artifice. This was soon made manifest. Duquesne, af- ter many, very m^any pretty periods about the " hienfdis- ance ei humanite?'^ which should accompany the warfare of civilized beings, at length informed Boone, that it was a custom with the Indians, upon the conclusion of a treaty with the whites, for tv\^o warriors to take hold of the hand of each white man. Boone thought this rather a singular custom, but there was no time to dispute about etiquette, particularly, as he 5 54 WESTERN ADVENTURE. could not be more in their power than he ah'eady was; so he signified his willingness to conform to the Indian mode of cementing friendship. Instantly, two warriors ap- proached each white man, with the word " brother " upon their lips, but a very different expression in their eyes, and grappling him with violence, attempted to bear him off. They probably (unless totally infatuated) expected such a consummation, and all at the same moment sprung from their enemies and ran to the fort, under a heavy fire, which fortunately onl}^ wounded one man. We look here in vain for the prudence and sagacity which usually distinguished Boone. Indeed there seems to have been a contest between him and Duquesne, as to which should display the greater quantum of shallowness. The plot itself was unworthy of a child, and the execution beneath contempt. For after all this treachery, to per- mit his prisoner to escape from the very midst of his war- riors, vv^ho certainly might have thrown themselves be- tween Boone and the fort, argues a poverty or timidity, on the part of Duquesne, truly despicable. The attack instantly commenced by a heavy fire against the picketing, and v/as returned v/ith fatal accuracy by the garrison. The Indians quickly sheltered themselves, and the action became more cautious and deliberate. Find- ing but little effect from the fire of his men, Duquesne next resorted to a more formidable mode of attack. The fort stood on the south bank of the river, within sixty yards of the water. Commencing under the bank, where their operations were concealed from the garrison, they attempted to push a mine into the fort. Their object, however, was fortunately discovered by the quantity of fresh earth which they were compelled to throv/ into the river, and by which the water became muddy for some dis- tance below. Boone, who had regained his usual sagacity, instantly cut a trench within the fort in such a manner as to intersect the line of their approach, and thus frustrated their design. The enemy exhausted all the ordinary artifices of In- dian warfare, but were steadily repulsed in every effort. Finding their numbers daily thinned by the deliberate DANIEL BOONE. 55 but fatal fire of the garrison, and seeing no prospect of final success, they broke up on the ninth day of the siege, and returned home. The loss of the garrison, was two men killed and four wounded. On the part of the sava- ges, thirty-seven were killed and many wounded, v/ho, as usual, were all carried off. This was the last siege sus- tained by Boonesborough. The country had increased so rapidly in numbers, and so many other stations lay be- tween Boonesborough and the Ohio, that the savages could not reach it, without leaving enemies in the rear. In the autumn of this year, Boone returned to North Carolina for his wife and family, who, as already observ- ed, had supposed him dead, and returned to her father. There is a hint in Mr. MarshalPs history, that the family affairs which detained him in North Carolina, were of an unpleasant character, but no explanation is given. In the summer of 1780, he returned to Kentucky with his family and settled at Boonesborough. Here he con- tinued busily engaged upon his farm until the 6th of Oc- tober, when, accompanied by his brother, he v/ent to the Lower Blue Licks, for the purpose of providing himself with salt. This spot seemed fatal to Boone. Here, he had once been taken prisoner by the Indians, and here he was destined, within two years, to lose his young- est son, and to witness the slaughter of many of his dear- est friends. His present visit was not free from calamity. Upon their return, they were encountered by a party of Indians, and his brother, who had accompanied him faith- fully through many years of toil and danger, was killed and scalped before his eyes. Unable either to prevent or avenge his death, Boone was compelled to fly, and by his superior knowledge of the country, contrived to elude his pursuers. They fol- lowed his trail, however, by the scent of a dog, that pressed him closely, and prevented his concealing himself. This was one of the most critical moments of his life, but his usual coolness and fortitude enabled him to meet it. He halted until the dog, baying loudly upon his trail, came within gunshot, when he deliberately turned and shot him dead. The thickness of the woods and 56 WBSTKRK ADVENTURE. the approach of darkness, then enabled him to effect hi0 escape* During the following year, Boonesboroiigh enjoyed uninterrupted tranquillity. The country had become comparatively thickly settled, and was studded with for- tresses in every direction. Fresh emigrants with their families were constantly arriving; and many young un- married women, (v/ho had heretofore been extremely scarce,) had ventured to risk themselves in Kentucky. They could not have selected a spot, where their merit was more properly appreciated, and were disposed of very rapidly to the young hunters, most of whom had hitherto, from necessity, remained bachelors. Thriving settle- ments had been pushed beyond the Kentucky river, and a number of houses had been built where Lexington now stands. The year 1781 passed away in perfect tranquillity, and judging from appearances, nothing was more distant, than the terrible struggle which awaited them. But during the whole of this year, the Indians were meditating a des^ perate effort, to crush the settlements at a single blow* They had become seriously alarmed at the tide of emigration which rolled over the country, and threatened to convert their favorite hunting ground into one vast cluster of vil- lages. The game had already been much dispersed, the settlers originally weak aad scattered over the south side of the Kentucky river, had now become numerous^ and were rapidly extending to the Ohio. One vigorous and united effort might still crush their enemies, and regain for themselves the undisputed possession of the western forests. A few renegado white men, were mingled with them, and inflamed their wild passions, by dwelling upon the in- juries which they had ever sustained at the hands of the whites, and of the necessity for instant and vigorous ex- ertion^ or of an eternal surrender of every hope either of redress or vengeance. Among these, the most remarkable was Simon Girty, Runners were despatched to most of the north-western tribes, and all were exhorted to lay ide priv?ite jealousy, and unite in a common caude t>AmEh BOONE. 57 against these white intruders. In the mean time, the settlers were busily employed in opening farms, marrying and giving in marriage, totally ignorant of the storm which was gathering upon the Lakes. In the spring of 1782^ after a long interval of repose, they were harassed by small parties, who preceded the main body, as the pattering and irregular drops of rainy are the precursors of the approaching storm. In the month of Ma}^, a party of twenty-five Wyandotts secretly approached Estill's station^ and committed shocking outra- ges in its vicinity. Entering a cabin which stood apart from the rest, they seized a woman and her two daughters, who having been violated with circumstances of savage barbarity, were tomahawked and scalped. Their bodies, yet warm and bleeding, were found upon the floor of the cabin. The neighborhood was instantly alarmed. Cap- tain Estill speedily collected a body of twenty-five men, and pursued their trail with gi*eat rapidity. He came up with them on Hinkston fork of Licking, immediately after they had crossed it, and a most severe and desperate con- flict ensued. The Indians^ at first appeared daunted and began to fly, '^but their chiefs who was badly wounded by the first fire, was heard in a lead voice, ordering them to stand and re- turn the fire, which was instantly obeyed. The creek ran betv/een the two parties, and prevented a charge on .either side^ without the certainty of gi*eat loss. The par- rties, therefore, consisting of precisely the same number, formed an irregular line, within fifty yards of each other, and sheltering themselves behind trees or logs, they fired with deliberation, as an object presented itself. The on- ly maneuver, whick the nature of the ground permitted, was to extend their lines in such a manner as to uncover the flank of the enemy, and even this was extremely dan* gerous, as every motion exposed them to a close and dead- ly fire. The actios, therefore, was chiefly stationary, neither party advancing or retreating, and every individual act- ing for himself. It had already lasted more than an hour? without advantage on either side, or any prospect of its 58 WESTERN ADVENTURE. termination. Captain Estill had lost one third of his meny and had inflicted about an equal loss upon his enemies who still boldly maintained their ground^ and returned his fire with equal spirit. To have persevered in the Indian mode of ^ghiing, would have exposed his party to certain death, one by one, unless all the Indians should be killed first, who, however, had at least an equal chance with him- self. Even victory, bought at such a price, would have afforded but a melancholy triumph; yet it was impossible to retreat or advance without exposing his men to the greatest danger. After coolly revolving these reflections in his mind, and observing that the enemy exhibited no symptoms of dis- couragement, Captain Estill determined to detach a party of six men, under Lieutenant Miller, with orders to cross the creek above, and take the Indians in flank, while he maintained his ground, ready to co-operate, as circumstan- ces might require. But he had to deal with an enemy equally bold and sagacious. The Indian chief was quick- ly aware of the division of the force opposed to him, from the slackening of the fire in front, and readily conjectur- ing his object, he determined to frustrate it by crossing the creek with his whole force, and overwhelming Estill, now weakened by the absence of Miller. The manceuver was bold and masterly, and was execu- ted with determined courage. Throv/ing themselves into the water, they fell upon Estill with the tomahawk, and drove him before them with slaughter. Miller's party re- treated with precipitation, and even lie under the reproach of deserting their friends, and absconding, instead of oc- cupying the designated ground. Others contradict this statement, and affirm that Miller punctually executed his orders, crossed the creek, and falling in with the enemy, was compelled to retire with loss. We think it probable, that the Indians rushed upon Estill, as above mentioned, and having defeated him, recrossed the creek and attacked Miller, thus cutting up their enemy in detail. Estill's party finding themselves furiously charged, and receiving no assistance from Miller, v/ho was probably at that time on the other side of the creek, in the execution \NIEL BOONE, 59 of his orders^ would naturally consider themselves deserted, and when a clamor of that kind is once raised against a man, (particularly in a defeat,) the voice of reason can no longer be heard. Some scape-goat is always necessary. The broken remains of the detachment returned to the station, and filled the country with consternation and alarm, greatly disproportioned to the extent of the. loss. The brave Estill, with eight of his men, had fallen, and four more were wounded, m.ore than half of their original number. This, notwithstanding the smallness of the numbers, is a very remarkable action, and, perhaps, more honorable to the Indians than any other one on record. The numbers, the arms, the courage, and the position of the parties, were equal. Both were composed of good marksmen, and skil- ful woodsmen. There was no surprise, no panic, nor any particular accident, according to the most probable account, which decided the a parently in the agonies of death. Kenton instantly fled, without even returning for an additional supply of cloth- ing, and directed his steps westv/ard. During the first day of his journey, he traveled in much agitation. He supposed that Leitchman was dead, and that the hue and cry would instantly be raised after him- self as the murderer. The constant apprehension of a gallows, lent wings to his flight, and he scarcely allowed himself a moment for refreshment, until he had reached the neighborhood of the Warm Springs, where the settlements were thin, and the immediate danger of pursuit was over. Here he fortunately fell in with en exile from the state of New Jersey, of the name of Johnson, who was traveling westward on foot, and driving a single pack horse, laden with a few necessaries, before him. They soon became acquainted, related their adventures to each other, and agreed to travel together. They plunged boldly into the wilderness of the Alle^ ghany mountains, and subsisting upon wild game and a small quantity of flour, which Johnson had brought with him, they made no halt until they arrived at a small set- tlement on Cheat river, one of the prongs of the Monon- gahela. Here the two friends separated, and Kenton, (who had assumed the name of Butler,) attached himself to a small company headed by John Mahon and Jacob Greathouse, who had united for the purpose of exploring the country. They quickly built a large canoe, and descend* od the river as far as the Province's settlement. There SIMON KENTON. SB Kenton became acquainted with two young adventurers, Yager and Strader, the former of whom had been taken by the Indians when a child, and had spent many years in their village. He informed Kenton that there was a country below, which the Indians called Kan-tuck-ee, which was a pei-fect Elysium; that the ground was not only the richest, and the vegetation the most luxuriant in the world j but, that the immense herds of buffalo and elk, which ranged at large through its forests, would appear incredible to one who had never witnessed such a spectacle. He added, that it was entirely uninhabited, and was open to all who chose to hunt there; tlmt he himself had often accompanied the Indians in their grand hunting parties through the country, and was confident that he could conduct him to the same ground, if he was willing to venture. Kenton eagerly closed with the proposal, and announ- ced his readiness to accompany him immediately. A ca- noe was speedily procured, and the three young men com- mitted themselves to the waters of the Ohio, in search of the enchanted hunting ground, which Yager had visited in his youth, while a captive among the Indians. Yager had no idea of its exact distance from Province's settlement. He recollected only that he had crossed the Ohio in order to reach it, and declared that, by sailing down the river for a few days, they would come to the spot where the Indians were accustomed to cross, and assured Kenton that there would be no difficulty in recognizing it, that its appearance was different from all the rest of the world, &c. &c. Fired by Yager's glov/ing description of its beauty, and eager to reach this new El Dorado of the west, the young men rowed hard for several days, confidently expecting that every bend of the river would usher them into the land of promise. No such country, however, appeared; and at length Kenton and Strader became rather sceptical as to its existence at all. They rallied Yager freely upon the subject, who still declared positively that they w^ould soon wdtness the confirmation of all that he had said. Af- ter descending, however, as low as the spot where Man- chester now stands, and seeing nothing which resembled S4 WESTERN ADVENTURE. Yager's country, they held a council, in which it was de- termined to return, and survey the country more carefully; Yager still insisting, that they must have passed it in the night. They, accordingly, retraced their steps, and suc- cessively explored the land about Salt Lick, Little and Big Sandy, and Guyandotte. At length, being totally wearied out in searching for what had no existence, they turned their attention entirely to hunting and trapping, and spent nearly two yearS upon the great Kenawha, in this agreeable and profitable occupation. They obtained clothing in exchange for their furs, from the traders of fort Pitt, and the forest supplied them abundantly with wild game for food. In March, 1773, while reposing in their tent, after the labors of the day, they were suddenly attacked by a party of Lidians. S trader was killed at the first fire, and Ken- ton and Yager with difficulty effected their escape, being compelled to abandon their guns, blankets, and provisions, and commit themselves to the wilderness, without the means of sheltering themselves from the cold, procuring a morsel of food, or even kindling a fire. They v/ere far removed from any white settlement, and had no other pros- pect than that of perishing by famine, or falling a sacrifice to the fury of such Lidians as might chance to meet them. Reflecting, however, that it was never too late for men to be utterly lost, they determined to strike through the woods for the Ohio river, and take such fortune as it should please heaven to bestow. Directing their route by the barks of trees, they press- ed forward in a straight direction for the Ohio, and during the two first days allayed the piercing pangs of hunger by chewing such roots as they could find on their way. On the third day, their strength began to fail, and the keen appetite which, at first, had constantly tortured them, was succeeded by a nausea, accompanied with dizziness and a sinking of the heart, bordering on despair. On the fourth day, they often threw themselves upon the ground, deter- mined to await the approach of death ; and as often were stimulated, by the instinctive love of life, to arise and re- sume their journey. Oatiafi®!^ Iliey were completely ex SIMON KEJNTON. 85 hausted and were able only to crawl, at intervals. In this manner, they traveled about a mile during the day, and succeeded, by sunset, in reaching the banks of the Ohio. Here, to their inexpressible joy, they encountered a party of traders, from whom they obtained a comfortable supply of provisions. The traders were so much startled at the idea of being exposed toperils, such as those which Kenton and Yager had just escaped, that they lost no time in removing from such a dangerous vicinity, and instantly returned to the mouth of the Little Kenawha, where they met v/ith Dr. Briscoe at the head of another exploring party. From him, Ken- ton obtained a rifle and some ammunition, with which he again plunged alone into the forest, and hunted with suc- cess until the summer of 1773 was far advanced. Return- ing, then, to the Little Kenawha, he found a party of fourteen men under the direction of Dr. Wood and Han- cock Lee, who were descending the Ohio with the view of joining Captain Bullitt, who was supposed to be at the mouth of Scioto, with a large party. Kenton instantly joined them, and descended the river in canoes as far as the Three Islands, landing frequently and examining the country on each side of the river. At the Three Islands they were alarmed by the approach of a large party of Indians, by whom they were compelled to abandon their canoes and strike diagonally through the wilderness for Greenbriar county, Virginia. They suffer- ed much during this journey from fatigue and famine, and were compelled at one time (notwithstanding the danger of their situation,) to hak for fourteen days and wait upon Dr. Wood, who had unfortunately been bitten by a copper- head snake, and rendered incapable of moving for that ength of time. Upon reaching the settlements the party separated. Kenton, not wishing to venture to Virginia, (having heard nothing of Leitchman's recovery,) built a canoe on the banks of the Monongahela, and returned to the mouth of the great Kenawha, hunted with success until the spring of 1774, when a war broke out between the Indian tribes and the colonies, occasioned, in a great measure, by ^ WESTEim AT mrwRiL the murder of the celebrated eKief, Logan's family, by Captain Cressup. Kenton was not in the great battle near the mouth of the Kenawha, but acted as a spy^ throughout the whole of the campaign, in the course of which, he traversed the country around fort Pitt, and a large part of the present state of Ohio. When Dunmore's forces were disbanded, Kenton, in company with two others, determined on making a second effort to discover the rich lands bordering on the Ohio, of which Yager had spoken. Having built a canoe, and pro- vided themselves abundantly with ammunition, they de- scended the river as far as the mouth of Big Bone Creek, upon which the celebrated Lick of that name is situated. They there disembarked, and explored the country for several days; but not finding the land equal to their ex- pectations, they reascended the river as far as the mouth of Cabin Creek, a few miles above Maysville. From this point, they set out with a determination to examine the country carefully, until they could find land answering in some degree, to Yager's description In a short time, they reached the neighborhood of May's Lick, and for the first time were struck with the uncommon beauty of the country and fertility of the soil. Here they fell in with the great buffalo trace, which, in a few hours, brought them to the Lower Blue Lick. The flats upon each side of the river were crowded with immense herds of buffalo, that had come down from the interior for the sake of the salt; and a number of elk were seen up- on the bare ridges which surrounded the springs. Their great object was now achieved. They had discovered a country far more rich than any which they had yet beheld, and where the game seemed as abundant as the grass of the plain. After remaining a few days at the Lick, and killing ar> immense number of deer and buffalo, they crossed the Lick- ing, and passed through the present counties of Scott, Fayette, Woodford, Clarke, Montgomer}^, and Bath; when, falling in with another buffalo trace, it conducted them U the Upper Blue Lick, where they again beheld elk am b^^alo in immense numbers. ^li^hly gratified at th« sue^ SIMON KENTON. 87 eess of their expedition, they quickly returned to theii canoe, and ascended the river as far as Green Bottom, where they had left their skins, some ammunition, and a few hoes, which they had procured at Kenawha, with the view of cultivating the rich ground which they expected to find. Returning as quickly as possible, they built a cabin on the spot where the town of Washington now stands, and having cleared an acre of ground, in the center of a large canebrake, they planted it with Indian corn. Strolling about the country in veirious directions, they one day fell in with two white men near the Lower Blue Lick, who had lost their guns, blankets, and ammunition, and were much distressed for provisions and the means of extricating themselves from the wilderness. They informed them that there names were Fitzpatrick and Hendricks; that, in descending the Ohio, their canoe had been overset by a sudden squall; and that they were compelled to swim ashore, without being able to save any thing from the wreck; that they had wandered thus far through the woods, in the effort to penetrate through the country, to the set?- tlements above, but must infallibly perish, unless they could be furnished with guns and ammunition. Kenton informed them of the small settlement which he had opened at Washington, and invited them to join him and share such fortune as Providence might bestow. Hendricks consented to remain, but Fitzpatrick, being heaxi tily sick of the woods, insisted upon returning to the Monon- g*ahela. Kenton and his two friends, accompanied Fitzpatrick to " the point," as it was then called, being the spot where Maysville now stands, and having given him a gun, &c., assisted him in crossing the river, and took leave of him on the other side. In the mean time, Hendricks had been left at the Blue Lick, without a gun, but with a good supply of provisions, until the party could return from the river. As soon as Fitzpatrick had gone, Kenton and his two friends hasten- ed to return to the Lick, not doubting for a moment, that they would find Hendricks in camp as they had left him. Upon arriving at the point where the tent had stood, how 38 WESTERN AI^^ENTURE. ever, they were alarmed at finding it deserted, with evi- dent marks of violence around it. Several bullet hoies were to be seen in the poles of which it was constructed, and various articles belonging to Hendricks, were tossed about in too negligent a manner to warrant the belief that it had been done by him. At a little distance from the camp, in a low ravine, they observed a thick smoke, as if from a fire just be- inning to burn. They did not doubt for a moment, hat Hendricks had fallen into the hands of the Indians, and believing that a party of them were then assembled around the fire which was about to be kindled, they betook themselves to their heels, and fled faster and farther, than true chivalry perhaps would justify. They remained at a distance until the evening of the next day, when they ventured cautiously to return to camp. The fire was still burning, although faintly, and after carefully reconnoiter- ing the adjacent ground, they ventured at length to ap- proach the spot, and there beheld the skull and bones of their unfortunate friend ! He had evidently been roasted to death by a party of In- dians, and must have been alive at the time when Kenton and his companions approached on the preceding day. It was a subject of deep regret to the party, that they had not reconnoitered the spot more closely, as it was probable that their friend might have been rescued. The number of Indians might have been small, and a brisk and unex- pected attack might have dispersed them. Regret, how- ever, was now unavailing, and they sadly retraced their steps to their camp at Washington, pondering upon the uncertainty of their own condition, and upon the danger to which they were hourly exposed from the numerous baiids of hostile Indians, who were prowling around them in every direction. They remained at Washington, entirely undisturbed, until the m.onth of September, when again visiting the Lick, they saw a white man, who informed them that the interior of the country was already occupied by the whites, and that there was a thriving settlement at Boones- borough. Highly gratified at this intelligence, and an»- n SIMON KENTON, 89 lous once more to enjoy the society of men, they broke up their encampment at Washington, and visited the different stations which had been formed in the country. Kenton sustained two sieges in Boonesborough, and served as a spy, with equal diligence and success, until the summer of 1778, when Boone, returning from captivity, as has already been mentioned, concerted an expedition against the small Indian town on Paint Creek. Kenton acted as a spy on this expedition, and after crossing the Ohio, being some distance in advance of the rest, he was suddenly startled by hearing a loud laugh from an adjoining thicket, which he was just about to en- ter. Instantly halting, he took his station behind a tree, and waited anxiously for a repetition of the noise. In a few minutes, two Indians approached the spot where he lay, both mounted upon a small pony, and chatting and laughing in high good humor. Having permitted them to approach within good rifle distance, he raised his gun, and aiming at the breast of the foremost, pulled the trigger. Both Indians fell ; one shot dead, the other severe- ly wounded. Their frightened pony galloped back into the cane, giv- ing the alarm to the rest of the party who were some distance in the rear. Kenton instantly ran up to scalp the dead man and to tomahawk his wounded companion, according to the usual rule of western warfare ; but, when about to put an end to the struggles of the wounded Indian, who did not seem disposed to submit very quietly to the operation, his attention was attracted by a rustling of the cane on his right, and turning rapidly in that direction, he beheld two Indians within twenty steps of him, very deliberately ta- king aim at his person. A quick spring to one side, on his part, was instantly followed by the flash and report of their rifles ; the balls whistled close to his ears, causing him involuntarily to duck his head, but doing him no injury. Not liking so hot a neighborhood, and ignorant of the number which might yet be behind, he lost no time in re- gaining the shelter of the wood, leaving the dead Indian unscalped, and the wounded man to the care of his friends. Scarcely had he treed, when a dozen Indians appeared on go WESTERJN ADVENTURE. the edge of the canebrake, and seemed disposed to press upon him with more vigor than was consistent with the safety of his present position. His fears however, were instantly relieved by the appearance of Boone and his party, who came running up as rapidly as a due regard to the shelter of their persons would permit, and opening a brisk fire upon the Indians, quickly compelled them to re- gain the shelter of the canebrake, with the loss of several wounded, who, as usual, were carried off. The dead In- dian, in the hurry of the retreat was abandoned, and Ken- ton at last had the gratification of taking his scalp ' Boone, as has already been mentioned, instantly re- traced his steps to Boonesborough ; but Kenton and his friend Montgomery, determined to proceed alone to the Indian town, and at least obtain some recompense for the trouble of their journey. Approaching the village with the cautious and stealthy pace of the cat or panther, they took their stations upon the edge of the cornfield, supposing that the Indians would enter it as usual to gather roas ting- ears. They remained here patiently all day, but did not see a single Indian, and heard only the voices of some children who were playing near them. Being disappoint- ed in the hope of getting a shot, they entered the Indian town in the night, and stealing four good horses, made a rapid night's march for the Ohio, which they crossed in safety, and on the second day afterwards, reached Logan's fort with their booty. Scarcely had he returned, when Colonel Bowman order- ed him to take his fi-iend Montgomery, and another young man named Clark, and go on a secret expedition to an In- dian town on the Little Miami, against which the Colonel meditated an expedition, and of the exact condition of which he wished to have certain information. They in- stantly set out, in obedience to their orders,^ and reached the neighborhood of the to^vn without being discovered. They examined it attentively, and walked around the houses during the night with perfect impunity. Thus far all had gone well,* and had they been contented to return after the due execution of their orders, they would have avoided the heavv calamity which awaited them. But, un^tanately, durmg their nightly promenade, they stumbled upon a pound in which were a number of In- dian horses. The temptation was not to,be resisted. They each mounted a horse, but not satisfied with that, ithey could not find it in their hearts to leave a single animal behind them, and as some of the horses seemed indisposed to change masters, the affair was attended with so much fracas, that at last they were discovered. The cry ran through the village at once, that the Long Knives were stealing their horses right before the doors of their v/ig- wams, and old and young, squaws, boys, and w^arriors, all sallied out with loud screams to save their property from these greedy spoilers. Kenton and his friends quickly discovered that they had overshot the mark, and that they must ride for their lives; but even in this extremity, they could not bring themselves to give up a single horse which they had haltered, and while two of them rode in front and led, I know not how many horses, the other brought up the rear, and plying his w^hip from right to left, did not permit a single animal to lag behind. In this manner they dashed through the woods at a fxi- rious rate with the hue and cry after them, until their course was suddenly stopped by an impenetrable swamp. Here, from necessity, they paused for a few moments and listen- ed attentively. Hearing no sounds of pursuit, they re- sumed their course, and skirting the swamp for some dis- tance, in the vain hope of crossing it, they bent their course in a straight direction towards the Ohio. They rode du- ring the whole night without resting a moment — and halt- ing for a few minutes at day-light, they continued their journey throughout the day, and the whole of the follow- ing night, and by this uncommon expedition, on the morn- ing of the second day they reached the northern bank of the Ohio. ' Crossing the river would nov/ ensure their safety, but this was likely to prove a difficult undertaking, and the close pursuit which they had reason to expect, rendered it necessary to lose as little time as possible. The wind was high and the river rough and boisterous. It was de- tennined that Ken top shc'^kJ cross with Ate horses, while 92 WESTERN ADVENTURE. Clark and Montgomery should construct a raft in order to transport their guns, baggage and ammunition to the op- posite shore. The necessary preparations were soon made, and Kenton, after forcing his horses into the river, plunged in himself and swam by their side. In a very few minutes the high waves completely overwhelmed him and forced him considerably below the horses, that stemmed the current much more vigorously than himself. The horses being thus left to themselves, turned about, and swam again to the Ohio shore, where Kenton was compelled to follow them. Aga^in he forced them into th© water — and again they returned to the same spot, until Kenton became so exhausted by repeated efforts, as to be unable to swim. A council was then held and the ques- tion proposed "what was to be done?" That the Indians would pursue them, was certain ; that the horses would not, and could not be made to cross the river in its present state, was equally certain. Should they abandon their horses and cross on the raft, or remain with their horses and take such fortune as heaven should send them? The latter alternative was unanimously adopted. Death op captivity might be tolerated — -but the loss of so beautiful a lot of horses, after having worked so hard for them, was not to be thought of for a moment. As soon as it was determined that themselves and hor- ses were to share the same fate, it again became necessa- ry to fix upon some probable plan of saving them. Should they move up or down the river, or remain where they were? The latter course was adopted. It was supposed that the wind would fall at sunset, and the river become sufficiently calm to admit of their passage, and as it was supposed probable that the Indians might be upon them before night, it was determined to conceal the horses in a neighboring ravine, while they should take their stations in the adjoining wood. A more miserable plan could not have been adopted. If they could not consent to sacrifice their horses, in order to save their own lives, they should have moved either up or down the river, and thus have preserved the distance from the Indians which their rapidi- ty of movement had gained, SIMON KENTOJN*. 93 The Indians would have followed their trail, and being twenty four hours march behind them, could never have overtaken them. But neglecting this obvious considera- tion, they stupidly sat down until sunset, expecting that the river would become more calm. The day passed away in tranquility, but at night the wind blew harder than ever, and the water became so rough, that even their raft would have been scarcely able to cross. Not an instant more should hcive been lost, in moving from so dangerous a post; but as if totally infatuated, they remained where they were until morning; thus wasting twenty-four hours of most precious time in total idleness. In the morning, the wind abated, and the river became calm — but it was now too late. Their horses, recollecting the difficulty of the passage on the preceding day, had become as obstinate and heedless as their masters, and positivel)^ and repeat- edly refused to take the water. Finding every effort to compel them, entirely unavailing, their masters at length determined to do what ought to have been done at first. Each resolved to mount a horse and make the best of his way down the river to Louis- ville. Had even this resolution, however tardily adop- ted, been executed with decision, the party would prob- ably have been saved, but after they were mounted, instead of leaving the ground instantly, they went back upon" their own trail, in the vain effort to regain possession of the rest of then* horses, which had broken from them in the last effort to drive them into the water. They wea- ried out their good genius, and literally fell victims to their love for horse-flesh. They had scarcely ridden one hundred yards, (Kenton in the center, the others upon the flanks, with an interval of two hundred yards betweeji them,) when Kenton heard a loud halloo, apparently coming from the spot which they had just left. Instead of getting out of the way as fast as possible, and trusting to the speed of his horse and the hickness of the wood for safety, he put the last capping stone to his imprudence, and dismounting, walked leisure- ly back to meet his pursuers, and thus give them as little trouble as possible. He quickly beheld three Indians, and 94 WsiSCSS^ ADVENTIJRE. one white man, all well mounted. Wishing to give th^ alarm to his companions, he raised his rifle to his shoulder, took a steady aim at the breast of the foremost Indian, and drew the trigger. His gun had become wet on the raft and flashed. The enemy were instantly alarmed, and dashed at him. Now, at last, when flight could be of no service, Kenton betook himself to his heels, and was pursued by four horse- men at full speed. He instantly directed his steps to the thickest part of the wood, where there was much fallen timber and a rank growth of underwood, and had succee- ded, as he thought, in bafl[ling his pursuers, when, just as he was leaving the fallen timber and entering the open wood, an Indian on horseback galloped round the corner of the wood, and approached him so rapidly as to render flight useless. The horseman rode up, holding out his hand and calling out "brother! brother!" in a tone of great aflfection. Kenton observes that if his gun would have made fire, he would have " brothered" him to his heart's content, but being totally unarmed, he called out that he would surrender if they would give him quarter and good treatment. Promises were cheap with the Indian, and he showered them out by the dozen, continuing all the while to advance with extended hands and a writhing grin upon his coun- tenance, which was intended for a smile of courtesy. Seizing Kenton's hand, he grasped it with violence. Ken- ton, not liking the manner of his captor, raised his gun to knock him down, when an Indian who had followed him closely through the brushwood, instantly sprung upon his back and pinioned his arms to his side. The one who had just approached him, then seized him by the hair and shook him until his teeth rattled, while the rest of the party coming up, they all fell Upon Kenton with their tongues and ramrods, until he thought they would scold or beat him to death. They were the awners of the hor- ses which he had carried off*, and now took ample revenge for the loss of their property. At every stroke of their ramrods over his head, (and they were neither few nor far SIMON KEKTON. 95 between,) they would repeat ipx a tone of strong indigna- tion, "steal Indian boss!! hey!!" Their attention, however, was soon directed to Mont gomery, who, having heard the noise attending Kenton's capture, very gallantly hastened up to his assistance ; while Clark very prudently consulted his own safety in betaking himself to his heels, leaving his unfortunate companions to shift for themselves. Montgomery halted within gunshot and appeared busy with the pan of his gun, as if preparing to fire. Two Indians instantly sprung off in pursuit of him, while the rest attended to Kenton. In a few minutes Kenton heard the crack of two rifles in quick succession, followed by a halloo, which announced the fate of his friend. The Indians quickly returned, waving the bloody scalp of Montgomery, and with countenances and gestures which menaced him with a similar fate. They then proceeded to secure their prisoner. They first compelled him to lie upon his back, and stretched out his arms to their full length. They then passed a stout stick at right angles across his breast, to each extremity of which his wrists were fastened by thongs made of Buf- falo's hide. Stakes were then driven into the earth, near his feet, to which they were fastened in a similar manner^ A halter was then tied around his neck, and fastened to a sapling which grew near, and finally a strong rope w^as passed under his belly, lashed strongly to the pole which lay transversely upon his breast, and finally wrapped around his arms at the elbows, in such a manner as to pin- ion them to the pole with a painful violence, and render him literally incapable of moving hand, foot, or head, in the slightest manner. During the whole of this severe operation, neither their tongues nor hands were by any means idle. They cuffed him from time to time with great heartiness, until his ears rung again, and abused him for a "tief! — a boss steal ! — a rascal !" and finally, for a " d- d white man!'' I may here observe, that all the western Indians had pick- ed up a good many English words, particularly our oaths, which, from the frequency with which they were used by our hunters and traders, they probably looked upon as 96 WESTERN ADVENTURE. the very root and foundation of the English language. Kenton remained in this painful attitude throughout the night, looking forward to certain death, and most probably torture, as soon as he should reach their towns. Their i-age against him seemed to increase rather than abate, from indulgence, and in the morning it displayed itself in a form at once ludicrous and cruel. Among the horses which Kenton had taken, and which their original owners had now recovered, was a fine but wild young colt, totally unbroken, and with all his honors of mane and tail undocked. Upon him, Kenton was mounted, without saddle or bridle, with his hands tied be- hind him, and his feet fastened under the horse's belly. The country was rough and bushy, and Kenton had no means of protecting his face from the brambles, through which it was expected that the colt would dash. As soon as the rider was firmly fastened to his back, the colt was turned loose with a sudden lash, but after exerting a few curvetts and caprioles, to the great distress of his rider, but to the infinite amusement of the Indians, he appeared to take compassion on his rider, and falling into a line with the other horses, avoided the brambles entirely, and went on very well. In this manner he rode through the day. At night he was taken from the horse and confined as before. On the third day, they came within a few miles of Chilli- cothe. Here the party halted, and despatched a messen^ ger to inform the village of their arrival, in order, I sup- pose, to give them time to prepare for his reception. In a short time Blackfish, one of their chiefs, arrived, and re- garding Kenton with a stern countenance, thundered out in very good English, "you have been stealing horses ?** i ADVENTURE. tuft of grass within viewi At night the enemy drew ofi^ and Crawford's party slept upon their arms upon the field of battle. On the next day the attack was renewed, but at a more respectful distance. The Indians had apparently sustain- ed some loss on the close firing of the preceding evening, and seemed now determined to await the arrival of addi- tional reinforcements. Occasional shots were fired through the day, on both sides, but without much injury to either. As soon as it was dark, the field officers assem- bled in council; and, as the numbers of the enemy were evidently increasing every moment, it was unanimously determined to retreat by night, as rapidly as was consis- tent with order, and the preservation of the wounded. The resolution was quickly announced to the troops, and the necessary dispositions made for carrying it into effect. The outposts were silently v/ithdrawn from the vicinity of the enemy, and as fast as they came in, the troops were formed in three parallel lines, with the wounded borne upon biers, in the center. By nine o'clock at night, all necessary arrangements had been made, and the retreat began in good order Unfortunately, they had scarcely moved a hundred pa €es, when the report of several rifles were heard in the rear, in the direction of the Indian encampment. The troops soon became very unsteady. At length, a sol itary voice, in the front rank, called out, that their de- sign was discovered, and that the Indians would soon bG upon them. Nothing more was necessary. The cavalry were instantly broken; and, as usual, each man endeav ored to save himself as he best could. A prodigious uproar ensued, which quickly communicated to the enemy, that the white men had routed themselves, and that they had nothing to do but pick up stragglers. The miser- able wounded, notwithstanding the piercing cries with which they supplicated to be taken with them, were aban doned to the mercy of the enemy, and soon put out of pain. Dr. Knight, the surgeon of the detachment, was in the rear when the flight commencedj but seeing the necessity WILLIAM €RAWFORD. jgf of despatch, he put spurs to his horse and galloped through the wood as fast as the darkness of the night would permit. He had not advanced more than three hundred yards, when he heard the voice of Colonel Crawford, a short distance in front, calling aloud for his son John Crawford, his son-in-law Major Harrison, and his two nephews, Major Rose and William Crawford. Dr..^ Knight replied in the same loud tone, that he believed the young men were in front. "Is that you, Doctor ?^^ asked Craw- ford, eagerly; for no features could be recognised in the darkness. "Yes, Colonel! I am the hindmost man I be- lieve !" " No, No !" replied Crawford, anxiously, " my son is in the rear yet : I have not been able to hear of him in front! Do not leave me, Doctor, my horse has almost giv en out; I cannot keep up with the troops, and wish a few of my best friends to stay with me!" Knight assured him, that he might rely upon his sup port in any extremity} and drew up his horse by his side. Colonel Crawford still remained upon the same spot, cal- ling loudly for his son, until the last straggler had passed. He then in strong language reprobated tjae conduct of the militia, in breaking their ranks, and abandoning the woun* ded, but quickly returned to the subject of his son, and ap- peared deeply agitated at the uncertainty of his fate. Perceiving, however, that further delay must terminate in death or captivity, the party set spurs to their horses and followed the route of the troops. Presently an old man and a lad joined them. Crawford eagerly asked if they had seen his son or nephews? They assured him that they had not, upon which he sighed deeply, but made no reply. At this instant, a heavy fire was heard at the distance of a mile in front, accompanied by yells, screams, and all the usual attendants of battle. Not a doubt was enter- tained that the Indians had intercepted the retreat of the main body, and were now engaged with them. Having lost all confidence in his men, Crawford did not choose to unite his fortune to theirs, and changed his course, to the northward, in such a manner as to leave the combatants upon the right. He continued in this direction for nearly an hour, until he supposed himself out of the immediate 134 WESTERN ADVEJNfTURE. line of the enemy's operations, when he again changed his course to the eastward, moving as rapidly as possible, with an interval of twenty paces between them, and stea- dily regulating their route by the north star. The boy who accompanied them was brisk and active, but the old man constantly lagged behind, and as constantly shouted aloud for them to wait for him. They often remonstrated with him on the impropriety of making so much noise, at a time when all their lives depended upon secrecy and celerity, and he repeatedly promised to do so no more. At length, upon crossing Sandusky creek, the old man found himself once more considerably in the rear, and once more shouted aloud for them to wait, until he could come up. Before they could reply a halloo was heard, in the rear of their left, and apparently not more than one hundred paces from the spot where the old man stood. Supposing it to be the cry of an Indian, they remained still and silent for several minutes, looking keenly around them in the expectation of beholding an enemy. Every thing, however, continued silent. The old man was heard no more, and whether he escaped, or was killed, could nev- er be ascertained. The party continued their flight until daybreak, when Colonel Crawford's horse and that of the boy, sunk under their riders, and were abandoned. Continuing their journey on foot, they quickly fell in with Captain Biggs, an expert woodsman and gallant offi- cer, who, in the universal scattering, had generously brought off a wounded officer. Lieutenant Ashley, upon his own horse, and was now composedly walking by his side, with a rifle in his hand and a knapsack upon his shoulders. This casual meeting was gratifying to both parties, and they icon tinned their journey with renewed spirits. At three o'clock in the afternoon a heavy rain fell, and compelled them to encamp. A temporary shelter was quickly formed by barking several trees, after the manner of the Indians, and spreading the bark over poles so as to form a roof. A fire was then kindled, and the rain continued to pour down in torrents. They remained here through the night, without any accident. Continuing their route on the following morning, at the WILLIAM CRAWFORD. IM .lietanee af three miles from the camp^ they found a deer, which had recently been killed and skinned. The meat was neatly sliced and bundled up in the skin — and a toma- hawk lay near — giving room for suspicion that Indians were in the neighborhood. As the whole party had fast- ed for thirty six hours, this was a very acceptable treat, and lifting the skin, with the meat enclosed from the ground, they carried it with them until they had leisure to cook it. Having advanced a mile further, they observed a smoke in the woods, before them. The party instantly halted, while Colonel Crawford and Dr. Knight advanced to reconnoiter. Cautiously approaching the fire, they found it burning brightly, but abandoned, from which they inferred that a party had encamped there the preceding night, and had retired a few minutes before their approach. Having carefully examined the bushes around, and dis- covered no Indian sign, they directed their friends in the rear to come up, and quickly set about preparing break- fast*, In a few minutes they observed a white man, skulk- ing in the rear, examining the trail and apparently very shy of approaching them. Calling out to him in a friend- ly tone, they invited him to approach without fear, assiiring him that they were countrymen and friends. The man instantly complied, and informed them that he had killed the deer which they were cooking, but hearing them ap- proach, be had taken them for enemies, and had fled into the bushes for concealment. Highly pleased at this further accession to their strength, the party breakfasted heartily upon the deer, and continued their march. By noon, they had reached the path by which the army had marched a few days before, in their advance upon the Indian towns, and some discussion took place as to the propriety of taking that road homeward. Biggs and the doctor strenuously insisted upon continuing their course through the woods, and avoiding all paths, but Crawford overruled them, assuring them that the Indians would not urge the pursuit beyoind the plains, which were already far behind. Unfortunately, the colonel prevailed ; vidow, in Bourbon county, became the scene of an adven- ture, which we think deserves to be related. She occu- pied what is generally called a double cabin, in a lonely part of the county, one room of which was tenanted by the old lady herself, together with two grown sons, and a widowed daughter, at that time suckling an infant, while the other was occupied by two unmarried daughters from sixteen to twenty years of age, together with a little girl* not more than half grown. The hour was 11 o'clock at night. One of the unmarried daughters was still busily engaged at the loom, but the other members of the family, with the exception of one of the sons, had retired to rest. Some symptoms of an alarming nature had engaged the attention of the young man for an hour before any thing of a decided character took place. The cry of owls were heard in the adjoining wood, an- swering each other in rather an unusual manner. The horses, which were enclosed as usual in a pound near the house, were more tliari commonly excited, and by repeated snorting and galloping, announced the presence of some object of terror. The young man was often upon the point of awakening his brother, but was as often restrained 180 WESTERN ADVENTURE by the fear of incurring ridicule and the reproach of timidi ty, at that time an unpardonable blemish in the character of a Kentuckian. At length hasty steps v/ere heard in the yard, and quickly afterwards, several loud knocks at the door, accompanied by the usual exclamation, " who keeps house?" in very good English. The young man, supposing from the language, that some benighted settlers were at the door, hastil}'^ arose, and was advancing to v/ith- draw the bar v/hicli secured it, when his mother who ha,d long lived upon the frontiers, and had probably detected the Indian tone in the demand for admission, instantly sprung out of bed, and ordered her son not to admit them, declaring that they were Indians. She instantly awakened her other son, and the two young men seizing their guns, which Vv^ere ahvays charg- ed, prepared to repel the enemy. The Indians fmding it impossible to enter under their assumed characters, began to thunder at the door with great violence, but a single shot from a loop hole compelled them to shift the attack to some less exposed point; and, unfortunately, they discover- ed the door of the other cabin, which contained the three daughters. The rifles of the brothers could not be brought to bear upon this point, and by means of several rails taken from the yard fence, the door was forced from its hinges, and the three girls v/ere at the mercy of the sava- ges. One was instantly secured, but the eldest defended herself desperately with a knife which she had been using at the loom, and stabbed one of the Indians to the heart; before she v/as tomaha,wked. In the mean time the little girl, who had been overlook- ed by the enemy in their eagerness to secure the others. ran out into the yard, and might have effected her escape^ had she taken advantage of the darkness and fled, but in- ' stead of that the terrified little creature ran around the house v/ringing her hands, and crying out that her sisters were killed. The brothers, unable to hear her cries, with- out risking every thing for her rescue, rushed to the door and were preparing to saliy out to her assistance, when, their mother threw herself before them and calmly declar- ed that the child must be abandoned to its fate ; that the WIDOW SCRAGGS, 181 sally would sacrifice the lives of all the rest withovit the slightest benefit to the little girl. Just then the child ut- tered a loud scream, followed by a few faint moans and all was again silent- Presentl}^ the crackling of flames was heardj accompanied by a triumphant yell from the Indians, announcing that they had set fire to that division of the house which had been occupied by the daughters, and of which they held undisputed possession. The fire was quickly communicated to the rest of tho building, an