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JOHN's FIGHT WITH THE- BEAR. Page 79.





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THE FRONTIER SERIES.
PLANTING THE WILDERNESS;
OR,
THE PIONEER BOYS.


A STORY OF FRONTIER LIFE.
BY
JAMES DI. McCABE, JR."


BOSTON:
LE]E-  ANMWID SI-H EPARnD.
18 7 0.





Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by
LEE AND SHEPARD,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
ELECTROTYPED AT THE
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,
19 Spring Lane.





PREFACE.


THE author has endeavored to present in these pages a
faithful picture of the life and trials of those brave men and
women who drove out the savage from the great West, and
laid the foundations of that mighty empire, of which we
Americans of to-day are justly so proud. This portion of
our history has been too much neglected, and it is hoped
that this little work will induce many a young American to
inform himself of the events of that part of our country's
career which we call our pioneer history. It is believed that
the picture presented herein is " true to life," for, although
the characters are fictitious, the incidents related are based
upon actual occurrences, and there are persons still living
in the Ohio valley, who can testify to the general truthfulness of the narrative.               J. D. McC., JR.
NEW YORK, October, 1, 1869.
(3)










THE FRONTIER SERIES.
FOUR VOLUMES, ILLUSTRATED.
1. The Cabin on the Prairie. By Rev. C. H. PEAYsoN.
Price $1.25.
2. Planting the Wilderness; or, THE PIONEER BOYS.
By J. D. McCABE. Price $1.25.
3. A Thousand Miles' Walk Across South America.
By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. Price $1.50.
4. Twelve Nights in the Hunters' Camp. By Rev.
WM. BARROWS. Price $1.25.










CONTENTS.


CHAPTE1
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
Xii.


R




LEAVING THE OLD HOME..
THE EMIGRANTS...
BUILDING AND CLEARING...
THE SETTLEMENT....
THE FORT.......
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.
THE "TOMAHAWK RIGHT."..
BORDER WAR....
THE SCOUT......
THE SIEGE.....
THE CAPTURE..  o             e
THE TORTURE.....
JOHN'S WEDDING..
(7)


PAGE
*  9
16
S24
38. 6
84
131. 155
183
~ 214
227
2. 44










PLANTING     THE   WILDERNESS.
CHAPTER I.
LEAVING THE OLD HOME.
IN the early spring of the year of our Lord
1773, there lived on the Upper Potomac, in the
County of Loudon, in the then Colony of Virginia, a man by the name of Thomas Oxenford.
He was a plain, honest, God-fearing man, and
was forty-four years old. He was of English
descent, and his parents had come originally to
Alexandria, from which place they had removed
to the County of Loudon, and had settled upon
a small farm, not far from where the town of
Leesburg now stands. Thomas Oxenford was
an only child, and, consequently, had inherited
the little property of his parents, who had died
(9)





10     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


in his thirtieth year; but this property, which
consisted of a tolerably stocked farm  of two
hundred acres of medium quality land, had
also come to him heavily encumbered by his
father's debts, and it proved, in the end, as
much of a burden as a profit.
Mr. Oxenford had married about a year previous to the death of his father, his last surviving parent, and, at the time of which I write,
his family consisted of himself and wife, two
sons, -John and Thomas, -aged respectively
fourteen and twelve years, and three daughters,
- Mary, Jane, and Rachel, - aged respectively
nine, six, and three years. This little flock
was his pride and delight, and I am sure there
never lived a family happier in each other.
They had, like all of us, their outside troubles,
and at this time these came upon them with
terrible force.
I have said that the Oxenford farm came to
its present owner encumbered with his father's
debts. These debts were very heavy, and for
fourteen years Mr. Oxenford had exerted him




LEAVING THE OLD HOMEO


II


self to pay them. He had reduced the amount
very greatly; but, by the spring of 1773, the
principal and interest of the aggregate claims
against him -amounted to very nearly the full
value of the farm, and his creditors threatened
that, as they saw no prospect of their payment,
they would seize his property for their own
protection, if their claims were not discharged
in another year. This brought matters to a
crisis; and, for a while, the future looked dark
enough to the poor man. But Thomas Oxenford was a Christian man; and when his
troubles were darkest, he sought the only arm
that is all-powerful to save, and God heard
him, as he hears the prayers of every soul
that seeks him, and brought him through his
troubles. Mr. Oxenford determined to sell his
farm, and was fortunate enough to find a cash
purchaser for it. With the money he received
for it he paid the last debt due upon it, and
then prepared to leave forever the home of his
own and his children's childhood. It cost him
a hard struggle to do this; for he loved the





12      PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
place dearly, both for its own sake and for the
many happy hours he had passed there with
his family. These ties, however, were broken,
and the little family prepared to seek a new
home.
After selling his farm, and paying the debts
upon it, Mr. Oxenford found that he had a little less than seventy-five pounds left.  This
was a small sum for a man of family; but it
was all he had to begin life afresh. To think
of remaining in the older portion of the colony
~under such circumstances he felt to be madness, and he resolved to cross the mountains,
and build up a home in the distant west. The
hardy pioneers of that section had fairly settled
the region lying along the lower waters of the
Monongehela River, and, in several instances,
had pushed their settlements as far west as the
left bank of the Ohio. The country was new;
but it had ceased to be the regular home of the
savages, who had abandoned all parts of Virginia, and withdrawn to what is now the State
of Ohio, and it was the place of all places





LEAVING THE OLD HOME.


13


which promised a rich reward to those who
had the courage and fortitude to come out and
conquer the wilderness. The savages, it is
true, made frequent incursions into this section;
but, as a general thing, they accomplished very
little, and the whites had gained a foothold
which every one felt was too firm to be forced
back.  Mr. Oxenford had heard rare stories
of the beauty and fertility of the Ohio Valley,
and had more than once contemplated a removal to it in case his difficulties came to the
worst, and had only been prevented from putting this plan into execution by two very natural feelings - namely, a desire to remain in
his old home, and a hope of conquering his ill
fortune without subjecting his family to the
hardships and inconvenience of such a removal; but now that there was no escape from
the necessity of making a change, he determined to lose no time in setting out. The season was favorable, for it was the last of
March, and by the first of April he hoped to
begin his journey. He found able helpers in





14


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


his wife and elder son. The brave woman was
a true matron of our heroic days; and, though
her heart bled at leaving forever the home in
which her happiest years had been spent, she
never murmured. Her only thought was to
lighten the cares that had fallen upon her husband; and she proved, in this trying time, the
value of a true wife and Christian woman.
John, the eldest child, was delighted at the
change. He had always wished to be an Indian hunter; and, as he could not be that just
yet, he was glad to have an opportunity to see
for himself something of pioneer life, boy-like,
looking always upon the brightest side of the
picture.
Well, there were many things to buy, and
very little to buy them with. The seventy odd
pounds left from the sale of the farm were increased to a hundred by the sale of such household goods as the family could not take with
them; but even this sum proved barely sufficient to procure everything necessary for the
change. There were provisions, ammunition,





LEAVING THE OLD HOME.


15


axes, guns, and a score of other different things
to purchase, and it was necessary to keep a little money with them to buy such things as they
might have need of on the journey, or during
their first season in their new home. Of the
stock on the farm, Mr. Oxenford kept only the
cow, three of the horses, and a dog. The last
was the children's pet, and he would not part
with it.
Everything was in readiness at last, and, at
sunrise on the first day of April, 1773, the adventurers turned their backs upon their old
home, which they were never to see again;
and, with a prayer to God that he would bless
their  undertaking, and   carry them   safely
through the perils and trials before them,
set their faces bravely toward the wilderness.





16     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


CHAPTER II.
THE EMIGRANTS.
MY young reader may think it a very easy
and very pleasant undertaking to journey from
the Potomac to the Ohio, for he may have
ridden  over the  route in the comfortable
coaches of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad,
or the Pennsylvania Road; but he must remember that the time of which I am writing
was long before the invention of steam, and
even before the stage coaches had made their
appearance west of the seaboard. At that
day there were no broad, firm roads over the
mountains, but in their place was merely the
"trail," as it was called, left by the ill-fated
expedition of General Braddock, and the military trail through Pennsylvania, by way of
Bedford and Fort Ligonier to Fort Pitt, the
site of the present city of Pittsburg. Very few





THE EMIGRANTS.


17


persons took the latter route, as it was the
longer of the two, and the majority followed
Braddock's road, which, though the inore difficult, was the more direct. It was this route
that the Oxenfords selected; and, after leaving Loudon, they travelled slowly through the
adjoining county to Winchester, in the Valley
of Virginia, then a mere hamlet, and little better than a frontier post.  Here Mr. Oxenford
purchased a few articles of necessity, which
he had not been able to procure at such short
notice on the Potomac, and the journey was
resumed in the direction of Fort Cumberland,
in Maryland.
The three horses were made to carry the
younger children and the household goods of
the family. Two of them were provided with
pack-saddles, upon which were loaded the
articles.to be transported; and the youngest
children, who could not walk, were placed
in hampers, one on each side of the horse,
and the hampers were made fast to the horse's
saddle. The pack-horses were led by John,
2





I8     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


the elder son. Thomas and Mary drove the
cow along, Brindle having been secured against
running away by means of a long rope which
the little fellow held in one hand, and the father
led the horse which carried the children, while
the mother walked by his side.  Thus they
travelled towards their new home. They made
slow progress at first; for the mother and children were unused to walking, and could not go
far without resting.  The weather was unusually fair, and it seemed as if Providence
was smiling on their venture, and was making
the way as pleasant for them   as possible.
Every evening towards sunset, having reached
some suitable place for passing the night, the
little band would halt-;and build a roaring fire,
and the mother, with the assistance of the
others, would prepare supper, which was often
made palatable by a dish of game which the
father or John would secure during the day.
Supper over, the family Bible was brought out,
and, by the light of the fire, Thomas Oxenford
would read to the little band gathered around





THE EMIGRANTS.


I9


him  those blessed words which   can  give
strength to the weak and courage to the fainthearted, and which can cheer the heart when
everything human has failed. Indeed, I think
God's Holy Word has never been so carefully
and constantly read by any persons as by those
who "planted the wilderness" in the early days
of which I am writing. It was not because it
was the only book they had that they studied
its pages so faithfully. They had a higher, a
more powerful motive. They felt as we, their
children, rarely feel, the power of the Lord
Jehovah, and their need of his aid. They had
gone out trusting in him, and they had every
day proof that without him they could do nothing. We, with our comforts and "modern improvements," are too apt to forget, and still
more apt to fail to acknowledge, this dependence. But our forefathers were wiser than
we. Having finished the chapter, Mr. Oxenford would ask God's blessing on their undertaking, and his guidance on their lonely way,
and then the dim forest would ring with the





20     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


strains of some sweet old hymn--words they
could not sing without tears; for they carried
them back to their old home, which they would
see no more forever. Then they went to rest
--the children wrapped in their blankets, and
laid on beds of forest leaves, and the older
members of the family finding their beds on
the ground. One member was always awake,
to keep up the fire, which was a safeguard
against wild beasts, and to see that no danger
befell the sleepers.  This duty was generally
performed by the parents and the elder son.
John, being unused to vigils such as these, was
given what the sailors call the " dog watch,"
or, in other words, he stood guard from the
family bed-time till ten o'clock.  Then his
mother relieved him, and his father relieved
her at two o'clock, giving the wife and son the
longest times for sleep. At sunrise, the next
day, the camp was astir, and the day was
opened, as the previous one had closed, with
prayer and praise. Then followed breakfast,
after which the journey was resumed.





THE EMIGRANTS.


2I


In due time, Fort Cumberland, where now
stands the thriving city of Cumberland, in
Maryland, was reached and passed, and in
a few  days our emigrants had crossed the
Monongehela, near its junction with the Youghiogeny. They were now fairly over the
Allegheny Mountains, and were very near
the scene of Braddock's defeat in Western
Pennsylvania.  This region was beginning
to attract settlers; but Mr. Oxeriford was desirous of going farther west; so, leaving Braddo'ck's trail, at the point where he crossed the
Monongehela, he journeyed towards the Ohio,
which he reached, a few days later, at a point
about twenty-five miles below the site of the
present city of Wheeling, the capital of the
State of West Virginia.
It so happened that he came in sight of the
Ohio near the mouth of Fish Creek. Pleased
with the beauty of the country, and detecting,
at a glance, - for he was a thorough farmer,
--the good qualities of the soil, he determined
to make this section his home. He could not





22     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


have chosen a better time for his first view
of the country. It was the middle of April,
and the spring was far advanced. The grass
was grown, and it covered the whole earth
with a robe of the richest green -a hue which
the shade of the hills that shut in the valley
seemed to deepen.   The dogwood blossoms
were out, and the buttercups and wild violets
were sparkling all through the grass.  The
breeze which swept down from the hills was
balmy and sweet, and the very breath of it
seemed to give new    life to our emigrants.
They paused involuntarily on a little knoll
commanding a distant view of the river and
creek, and simultaneously they exclaimed that
they had found their home. It had been twenty days since they had left their old home in
Loudon, and now they had reached the end
of their wanderings.
Deeming it imprudent to locate himself so
near the river, as the sight of his dwelling, when
built, might prove a constant temptation to the
Indians on the opposite side of the Ohio, Mr.





THE EMIGRANTS.              23
-Oxenford determined to go a mile or so farther
up the creek; and, following the shore, they
reached, by nightfall, a spot about six miles
from the river, where they determined to locate
themselves.  It was too late, however, to do
anything that night, and the family went to
rest early, determined to rise the next morning with the lark, and lay the foundation of
their future home.





24     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


CHAPTER     III.
BUILDING AND CLEARING.
WORN out by the long journey and the
fatigue of the previous day, Mr. Oxenford, to
whom was assigned the morning watch, fell
asleep by the fire towards daybreak. He was
aroused by some one placing a hand on his
shoulder.  Starting up in alarm, he seized
his gun, and looked about him. There was
no one near but John, who was laughing
at his father's alarm. The sun was shining
brightly, but the other members of the family
were still sleeping.
"Why, father," said John, laughing, "you
look as though you expected to see an Indian."
"To tell the truth, I did," said Mr. Oxenford, laying down his gun with an air of relief. " I deserved to be surprised for sleeping
on my post. It is the first time, however, and





BUILDING AND CLEARING.


25


it shall be the last.  But what are you so
happy about?"
" O, father," cried the boy, rubbing his hands,
gleefully," the creek is full of fish-full of fish."
"We shall have to let the fish alone for a
while, my boy," said Mr. Oxenford.    "After
we get our house started, we can turn our
attention to the fish. Now let us wake your
mother and the children, and have breakfast."
Mrs. Oxenford and her children were soon
awakened, and in less than an hour they were
all seated at breakfast, having washed their
faces in the clear waters of the creek, and given
thanks to the Creator for his goodness to them.
Breakfast over, the next thing was to prepare
for building a dwelling.
The family had encamped, on the previous
night, upon a slight hill, at a distance of a
few hundred yards from the creek, and sloping
down to it; and Mr. Oxenford decided, after a
brief survey, to make their camping-ground
the site of their home. There was no time to
be lost about it, and, taking his axe, the settler





26     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


commenced to clear the summit of the hill.
John was eager to assist in this work, and as
there were two axes at hand, his father gave
him one, and the brave boy fell to work with
a will. He was well grown for his age, and
was as strong as a young bullock. His sturdy
blows told well on the trees, and he managed
his work so well that he bade fair to rival his
father in the task before them.  Two days
were passed in this manner, and on the morning of the third day, Mr. Oxenford said they
had cut timber enough, and must now proceed
to prepare the logs for building. This was
another two days' task, and on the morning of
the fifth day they had piled their logs ready
for use, and had split boards or slabs enough
from the larger trees to form the roof and floor
of their new dwelling. Then came the clearing up of the ground, which occupied another
day; and the sixth day, which happened to be
Saturday, was passed in boring the logs with
an auger, wherever it was necessary to do so,
and making wooden pins to fasten the work





BUILDING AND CLEARING.


27


together, for there were no nails within reach
of the settlers. Sunday was a day of rest; and,
in the absence of a church, the pious 'father
called his family around him, and, after a
prayer, a hymn, and a chapter from the Bible,
spoke to them upon such subjects as he deemed
most appropriate to the day and to their situation.
Monday morning they were all up bright
and early. The ground was swept free from
the leaves which had fallen upon it, and the
father and mother and the two boys commenced to build the house, while Mary, the
eldest daughter, looked after her little sisters.
They worked bravely, and by nightfall they
had done fully half the work. By a dexterous
use of his saw and hatchet, Mr. Oxenford made
the logs and the slab-floor fit admirably; and
Mrs. Oxenford and the boys assisted him in
arranging them, and fastening the pins in their
places. There was an abundance of stones,
of all sizes, along the shore of the creek, and
these furnished the means of constructing a





28     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


hearth and a chimney, while the mud, which
soon hardened, formed a very handy mortar for
holding the stones together, and filling up the
crevices between the logs. By the afternoon
of the third day, Wednesday, the roof was on,
and the house almost ready for occupancy.
My readers must not imagine that this was a
very roomy mansion, or that the task of building it was a very light one. It took nearly a
fortnight to clear the ground, and build the
house, which was nothing more than a plain
log cabin, such as some of you may have seen
in the mountains, or in the far south, on the
plantations.  It had but two rooms on the
ground floor, and a loft above, which was
reached by means of a rough ladder, which
the boys made. There was one window in the
side looking from the creek; but as such a
thing as window glass was not to be had, the
opening was closed by means of a stout slab
shutter, or blind. This window could be used
for the purpose of giving light only in warm
weather, and during a rain, or the cold season,





BUILDING AND CLEARING.?9


it would have to remain closed. The floor was
made of rough slabs, partially planed down,for Mr. Oxenford had been thoughtful enough
to bring with him a small stock of carpenter's
tools,-and the roof was constructed of heavy
clapboards, which he had split from the trees,
and the underside of which he lined with a kind
of thatching of pine boughs and dry grass. To
be sure, it was not such a dwelling as they had
left behind, beyond the mountains; but it was
a shelter, and that was a great thing to persons
who had been living in the open air for more
than a month. The walls were rough, and the
long streaks of mud which filled the crevices
between the logs looked bad enough; but, on
the whole, the cabin presented a tolerably fair
appearance, and, more than this, it was the
work of their own hands, and they were very
well satisfied with it. Some weeks afterwards
the appearance of the walls was improved by
nailing, with wooden pins, a row of wooden
strips along the "chinks" of mud. This was
also an additional comfort,; as it made the cab




30     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


in much warmer. The door, which was also
made of slabs, was swung on a wooden hinge,
and fastened by day with a latch, and at night
by means of a heavy bar cross it inside.
Mrs. Oxenford had been careful to bring
with her the ticking of her beds, and while the
cabin was building, she had gathered leaves
and dry grass, which she had carefully spread
and dried again in the sun; and by the time
the cabin was finished, she had collected and
dried enough to make beds for all the family.
She and the younger boy filled the tickings,
and carried them into the cabin, where they
were laid on the floor, and on Saturday night
the little family had the satisfaction of sleeping
in their new home.
The next Monday, the house being finished,
Mr. Oxenford set about clearing up a patch
of land, in order to plant the seed-corn he had
brought with him. It was early in May, and
he was in good season for his planting. He
had brought with him a supply of corn-meal,
which he hoped would last, by careful economy,





BUILDING AND CLEARING.


31


until the first crop should be grown. He
determined to locate his cornfield in the bottom  land, bordering on the creek, rightly
judging that this low land was richer than
that on the hills. He selected a piece about
six acres in extent, - a very respectable plantation for a pioneer, - and commenced to clear
it up. Fortunately, there were very few trees
on this part of the land. It was covered
mostly with a low undergrowth of weeds and
pawpaw   bushes, which did not require so
much exertion as the cutting down of trees.
The work to be done consisted principally of
what the farmers call grubbing;" and even
the children could assist in this, so that in
another week the land was ready for planting.
The trouble now was to make a plough; but
John, who was very much of a mechanical
genius, soon remedied this by taking his father's
tools, and making a very good substitute for an
iron tiller of the soil. To be sure the plough
had a wooden point; but then the boy had chosen
a piece of tough maple, and had done his work





32     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


so well that there was no doubt that the plough
would answer for one season, at least. The
ground was soft, and almost black with fertility,
and would only require to be broken a little;
and so, though it was slow work, John's plough
answered the purpose admirably. The construction of a harrow was an easier task; and
this the boy performed while his father was
ploughing the land. He fastened the triangular
frame of the harrow with wooden pegs, and
made the teeth of stout oaken pins, which he
drove in the auger holes he had bored in the
frame. The harrow answered as well as the
plough, and by the twentieth of May the corn
was planted. The next thing in order was to
plant the potatoes which they had brought out.
An acre of land adjoining the cornfield was
laid off, and, thanks to John's plough and harrow, this was soon planted.
Meanwhile, John had worked hard. He
had made his mother a table, which consisted
of a large slab of wood, supported on four
sticks, two at each end, stuck in as many auger





BUILDING AND CLEARING.


33


holes. This answered for their meals, and for
the household work. They had brought out
their cooking utensils and some tin ware with
them, and were well supplied with these articles.
John made stools, which were miniature copies
of the table, and a row of shelves, which he
put up with creditable neatness. He drove a
row of pegs along the wall, to answer the place
of a clothes-press, and helped his father to miake
a rough bedstead for each of their three beds.
These things were done during such moments
as they could spare from other work, and by
the beginning of the summer they had provided
almost everything that was absolutely necessary
to their comfort. To be sure, these things were
very rough, but they answered their purpose,
and that was all that was required of them.
By this time a little patch had been laid off
for a garden, and planted with such garden
seed as they had brought with them. Their
corn-meal continued to hold out, and the fish in
the creek proved to be of the finest kind, such
as "jack," bass, and pike, with an abundance
3





34     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


of fresh-water herrings and suckers.    The
boys attended to this duty, and rarely a day
passed that they did not bring in a fine mess
with their little seine.
The cow, the horses, and the pigs-for I
had forgotten to mention that the family had
brought with them a pair of fine swine for the
purpose of raising their pork - were kept up,
the pigs in a pen, and the other animals tied
to trees. The land afforded the best possible
grazing, and to little Thomas, who was too
young to do much of the work allotted to the
rest, was given the task of seeing that the
animals were fed and watered, and prevented
from running off.
John, as I have said, was a good-sized boy.
He could handle the plough, the carpenter's
tools, and the rifle, almost as well as his father;
and, as I have shown, he was of the greatest
assistance to his parents. His disposition was
lively and cheerful, and no matter how hard
was his. work, he was never cast down.
Everything seemed bright and cheering to him.





BUILDING AND CLEARING,


35


He said he meant to persevere, and that after
a while the country would be settled, and he
would make a fortune, and build a fine house
where they had located their cabin - a resolution which he literally carried out fifty years
later.
One morning, soon after their arrival at Fish
Creek, Mrs. Oxenford saw John come up to
the cabin quickly, take his gun and go off
silently and rapidly. His father's orders against
wasting ammunition were very strict, and as
she saw the eager look on the boy's face, she
felt a momentary alarm, for fear there was
danger from the Indians. She called after Johnt
to come back; but he was too far to hear her,
and she stood in the cabin door, watching him
as he disappeared into the woods' and anxiously
waiting to learn what would follow. In a
few minutes she heard the report of his rifle,
followed by a loud hurrah, in a tone so gleeful
that it dispelled her fear at once; and the next
instant John dashed out of the woods, dragging
something after him, and, coming towards his





36     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


mother at full speed, laid in triumph at her feet
an immense wild turkey.
" I killed him myself, mother," said the boy,
proudly. "Isn't he a fine fellow? And look,
what a splendid shot; I aimed for his eye,
and I've hit him fair in the head."
It was, indeed, a "fine fellow," and the boy
had a right to be proud. He had seen the
turkey in the woods, and had determined on
securing it. It was their first game since their
arrival, and it lasted them for nearly three days.
After this, they had an abundance of game,
consisting of wild turkeys, squirrels, and, once
or twice, a deer. The country was full of
such provisions, and Mr. Oxenford said, after he
had finished clearing up his place, he would
set to work to lay in a supply of venison.
Thus the weeks passed away. Every one
worked, - for there was no room for idlers in
such a community, - and by the middle of
August they had built and furnished their cabin,
and a stable, which they thatched with pine
boughs, for the horses and the cow, and which





THE Y-OUNG H-UNTER'S FIRST WILD TURKEY. Page 36.










BUILDING AND CLEARING.        37
they located but a few yards from the house.
Adjoining the stable they built a crib, in which
to stow away their corn for the winter, after it
was harvested, and had commenced to form a
wood-pile near the cabin, which should constitute their stock of fuel for the winter.





38     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


CHAPTER IV.
THE SETTLEMENT.
LITTLE Thomas had taken the cattle oiut
to graze, one morning, and half an hour after
his departure he came running back at full
speed.
"Father, father," he  shouted, "come see
th' big cow that's down at the creek. Come
quick!"
Mr. Oxenford took down his rifle from the
bracket on the wall, and, following the little
fellow, who was eager to act as guide, hastened down to the creek. As he came in sight
of it, he saw a large buffalo drinking at the
water's edge. The animal was utterly unconscious of the presence of a human being, and
was drinking leisurely.  Mr. Oxenford had
suspected the nature of the stranger as soon
as his son had called it a cow, and he was





THE SETTLEMENT.


39


eager to secure the prize. Bidding Thomas
conceal himself behind a tree, and keep very
still, he crept cautiously towards the animal,
until he came within easy range of it. Then,
taking his position where he could see without
being seen by the beast, he prepared to take
advantage of its movements.    The buffalo,
however, seemed in no hurry; for when he
had finished drinking, he walked into the
creek a little way, and stood with the water
reaching to his keees, as if to cool his legs
and hoofs, for the day was warm. Mr. Oxenford feared he would continue his course, swim
the creek, and thus escape him; but this fear
was soon dispelled, for the animal turned
quietly, and came back to the shore. Pausing there for a moment, he lowered his head
to cross the fresh grass that grew close to the
water.  Now was the hunter's opportunity,
and, aiming his rifle carefully, Mr. Oxenford
fired. The ball struck the buffalo just back
of the ear, and the huge animal fell over on
his side, struggling feebly, and trying to rise.





40


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


The next moment Mr. Oxenford had drawn his
hunting-knife across its throat, making a deep
gash from ear to ear, from which the blood
gushed in a perfect stream.    The buffalo
ceased his struggles, and, with a spasmodic
quiver, fell back dead. H-e was a huge animal, and would have been worth a small fortune to a butcher in these modern days of high
prices; and Mr. Oxenford resolved that he
would get the full value of the brute.
Going back to the cabin, he removed his
outer garments, that he might not soil them,
and took the largest tin pail, and the hatchet,
which he meant to use in place of a cleaver,
and, calling John to help him, went back to
the spot where he had left the buffalo. The
father and son were novices in the task before
them; but they went at it with a determination that made up for their lack of practice,
and by sunset they had stripped the animal of
his hide, and had cut off all the meat that they
could use for the present, and a large quantity
that they designed for curing. The hide and





THE SETTLEMENT.


41


horns were carefully washed and put away,
and the remains of the animal were cast into
the creek, where they either sank from sight
or floated away on the current. They had a
fine breakfast and dinner the next day on
" Tom's cow," as they called it; and what could
not be kept for use next day - and this was
fully nine tenths of the meat - was suspended
from a young sapling over a smoke made by
a quantity of green hickory chips being heaped
on a slow fire. This process of curing was
very simple and easily performed, and by
means of it they were able to preserve their
meat for use whenever they needed it. In this
same way they cured much venison during
the year.
It lacked but four weeks until the harvesting season, when a trouble, which had not
been foreseen, occurred.
"Thomas," said Mrs. Oxenford, one day,
her face wearing a graver look than it had
ever worn, " what shall we do for bread? Our
corn-meal is gone, and we can get no more
until the harvest."





42     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


"We'll have to live on meat until then, old
lady," said her husband, cheerily.  W've got
a plenty of that, I am   glad to know, and
there's no danger of our starving."
Those of my readers who have never been
compelled to go without bread can hardly tell
what it is to be deprived of it. The Oxenfords
were not slow in finding out that it was indeed the " staff of life." After living on meat
alone for several days, it became sickening and
distasteful to them, and at the end of a week
they became sickly.    Their stomachs were
always uncomfortable; that is, they had a feeling of emptiness, and were always tormented
by a sensation of hunger. John, who always
tried to make the best of their troubles, called
the lean breast of the wild turkey bread, and
the other flesh, such as venison and dried
beef, meat; but though they tried to be satisfied with the substitute, none of them  could
fully withstand the consequences of the absence of the real bread. How anxiously they
watched the cornfield and the little garden for





THE SETTLEMENT.


43


the first roasting ears and vegetables! and
what a jubilee they had when John brought
in the first ear of young corn, and his father
said they would now have roasting ears and
boiled corn until the harvest came! This was
an improvement on their previous situation,
and was soon followed by the ripening of the
vegetables in the garden. Every one began
to grow strong and vigorous again.
As the harvest drew near, a new difficulty
presented itself to the family.  They would
have plenty of corn; but how were they to
convert it into meal? This question was soon
settled by Mrs. Oxenford, who suggested a
plan which afterwards was put into execution.
Taking one of the tin pails, Mr. Oxenford,
at his wife's suggestion, carefully removed
the bottom, and then, cutting the side of the
remainder, he laid the sheet of tin out flat
on a board, and by means of a punch cut a
number of holes in the sheet. In this way
he made a sort of rude grater, and bending it
to a semicircular form, he nailed it to a block





44     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


of wood with bits of nails made from the wire
which had formed the handle of the pail. After the harvest was gathered in, this primitive
mill was tried, and it was found to answer tolerably well. The corn was taken in the ear,
and rubbed over the rough side of the grater,
and was thus grated to a fineness sufficient for
the manufacture of johnny-cakes and coarse
pones, or pieces of corn-bread worked and
shaped with the hands. The meal made by
the use of this grater was not as fine as that
they had brought with them    from  the old
colony; but still it was meal, and gave them
bread.
The harvest was gathered in in due time,
and it was bountiful, proving far more than
would be sufficient for the family until the next
season. The corn was husked and piled up
in the "crib," which barely held it, and the
potatoes were stowed away, when gathered,
in a cellar which was dug near the house.
The fodder was stacked close by the stable,
and this, with the corn-husks, gave the assur




THE SETTLEMENT.


45


ance of a plentiful supply of provender for
the cattle, and there remained nothing but to
prepare the wood-pile for the winter; and by
the time the cold weather had fairly set in,
this, too, was accomplished. So, one bright
autumn morning, when the harvest was in, and
everything was in readiness for the long winter which was coming, Mr. Oxenford declared
they would devote one day to rest from all
labor, and make it the occasion for returning
thanks to the Almighty for the blessings he
had showered upon them.     This was done,
and it was the first "Thanksgiving Day" observed on the banks of the Ohio. They had
everything to be thankful for.  The Lord's
hand had led them to one of the most desirable portions of the west, and had kept them
safely ever since. There had been no sickness
in their midst, and they had been called upon
to endure only the ordinary hardships of the
settler's life. They had been successful in all
their undertakings, and were now in a condition to look  forward to the winter without
dreading it.





46      PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
Thomas Oxenford was especially grateful.
At the beginning of the spring he was without a -home for his family, and the owner of
but a little over seventy pounds sterling. Now
he had made a home for his little flock, and
was the proprietor of four hundred acres of
the land surrounding his cabin, which was
the freehold given by the laws of the colony
to every settler who should build a house and
raise a crop of grain on any unoccupied land
west of the Allegheny Mountains.   Besides
this, his act of settlement gave him a pre-emption right to one thousand acres more of the
adjoining land; and all that remained for him
to do was to fix upon the boundaries of his
land, so as to avoid difficulties with the settlers
who might follow him. It was true that this
land had yet to be cleared up and cultivated,
and that this involved much toil and hardship
for his family; but still they had a home, and
the certainty of making a livelihood, however
plain and humble it might be.
The "Thanksgiving Day" was drawing to





THE SETTLEMENT.


47


a close, and the little family were gathered
around their evening meal,-for this was always served before dark in those days, - when
they were startled by a loud "halloo" from
without. It had been so long since they had
heard any human voices but their own, that
they started to their feet in alarm, and rushed
to the door. Their astonishment was complete
when they saw, standing a few yards from
them, a party of men, women, and children
and seven or eight horses, loaded with goods
of various kinds. The sight was so novel and
unexpected that both parties stared at each
other for some moments in silence. At. last
Mr. Oxenford went forward, and, greeting the
new comers cordially, - for he was glad to see
some of his own species besides his family after
so long an absence from them, - asked, -
"Well, my friends, what are you doing
here?"
" We came here to settle, stranger," said
one of the men; "but it seems you've got
ahead of us."





48     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


"There's land enough for all of us, and
many more," said Mr. Oxenford, laughing, in
spite of himself, at the disappointment evinced
by the man. "You shall all stay here with
us to-night, and to-morrow we'll see what we
can do."
The new comers were emigrants from the
upper portion of Maryland and Virginia, and
consisted of four families, numbering in all
about twenty-six people, of whom ten were
men and half-grown boys. The heads of these
families were people in the prime of life, - the
very best material for pioneers, - and there
were no very young children in the party.
They had met by accident while crossing the
mountains, and had concluded to cast their
lot together, rather than  separate, thinking
rightly that they could accomplish more by
united than by independent exertions. They
had supposed they were the first who had penetrated this region, until they saw the clearing and cabin of Mr. Oxenford, and were
astonished to find such deep traces of civil




THE SETTLEMENT.


49


ization where they expected to see nothing
but the wilderness, and they were profuse
in their praise of the settlers' industry and
energy. They brought with them an abundance of provisions, and among other things
had a large quantity of salt, which they
agreed to share with the Oxenfords for a supply of their corn.
The women and youngest children were
made comfortable in the cabin during the
night, and the male portion of the little community encamped in the yard, for the weather
was still sufficiently mild and favorable for
them to do so. The new comers had just left
the older colonies, and they had an abundance
of news to communicate. The troubles with
the mother country were then agitating the
new world, and the emigrants were loud in
their denunciation of the course pursued by
Great Britain. One family had come from the
neighborhood in which the Oxenfords had
lived, and were able to tell them about their
friends east of the mountains. The night was
4





50     PLANTING THE WILDERNESSo


far spent when they sought their beds, and
each felt grateful to Providence for having
drawn them together.
The next morning they were up early, and,
breakfast over, the heads of the different families assembled with Mr. Oxenford to consult
as to their future movements. It was agreed
that it was impossible for any one to cultivate
all the land to which he was entitled, and that
it would be better for them to unite in clearing
up a number of acres, and cultivate that in
common until they were fairly settled. They
could lay off their lands, and after they had
thoroughly arranged their settlement they could
divide the land and cultivate it separately.
This arrangement would be in force for about
one or two years, and should their settlement
be increased in the mean while by the addition
of other emigrants, they could pursue a similar
plan towards them. Acting upon this conclusion, they at once proceeded to lay off their
lands; and as they were all practical farmers,
they succeeded in forming a proximate idea of





THE SETTLEMENT.


5I


the quantity of land necessary to make up four
hundred acres to each man. They wisely
determined that 'their farms should have a
narrow frontage on the creek, which would
bring them   nearer together, and that their
length should be the longer line of boundary.
This mode of arrangement made the Oxenford farmi the centre of the little settlement,
and it was determined to cultivate the creek
line first. This would enable them to join
their fields to that commenced by Mr. Oxenford, and they could all cultivate them in
common. The sites chosen for their cabins
were all on the ridge upon which the original
settlers had built theirs, and were located at
such easy distances that the farthest on the
right and left hand -the original cabin being
the centre - was only half a mile from  the
Oxenfords. The boundaries of the different
"claims," as they were called, were marked
by cutting the trees in a straight line for a
distance of half a mile back from the creek.
When these preliminaries were arranged,





52     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


the settlers prepared to clear up their land for
building. Instead of working separately at
this, they decided to unite. Lots were then
drawn to determine whose house should be
built first, and, having settled this matter, all
turned in with a will, and commenced the
building. Mr. Oxenford and John lent a willing assistance in this work, and this made a
force of twelve workers. After the trees were
felled, and the logs prepared, it was found
that this force was too much for one cabin,
and it was divided into parties of six each,
and in this way two cabins were put up at
the same time. In a week all the cabins
were finished, and the little settlement had
begun to assume a thriving and spirited appearance. The next week was given to building the stables and such- out-houses as were
necessary. The buildings were all situated
on the brow of the ridge that lay back at a
distance of several hundred yards from the
creek, and almost sixty yards from the woods.
They were all in sight of each other, and as





THE SETTLEMENT.


53


the new emigrants proved pleasant and industrious people, Mr. Oxenford was glad that his
family would now have something to relieve
the loneliness that all of them were beginning
to feel.
Later in the season other families arrived at
the settlement, and most of these went over to
the south side of Fish Creek, where they
built their dwellings and cleared their land,
so that by the time the winter had fairly set
in, the settlement had increased to ten families, or, in all, to nearly sixty persons.
The Oxenfords had, during this time, done
much to improve their condition. They had
made themselves comfortable by the addition
of a considerable amount of home-made furniture, which I am inclined to think my young
readers would consider very uncomfortable.
After the harvest they had emptied their beds
of their fillings of leaves and grass, and had
replaced them with the soft, dry husks of the
corn. This made an excellent bed, and was
a great improvement upon the leaves.





54


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


At last the cold weather set in. The winter is long and bleak in this portion of the
Ohio Valley, and it was fortunate that the
settlers had succeeded in making their preparations to withstand it. The wood-piles now
became more valuable in the eyes of their
owners than they had ever supposed they
would be. Having their fuel cut and piled
at their doors, they were saved the trouble of
cutting and hauling it in the deep snows.
The first snow was a treat to the younger
members of the community, for, though they
were pioneers, they were still boys, and were
as fond of sport as any of those of the present day. John Oxenford was a great authority among them, though several of them were
older than he, for his mechanical skill and
ingenuity were greater than those of his fellows; and when the snow came, he proposed
that they should make sledges at once, so
that they might have as much sport at coasting as they had enjoyed in their old homes.
The proposal was caught up eagerly, and in





THE SETTLEMENT.


55


spite of the cold and the blinding flakes, the
boys started out, hatchet in hand, to cut hickory saplings for runners, and by nightfall
they made full half a dozen sledges. They
were very rough, but they were strong, and
the hickory runners were scraped as smooth
as glass. I think the young people of to-day,
with their handsome "coasters," with brightlypainted sides, cushioned seats, and steel runners, would consider these frontier sledges but
a sorry show; but I doubt that they derive
any more enjoyment from    their costly toys
than did these sturdy little pioneers with their
home-made   substitutes.  The next day the
snow  ceased falling, and the clouds cleared
off, and with a shout the boys started for the
hill-side, where they were soon dashing down
the  slope  at a  speed  which  made their
mothers -who watched them from the cabin
doors - tremble for their limbs; but nobody
was hurt.   The boys had their fun. The
sledges were stout, and well made, and there
were no broken bones to mend. A few bruises





56


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


were gotten by some, but they were nothing.
And then, such fun as the youngsters had
with their snow-balls! It was a real treat to
see them.
"Now, fellows," said John Oxenford, when
the snow was gone, " we must get our traps
ready for the next snow-fall. There'll be lots
of rabbits about, and they'll come in very
handy, father says."
So it was arranged; and when the ground
was white again with the soft flakes, the traps
were set. The first day passed away without
success. Big Dan Whittaker, the son of one
of the settlers, was the first to catch a rabbit,
and the boys were wild with delight. There
was no envy of Dan's success among the
little fellows. Boys are slow to grudge each
other a triumph fairly won. Every one liked
Dan, for, awkward and overgrown as he was,
he was the very impersonation of generosity and good nature. He was John Oxenford's sworn friend, and the two were inseparable. They were like David and Jonathan,





THE SETTLEMENT.


57


and I am sure Dan would have risked his
life, willingly, to do John a service, and John
was equally as devoted. If one made a pawpaw whistle, or found a lot of ripe nuts, he
was sure to make a similar provision for the
other; and wherever you saw one, you might
be sure the other was close at hand.
During the winter, the supply of salt was
found to be running low, and it became necessary to send to the settlement at Wheeling,
about twenty-five miles higher up the Ohio
River, for more.   Mr. Oxenford and Mr.
Brady were chosen to go after it, and they
set out about the middle of January, taking
advantage of a temporary absence of snow.
They reached the little hamlet of Wheeling,
which had been settled a few years before,
about dark on the day after their departure
from Fish Creek. They found the place full
of rumors of trouble with the Indians. It was
said that the governor of the colony, Lord
Dunmore, was bent upon      destroying  the
savages as soon as the weather should be





58     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


favorable enough for the movement of the
troops. This news filled Mr. Oxenford with
grave uneasiness, and he sought an interview
with the officer in command of Fort Fincastle,
which was the name given to the work -
afterwards known as Fort Henry-that had
been erected for the defence of the village.
He explained to the commandant the exposed
situation of the settlement on Fish Creek, and
asked his advice as to the best course to be
pursued by himself and his neighbors.
Colonel -Shepherd,, the commandant of the
fort, informed him that the rumors he had
heard were, unfortunately, true, and that there
was no doubt that the Indians would cause
considerable trouble on the frontier in the
spring, if, indeed, they did not do so before
the close of the winter. He advised Mr. Oxenford to urge upon his neighbors the pro'priety of establishing some means of defence,
such as the building of a fort or stockade,
and as a means of assisting him in this undertaking, the colonel carried him over the work





THE SETTLEMENT.            59
under his command, and gave him       some
general ideas upon the subject. The colonel
was an old soldier, and had seen service in
the French wars, and his opinions were of
value to the settlers, who determined that they
would spare no effort to urge them upon their
neighbors.
The salt was obtained at a reasonable sum,
and the next day the two settlers returned
to Fish Creek, which they reached about
nightfall.





60     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


CHAPTER V.
THE FORT.
THE morning after the return of the two
settlers from Wheeling, a meeting of all the
adult males in the little settlement was held at
Mr. Oxenford's cabin, and that gentleman revealed to his neighbors the information he had
received from Colonel Shepherd. Since their
arrival at Fish Creek they had seen no one from
the other settlements, and were in total ignorance of the condition of affairs in the rest of
the country. They had been unmolested by
the Indians, not one of whom had appeared at
the settlement, and could hardly believe the
truth of Colonel Shepherd's statement, that the
savages were becoming very troublesome on
the border. Still, they agreed that it would be
most prudent to take some measure of a defensive nature, and it was finally determined to





THE FORT.


erect a fort for the protection of their families.
This was an undertaking Which would require
some little time, and it was decided to commence it at once. The weather was clear and
cold, and the ground was free from snow, so
that, by exerting themselves, they might at least
get through with a portion of the work before the
next fall of snow; and as Mr. Oxenford and Mr.
Brady had seen the fort at Wheeling, they were
appointed to superintend the construction of
the fortification. These deliberations occupied
about two hours of the morning, and as soon
as they were ended, the work was begun.
The first thing was to lay off the ground on
which the fort was to be built. The object
being to establish a place of refuge in times of
danger, the location would have to be convenient to all parts of the settlement, and therefore
it was decided to erect the work as nearly in
the centre of the little hamlet as possible. This
would make it convenient to the settlers south
of the creek, as well as to those north of the
stream. The site chosen was about fifty yards





62     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


west of the Oxenfords' cabin, and about seventy yards from the woods. It was the highest
point of the settlement, and commanded a view
of the entire neighborhood. It was but a few
yards from the spring which supplied the settlers with water, and was believed to be the
best defensive position that could be selected.
The younger boys were set to clearing off the
ground, and the men and older boys at once
went into the woods to cut the logs necessary
for the fort. An entire week was spent in cutting and hauling the logs, during which time
there was a slight flurry of snow, but not
enough to suspend the efforts of the workmen.
The next week the ground was staked off, and
the building was begun in earnest.
If my readers are under the impression that
the settlers at Fish Creek were about to attempt the construction of such a " fort" as those
of us who saw anything of our late war, or
who have seen the massive works which protect our sea-coast, are familiar with, they are
very much mistaken. A frontier fort was merely





THE FORT.


63


a stockade; and as the savages had no weapons
but rifles, this was found amply sufficient for
the defence of the pioneers.
The fort at Fish Creek was built upon the
plan generally adopted along the border. It
was a square in shape, with a block-house at
each corner. A row of five cabins was built
on the west side, and a similar row on the
east side; and as it was probable that the
settlement might be increased, or that settlers
in the neighborhood might seek shelter in the
fort, it was decided to erect a row of cabins
on the north side, while the south side was
fitted up as a row of stables for the stock. The
outer walls of these buildings were constructed
of heavy logs, in the same manner that the
dwellings in the settlement were built, except
that the chinks, after being filled up with mud,
were covered with stout oaken boards, in order
to make them bullet-proof. The walls were
twelve feet high on the exterior, and the roofs
sloped inward. The floors of the cabins were
made of slabs, and the chimneys of rocks and





64      PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
mud. At each corner of the square formed by
the rows of cabins, a strong tower, or blockhouse, was built of the heaviest logs. These
block-houses were two stories in height, and
projected about three feet beyond the outer
walls of the cabins. The second story was
eighteen inches larger in length and width than
the first story, and that part of the floor which
extended over the lower wall was pierced for
firing through it, in order to prevent the enemy
from getting close under the sides of the fort,
and thus avoiding the fire of the garrison. The
sides of the block-houses and the outer walls
of the cabins were pierced with loop-holes at
the proper height, and at a distance of five
feet apart in the cabins, and two feet in the
block-houses. On the south side, and just opposite the spring, the gate was placed.  It
was made of heavy slabs, firmly pinned together, and was secured in its place by stout
bars of wood. The entrance was large enough
to allow the passage with ease of three horses
abreast, and the gate was double, or "fold




THE FORT.


65


ing." The stables were also loop-holed, and
every precaution taken to enable a heavy fire to
be directed against any party that should try to
break in the gate. In the centre of the enclosure thus made, a large log building, which
was properly a double cabin, was erected.
This was intended to serve as a storehouse,
and was also made bullet-proof and loop-holed,
so that it might serve as a kind of citadel to
the garrison, in case the enemy should succeed
in overcoming the outer defences. The cabins
were separated from each other by partitions
of logs, so that each family should have its
own house, and maintain its separate establishment. After the fort was completed, it was
decided to dig a well in the enclosure, so that the
garrison, during a siege, might not be deprived
of water; and this was done in the spring,
after the frost had gone out of the ground.
It took seven weeks of hard labor to build
the fort, but it was finished by the second week
in March, 1774. The work was done faithfully, for the settlers said they meant to make
5





66


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


their fort impregnable to any attack from the
savages, as the work was worth doing well,
if it was worth doing at all. The whole fort
covered an area about one hundred and five
feet square, and it was as strong as the skill
of the builders could make it. Their efforts
had been stimulated by a warning which had
been sent them from Fort Fincastle, at Wheeling, that matters were growing worse every
day, and that they had better be on. the watch
for a visit from the Indians at any moment.
They were not disturbed, however, and the
fort was ready at last. The next week was
passed in providing it with stores of various
kinds. A large wood-pile was formed in the
yard, to provide fuel during a siege, and each
member of the little community contributed a
portion of his provisions and ammunition, so
that there should be a supply in the storehouse
capable of sustaining the settlers, who should
take refuge in the fort, for at least a week.
These things were placed in the storehouse,
and it was understood that no one was to touch





THE FORT.


67


them without the consent of the person who
should be placed in charge of the fort. There
were more cabins than were needed for the use
of the settlers then present, and, in order to
prevent confusion when it should be necessary
to occupy the fort, the cabins were assigned to
the various families by drawing lots for them.
The last thing done was the election of a
commanding officer for the fort, and the choice
fell upon Mr. Oxenford, who was thenceforth
styled "Captain." It was decided that the captain should abandon his former dwelling, and
take up his quarters in the fort, as it was necessary that some one should occupy the work,
and thus have it prepared for any surprise on
the part of the savages; and it was not practicable that the whole community should dwell
in it all the time. In consideration of this,
Captain Oxenford was allowed to occupy one
of the block-houses, and a cabin adjoining it,
which he was permitted to fit up with the
greatest degree of comfort consistent with the
defensive nature of the building. The settlIrs





68     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


then pledged their honor to render to their
commander the strictest obedience, and it was
agreed that all cases of disobedience in time
of actual war with the savages should be punished by a fine of twenty bushels of corn, to be
added to the supplies in the storehouse, and in
times of peace with the savages the fine was
to be ten bushels of corn. During hostilities
the captain's will was to be the law of the settlement, from which there was to be no appeal;
but in times of peace, an appeal might be had
from him to a jury of four settlers, two to be
selected by him, and two by the person making
the appeal.
After his selection for the command of the
fort, Captain Oxenford prepared-& to remove his
family to their new home. He and John, with
the assistance of Dan Whittaker and another
neighbor, transferred the flooring and the greater part of the work on his cabin to the fort,
and in a few days they had made the blockhouse and cabin as snug as they were able.
Then the family moved in, and took posses




THE FORT.


69


sion. They had more room by this arrangement than they had formerly, as the block-house
was two stories high. They fastened pieces
of plank over the loop-holes to keep out the
cold and wind, arranging the coverings so that
they could be removed at a moment's notice.
They continued to use their old stable and
other out-houses. The cabin they had occupied
as a dwelling was simply closed up. Captain
Oxenford said it had better remain there, as
it. might be useful at some time.
By the time all these things were arranged
the spring had fairly opened, and the settlers
commenced to prepare for planting their corn
and potatoes, and making their gardens. Two
or three hunters arrived at the settlement about
this time, and were assigned one of the cabins
in the fort, upon the condition that they should
do their part towards providing the fort with
a supply of meat. They did nothing towards
tilling the land, as they were constantly roaming the woods; but they paid for their living
by supplying the various families with game.





70     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


They were a wild, rough set, but generous
and kind-hearted. They were old Indian-fighters, too; and, as the country was on the eve
of a war with the savages, the settlers were
glad to have these men with them, as their
experience in border warfare would, no doubt,
be useful to them.
As I have said, those who had settled on
the north shore of the creek cultivated their
land in common, and divided the corn crop
and the fodder.   This proved an excellent
plan, as it enabled them to work a large
amount of land, and, as the harvest showed,
to make   a very heavy crop.     Every one
worked hard this spring, for all felt that, as
the Indians might interfere with them the next
season, it was necessary to raise as much corn
as possible.
One morning John was sent from the "bottom," where all hands were at work, to get
something which his father had left in the loft
of his old cabin. He hurried to the building,
ascended to the loft, and soon found the article





THE FORT.


7i


he had been sent for. As he was about to
descend, he heard the sound of a heavy footfall in the room below. He called to know
what was wanted; but as no one answered,
he went to the opening in the floor through
which he had ascended to the loft, and looked
down. To his surprise and alarm, he saw a
large black bear, sitting on its haunches, and
gazing cunningly towards the loft. The animal had heard the boy when he called out,
and had prepared himself to await his descent.
lie was a powerful-looking monster; and as
he saw the boy at the opening in the floor, he
uttered a low growl, and licked his huge jaws
with his bright-red tongue, in a manner that
made John's blood run cold.
John Oxenford was a brave boy, and, for
one of his age, was possessed of a remarkable degree of coolness and self-possession.
Though he was greatly alarmed at the imminence of his danger, his courage did not forsake him. He knew it was vain to hope for
relief at once, for by crying out for aid he





72


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


would anger the bear, who would doubtless
try to reach the loft. His only hope was to
keep the animal down until his father, or some
one else, should come to the cabin to learn the
cause of his delay. And even then, - and the
boy shuddered to think of it, - whosoever came
would be likely to fall a victim to the monster,
as no one but himself was aware of its presence. He could not get out of the cabin except by the way he had entered it; and as the
bear made that an impossibility, there was no
way by which he could alarm the settlers.
It was a desperate situation; and, following
his first impulse, John lifted up his heart to
God, and prayed for deliverance from   his
danger. All the while he kept his eyes on the
bear, 'watching with the most intense anxiety
the animal's every movement. Bruin, however, seemed very sure in his own mind that
he would make his dinner on the boy, and sat
motionless watching him, and uttering low
growls of satisfaction.
The ladder, by means of which John had





THE FORT.


73


climbed into the loft, was made of two oak
saplings, with rounds of the same kind of
wood fastened into auger holes in the saplings. It rested loosely against the loft, and,
as he feared the animal might climb up to him
by means of it, John resolved to throw it down
into the room below. The bear watched him
narrowly, as if half suspecting his intention;
and, with his heart beating so violently as
almost to suffocate him, John moved back
cautiously, and, seizing the ladder with both
hands, pushed it slowly and noiselessly along
the ground below him, until the top barely
rested against the loft.  One more vigorous
push would have sent the ladder clattering to
the earthen floor; but with a sharp growl, the
bear at this instant sprang at the rounds, and
commenced to mount them. John pushed the
saplings with all his might; but the weight
of the bear was too much for him, and he
could not move the ladder an inch. The monster came nearer, nearer, and the next moment
he would be in the loft. John could feel his





74     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


hot breath, as he struggled awkwardly up the
ladder, and he almost fainted with terror and
despair.  The next moment, however, there
was a crash, and the saplings, which had
never been designed to withstand such a severe
test, broke under the bear's enormous weight,
and Bruin and the remnants of the ladder fell
heavily to the ground below. The animal lay
flat on his back for a moment, looking up at
the loft with an expression of bewilderment, at
which John, in spite of his alarm, burst into
a laugh. Then springing to his feet, the bear
uttered a growl of rage, and commenced to
run around the room, as if seeking some other
means of getting at the boy. John had no
weapon but his hunting-knife, which, with boyish pride, he always wore; and he took this out
now, resolved that if the bear did reach the
loft, he would sell his life as dearly as possible.
At this moment his feet struck against something hard, and, stooping down, he picked up
a stout club he had put there some time before
to season. He felt sure he could give Bruin





THE FORT.


some hard knocks with this, and he clutched
it resolutely, and watched his enemy.
The bear had now paused in his walk, and
was looking up at the loft with a puzzled expression. Suddenly he walked over to the
opposite side of the cabin, and, running swiftly
towards the opening, sprang into the air towards the left, and tried to catch the floor with
his paws. He was unsuccessful, however, and
fell back upon the floor with a growl.
", ho, my fine fellow!" said John; "that's
your game-is it?   I think I can teach you
a trick worth two of that."
Grasping his. cudgel in both hands, John
stood by the opening, waiting the bear's next
leap.  It came soon, and this time Bruin's
head appeared in the opening on a level with
the floor of the loft, which he endeavored to
clutch with his claws. Had he been left to
himself, he would doubtless have succeeded;
but at this instant John's cudgel came crashing
down on the monster's head, almost stunning
him, and sending him down to the ground





76     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


again. John uttered a shout of exultation, to
which the bear responded with a growl of
rage, and again the latter sprang at the loft.
This time he succeeded in fastening his claws
in the floor, and was trying to draw his immense body up after him, when John, dropping
his club, and drawing his hunting-knife, drove
the weapon with all his force into the animal's
paw. The knife was as keen as a razor, and
the blow almost cut the paw from the arm, and
Bruin fell back to the ground terribly wounded,
and with the blood flowing freely from the cut.
Instead of disheartening him, however, his
wound made him furious, and he sprang again
at the loft, and with such force that it seemed
he would enter it. Another blow from John's
club sent him back to his starting-place, and
the boy answered his growls of fury with mocking laughter. Again and again Bruin essayed
the jumping process; but each time John struck
him over the head with tremendous force, and
at length these blows began to tell even upon
so thick a skull as that of the bear, who finally





THE FORT.


77


lay still and panting on the ground, evidently
very much worsted by his antagonist.
John now received an unexpected re6nforcement. The cabin door was standing open,
and he saw enter through it the dog he had
brought from the Potomac. Carlo was a magnificent specimen of the mastiff breed, and had
always been a great pet with the whole family,
especially with John, who had taken the care
of him upon himself. The dog had evidently
been attracted by the growls of the bear, and
had come to learn for himself the cause of the
strange sounds. As -he paused in the doorway, the bear sprang to his feet, and for a
moment the two animals gazed at each other.
Then, with an angry bark, Carlo sprang at the
bear, and Bruin made a dash at the dog. The
former had calculated his movements well,
and, eluding with great dexterity the blow
which the latter aimed at him with his paw, and
which would, no doubt, have stunned him, he
flew upon the bear, and seized him by the
throat, fastening his sharp fangs in the flesh,





78     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


and making the monster roar with pain. The
bear now, finding himself at a disadvantage,
clasped his antagonist around the body with
his huge paws, and hugged him with such
force that it seemed he would crush him, and
for several minutes it appeared doubtful who
would be victorious.
Since the arrival of the dog, John had
watched the scene below him with intense interest.  He knew that Carlo would make a
good fight, and he was anxious to escape from
his dangerous situation. When he saw Carlo
seize Bruin by the throat, he knew that the latter would have as much as he could do to shake
him off, and he prepared to make his escape
from the cabin. The next instant, however,
he saw the monster clasp the dog in his arms,
and heard poor Carlo, who still held the bear
by the throat, utter a faint howl of agony.
This decided the boy's course. Not even to
save his own life would he abandon his pet to
the bear. Throwing his club down, and grasping his knife firmly, he sprang down through





TH-E FORT.


79


the opening to the ground below. As he did
so, the bear glared at him with his red, fiendish-looking eyes, and strained the dog closer
to him, as if to make short work of him. John
picked up his club, and, swinging it in the air,
brought it down vigorously upon the bear's
skull, repeating his blows with such force and
celerity that Bruin roared with rage and pain.
He relaxed his hold upon the dog, and struck
at John furiously with his wounded paw; but
the dog held him fast by the throat, and John
skilfully avoided the animal's blows.  The
cabin now resounded with the howls of the
bear, and the boy felt sure that this unusual
noise must soon bring assistance, and he redoubled his blows, holding his hunting-knife
between his teeth all the time, so that it might
be ready for use at any moment.
The bear struggled violently to get away
from the dog and seize the boy, and suddenly
gave the cudgel a wrench with his paw, tore
it from John's hand, and hurled it across the
cabin. This was done with such force that it





80     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


threw the boy off his balance, and before he
recovered it, the bear seized him with his
wounded paw, and     hugged   him  violently.
He now had both the boy and the dog in his
arms, and he strained them to him with a terrible force. Carlo still kept his teeth fastened
in the bear's neck, and John, whose right hand
was free, managed to get his knife in his grasp,
and with it he struck the monster repeated
blows in the face and neck, bringing the blood
at every blow. The struggle went on in this
way for fully five minutes longer, and each
moment seemed to the boy like an age. The
yells of the bear resounded through the cabin,
and the blood was flowing from him in half a
dozen places; but his immense strength began
to tell powerfully in his favor. John felt himself growing fainter every moment, and it
seemed that his huge antagonist would win the
victory, after all. The pressure of the animal's
paw around his body almost suffocated him,
and gradually his consciousness began to leave
him. He heard, or fancied he heard, a quick,





THE FORT.


8I


sharp report, like the crack of a rifle, and a
loud shout, and then all grew dark to him, and
he fainted.
When he recovered his consciousness he was
lying on the grass in front of the cabin, with his
head resting in his father's lap. Captain Oxenford was chafing his hands, and trying to restore him, while several of the neighbors were
looking on anxiously. Dan Whittaker, with his
rifle in one hand and a pail of water in the
other, was eagerly watching him, and when
he saw John open his eyes, he gave a loud
shout, and danced about for joy. John was
stiff and sore from  his encounter with his
shaggy foe, and was also very much bruised
by the bear's embrace. Fortunately none of
his bones were broken, however. The neighbors carried him into the fort, and laid him
on his own bed; and it was several days before he was able to be up and at work again.
After they carried him into the fort, Dan told
him the result of the fight. The loud roars
of the monster had alarmed the settlers, and
6





82     PLANTING THE WILDERNESSe


as Dan happened to be the nearest to the cabin,
he was the first to ascertain the cause of the
noises. Upon seeing his friend in such a desperate situation, he hurried to the fort, and
took down John's rifle.  Without waiting to
answer Mrs. Oxenford's questions as to the
cause of his excitement, he rushed back to
the cabin, which he reached about the time
John fainted. It was but the work of a moment to place the muzzle of his rifle right
against the animal's eye, and send a bullet
through his brain. The bear fell back dead,
and released his hold upon his victims. Just
then Captain Oxenford and the rest arrived,
and commenced their efforts to restore the
brave boy to consciousness.
The bear- was an immense animal, and was
a rich prize. He had evidently come into the
settlement to satisfy his hunger, - a very conmmon circumstance in those days,,-and both
John and his dog were very fortunate in escaping with their lives. John's story of his encounter with Bruin was told modestly, but it





THE FORT.


83


won him praise from all in the settlement; and
one of the old hunters told him warmly that he
had "the true grit in him," and would do honor
to his name yet. Big Dan Whittaker was loud
in his praise, and was never tired of questioning his friend about his exploit. He made light
of his own share in the affair,; but John never
forgot that it was Dan's presence of mind that
released him so soon from his dangerous position.
As the two boys had killed the bear, it was
divided between their families; but these distributed the meat through the whole settlement.
The skin was kept as a trophy; and Mrs.
Oxenford made each of the boys a cap out of
it. They were very proud of these caps, as
they had good reason to be, and wore them
until they literally fell to pieces.





84     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


CHAPTER VI.
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.
THE spring and summer passed away, and
the fall, which is nowhere so lovely as in the
Ohio Valley, came in its turn. The settlers
had heard rumors of hostilities with the Indians, but as yet they had seen none. Whether
the savages were in ignorance of the Fish
Creek settlement, or whether they had determined to spare it, no one could say; but
the perfect immunity from danger which they
had enjoyed inclined the settlers to be a little
sceptical on the subject of the rumors which
reached them. Their doubts were removed,
however, about the fifth of September, by a
message from Colonel Shepherd, at Fort Fincastle, to Captain Oxenford.  The note from
the former officer informed the latter that Lord
Dunmore was marching towards the Ohio, with





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.     85
an army, to crush the power of the savages,
and that orders had been received to put all
the frontier posts in a state of defence. The
colonel urged the captain to lose no time in
getting his neighbors into the fort. A  number of Indians had crossed the Ohio in the
neighborhood of Grove Creek, and it was well
to be prepared for the worst.  The settlers
lower down the Ohio had already experienced
much trouble at the hands of the, savages, and
it was impossible to tell when or where the
"next blow would fall. The colonel said that
the governor of the colony, Lord Dunmore,
would soon be on the frontier with a strong
force, as he was already assembling his army
on the eastern slope of the Alleghenies, but
that until he did arrive the people must take
their defence into their own hands.
Colonel Shepherd's letter caused very great
anxiety in the settlement, and the statement
which he made was confirmed by the report
of one of the hunters, who announced that he
had on that day seen several Indians in the





86       PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
vicinity of the mouth of Fish Creek.  It was
decided that the various families comprising
the little community should at once move into
the cabins assigned to them in the fort, and
that the grain and other crops, as soon as
harvested, should be stored in the unoccupied
cabins, so that they might not be exposed to
loss. These things were soon done; the settlers moved into the fort, bringing with them
all their household goods and movable property; the animals were quartered in the stables
provided for them on the south side of the fort;
and in a short time everything was in "applepie order." There was an abundance of food
in the storehouse, but as each family had its
own supplies, there was no necessity for touching the general stock at present.
Captain Oxenford was very strict in enforcing the discipline which he established over the
fort. The settlers were required to go to their
work beyond the walls armed, and were instructed to return to the fort upon the slightest
alarm. The gate was to be kept closed at all





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.      87
times, and was to be placed in charge of a
sentinel both night and day. During the day
every one, except the younger children, was
to pass in and out at will, but at night no one
was to leave the fort without permission from
the captain. Every person was charged to observe the utmost vigilance and prudence. The
hunters were to act as scouts; and, for this
purpose, they alone had leave to go and come
at will at all hours.
By the time the harvest came, everything in
and about the fort was fully arranged, and it
presented a very thriving and busy appearance
with its ten families. The harvest was gathered in as usual, and the crops belonging to
those who lived on the south side of the creek
were stored in the fort also. This being done,
the settlers began to lay in their usual supply
of game.
Thus the early autumn wore away, and still
no signs of the Indians were seen about the
settlement. The cattle had, up to this time,
been turned out to graze occadionally, and thus
far no harm had befallen them.





88     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


Towards the last of October, news came that
Lord Dunmore, who had really done more to
bring on the war, which is still called by his
name in the west, than any other living being, had made peace with the savages; but it
was a peace that few had any faith in. The
people at Fish Creek determined that they
would remain in the fort during the winter,
which was now close at hand, and return to
their old dwellings in the spring.
The cows were driven up regularly every
afternoon about four o'clock, and this duty was
generally performed by the older boys. On
the day that the news of the peace came, it
was John Oxenford's turn to bring in the cattle.
This was never a very onerous task, as they
were generally but a short distance from the
fort. As he started off, John looked for Dan
Whittaker to accompany him, but Dan was
busy, and could not leave his work.
"Let me go with you, brother," said little
Thomas Oxenford. " I can drive the cows as
well as Dan Whittaker."





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.     89
"Come along, then," said John.   "You'll
soon have to bear your share of this work,
and you may as well begin now."
They passed out of the fort, and took their
way to the woods. About half a mile from
the settlement, and over the hill which lay
back of it, was a large meadow, which was
the favorite grazing-ground of the cattle, and
to that place the boys bent their steps. The
season was that delightful Indian summer
time, when the Ohio Valley puts on its richest
lines of beauty, and when the fascination of its
scenery is greater than at any other period
of the year. The lads, young as they were,
were keenly alive to the beauty of the scene,
and they'moved along leisurely, gazing upon
it in silence. They passed over the brow of
the hill and down the northern slope, and
reached the edge of the meadow. Just then
Thomas burst into a shout of delight.
"Look, John," he cried, pointing to a large
tree, but a few feet from them--"look at the
chestnuts! Let us stop and gather some."





90     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


John felt that it would be wrong to stop for
the nuts, as he had been ordered to bring in
the cows at once, but the temptation presented
by the tree, which was fairly loaded with the
delightful fruit, was too great for him; so you
see, my dear reader, pioneer boys were quite
as apt to neglect business for pleasure as those
of the present day. John looked up at the
sun, which was still high in the heavens, and,
after a moment's hesitation, said, -
" Come, Tom, we must be quick about it,
for we haven't got long to be here.    You
know we must have the cows at the fort by
sunset."
0, it will not take us long to get a few
nuts," said Tom. "We can fill our "caps, and
take them along with us."
The boys then started for the tree. They
found a plenty of sticks on the ground, and
with these they brought down a large quantity
of the nuts, which were perfectly ripe, and as
sweet as they could desire. But, instead of
filling their caps, and proceeding in their search





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.     91
after the cows, they sat down on a log, and
commenced to eat the nuts. They were so
much interested in this performance that they
were unconscious that the afternoon was passing away rapidly. At last Tom sprang up,
and exclaimed, quickly," We'll catch it now, John. Yonder come
father and one of the neighbors; and if father
finds us here, instead of looking after the cows,
he'll make us smoke for it."
John looked in the direction to which his
brother pointed, and saw two men approaching
them. The new-comers were dressed like the
settlers at the fort, and one of them carried
a bridle in his hand. The boys commenced
looking about very busily, and called the cows
with all their might, hoping in this way to
disarm their father of his suspicions.  In a
few minutes the strangers were near enough
for them to ascertain their true character, and
the boys, to their astonishment and alarm,
found that they were in the presence of two
large Indians. They were terribly frightened,
and started to run away.





92


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


"Stop, stop!" cried one of the savages,
sharply. " White boy run, Injun shoot. Injun
kill."
"Stop, Tom," said John; "they will certainly
shoot us if we try to run away. We must go
back, and see what they want with us."
The boys then faced about, and walked
back hand in hand to where the Indians were
standing with their guns levelled at them. As
they came up, one of the men seized John by
the shoulder, and brandished his tomahawk
furiously over his head; but the boy looked
him in the face without flinching, and the
savage lowered his arm with a grunt of satisfaction.
" Ugh!" he exclaimed, in his broken English, "white boy no 'fraid. Be big chief some
day."
"Why should I be afraid of you?" asked
John, calmly. "I have never harmed you."
"Injun hate white man," said the warrior,
sharply. "Injun no hurt boy.    Take him
home; make him big chief."





ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 93


The Indian then told the boys that he and
his companion were looking for horses, and
that they must go with them. They would
not hurt them as long as they submitted to
their fate, but if they offered the least resistance, or attempted to escape, they would kill
and scalp them. The savages then started
off, and, taking a circuitous route over the
Fish Creek hills, continued their search after
horses.
Thomas was very much frightened by his
capture, and kept silence; but John, whose
fertile brain had already marked out his line
of conduct for him, became quite talkative.
"I'm glad you've taken us," he said to the
Indian who could speak English, as they
walked along. " I don't want to live in a fort.
I want to be a warrior like you, and take
lots of scalps."
" Ugh!" grunted the savage, pleased by the
compliment, and unsuspicious of the boy's
motive.
"Yes," said John, "I'm tired of living in





94     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


the fort. My father makes me work hard,
and beats me. He never lets me play like
other boys, but makes me work like a dog.
I want to go with you, and be a great hunter,
and a warrior, and live in the woods, and kill
deer, and wild turkeys, and buffaloes."
Thomas had listened to his brother in the
most profound astonishment. He knew John
was not speaking the truth, but he failed to
comprehend his motive for the deception; so,
when the Indian was telling his companion
what John had said, the little fellow whispered
to his brother, reproachfully, -
"0, John! you don't mean that - do you?"
"Of course I don't," whispered John, in
reply. "You must let me do all the talking,
Tom, and mustn't contradict me. I've got a
plan on foot, and I want to carry it out."
The Indian now turned to John, and told
him he was very glad to hear him talk so,
and that he and his companion would carry
him and his brother to their people, and make
Indians out of them, and that by the time they





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.      95
were grown up they would have no white blood
in them. During the afternoon he became
very intimate with the lad, and gave him his
tomahawk to carry. Thomas, however, said
nothing, but kept close to his brother's side all
the way.
About sunset the Indians halted at a spring
in a hollow, about three miles from the fort.
They built a fire, and cooked their supper,
which they shared with the boys. John made
himself very useful in building the fire, and
getting water for his captors, and received
many grunts of satisfaction and approval from
them. One of them asked him if he knew
where they could find any horses; but as he
thought it best to tell them the truth this time,
he answered that he did not think they would
be successful in their search, that the settlers
kept their horses up all the time, and never
allowed them to run out, for fear the Indians
might get them.
After the night had fairly set in, the savages
covered up the fire, and tied the boys' hands.





96     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


They then made them lie down together, and
placed a leather strap or thong over them, and
stretched themselves out upon the ends of the
strap - one on each side of the boys. They
lay awake for a long time, laughing and talking. John, who was a lively fellow, amused
his captors with a number of funny stories,
which  made them    laugh heartily.  These
stories he told to the Indian who could speak
English, and that one, in his turn, related them
to his companion in their own tongue.
Poor little Thomas, utterly unable to understand his brother's motives for the part he was
playing, listened to him in silent indignation.
He was once or twice on the point of openly
reproaching him for turning against his friends;
but, as John had told him to remain quiet, he
concluded that it was best for him to do so.
Still, he could not understand why John should
be so well pleased at their capture, or why he
should want to be an Indian; and the more he
thought of it, the harder he found the attempt
to understand his brother's conduct. John soon





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.     97
increased his perplexity; for when the Indian,
who had been the spokesman, was engaged in
telling his companion a story John had just
told him, the boy whispered softly to his little
brother, -
"I say, Tom, don't you go to sleep to-night.
Stay awake if you ever wish to see home
again; and, above all things, hold    your
tongue."
John Oxenford was merely carrying out a
plan which he had conceived immediately after
his capture. He had heard from the hunters
at the fort many a story of border warfare,
and as soon as he was made a prisoner he
resolved to escape. This was his reason for
telling his brother to say nothing, and let him
do all the talking; and he had spent all the
afterrfoon in trying to make friends of the
savages, and lull their suspicions to rest. He
knew  his brother would not understand his
motives for acting as he did, but he could not
tell him without revealing everything to the
Indian who could speak English, and in this
7





98


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


way ruining their chance for escape. After
the savages tied him and made him lie down
for the night, his courage almost failed him.
The Indians, as I have said, had placed their
leather strap over the boys, and were lying
upon the ends of it themselves, so that any
attempt on the part of the prisoners to get up
on their feet would move the strap and wake
their captors. The situation seemed hopeless
enough, but John determined to wait patiently
and see if something more favorable did not
happen; and, as he always did in times of
danger and trouble, he prayed for "deliverance
from on high." After the Indians ceased talking, he lay silently thinking over the plan he
had resolved upon. He believed that the Indians had no fear of his trying to leave them,
as they had faith in the story he had told
them; but how   he should get out of their
power he could not tell. Something must be
done that night. He knew the spot where
they were resting, and could eastly find his
way back to the fort; but the next day the





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS.     99
Indians would strike across the country towards
their own settlements, and even should they
succeed in escaping during the journey, there
was a strong probability of their being retaken
and killed, or of losing their way and dyirag
of starvation, or of wandering into an Indian
camp.   The necessity, therefore, for doing
something that night, was imperative.
The boy's mind was busy with these thoughts,
but he knew that it was useless to make even
the slightest attempt as long as the Indians
were awake. The suspense in which he was
placed, was painful, and, in spite of the chilliness of the night, the thick sweat stood heavy
on his forehead. At last the heavy breathing
of the savages convinced him that they were
asleep; but as he could not move without
awaking them, his situation was not bettered
by their unconsciousness.
The night was very chilly, and in about an
hour after the savages fell asleep, one of them,
becoming cold, lifted John in his arms, and
rolled him on the outside, settled himself in





100    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


the boy's place, and was soon    breathing
heavily again. This was just what the lad
wanted, but what he had not dared to hope
for. The Indian had put him where he could
move without disturbing the others, and had
not only removed the strap from him, but had
rolled off from it himself. Profiting by this, the
boy slowly and cautiously rolled away from his
companions, and commenced trying to undo
the thongs with which his hands were tied.
Fortunately for him, the Indians had not fastened him very securely. He worked slowly
and softly-so slowly indeed, that it seemed
he would never free himself. Every motion
seemed to his excited imagination more violent
than was prudent, and he was tormented with
the fear that the Indians would suddenly
awake, and discover his attempt to escape. In
such a case he felt sure they would kill him.
The time wore away very slowly, but at length
he succeeded in removing his fetters, and,
rising gently to his feet, he looked around to
assure himself that all was well.





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 101
The huge forms of the Indians were stretched
out at full length, and their heavy, regular
breathing convinced him that they were still
sound asleep. Another glance showed him the
great round blue eyes of his little brother
Thomas, watching his movements with the
most intense eagerness. He placed his finger
warningly upon his lips to caution the little fellow not to move or make any sound that might
disturb the savages, and then, stepping cautiously to his brother's side, he raised the strap
Softly, and signed to the boy to get up on his
feet. The astonished Thomas obeyed him, and
John led him noiselessly a few feet away from
the sleepers, and commenced to untie his
hands.   How their hearts throbbed as they
stood there in the dark woods, with danger and
death so near them! The very sighing of the
night wind, the rustling of the leaves, and the
murmuring of, the waters of the little stream
by which they had encamped, made them start
and tremble with fear.  The slightest sound
might arouse their captors, and then, poor boys,





102


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


home and a mother's face would never gladden
their eyes again.
At last Tom's hands were freed, and the little fellow, intent only upon getting off safe,
whispered to his brother,--
"Come now, brother John, let us run home
as fast as we can."
John knew this would never do. Tom would
be sure to arouse the savages in attempting to
run away, and, as the little fellow had already
turned to put his proposal into execution, he
seized him firmly by the shoulder, and whispered to him,"Don't run away yet, Tom.      If you do,
you'll wake the Indians, and they'll be sure
to kill us. You mustn't stir yet, for we must
kill these Indians before we go."
"We are not big enough to kill them," said
Tom, trembling at the thought.
"We've got it to do, or be killed     ourselves," whispered John. "You must do your
share."
Tom looked at the great, stalwart warriors





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 103
that lay sleeping at his feet, and for the.life of
him he could not see how two such boys as
they were could hope to prevail against them.
His brother whispered to him that they had no
time to lose, and, yielding to him, Tom expressed his readiness to do what he could.
The plan upon which John determined would
have done credit to an old Indian hunter. It
exhibited an unusual degree of fertility of resource, as well as the most determined courage.  Stealing noiselessly up to the Indians,
he took one of their rifles, which was loaded
and primed, and, cocking it, placed it on a log,
with the muzzle only an inch or two from the
head of one of the sleepers. He then stationed
Tom at the breech of the weapon, and made
him put his finger on the trigger, and told him
to pull the trigger and shoot the savage, as soon
as he should strike the other. Then, stepping
back, he possessed himself of the Indian's tomahawk, having found that it would be impossible to remove the rifle without disturbing its
owner. He grasped the tomahawk firmly, and





1o4


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


then, assuring himself by a glance that his
youngest brother was ready, he stepped softly
to the sleepers, and placed himself astride of
one of them.    They were still unconscious,
the fatigue of their long journey during the
previous day having thrown them into a profound slumber. The boy raised the tomahawk
with both hands, and, concentrating all his
energies in the blow, struck the savage with
it. The blow fell upon the back of the Indian's
neck, and a little to the side, so as not to be
fatal.  Half stunned, the savage attempted to
spring up and defend himself, but John struck
him on the head. Even this blow, though it
cut through the skull with a horrible crash,
did not kill the man; but the boy, rendered
desperate by the gravity of his situation, struck
him so fast, so often, and with such fatal effect,
that, as the lad afterwards expressed it himself,
the Indian "lay still, and began to quiver."
In another moment the huge savage lay motionless at his feet, and, having satisfied himself
that there was nothing more to apprehend from





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 105
this one, John turned to see what disposition
his brother had made of the other.
Tom had also done his part well. As soon
as he saw his elder brother strike the Indian,
he pulled the trigger and discharged the rifle.
The ball struck the sleeping savage in the face,
and tore away a considerable part of his lower
jaw, and the Indian, a few moments after receiving the shot, began to flounce about and
yell in the most terrible manner. He was so
completely startled by the suddenness of the
attack, that he did not for a moment attribute
it to his captives, and his wound was so terrible as to utterly deprive him, for a time, of the
power of resistance. As soon as he had fired,
Tom dropped the rifle, and hurried over to
where his brother was standing.
All this had taken scarcely as much time as
I have consumed in telling it, and the boys at
once set off for the fort at full speed. In spite
of their efforts, however, they travelled slow,
for it was very difficult to find their way in the
darkness.   They feared   that they had not





o106   PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


killed the other Indian, and that he would pursue them and murder them; and the breaking
of every twig under their feet, the rustle of
every leaf, made them tremble with alarm.
At last they came in sight of the clearing
around the settlement, and John could see by
the brightening of the clouds in the east that
the day would soon break. They could see
the dark outline of the fort, about half a mile
beyond them; but everything was as still as
death, and with beating hearts they set off at.a run. They reached the gate almost out of
breath, and knocked loudly upon it.   The
sentinel on duty was none other than Dan
Whittaker, and the boy was about half
asleep.
"Who's that out there?" he called, drowsily.
"It's' me.  Open the gate," cried John,
breathlessly.
"And who's me?" asked Dan, growing
wider awake.
"John Oxenford," was the reply.  "Open





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. I07
the gate quick, Dan, if it's you. The Indians
may be after us at any moment."
Dan gave a great whoop, and the bars which
closed the entrance came clattering to the
ground, and the heavy gate swung open. Dan
caught his friend in his arms, and gave him
a great hug. He could not leave his post, but
told the boys they would find their parents
in the block-house, to which they at once proceeded.
They found all the neighbors gathered in
their father's cabin, endeavoring to console and
cheer their parents. Their absence had occasioned the greatest alarm and anxiety in the
fort, as none of the parties that had gone out
to look for them had been able to learn anything of them. They found their mother with
her head lying in her husband's lap, sobbing
bitterly, while Captain Oxenford bent over her,
utterly incapable of offering her any consolation, so greatly was he in need of it himself.
'~ Poor boys, poor boys! " sobbed the mother.
"They are killed or taken prisoners by the
Indians, and I shall never see them again."





I08     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
John's heart was in his throat as he heard
his mother's grief; but he burst into the room,
half laughing, half crying, followed by Tom,
who was blubbering outright.
"No, mother," cried the boys; "we are not
dead, and here we are."
You may be sure, dear reader, the lads had
a warm welcome from all present, and their
parents' grief was changed into the deepest
joy. After the excitement produced by their
arrival had subsided, John told the story of
their capture and escape, not even concealing
their misconduct in stopping to gather the chestnuts. When he described the manner in which
they had killed and wounded the Indians, one
of the old hunters, who was present, gave a
long whistle.
" Whew, lad!" he exclaimed, incredulously;
" that's a very fine tale you've told, but it's a
pretty hard one. You and your dog thar may
be pretty good at a bar fight; but I don't know
any Injuns you could have licked as easy as
that."





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 109
"I've told the truth," said John, flushing.
"Whether you believe it or not, everything
happened as I have said."
"Don't git riled, my boy," said the hunter,
kindly.   You hain't got a better friend in the
fort than me, and I'd be powerful glad if I
could believe your yarn; but I'm too old an
Injun-fighter for that."
"Well, then, Bill Davis," said John, sharply,
"I'll prove that I speak the truth. It will be
broad day in a few minutes, and as soon as
the sun rises I'll go with you, and show you
the place."
" Done," said the hunter; " and if I'm wrong,
my boy, I'll ax your pardon with all my
heart."
Breakfast was made ready early, and as soon
as it was despatched, a party of six or seven,
consisting of Captain Oxenford, Bill Davis,
Dan Whittaker, and several others, left the
fort, under John's guidance, to ascertain the
truth of the boy's story.  Captain Oxenford
had never known his son to tell a lie, and he





IIO    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


was very anxious that John's veracity should
be sustained by the result of the investigation.
He cared very little for the credit which would
be gained by his boys for their exploit. He
was chiefly anxious to show the settlers that
they had not lied. John guided the party by
the shortest route, and they soon stood upon
the spot which had been the scene of the last
night's tragedy.
The Indian he had tomahawked lay on the
ground, stiff and cold in death, but the other
one, who had been wounded by the discharge
of the rifle, had crawled away from the camp,
and had taken his gun and shot-pouch with
him. The evidence afforded by the dead Indian was indisputable, and the boy pointed to
him with an air of triumph, and, turning to
the hunter, exclaimed, proudly, -
"Well, Bill Davis, what do you say now?"
"I say," said the hunter, warmly, seizing
John's hand, and wringing it in his vice-like
grasp, "I say that, boy as you are, you are
the best man in the fort, and I ax your pardon,





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. IlI
lad, for doubting your story just now; but you
see it was hard for an old hunter, like me, to
believe that two shavers, like you and Tom,
could lick two of the best warriors in the whole
Shawnee tribe."
"Then you know this Indian, Davis?" said
Captain Oxenford.
"Know him, cap'n?" replied the hunter.
"You jist bet I do. He's shot at me often,
and we hunted each other for a whole year
once, but somehow both of us came out safe,
and we gave up the chase. He was a 'big
Injun,' as the red-skins call their braves, and
I reckon his pardner was one of the same
stripe."
As he spoke, the old man drew his hunting-knife from its sheath, and tried its edge on
his finger; then, before his companions really
knew what he was about, he bent over the
dead savage, and cut his scalp off. Raising
the gory trophy, he handed it to John.
" Here's your prize, lad," he said, holding out
the scalp. "What! don't want it?" he added,





II2     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
laughing, as he saw the boy shrink back in
horror. " You've earned it fairly. Well, it does
you credit, anyhow, and I'll keep it and dry
it for you. If these troubles last as long as I
think they will, you'll be proud of this here
har yet."
And, so saying, the hunter commenced to
prepare the scalp for carrying, by taking it to
the brook, and washing the blood from it.
"Now," said Captain Oxenford, "let us see
what has become of the other Indian."
They followed the trail made by the wounded
savage, and found him lodged in the branches
of a large tree, which had fallen to the ground,
about a quarter of a mile from the camp. Notwithstanding the severity of his wound, which
was gradually producing lockjaw, the Indian
was resolved to sell his life as dearly as possible. Bracing himself in the tree, with the
strength of despair, the savage rested his gun
on one of the limbs, and taking aim at the foremost man of the party, pulled the trigger; but,
fortunately, his gun missed fire. The white





AN ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. 113
men heard the snap of the lock, and made a
simultaneous movement backward.
"Hang me," muttered the old hunter, "if I
want to be shot by a dead Injun. I'll fix his
flint for him."
Raising his rifle, the old man aimed it deliberately at the savage, and fired, and the
next moment the fellow fell to the ground a
corpse.
" Thar," said Davis, bending over him, and
scalping him, " I thought I knowed him. The
Shawnees will miss you, my fine fellows, and,
if I ain't much mistaken, they'll do thar best
to get some of our har,to pay for yours."
The rifles and ammunition of the Indians
were secured, and the party went back to the
fort. John's story was now fully sustained,
and old Bill Davis, who had been the first to
doubt the boys, was now loudest in their praise,
in which the whole community joined right
heartily. Tom came in for his share too, and
it was decided by the men that the two rifles,
which had been taken from the Indians, should
8





114     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
be given to the boys. John was old enough
to use his, and Tom's was put away until he
should be large enough to handle it. The
weapons were of the best. quality, and were
very valuable, and in the long war which
followed these occurrences, they did good
service.





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


II5


CHAPTER     VII.
THE "TOMAHAWK RIGHT."
"JOHN," said Captain Oxenford, one morning, "do you think you can make a sweep for
the hominy block?"
" I can try it, sir," was the reply.  "But
where shall I put it?"."It is for the benefit of the whole settlement," said the captain,; " and you'll have to
put it where all can get at it easily. I reckon
you'd better put it at the south end of the
storehouse.,"
John set to work at once. He cut down a
small sugar tree, and trimmed off a pole from
it about thirty feet long. This he dragged into
the fort with the aid of one of the horses, and
fastened the but-end under the lower layer of
logs in the storehouse. Two forks were then
driven into the ground at about one third the





116     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
length of the pole, in order to support it firmly,
and elevate the small end about fifteen feet from
the ground. To the small end of this pole was
attached, by a large mortise, a piece of sapling about five or six inches in diameter, and
eight or ten feet long, the lower end of which
was shaped to answer for a pestle. A pin of
wood was then put through the pestle at the
proper height, so that two persons could work
the sweep at once. Under the pestle the hominy block was placed, and this consisted of
a large block of wood about three feet long,
with an excavation burned at one end, wide at
the top, and narrow at the bottom, so that the
action of the pestle on the bottom threw the
corn up to the sides towards the top of it, from
whence it continually fell down into the centre.
The sapling being very elastic, the work of
pounding  the corn into   hominy or meal
was very much lightened by means of this
sweep.
John did his work well, and in the course
of a few hours the sweep was in operation. It





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


I17


was kept going almost constantly, for it was
the sole dependence of ten families. The corn
was beaten as fine as a succession of heavy
blows could break it, and the mass was then
bolted through a sifter made of a piece of fine
deer-skin stretched over a hoop, the holes being perforated with a small hot wire. That
which passed through the holes was meal, and
was used for making bread, while the coarser
pieces were boiled as hominy.
The winter wore away monotonously, for there
was nothing to afford amusement to the dwellers in the fort at such a time; but towards the
close of it, an incident occurred which gave
a little variety to the humdrum character of
the life they led.
It was late in January, 1775, and towards the
close of a remarkably cold day, that a stranger,
mounted   on  a very   rough-looking  horse,
reached the fort from the direction of Wheeling. He rode up to the enclosure, and asked
permission to spend the night there, which was
cordially given by Captain Oxenford, and the





I I    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


man was admitted within the walls, and his
horse put away in the stable. He made himself very agreeable during the evening, and
gave the latest news from the colonies east of
the mountains, which information the settlers
considered ample remuneration for all the extra
trouble his visit caused them. The next morning, however, the stranger was not quite so
agreeable. He informed Captain Oxenford that
he was the owner of the land on which the
little settlement was located, and that he had
come out for the purpose of arranging his
claims with the settlers. He said he was disposed to sell the land at a very low figure, and
that, as the settlers had been to considerable
trouble to improve the land, he supposed they
would rather pay for it than move away.
Captain Oxenford listened to him in silence,
his indignation and surprise at the fellow's
impudence rendering him speechless.
" What do you mean by claiming to be the
owner of this land?" he asked, at length.
"We found it, unoccupied, and we claim it by
right of having settled it."





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


ii9


'That's very true, cap'," said      the man;
"but you see I spotted this here tract before
you did."
"Then you should have settled on it," said
the captain, indignantly.    "As you failed to
do so, you have no claim upon it."
" Wait a bit and I'll show     you," said the
man, insolently.    "Three years ago I came
here, and saw this valley. I made up my mind
that I had better lay claim to it, as some one
would be likely to settle here. I took my tomahawk   and deadened a few      trees about the
spring out yonder.     Then I cut my initials,
'P. P.,' which stand for Paul Payson; that's
my name, cap'; and, according to the rules
here on the border, that gives me a 'tomahawk
right' to this land." *
* Doddridge says, in his "Notes on Western Virginia," -
" I remember having seen a number of those 'tomahawk
rights' when a boy. For a long time many of them bore
the names of those who made them. I have no knowledge
of the efficacy of the tomahawk improvement, or whether
it conferred any right whatever, unless followed by an actual
settlement. These rights, however, were often bought and
sold. Those who wished to make settlements... often





120    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


" Suppose we refuse to recognize your right
-what then?" asked the captain, controlling
his anger.
"Well, then," said the man, impudently,
"I'll go up to Wheeling, and get a posse of
men, and put you off."
"You'll find no one there base enough to aid
you," said the captain; " and besides, you have
no law to justify you."
"There's no law    on the subject, I know,"
said the man; " but it's a custom here on the.border, and I mean to carry it out. I've come
here to settle the thing peaceably; but if you
mean to    show  fight, why, I can     show   it,
too."
" Mr. Payson," said Captain Oxenford, sternly, "your claim    is infamous.   By your own
bought up the tomahawk improvements., rather than enter
into quarrels with those who had made them. Other improvers of the land,.  who happened to be stout, veteran
fellows, took a very different course from that of purchasing
the 'tomahawk rights.' When annoyed by the claimants
under those rights, they deliberately cut a few good hickories, and gave them what was called in those days ' a laced
jacket;' that is, a sound whipping."





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


I2L


confession, you had a whole year in which to
settle this land before we came. You threw
away your opportunity, and we have had the
toil and trouble necessary to the redemption of
this valley from the wilderness. We refuse to
recognize your bogus claim, and base our rights
upon our actual settlement. You can bring as
many men here as you please; but if they interfere with us, we shall drive them away. We
will defend our rights with our lives."
"Then you are a parcel of thieves," began
Payson, angrily; but the captain cut him
short.
" Look you, my man," said he, his eyes flashing, "you had better hold your tongue. A
repetition of your words will bring down upon
you the punishment you merit."
By this time nearly all the settlers had collected on the spot where the conversation was
being held, which was just outside of the gate
of the fort, and they demanded eagerly to know
the cause of the quarrel, for such they perceived it to be.





122     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
"This man," said Captain Oxenford, "has
come here to demand that we shall buy from
him the land we have earned by our labor and
privations. He says he has a tomahawk right
to it, as he saw it three years ago, and cut his
initials on the trees around the spring yonder. I have told him that we will not recognize such an infamous claim, and h'e threatens
to bring a posse of men here to expel-us."
"Sculp him! " cried old Bill Davis, the
hunter, whose ideas of retribution were very
much like those of the Indians themselves.
"Blarst him, I'd like to have his har;: I'd put it
alongside o' that Injun's sculp John killed
t'other day."
It was evident that the settlers were very
much inclined to take the old man's advice.
Big Dan Whittaker said nothing, but, giving
John Oxenford a wink, which the lad understood, stepped over to a grove of young saplings, and cut a stout switch with his knife.
He was back in a minute, and set to work to
trim the switch in silence. The owner of the





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


123


"tomahawk right" began to see that he was
in considerable danger; but putting on a bold
appearance, he declared his intention to maintain his rights to the last.
"Duck him in the creek," cried several of
the men. "He's a blackguard; he's no better
than a common thief."
There was a movement towards the man,
who turned pale, and looked about for a
chance  to  escape; but Captain    Oxenford
stopped the excited settlers by stepping before
the man.
"Don't. touch him, men," he said. "Let us
show him fair play."
Dan Whittaker had now finished trimming
his switch, and, shutting his knife and putting it away, he walked up to the trembling
sharper.
"Let me settle his claim, captain," he said.
"We are a good match."
Well, then, if you will have it so, Dan,"
said the captain, who saw that this was the
only way of saving the man from the wrath





124


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


of the settlers, and who was really not sorry
to see the matter so adjusted, "I have nothing
more to say. After all, the fellow deserves
some kind of punishment for his insolence."
Stepping aside, he left Dan confronting the
man, who was by this time very much frightened.
"You've come here to settle your 'tomahawk
right,' I hear," said Dan, mockingly. "Well,
old fellow, the way we settle those things is
just so."
Seizing the man by the collar, he rained
blows fast and heavy on the fellow's back and
shoulders. The man struggled hard to get
away from him, but Dan held him fast, and
flogged him soundly, amid the cheers and yells
of the delighted spectators. At last, when
fairly out of breath, he released him.
"Now," said Captain Oxenford, to the crestfallen sharper, "the sooner you get away from
here, the better for you."
The man walked silently into the fort, and,
taking his horse from the stable, rode out of





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


125


the enclosure. He paused as he reached the
spot where the settlers were still standing, and
pointing his finger at Dan Whittaker, he said,
or rather lisped, in a tone of the bitterest
hatred, -
"You've had your turn to-day, youngster.
It'll be my time next, and you mark me if I
don't have your life by this time next year."
"You can have a trial at it now, if you'll
get down off that horse," said Dan, coolly.
The man tried to speak, but his voice was
too' unsteady to trust himself; so, darting upon
the boy a look of hatred, he put spurs to his
horse, and rode off swiftly. Dan burst into a
laugh, and turned carelessly away. As he
did so, he felt some one touch him on his
arm, and, turning, he saw his friend, the old
hunter.
"You may laugh, Dan," said the old man,
gravely, "but take my word for it, that fellow
means what he says. He'll be sure to try to
do you some mischief, and I'd be on my guard
if I were you."





126    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


"I'm not afraid of him," replied Dan. "He's
a vile coward, or he never would have let me
flog him just now."
"Of course he's a coward," said the hunter,
"and that's the reason why I warn you agin
him. If he was a brave man, he'd seek no
mean advantage over you; but he'll not hesitate to waylay you whenever he can; so take
my advice, lad, and be on the watch for him."
The hunter's warning was based upon a
keen knowledge of human nature, as seen in
that part of the world, and Dan concluded to
be influenced by it. His caution, however,
was useless, for Payson was never seen or
heard of in the neighborhood of Fish Creek
again. His "tomahawk right" had been completely settled, and the settlers were troubled
with it no more. It was afterwards ascertained
that he did not return to Wheeling, as he had
threatened. Such a course would have been
useless, for the settlers at that post would have
laughed at his claim, and he would have stood
a good chance of a worse punishment than





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


I27


he met at the hands of Dan Whittaker. As
his disappearance left no trace of him behind,
the settlers came to believe, with the old hunter,
that the Indians had "gobbled him up." It
was some time before they ceased to discuss
the fellow's visit to them, and to the last their
indignation remained as violent as it was on
the day of the occurrence.
In the woods just back of the settlement
were a number of fine sugar-maple trees. It
was the next thing to impossible to obtain
sugar on the western side of the mountains,
and many months had elapsed since our settlers had seen any. It was proposed by some
one to tap the maple trees for sap, and make
their own sugar. This would place within
their reach an abundant supply of a most delightful quality of sugar. They would be dependent no longer upon the east in this respect,
and the plan was so promising that it was decided to try it. The work was to be done in common, and the sugar divided among the families according to their number. Preparations





128     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
were immediately   commenced, and as the
winter gave place to the spring, the process
of collecting the sap from the trees was begun. Each tree was bored with a mediumsized auger, and into the hole thus made a
piece of wood hollowed like a spout was
driven. The sap collected in these spouts,
and ran slowly into buckets and pails, which
were set to catch it. A  number of buckets
and barrels were made for the occasion, for,
among the other accomplishments which their
necessities had taught them, some of the settlers
had become excellent coopers. As fast as
the buckets were filled, they were emptied
into the barrels, and in this way a considerable quantity of the sap was collected. In
ten days enough had been drawn to enable
the settlers to commence boiling the sirup into
sugar. Four large fires were kindled in the
woods, and over each one was placed a large
iron kettle, holding about ten or twelve gallons. The women attended to the boiling,
and the men kept the fires supplied with fuel.





THE TOMAHAWK RIGHT.


129


This was continued for about a month, at the
end of which time it was found that quite a
large quantity of sugar and molasses had
been made, and it was believed that, with careful economy, the supply could be made to last
until the next spring.
My readers must not suppose that the little
frontier settlement to which I have devoted
these pages was by any means an earthly
Paradise. It was like all others of its kind, a
collection of plain, rough cabins, inhabited by
a- rugged, hard-fisted set of people. The privations and hardships endured by the settlers
were such as we of to-day can scarcely realize, not the least of which was the severe
toil attendant upon clearing up the land and
getting in the crops. Almost everything had
to be created, and nothing but the direst necessity could have called into such active use
the ingenuity that was manifested by nearly
every person to supply the deficiencies. Yet,
in spite of their hard life, the settlers were
contented and happy. They established homes
9





130     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
for themselves and their families; they owed
no man anything, and they knew that, when
they came to die, their children would have
an ample inheritance. They felt that the Indians would be steadily driven farther west,
and the country more thickly settled, and that
their children would reap the reward of their
labors, if they did not live to do so themselves.





BORDER WAR.


i31


CHAPTER VIII.
BORDER WAR.
WITH the summer of 1775 came the news
of the troubles with England, which were convulsing the whole country. The efforts which
the. mother country was making to reduce the
rebellious colonies to submission were tolerably well understood on the Ohio, in spite of
the great difficulties of obtaining authentic information, and the measures of the patriots for
resistance found a sympathizer in almost every
settler west of the mountains.  So rare, indeed, was a Tory found in that region, that
the name was scarcely known.
The people of Western Virginia had good
cause to be indignant at the conduct of the
British authorities, for they had good proof
that the mothercountry was prepared to bring
upon them the worst of evils. For some time





132      PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
they had had cause to suspect that the infamous governor of Virginia, Lord Dunmore,
had been in negotiation with the Indians for the
destruction, by the latter, of the frontier settlements, and in the fall of 1775 they had positive
proof of this in the discovery of the plot known
as "Connelly's conspiracy; " and the next year,
the war having assumed a general character
east of the mountains, the struggle began in
earnest west of them, between the whites and
the savages. Great Britain had taken the latter regularly into her employ, and, to her
eternal shame, had offered a reward for every
scalp which the savages brought to her military posts along the great lakes. Detroit was
her principal stronghold in this region, and
that city was the great market for the scalps
of the patriots. The war was bitter and merciless.
As soon as the war began, the settlers on
Fish Creek, who had left the fort in the spring,
after the close of "Dunmore's war," and moved
back to their cabins, returned to their quar




BORDER WAR.


i33


ters in the fort. They hoped the struggle
would soon pass by, for they had no conception of its magnitude; but as the time wore
on, the savages became more troublesome, and
they began to see that they would be compelled to remain in the fort, at least until peace
was proclaimed, and when that would be, no
one could tell. They heard, towards the close
of the summer of 1776, that the colonies had
declared themselves absolved from their allegiance to Great Britain; but, as they had never
troubled themselves much about that country,
they were somewhat at a loss to understand
how this separation benefited them. Still, as
they regarded England as the author of their
troubles with the Indians, they were, on the
whole, rather glad that the country was to
have no further connection with her.
As late as the fall of 1776 the settlement
was exempt from the depredations of the savages, but with the latter part of the harvest it
began to take its share in the struggle thr6ugh
which the whole country was passing.





i34


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


The harvest was almost over.   The corn
had been gathered in, and was safely stowed
away in the fort, and a large part of the fodder
had been secured in the same manner. Two
days more, and everything would be safe under
shelter. It was near sunset, and the settlers,
with the exception of two men who had been
left to mind the gate, were busy at work in
the cornfield. In accordance with the orders
of Captain Oxenford, each man had his rifle
with him, and, as the hunters had reported
signs of Indians in the vicinity of the river on
the previous day, each man had his weapon
slung across his back by means of a cord of
deer-skin, so that it could be ready for use at
any moment.    The field on the south shore
of the creek had been harvested, and all the
men were collected in the bottom, which lay
within a few hundred yards of the fort. The
upper end of this field was bounded by a strip
of woods, and it was near this thicket that the
men were working when the incident which
follows occurred.





BORDER WAR.


135


John Oxenford - who was now over seventeen years old -and Dan Whittaker were nearest the belt of wood, and were busily engaged
in carrying the bundles of fodder to the large
stack from which it was to be carried to the
fort the next day. Suddenly Dan's quick ear
caught the sound of something moving among
the trees.
NI say, John," he said, in a low tone,
"there's something moving in the woods. I
shouldn't be surprised if it is an Indian, or a
dozen of them, maybe."
"Let's give the alarm, then," said John,
quickly.
" But we don't know that the noise is caused
by the approach of the red-skins," said Dan.
" It may be a fox, or a bear, or even a squirrel; and if we give the alarm, we shall be
laughed at for being frightened."
"I'll take the risk, anyhow,", said John.
"Father," he cried, running to the captain,
who was but a short distance from    them,
"there are Indians in the woods."





136    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


He had scarcely spoken when the reports
of ten or twelve rifles rang out from the trees.
Fortunately, no one was killed. One of the
settlers received a slight wound in the arm,
but no damage of a serious nature was done
by the volley.
" Run for the fort, men! Run for the fort!"
shouted Captain Oxenford.   "It is our only
hope of safety."
The next moment the whites had unslung
their guns from their shoulders, and started
for the fort. Orders had been given that day
to allow none of the women and children to
pass beyond the walls, and the men who had
been working in the field were the only persons exposed to the danger. The savages,
some eight or ten in number, had counted on
surprising the whites; and, as soon as they
fired, they sprang from the woods with a. loud
yell, and dashed towards them. The fugitives
were about fifty yards in advance, but the race
was a close one, for the red-skins were better
runners than their adversaries.  Seeing that





BORDER WAR.


I37


the Indians were gaining upon them, Captain
Oxenford called to his men to halt, discharge
their rifles at the enemy, and then resume their
efforts to reach the fort; and, suiting the action
to the word, he paused, raised his rifle, fired,
and ran towards the gate.    A  yell of pain
from the Indians told him that he had struck
one of the dusky warriors. Several other shots
were fired, one of which wounded another Indian; but the majority of the settlers made no
effort to execute the captain's orders, being
anxious only to get into the fort alive. The
firing had the effect of bringing the Indians
to a halt; and taking advantage of this, the
settlers got into the enclosure safely.  The
sentinels at the gate had been startled by the
reports of the Indians' rifles, and had at once
prepared to admit their friends. The whites
once inside the walls, the gates were closed
and securely barred. The wounded man had
not been very much injured, and he was turned
over to the care of the women, while the others
proceeded to man the side of the fort nearest
the savages.





138    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


John Oxenford and Dan Whittaker were
eager for a shot at the enemy, and as soon
as they got into the fort, they hastened to the
block-house overlooking the ground occupied
by the savages. The Indians were still standing in the field, huddled around the two who
had been wounded. As the boys reached the
block-house, they saw them lift the form of one
of the wounded men from the ground, preparatory to carrying him off. As they did so,
they shook their clinched hands at the fort,
and uttered a series of deafening yells.
"They are going off, Dan," said John, as
he watched them through a loop-hole.   t If
we want to get a crack at them, we must be
quick about it."
It's a long distance, John," said Dan, " and
I hardly think we can reach them."
We can try it," said John.     "So here
goes."
The boys raised their guns, and, passing
them through the loop-holes, aimed carefully
at the dusky group. The Indians were some





BORDER WAR.


i39


distance off, and it was a very doubtful venture
the lads were attempting. They aimed slowly
and carefully, and fired simultaneously. One
of the Indians sprang into the air, and fell to
the ground a corpse; but, as the boys had fired
together, it was impossible to tell which had
killed him. The boys gave a cheer as they
saw him fall, and the savages, with a yell,
dropped their wounded comrade, and scampered off to the woods, from which they fired
several shots at the fort, all of which fell short,
however. Several of the settlers, among whom
was Captain Oxenford, now     came into the
block-house.
"Who fired those shots?" asked the captain.
" We did, sir," replied both the boys.
"Didn't you remember my orders about
wasting your ammunition?" asked the captain, sternly.
"We didn't waste it, sir," said Dan, eagerly.
"We killed an Indian. See," he added, pointing through the loop-hole, "you can see him





140    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


lying yonder by that big stump. That other
fellow is only wounded."
" Don't throw away a shot, boys," said the
captain, patting Dan approvingly on the back.
"We had better not fire on them again until
they make another attack. Do you think they
will attempt an attack on the fort to-night?"
he asked, turning to Bill Davis, the old hunter,
who was their great authority upon Indian
matters.
"No, cap'," was the reply; "the varmints
ain't strong enough for that. They hoped to
surprise us; but as they haven't done so,
they'll never risk buttin' thar heads agin these
log walls. They've got too much sense for
that. They'll stay about here till after dark,
so they can carry off them men lyin' yonder;
and maybe they'll try to set the fort on fire
during the night. We'll have to keep a sharp
lookout; but I don't think we need fear anything from them."
"Do you think they will retreat by morning?" asked John.





BORDER WAR.


I4I


"P'r'aps so," replied the hunter; "but thar's
no tellin'.  They may hang around here two
or three days, hoping to cut off some straggler
from the fort; so you'll have to keep your
people up pretty close for a while, cap'; but I
can't say what they intend doin'.   They're
queer critters, them Injuns."
Acting upon the advice of the old hunter,
Captain Oxenford gave orders that a strict
watch should be kept over all parts of the fort
during the night; and for this purpose one man
was stationed in each block-house, and one at
the gate, while the rest of those who were able
to handle a weapon were held in readiness for
any emergency in one of the cabins on the side
nearest the enemy.   The savages remained
quiet, however, and in a short time the darkness came on.
It was a very cool night, and the men were
given permission to build a fire in the cabin
where they were assembled.    Their suppers
were brought to them by their wives and children, and when this meal was over, they re




142    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


mained in the cabin, awaiting the movements
of the Indians. Some were gathered around
the fire talking, while others were stretched out
on the floor, smoking silently their corn-cob
pipes. The fire threw a warm, rich glow over
the rugged scene, bringing out every detail in
the most picturesque style. Bill Davis was in
his element. Seated in one corner of the huge
fireplace, he was telling his hearers tales of
his experience as an Indian-fighter. John Oxenford, who had become a sort of pet with him
since the affair with the Indians, two years
before, was lying on the floor, with his head
resting against the old man's knee, and Dan
Whittaker was standing in the shade of the fireplace, leaning against the wall, and resting
both hands on his rifle. Both boys were listening eagerly to the hunter's story; for Achilles
himself was never greater in the estimation of
those "who warred against Troy," than was
Bill Davis' in the eyes of these pioneer
boys.
"Yes," said the old man, iknocking the ashes





BORDER WAR.


143


from his pipe, preparatory to filling it again,
"I led a wild, venturesome life before I came
to this here settlement, and I don't know how
soon I may go at it again, for I'm pretty tired
of bein' cooped up in a pen; but whatever I
do, lad," he added, patting John softly on the
head, "I'll make this fort my stopping-place,
and I'll be here off and on, for I mean to keep
an eye on you as long as I live, for I know
you'll make your mark yet."
"Thank you, Bill," said John, touched by
the.hunter's affection for him. "I should be
very sorry to have you leave us, and I don't
see why you should, for everybody here likes
you, and I should be real lonesome without
you, and so would Dan."
"I know, lad," said the hunter, softly; "I
know. I'll stay as long as I can; but I'm
afeard I shan't be able to hold out, for I feel a
kind of longin' to be out in the woods agin.
But," he added, quickly, "that ain't tellin' you
about that fight I had with the Injuns four
years ago."





144    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


SLet us have it," cried several voices. "We
won't interrupt you this time, Bill."
"Very good," said the hunter. "You can
question me when I git through, if you want
to; but you must let me tell the story without
botherin' me, or I can't tell it at all. You see,"
he began, lighting his pipe, "four years ago
there warn't no settlements along the Ohio,
except at Wheeling, and on Buffalo and Short
Creeks, which lie above Wheeling. The settlements hadn't come down this far, and were
scattered along the Monongehela country towards Pennsylvania and Maryland. Very few
people had ventured to come over the mountains, and the country west of them was pretty
much a wilderness. The Injuns had left it and
gone across the Ohio, but they still hunted
along it, and this made our people somewhat
timid. Well, a party of settlers had located
near the head of the North Branch of the
Potomac, and had built 'em   a block-house,
which wasn't a circumstance to this fort, but
which did pretty well as a defence agin the










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SURPRISE OF BILL DAVIS Page 145





BORDER WAR.


145


red-skins. I used to hunt in this region, and
I made the block-house my headquarters.
" One day, just four years ago this fall, I was
riding along a path which led to the settlement,
when I came across a vine full of wild grapes.
The vine was just loaded down with the fruit,
and the grapes looked so luscious that I couldn't
make up my mind to pass 'em by; so I rode up
under the vine, and in a few minutes I had
filled my cap with the grapes.  Swingin' my
rifle across the pommel of my saddle, I held
tlhe cap in my hand, and rode along slowly towards the block-house, eating the grapes as I
went along. I hadn't an idea that there was
danger about, for I hadn't seen the least sign of
an Injun during the whole day; but just as I
had got my mouth full of the grapes, and was
spitting out the stones and skins, I heard two
rifles crack within a dozen yards of me, one
on each side of the road. One of the balls cut
through my hunting-shirt, and grazed my
breast, and the other struck my horse just
back of the saddle, and brought him down in
IO0





146    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


his tracks. You may be pretty sure I was
astonished, and I come near choking with the
grapes I had in my mouth. I fell with my
horse; but the next minute I was on my feet,
with my rifle in my hand. I might have run
away, for I was pretty good at a foot-race; but
I couldn't bear to have it said that I ran from
only two Injuns. I was bound to bring down
one of 'em, at any rate.
"As I jumped on my feet, after the fall of my
horse, I heard a crashing in the bushes, and
the next minute a big red-skin come rushing
at me with his tomahawk in his hand. I
cocked my rifle, and kept my eye on him,
ready to let him have my ball as soon as he
should come close enough. He saw this, however, and he darted behind two good-sized saplings, which were about a foot apart. Neither
of these trees was big enough to cover him,
and, to keep me from getting a shot at him,
he kept jumping from one to the other; and for
the life of me, I couldn't help laughing at him,
he did it so comically.





BORDER WAR.


147


"I knew I had two of the varmints to deal
with, and so I kept a pretty sharp lookout for
the other. I saw him, at last, behind a tree,
loading his gun. The tree wasn't quite big
enough to cover him, and I found that I stood
a better chance of hitting him than the other
one; so I let the other fellow keep up his dancing, and watched this one closely. As he was
ramming his bullet down, he turned his side
to me, and exposed himself fairly. I blazed
away, and broke his hip, which brought him
to the ground too much disabled to cause me
any more trouble.
"The big Injun now stopped his dancing,
as he knew that my gun was empty, and
made a dash at me with his tomahawk raised.
He stopped, about fifteen feet from me, and
threw  the tomahawk   at me with all his
strength. If he had hit me, I wouldn't have
been here to-night; but I had my eye on him,
and I dodged the blow, and the weapon flew
far out of the reach of either of us. I then
clubbed my rifle, and sprang at the fellow.





148    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


He was much bigger than me, but I rather
think I had the advantage of him in muscle.
I tried to knock him down with the but-end
of my gun, but he jumped into a lot of
saplings, and every time I'd strike at him,
he'd dodge. In this way I broke the stock
off my gun, and at last had nothing left but
the naked barrel. I could have easily killed
him  with this, if I could have got a fair
lick at him; and at last, thinking I had a fair
chance, I swung the iron at him, in a side
lick, with such force that the thing flew clean
out of my hands, entirely beyond my reach.
The big Injun gave a yell at this, and
sprang at me. Neither of us had a weapon of any kind, and I saw that we were in
for a rough roll-and-tumble fight. I was always pretty good at this, and I closed with
him at once, and down he went like a log. I
couldn't hold him down, though, for as he
was naked, and had his hide oiled, he could
easily slip out of my grasp, and get up on
his feet agin'. I threw him down five or six





BORDER WAR.


149


times, but found it impossible to hold him
down. My wind was gitting pretty short, and
I found that I must end the matter pretty soon;
so I resolved to change my plan. I threw
the Injun down agin', but, without trying to
hold him, jumped on my feet, and as the fellow got up, I hit him a crack between the eyes
with my fist, that sent him sprawling on his
back. This astonished him, I can tell you;
but he was up and at me in a second, when I
hit him another crack, and knocked him down
agin'. He got up slower this time, and I sent
him down a third time. I did this about half
a dozen times, and every time he got up
slower. At last I had a fair chance, and I
let fly at him, striking him just back of the
ear. He went down about a little more than
half stunned, and I jumped on him, and,
clutching his throat with my left hand, tried
to choke him to death, keeping my right hand
free for use, if I should need it. The fellow
wasn't so dead as I thought, though, for in a
minute I felt him moving his right arm, which





150    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


lay across my body, and looking down I saw
that he was trying to git at his hunting-knife,
which was hanging at his belt. The knife
was very short, and was so tightly wedged in
the sheath that the fellow had to git it out
by pressing his finger- against the point. I
kept my eye on him, and let him work the
handle out, and then, reaching over suddenly,
I grabbed "it, drew it from the sheath, and
drove it with all my force into his heart. He
gave a groan, and straightened himself out
as dead as a hammer.
"I knew I had disabled the other Indian,
but to what extent I couldn't say, and it was
just as likely as not that he might shoot me
at any moment; so I sprang to my feet, and
commenced to look after him. I found that
the varmint had crawled some distance towards
the place where I'd been fightin' his pardner,
and that he had propped his back agin' a
log, and was tryin' to bring his gun to bear
on me. Every time he tried to aim it, however, he would fall forward, and would have





BORDER WAR.


I51


to push agin' his gun to raise himself. I didn't
feel like bein' shot by a crippled Injun, and I
thought I'd had about as much exercise as
was good for me; so I started off as fast as I
could for the block-house. I got there about
nightfall; and a hard-looking case I was, too.
I had no cap, no hunting-shirt, no horse, and
no gun; and the worst of it was, that the
folks in the fort didn't believe the story I told
'em. So I did just what you did, John, when
I didn't believe the story you told of your
escape; I told 'em I'd go with 'em and show
'em the place.
" The next day we started out, - about half
a dozen in all,--and when we came to the
place where I'd had the fight, I began to feel
pretty mean. Thar lay the dead horse, but
not a sign of a dead Injun was to be seen.
The men commenced to laugh at me then,
and I felt like a fool. We looked about, however, and found a trail, as if something had
been dragged away. We followed it, and in
about five minutes found the body of the big





152    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


Injun lying beside a log, covered up with
leaves. The trail continued for a few hundred yards further, and thar we found the Injun I had crippled lying on his back, with
his own hunting-knife sticking up to the hilt
in his body, just below the breast-bone. It
was plain that he had killed himself, finding that his wound had rendered it impossible
for him to go any further. We had a long
search for the knife with which I killed the
big Injun, but at last we found it. The crippled Injun had forced it down into the ground
by the weight of his heel.
"It was my turn to laugh now, as I had
proved to my companions the truth of my
story; but I couldn't do it, for the life of me.
The way that crippled Injun had stood by his
friend, even after he was almost gone himself,
touched my heart, and I couldn't help feelin'
sorry for the fellow. He was a brave man
and a true friend, if he was an Injun, and I
have always respected his memory ever since;
for 'tain't often you find such true fellows





BORDER WAR.


153


among the red-skins. They're generally pretty
apt to shift for themselves in, times of trouble.
That was about the toughest tussle I ever had
with the varmints, and I haven't the least desire for another like it. But, hallo!" he exclaimed, starting to his feet, as a bright, red
light shone in through the loop-holes, "what
are they up to now?"
All rushed to the loop-holes and looked out.
The bright glare of a fire lit up the fields
and woods, and the settlers saw that the savages had fired the stack of fodder in the cornfield. It was a lucky thing for them that so
little was left exposed to the enemy, for the
whole crop would have shared the same fate
had it been left without the walls of the fort.
The Indians kept well under the cover of the
woods, however, and not one of them could
be seen. The fire burned down at length,
and during the hours of darkness the embers
continued to glow dimly. The night passed
away quietly, and towards morning all but the
sentinels were permitted to go to sleep; and





154     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
in consequence of this, it was some time after
sunrise before the garrison was stirring again.
The Indians had carried off their wounded
and slain comrades, under the cover of the
darkness, and they took good care not to add
to their list of casualties by exposing themselves again. They hung about the fort during the day and a part of the next, firing an
occasional shot on the morning of the third
day, but at length abandoned their enterprise,
and withdrew in the direction of the Ohio.





THE SCOUT.


155


CHAPTER IX.
THE SCOUT.
BY the spring of I777 the country along the
Ohio River, on the Virginia side, was beginning to be very well settled. There was a
chain of forts, or block-houses, extending from
Buffalo Creek, where the town of Wellsburg
now stands, to below Fish Creek. Of these,
the most important were Rice's Fort, on Buffalo
Creek, about twelve or fifteen miles from its
mouth, the fort at Wheeling (the name of which
was now changed from Fort Fincastle to Fort
Henry, in honor of Patrick Henry, the great
champion of American liberty), and the fort at
Grove Creek. That at Fish Creek was comparatively isolated, and had not yet acquired
the importance which the others had attained.
The country from the Ohio River towards the
Monongehela was more thickly settled, and





i56


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


was growing stronger every day; but that portion lying immediately along the former stream
was still weak, and exposed to the savages.
In the spring of 1777, however, a number of
clearings were made back of Fish Creek.
Captain Oxenford and the commanding officer
at Grove Creek warned the parties making
these settlements of the danger they were
incurring in separating themselves from the
communities already established; but the new
comers, trusting more in their own judgment
than in the experience of those who had preceded them, replied that they did not apprehend
any danger, and that they could easily take
refuge in one of the forts in case the Indians
did make a descent upon them. It was impossible to compel these people to listen to reason,
and they were left to themselves. As we shall
see, the sequel proved the wisdom of the older
settlers. During the spring several men came
into the fort to seek shelter, They were all
experienced woodsmen, and Captain Oxenford
was glad to receive them, as they formed a very
valuable addition to the garrison.





THE SCOUT.


157


In spite of the danger which attended it, the
regular work of putting in the crops was done.
In order to guard against a surprise, scoufs
were thrown out at a distance of an eighth of
a mile beyond the cornfield, and once or twice
they exchanged shots with a straggling Indian
lurking near; but, with these exceptions, the
savages left the settlement in peace during the
spring.
About the second week in July, however, the
sentinel on duty at the gate of the Fish Creek
fort saw a man and a woman running from out
the woods towards the fort. The woman had
something clasped in her arms,,and the man
carried a good-sized child in his.  As they
came near, the sentinel saw that they were
whites, and that the bundle in the woman's
arms was an infant. The gate was thrown
open, and the fugitives rushed in. They were
at once surrounded by the settlers, who recognized them  as a family which had recently
located in a clearing about six miles from the
fort. When they were sufficiently recovered,





158


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


they said, in reply to the questions of the settlers, that they had been awakened a little before daybreak by a succession of yells, which
they knew at once could come only from Indians. Springing from their bed, they rushed
to the door and looked out. Two cabins, which
stood at a distance of a quarter of a mile from
them, were in flames, and the Indians were
yelling and dancing like fiends about the burning buildings. There could be no doubt as to
the fate of the occupants of the cabins, and
it was certain that the savages would visit the
cabin of the Jones family, - for this was the
name of the fugitives, - in a few minutes.
There was no time to be lost, if they would
save their lives; and so, catching up their children from the bed, they left the cabin, and,
hurrying into the woods, fled towards the fort.
They had not gone far when they heard a yell
of rage in the direction of their house, and
immediately a bright glare shot up above the
trees, and they knew their home was in flames.
They hastened on, however, with all their





THE SCOUT.


159


speed, and reached the fort almost exhausted
with fatigue. It was still early morning when
they arrived, and the day was bright and clear.
A thin smoke hovering above the woods in the
direction of the clearing of the Joneses confirmed their story.
Every one felt that the misfortunes of the
fugitives, who had now lost everything in the
world, was due to their folly in refusing to come
into the fort when warned by Captain Oxenford; but this did not prevent the settlers from
according them their warmest sympathy.   A
cabin in the fort was assigned them, and each
family gave them something from their little
store, sothat by nightfall the Joneses were tolerably comfortable. They had a cabin to themselves, an abundance of food, and a bed for
themselves and the children.
The next day, no signs of the Indians having been seen about the fort, Captain Oxenford
proposed that a party should go out and ascertain the fate of the people who had been attacked by the savages. As the enemy might





160     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
still be lurking in the neighborhood, this mission would be attended with some danger, and
he called for volunteers to accompany him.
Seven men volunteered to go with him, and at
their earnest request, John and Dan were allowed to join the party. Tom Jones was one
of the number, and he was directed to act as
guide. The arms of the men were carefully
examined before starting, and at eight o'clock
the party left the fort for the scene of the massacre. They travelled rapidly, but cautiously,
and reached the place in about two hours after
setting out. Nothing was seen or heard of the
savages on the way, and it was supposed that
they had withdrawn from the vicinity immediately after the attack on the cabins.
Upon reaching the site of Jones's cabin,
which was the first on the route, they found it
in ashes.  Everything was destroyed.   The
growing corn was trampled down, and the
carcasses of his cow, pigs, and sheep lay near
the site of the cabin. The savages had evidently taken great pains to make their work of





THE SCOUT.


destruction as complete as possible, and the
owner of the clearing had been unusually fortunate in escaping with his family in safety.
The ground, which was soft clay, bore the
marks of many feet, and upon a careful examination of this trail, Bill Davis, the hunter,
said that the enemy had numbered about fifteen
men. Following the trail, the settlers came to
the ruins of the two cabins which had been
first assailed. The work of destruction was as
complete here as at the cabin of the Joneses.
A-ll the buildings were in ashes, the stock lay
about, with their throats cut, and the corn was
trampled down and destroyed. But this was
not the worst. A heap of charred bones in
the midst of the ashes told that the occupants
of the dwelling had either fallen by the hands
of the enemy, and had been flung into the
flames, or that they had been burned to death.
One of the families had consisted of six people,
three of whom were young children, and the
other of four, namely, the parents and two
half-grown girls. Six of them had perished
II





162     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
on the spot, but the other four had evidently
been carried into captivity, for there were the
marks of shoes on the ground, one of them a
girl's, another a man's, another a woman's, and
the fourth print was made by the bare feet of
a little child. The men followed the trail for
some distance, and found that it led towards
the Ohio, at a point above the mouth of Fish
Creek. The savages had evidently escaped
with their prisoners, so that it was useless to
think of following them. The men then went
back to the clearing, and collecting the blackened bones, buried them in 'a common grave,
which they   dug with their hunting-knives.
This done, they returned to the fort, which they
reached late in the afternoon.
Several weeks passed away without any further trouble from the savages. Towards the
middle of August, Captain Oxenford was accosted one morning by Bill Davis, the hunter,
as he was crossing the yard of the fort. The
old man had just returned from   a visit to
Wheeling, and had been waiting for an hour
or two to see the captain.





THE SCOUT.


163


CI say, cap'," he said, as the commander
of the fort passed him, " I want to speak a
word with you."
"Well," said the captain, pausing, "what
is it?"
"I saw Colonel Shepherd at Fort Henry
yesterday," said the hunter, in a low tone, "and
he told me to say to you that a lot of muskets
and ammunition had been sent there from the
east, for the forts along the border. You'll
get your share to-morrow. They'll be put on
a raft at Wheeling to-night, and floated down
the Ohio to the mouth of this here creek.
They'll be here by daybreak, and you must
have your men there to receive them. The
colonel says you must be very cautious, as a
number of Indian scouts have been seen in
this part of the country."
The men were ordered to hold themselves
in readiness a little before daybreak the next
morning, and at that time they set off for the
mouth of the creek, taking with them two or
three of the horses. A force was left at the





164


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


fort, sufficient to hold it against any attack,
but no one was informed of the object of the
expedition. They reached the mouth of the
creek about daylight. The raft was in sight,
floating slowly down the current. The river
was very low at this season, and the current
was sluggish. It was half an hour before the
vessel reached the place where the party had
halted. It brought two men from the garrison of Fort Henry, and two boxes, containing twenty muskets, several kegs of powder,
and a quantity of bullets. As the raft touched
the shore, two or three rifle-shots were fired
from the Indian side, showing.that the enemy
were not far away, and that the precautions
of Colonel Shepherd were necessary. It was
but the work of a few minutes to remove the
articles from the raft, and transfer them to the
pack-saddles with which the horses were provided. This done, the party returned to the
fort, covering their march with a detachment,
consisting of Bill Davis, and two other men,
who remained half an hour on the river shore,





THE SCOUT.


to observe the movements of the enemy. The
Indians made no effort to come over the stream,
however, and the hunter came to the conclusion that the force on the opposite shore was
merely a party of scouts, from whom they need
not fear an attack.
The arms and ammunition were sent out by
the government of the State of Virginia, and
were to be used only for the defence of the fort.
They were carefully put away in the storehouse. The settlers were all provided with
rifles, which they preferred to muskets, and
they declared they had but little confidence in
the efficacy of the heavy smooth-bores.
Several days after this the old hunter announced his intention of making a scout in the
Indian country. Seeking out John Oxenford,
who was now a well-grown youth of eighteen,
he asked him if he would like& to accompany
him. John replied that nothing would please
him better, provided his father's consent to the
undertaking could be obtained; and this the
hunter undertook to gain. He at once sought





166    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


the captain, and laid his request before him.
Captain Oxenford was willing that his sons--
for Thomas was now a boy large enough for
such things - should bear their part of the
dangers and trials to which the whole settlement was subject; but he hesitated  at the
thought of allowing John to encounter the perils of the proposed expedition, for which there
was really no necessity.
"He's got to learn to be an Injun-fighter,
pretty soon, cap'," said the hunter, " and he had
just as well begin now; and, though I say it,
he won't find a better teacher anywhere than
me."
"I know    that, Davis," said the captain.
"There isn't a man in the settlement that I'd
trust quicker than you; but I don't see the use
of this scout. It seems to me like flying in the
face of danger."
" Not a bit of it," said the hunter. "I should
die with the blues if I didn't take one of these
tramps occasionally. You'd better let the boy
go with me. It'll do him good."





THE SCOUT.


I67


The captain hesitated a long time, but, at
length, yielded to the argument, that, as John
had to begin his education as an "Injun-fighter" before very long, he might as well commence at once. He consented, however, upon
the condition that the hunter should ret@n in
a fortnight, to which the old man agreed.
John then donned his best suit of deer-skin and
his bear-skin cap, and took the rifle which he
had won from the Indian he had killed at the
time of his escape, and set out with the old,man.
They left the fort at sunset one bright August
afternoon, and, as they turned into the woods,
they paused to wave adieu to the boy's parents,
who were standing at the gate, watching them
depart. They were soon out of sight of the
fort, however, and John was glad of it, for his
eyes filled with tears as he looked back at those
he loved so much.
"Never mind, lad," said the hunter; "we'll
be back before long, and I'll warrant me you'll
have a rare story to tell the old folks."





168    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


They passed along leisurely, and, a little
after dark, reached the Ohio, about half way
between the mouths of Grove Creek and Fish
Creek. The river was so low that the water
in the channel came only to their waists, and,
rem ving their moccasons and leggings, they
passed over to the Indian shore without difficulty. Once in the country of the savages,
the hunter's manner changed.  His footsteps
were lighter and more cautious, and he was
constantly on the alert. At the" slightest sound
he would pause and listen intently. He spoke
very little; and when he did so, it was in the
lowest and most cautious tone. They struck
off boldly from the Ohio; and by the moonlight John could see that they were following
a beaten track, which his companion informed
him was a Shawnee trail. They camped for
the night in the thick woods, just as the moon
went down, and were up the next morning by
sunrise. They breakfasted on the provisions
they had brought with them, and which consisted of dried venison and parched corn.





THE SCOUT.


I69


During the day they travelled silently, - that is,
very rarely indulging in conversation, - and
two more days were passed in the same way.
On the morning of the fourth day the hunter shot
a stag, as the animal was drinking at a brook,
a little after sunrise. They cut off such gieat
as they could use, and dragged the carcass
into the trees. Then, building a fire by the side
of the brook, they broiled the venison on the
coals.  The fatigue of the journey, and the
light diet upon which they had been living,
had, no doubt, sharpened the boy's appetite,
for. John thought he had never eaten anything
so delicious as the rich venison steak which he
helped to devour that morning.
Thus far they had seen nothing but game,
at which Bill Davis would not allow his companion to fire, however, lest the report might
draw the savages upon them, if any were lurking in the neighborhood. John asked him
where the path they were following led. Tile
hunter replied that it was the path to the Indian
towns on the Scioto River, near which the





170    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


present city of Chillicothe is located. lHe
said he was going as near to those towns as
he thought it prudent to venture, as he was
anxious to see for himself if the Indians really
meditated anything like an organized expedition-against the whites. The old man now became more talkative than he had been, and told
the boy many a story of his adventures among
the savages.  This day passed away very
pleasantly in this manner, and at nightfall they
went into camp again. They lighted no fire this
time, as the hunter said they were too far in the
Indian country to do so with prudence. About
an hour after dark, Davis sprang to his feet
with a sudden exclamation.
"What is theý matter?" asked John, eagerly.
"Matter enough," replied Davis. "We are
nearer to the Indians than I supposed."
"How do you know that?"
"I can see their camp fire," was the reply.
" I can see nothing," said John, looking.
around searchingly.
" That's likely enough, lad," said the hunter;





THE SCOUT.


171


"but when you're as old as I am, and have had
as much experience with the Injuns as I have,
your eyes'll be better. Look yonder."
The hunter pointed in the direction in which
they had been travelling during the day, and
John strained his eyes to see what had caused
his alarm; but he was disappointed.
" I can see nothing," he said; " I think you
must be mistaken."
The hunter laughed softly, and then, stepping behind the boy, he took his head between
his hands, and turned his face in the direction
in which he wished him to look.
" Now look at the tops'of them hickory trees
over yonder," he said. "Do you see a light
haze just over the topmost branches?"
"Yes," answered John, after a pause, during
which he made out the light distinctly, " I can
see it very plainly."
"That," said the hunter, releasing his head,
"is the glare of their camp fire on the sky.
They are right in our track, and it's lucky we
didn't build a fire to-night, for that might have
betrayed us to them."





172    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


Do you think there are many of them?"
asked the boy.
" I can't say," answered the hunter. "The
light isn't very strong on the sky, and I think
they have only one fire, or two at the most,
burning; but how many of them are in the
gang is more than I can tell yet."
"What do you intend doing?" asked John.
"Well," said the hunter, slowly, "I'm going
to take a peep at them."
"Then I'll go with you," said the boy. " It'll
be rare fun to see them without being seen."
Well, lad, that depends upon circumstances.
I've looked at Injuns at times when I thought it
anything but fun. We've got into a very dangerous situation, and we might as well go forward as go back, for these red devils will find
our trail in the morning, and pursue us. My
plan is, to try and scare 'em off, if they are not
too strong, and if they are, to go around them,
and when they pass on in the morning, to fall
in behind them, and travel in their rear. We'll
have to be mighty cautious; and as you value





THE SCOUT.


I73


your neck, my boy, you must obey every order
I give, without waiting to have it explained."
"Very good," said John.   "You will find
me very obedient in all things."
"All right, then," said Davis. "Take your
gun now, and come along. Put your feet down
flat, so," he added, showing the boy how to
place his feet, "and you'll make no noise.
Now let's be off; and don't you talk, unless
you are spoken to."
They set off slowly and cautiously, moving
in the shade of the trees. The light over the
trees grew brighter, and soon they could see it
shining through the woods. Long experience,
added to an unusual keenness of vision, had
given the hunter the power of discerning objects by night as distinctly as in the day; and
he led the way, scanning the dim woods closely,
with strained eyes. Every moment brought
the two nearer to the Indian camp, and increased their danger of stumbling across some
of the savage scouts or sentinels; but Providence favored them, and they succeeded in





174     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
gaining the very outskirts of the camp without
being discovered. Here they paused, and, lying down in the undergrowth, peered anxiously through the bushes at the scene before
them.
A large fire had been built, and around it
about a dozen Indians were seated. They were
hideously decked out with war-paint and feathers, and were evidently prepared for a grand
foray upon the settlements. They were talking merrily about something which John could
not understand, and would frequently burst into
shouts of exultant laughter. The hunter, who
could speak the Shawnee dialect, understood
them, and John heard him grind his teeth
furiously.
"I'm  going up closer to them, to try to
frighten them off," he whispered to John. "Lie
here perfectly still.  Don't fire, unless you
hear me do so."
He crept away softly, and, after considerable exertion, managed to pass into the camp,
and to climb into a large tree, the branches of





THE SCOUT.


175


which were not more than sixty feet from the
fire. As he settled himself noiselessly among
the boughs, he thought, for the first time, how
foolish he had been in thus exposing himself
and his companion to danger; and, as he
looked down upon the scene below, he could
not help asking himself how they should get
away. The least sound might betray them,
and he knew, if they fell into the hands of those
below, they could expect no mercy.  He had
been too dangerous to them to hope they would
spare him. He listened carefully to the talk
of the savages, and then decided upon his
plan of action, which was as singular as it
was successful.  It was a plan which not ten
men in ten thousand could have carried out.
Among his many natural gifts was that of ventriloquism; and as this had often been of use
to him in his expeditions as a hunter and a
scout, he determined to make use of it now.
He understood thoroughly the superstitious nature of the Indian, and he was about to trust
entirely to it for his own safety and that of his
companion.





176    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


Carefully surveying the scene below, he
crawled out noiselessly among the thick branches of a limb of the tree which was nearest
to the fire. Then, throwing his voice down
among the blazing fagots, he startled the Indians by crying, in a loud voice, in the Shawnee tongue,--
" Warriors, why have you started on the warpath? You are marching to your death!"
The savages sprang to their feet in astonishment, and the hunter lay very still in the tree.
Then began a confused jabber of tongues, and
the dusky group gathered around the fire,
pointing to it, and gesticulating energetically.
The Indians were very badly frightened; but
at length a circle was formed around the fire,
and one, who was evidently the chief, stepped
out alone, preparatory to addressing them. As
he opened his lips to speak, the hunter threw
his voice into the chief's mouth, and gave a
prolonged howl. The savage started back in
dismay, and then Davis, with a remarkable
facility, changed the voice from one painted





THE SCOUT.


'77


brave to another, causing them to utter noises
like cats and dogs, and to give utterance to
the most insulting speeches. The chief tried
to speak again, but before he could do so,
the hunter shouted out from the fire, in good
Shawnee, to return home at once; that the
curse of the Great Spirit was upon the expedition. Then he made such a buzzing about
the ears of the chief, that the man gave a yell
of fear, and, turning, fled, at full speed, into
the depths of the forest. The remainder of the
band hesitated, but a fresh imprecation from
the ventriloquist decided them, and they fled
in dismay.
As soon as they were fairly out of sight,
the hunter swung himself down from the tree,
and, hastening to where he had left John, who
had witnessed the scene with the most complete
bewilderment, touched the lad hurriedly.
"Get up at once, John," he said, hastily.
"We must be off from here. Those fellows
may come back, after their fright wears off, and
we must get as much of a start as we can."
12





178    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


John was on his feet in an instant, and the
two set off rapidly. They realized the danger
in which they were placed, and travelled without speaking, until about two hours before
daybreak. Then, leaving the Indian trail, they
turned into the woods, and the hunter bade
John lie down and get as much sleep as possible, as they must be off at sunrise. John
gladly obeyed, for he was worn out with the
extraordinary fatigue of the past day, and,
throwing himself down, he was soon fast asleep.
His companion aroused him shortly after sunrise, and they continued their march, or, rather, their flight, until nightfall, when, finding
that they were not pursued, the hunter decided
to camp for the night.
During the day John asked the old man the
cause of the sudden terror and flight of the
Indians. The hunter laughed heartily at the
question, and then explained to the boy the
wonderful gift with which he was blessed. He
made John pledge his honor never to reveal
the secret, for, he said, it would be of no use





THE SCOUT.


179


to him if it got out, for the Indians would be
sure to hear it, and he could never deceive
them again.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, they
reached'the Ohio at the place where they had
crossed it eight days before, and by sunset
they were safe on the Virginia shore. They
stopped at the water's edge to put on their
lower garments, which they had removed in
crossing, and were chatting gayly,--for the
hunter considered that they were now out of
danger, - when they were startled by the sharp
crack of a rifle on the Indian side. The ball
cut a hole in John's bear-skin cap, and startled
him not a little.  The two caught up their
clothing, and hurried up the bank, where they
finished their dressing, watching the Indian
shore closely in the mean time; but no one
was visible there.
" It was some Indian scout, I reckon," said
the hunter, " and it's powerful lucky for us that
he didn't blaze away at us while we were on
the other side."





18o


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


A rustle in the bushes attracted John's attention at this moment. He had cocked his rifle,
and was holding it in readiness for use in case
any one should attempt to cross the river after
them; and as he heard the rustle in the bushes,
which had escaped the hunter's ear, he turned
abruptly, and saw, to his astonishment, an Indian, not twenty yards from them, in the act of
aiming his rifle at them. It was the work of
an instant to bring his gun to his shoulder and
fire. The shot was at random, but it was excellent, for the ball struck the savage full in the
forehead, just as he was in the act of sighting
his rifle, and laid him on the ground, a lifeless
corpse.
"What are you shooting at?" exclaimed the
hunter, sharply; for he had been so much occupied in watching the Indian shore that he had
been unconscious of the danger which had
threatened them.
"Look yonder," said John, pointing to the
dead Indian.
"Whew!" muttered the old man, turning





THE SCOUT.


I8I


pale in spite of himself at the thought of his
narrow escape, "they are as thick as hornets.
That was well done, though, lad.     You'll
make a good hunter, if you live long enough.
Come, now, and I'll show you how to take his
sculp."
Conquering his repugnance, John went with
the hunter to the body, and in a moment
severed the savage's scalp from his head. This
he swung at his belt, in true hunter style, while
the old man secured the Indian's rifle, which
he said was too good a weapon to be lost.
"Now," said John, "I suppose we may as
well go back to the fort."
"Yes," replied the hunter; "the sooner we
git thar, the better for us.  These Injuns is
mighty thick about here, and I'm afeard some
mischief's afoot."
They struck through the woods at a rapid
pace, and reached the fort about nine o'clock.
They were at once admitted, and warmly welcomed. The old hunter told the story of the
flight of the Indians without revealing his se




182     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
cret, and professed to regard it as a very mysterious affair.  While John wisely concluded
to volunteer no information upon the subject,
Bill Davis was loud in his praise of the boy for
his conduct during the scout, and the manner
in which he had killed the Indian drew forth
the old man's warmest admiration.





THE SIEGE.


183


CHAPTER X.
THE SIEGE.
THE next morning Bill Davis was up at sunrise as fresh as ever; but John slept late, as he
was unused to such severe fatigue as he had
undergone during the scout, and was stiff and
sore from it. As the hunter crossed the yard,
he saw Tom Oxenford, now a little over sixteen years old, and a good-sized boy, standing
near the gate, fixing his gun hastily.
"What's the matter, Tom?" he asked, attracted by the eagerness with which the boy
was working.   "What are you doing that
for? "
" I'm going to shoot a turkey that I hear gobbling on the hill-side," replied the boy.
"I hear no turkey," said the hunter, listening.
" I heard him distinctly just a minute ago,"





184


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


said Tom, "and if he's there yet, I mean to
have him. There, don't you hear him?" he
exclaimed.
This time the hunter did hear what the boy
supposed to be a turkey, and in a few minutes
the sound was repeated again.
"Well, Tom," said the old man, quietly, "I'll
go and kill that turkey."
"No, you won't," cried Tom; "it's my turkey, for I heard it first."
"Your father's orders are positive that you
'shall not leave the fort," said the hunter.
"Besides, I'm the best marksman; and as I
don't want the turkey, I'll go and kill it for
you."
Tom   had forgotten all about his father's
orders in his eagerness to get a shot at the turkey, and he recollected now that it would be
impossible for him to leave the fort in the face
of this prohibition. He handed his gun to the
hunter with a sigh.
"All right, Bill," he said; "but remember
it's my turkey."





THE SIEGE.             185
Bill Davis left the fort at once; but instead of
going in the direction of the sound, he walked
rapidly up the creek, to the disappointment of
Tom, who felt sure that he would miss the
turkey. The hunter entered the woods about
a quarter of a mile above the fort, and, guided
by the gobbling, passed around through the
trees, in order to come upon the turkey from
behind. In a few minutes he came in sight of
it, and a glance confirmed his suspicions. An
Indian was sitting on a chestnut stump, partially concealed by a small bush, and was gobbling like a turkey. He was waitirg to see if
any one would come out from the fort to kill
the turkey, in.which case he would be sure to
kill the person before the latter could discover
the deception. He was utterly unconscious of
the hunter's presence, however, and the old
man crept up cautiously within easy range of
him, and shot him through the head. He took
the fellow's scalp, and hastened back to the
fort.
Tom    Oxenford, who   had been waiting





186    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


impatiently at the fort, heard the shot, and was
in great eagerness to get his prize. As he saw
the old man come in through the gateway
without the turkey, he almost cried with vexation.
" There, now,"   he  exclaimed, sharply,
" you've let the turkey go.   I knew   you
would. I would have killed it if I had gone."
"I didn't let it go, Tom," said the hunter,
quietly.
" Then where is it?" asked the boy.
"There," replied the old man, throwing the
bloody scalp down on the ground before the
boy. "There, Tom, take your turkey; I don't
want it."
Tom gazed at the scalp in utter bewilderment, and then there flashed across his mind a
full sense of the dreadful fate from which Bill
Davis's quickness and good sense had saved
him; and seizing the old man's hand, he burst
into tears.
"There, there, lad," said the hunter, laughing; "don't blubber at a dead Injun's sculp.





THE SIEGE.


187


But I say, Tom," he added, roguishly, " don't
you ever mistake a red-skin for a turkey
agin'."
The incident was soon known throughout
the fort, and "Tom's turkey" became a byword.
A  week passed away quietly. About the
tenth of September, news was received from
Grove Creek that the savages, under the infamous renegade Simon Girty, had attempted
to capture Fort Henry, at Wheeling, and had
been defeated. The messenger went back to
Grove Creek that night, and as it was not
improbable that the Indians might make an
attempt on the fort at Fish Creek, Captain
Oxenford resolved to be on his guard.
Four of the men left the fort one morning
to cross over to the south side of the creek to
get a kettle that had been left in one of the
cabins. They had reached the water, 'and
were about to ford it, when several shots were
fired at them from the woods. One of the
men fell dead at the verge of the creek, and





188


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


the other three started at full speed for the fort.
The gate was held in readiness to admit them;
but as they came within fifty yards of the
defences, a heavy volley was poured at them
from the woods with fatal effect.
"Bar up the gate, boys," cried Bill Davis,
quickly. "Them poor fellows is out of harm's
way now; but, if I ain't mightily mistaken
we're in for a sight of work."
The gate was made fast, and the settlers,
alarmed by the heavy firing, came rushing
out of their cabins into the yard, to learn the
cause of it. The first person that approached
Bill Davis was the wife of one of the men
who had been killed.' The hunter did not
know how to tell her of her loss, and he ran by
her without replying to her eager questions.
"Get your guns, men," he shouted; "the fort
is attacked."
Then hurrying to Captain Oxenford's quarters, he called to Mrs. Oxenford, who was
busy helping her husband to cut away the
wooden strips which covered the loop-holes.





THE SIEGE.


189


"Mrs. Oxenford," said he, " Vent and Spencer have been killed by the savages. Please
go and tell their wives, for I haven't the heart
to do it. You women can do these things
better than I can."
Mrs. Oxenford hastened to the cabins of the
afflicted families, but the poor women had already heard the sad news, and were weeping
violently. She did what she could to comfort
them; but, ah! the kindest, tenderest sympathy
is powerless to console in cases like this.
"How   many men have we lost, Davis?"
asked Captain Oxenford, as his wife went
out.
"Four, sir; Vent and Spencer, and two of
the hunters. Vent was killed first, and the
others were cut down by that volley you heard
jist now. Take my word for it, cap', we've
got trouble in store for us, for thar's a strong
body of Injuns in them woods."
Captain Oxenford, having cleared away the
loop-holes in his quarters, now hurried into the
yard of the fort, and summoned the men to





190    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


his side. The garrison at this time consisted
of sixteen able-bodied men and boys, all of
whom were good marksmen. These were required to have their powder-horns and bulletpouches slung at their sides, and the women
were set to moulding the lead into bullets, and
preparing bandages for those who might be
wounded. These things once arranged, the
men were ordered to occupy the cabins and
block-houses on the side nearest the Indians,
who were still in the woods.
It was but seven o'clock in the morning,
and the day was bright and beautiful. The
Indians were still concealed in the woods, and
had remained perfectly quiet after firing the
volley which killed the settlers, not even venturing out to scalp their victims. Half an
hour passed away, and the silence began to
be oppressive. The garrison had orders to
await the movements of the enemy, and to
fire slowly and deliberately, and not to waste
a shot. At the end of the half hour a terrific
yell arose from the woods, and the Indians





THE SIEGE.


19I1


emerged from their cover, and advanced towards the fort. They were about three hundred strong, and their line extended from the
woods around to the creek, and down to the
cornfield in the bottom. As they left the
woods, a loud whoop arose on their right, and
was taken up and passed along their line from
right to left. They threw their left wing into
the cornfield, their right clung to the woods
just back of the fort, and detached parties
were thrown into the cabins and stables of
Captain Oxenford and Mr. Whittaker, which
were within rifle range of the fort. This disposition of the savage forces was very skilful,
as it placed nearly 'every man under cover,
and occupied ground from which a sharp fire
could be directed upon the fort. It took about
twenty minutes to complete these arrangements,
and at the end of that time an Indian advanced
from the woods towards the fort, carrying a
dirty white cloth, which he waved as a flag
of truce. He paused within speaking distance,
and gave a loud halloo





192


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


"What do you want?" asked Captain Oxenford, who was standing at one of the loopholes.
"Me big Injun-heap," said the savage,
striking his breast pompously.
"You are very well grown for your age, my
beauty," cried Bill Davis, who was looking
out from the loop-hole next to the captain.
The settlers greeted this remark with a
laugh, which seemed to excite the Indian's
wrath, for he struck his breast still more violently, and called out lustily, -
" Me big Injun; much heap."
"What do you want?" called Captain Oxenford again.
" Give up, give up fort," shouted the savage.
"Too many Injun. Injun too big. No kill."
"You are a parcel of cowards," cried the
captain. " Come on as soon as you wish. We
are ready for you; and as soon as you show
your yellow hides, we'll make holes in them
for you."
" Go back," called the old hunter, mocking




THE SIEGE.


193


ly. "Tell your people to send a warrior to
talk with us. You are an old squaw."
The savage uttered a howl of rage as he
heard the insulting language of the hunter.
He shook his fist at the walls, and called out
something in the Indian tongue. Just then
Tom Oxenford, unable to resist the temptation,
fired at him, and the ball struck him in the
arm, causing him to drop his flag, and take
to his heels.
As the wounded red-skin reached his lines,
the Indians fired a general volley at the fort,
and the very earth seemed to shake under the
discharge of the three hundred rifles. The settlers could hear the balls strike the logs with a
dull thud; but as all the whites were under
cover, no one was hurt. The firing was now
kept up pretty rapidly, the savages feeling so
sure of success that they fired at random. The
principal attack was upon the north side of the
fort, and the main strength of the garrison
was collected there, only one of the boys
being stationed in each of the other block13





194    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


houses to fire upon the enemy, and watch their
movements in that quarter. The whites fired
slowly and deliberately, and whenever a dusky
warrior exposed himself at all, he was sure to
receive a rifle-ball as the reward of his daring.
The savages acted in a very reckless manner,
and it was evident that they were all very
much under the influence of whiskey. Late
in the afternoon the enemy advanced closer to
the fort on the side of the woods, and as, in
doing so, they exposed themselves more than
they had previously done, the fire from the
fort became more rapid and fatal.
John Oxenford had been stationed in the
block-house overlooking the cornfield, to which
the Indian left wing still clung. He could
only see an occasional puff of smoke from the
rows of corn, and hear the crack of a hostile
rifle immediately afterwards, but during the
morning he could not get a shot at anything.
The firing on the other side of the fort excited
him very much, and it required all his resolution to enable him to stay at his post.





THE SIEGE.             195
In the afternoon, however, matters changed.
The Indians, finding that their fire was not returned on this side of the fort, seemed to think
that the attention of the garrison was occupied
on the other side, and that they might be able
to send a party over the walls in this quarter.
About four o'clock Dan Whittaker came into
the block-house, where John was standing, looking eagerly through a loop-hole at the movements of the Indians.
"John," he said, "your father has sent me
here to ask how matters are going in this
quarter. What shall I say?"
"I haven't had a shot at them to-day, Dan,"
said John, without turning his head.
"What are you looking at?" asked Dan,
going to one of the loop-holes.
"Look at those Indians in the cornfield,"
said John. "What are they doing?"
"They seem to be coming this way," said
Dan. "You keep an eye on 'em, John, and
I'll go ask the captain to send some of the
men to this side."





196     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
Dan ran out of the block-house, and hastened across the yard.
" I'll have a shot this time," thought John;
and sure enough he was right.
About thirty Indians now left their cover in
the cornfield, and commenced to creep stealthily towards the fort. Their rifles were slung
across their backs, and they were unencumbered with anything that could impede their
progress. John watched them  eagerly, and,
cocking his rifle, brought it up to the loophole. The next moment the Indians were within a hundred yards of the walls. One of them,
who seemed to be the leader of the party,
raised his hand above his head, to wave on
his men; and, taking advantage of this, John
drew a bead on his exposed breast, and fired.
The savage tottered for an instant, and then
fell heavily to the ground. At this moment
Dan Whittaker and one of the hunters came
bounding into the room.
"They're right on us, Dan.   Be quick,"
cried John, who was reloading his rifle with
all possible speed.





THE SIEGE.


197


"All right," said Dan, as his companion
and himself took their posts at the loop-holes.
" There are three more men in the block-house
at the other corner."
The Indians had hesitated for a moment,
as they saw their leader fall; but they dashed
forward now at a sharp run, encouraged by
the fact that but one shot had been fired at
them. They were doomed to disappointment,
however, for the five men, who had come to
John's assistance, opened on them from the
two corners of the fort which commanded their
approach, and as each man had marked out
his victim, the fire resulted in the death of five
Indians. Still the savages pressed on, uttering
yells that made the hearers' blood run cold.
They reached the base of the walls, and some
of them tried to climb up the smooth sides to
the roof above; but the defenders had now reloaded, and were prepared for them. Each
one fired at will; and, as the savages were
within point-blank range, the shots were all
effective. Not one was thrown away. Two





T98


9 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


of the red-skins were shot on the walls, and
the savages began to find that they were in a
very warm place; so, abandoning the undertaking, they fled in dismay to the cornfield,
leaving nine of their men on the ground, and
carrying off four or five wounded. The settlers were all tried marksmen, and it was very
rare that their shots resulted in anything but
death.
"That was pretty well done," said Dan
Whittaker, as the Indians disappeared in the
standing corn. "I don't think they'll try that
again very soon."
" I reckon not," said John. "They've been
very severely punished; but it was lucky for
us all, Dan, that you came here when you did.
I couldn't have given the alarm and watched
those fellows at the same time; and it was my
shooting that chief that made the red-skins halt.
If they had kept on, they might have climbed
the wall before you and the others came."
Late in the afternoon a sharp fire, accompanied by loud yells, was opened on the west





THE SIEGE.


199


side of the fort, which drew most of the garrison in that direction. Under the cover of
this attack, a party of eighteen or twenty Indians, armed with rails and logs of wood, made
an impetuous dash at the gateway of the fort.
The movement was detected, however, by old
Bill Davis.
"Come on, boys," he cried, excitedly, rushing to the cabins where the men were engaged;
"'the red devils are beating down the gate.
Quick! they'll be inside in a minute."
Captain Oxenford sent ten men, with the
old man, to the row of stables, the loop-holes
of which commanded the gateway. They arrived in good time, for the savages were already
battering away at the enclosure, which was
not capable of withstanding such heavy blows.
The settlers opened a sharp fire upon the astonished Indians, who had imagined that their
movement was not known to the whites, and
in five minutes the enemy were driven back,
with the loss of five or six of their number.
Their comrades greeted this failure with yells





200    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


of rage, and until sunset poured a heavy fire
upon the fort from all sides. Only one man
was wounded in the garrison.    A  rifle ball
came into one of the block-houses, through a
loop-hole, and struck one of the settlers in the
shoulder. The wound was painful, but not at
all dangerous, and the man was turned over to
the women, who dressed his shoulder.
At nightfall the fire of the savages slackened,
and for several hours only an occasional shot
was fired. No one slept in the fort. The men
were equally distributed among the four blockhouses, and were ordered to hold themselves
in readiness to repel an attack at any moment.
There was no necessity for this order, however,
for no one felt like sleeping with the enemy
so near.
John Oxenford, Dan Whittaker, and Bill
Davis were all in the same block-house. No
lights were allowed in the fort, for it was feared
that they might draw the fire of the savages
upon the loop-holes, and that some one might
be injured in this way. The two boys rarely





THE SIEGE.


20I


left the loop-holes, and kept straining their eyes
through the darkness to try to make out the
movements of the enemy. About an hour after
midnight, John touched Dan, and told him to
watch the ground about half way between the
two block-houses on this side of the fort.
There is something moving there, I am certain," he said, in a low tone.
"Nonsense," said Dan; "it's your imagination."
"I mean to give it a shot, anyhow," said
John; and, slipping his gun through the loophole, he aimed carefully at the object which had
attracted his attention. The report of his rifle
was answered by a howl of pain, and the boys
heard the scampering of feet in the direction
of the Indian lines.
"What do you think of that, Dan?" John
asked, triumphantly.
"Well," replied Dan, "you were right it
seems; but I never should have fired at that
thing."
The next morning it was found that the In




202    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


dians had removed their dead during the night,
and had scalped and horribly mutilated the settlers that had been killed at the opening of the
attack. On the spot where John had wounded
the Indian during the night was a considerable
quantity of fodder and dried grass. The boy
pointed it out to the old hunter, and asked if he
could tell why it was placed there.
0", yes," replied the old man; " that's plain
enough. The varmint you shot last night was
tryin' to put it under the wall of the fort."
" What was that for??" asked the boy.
"To burn us out, you ninny," said the old
man, laughing; "but when you hit him, he
dropped it, I suppose, and ran back; so your
shot saved us a powerful. sight of trouble. Putting out that fire under the rifles of the redbellies wouldn't have been any fun, I can tell
you*."ý
The savages reopened the attack at sunrise,
and continued it during the day. Their losses
had been so severe, however, that they were
more prudent than during the first day. They





THE SIEGE.


203


kept under cover, and it was rare that the settlers were able to inflict any injury upon them.
The men were much worn down by loss of
sleep and fatigue, and Captain Oxenford, thinking it likely that it would be necessary to keep
them up all night, stationed a sentinel in each
block-house, with orders to keep up a show of
firing, and gave the rest permission to sleep
on the floor of the block-houses in which they
were stationed.  He did not close his eyes,
however.
During all this time, the women had behaved
nobly. Even the poor creatures whose husbands had been killed kept their grief to themselves, and refrained from  embarrassing or
unmanning the defenders of the fort by a show
of timidity. They were busy moulding bullets,
and kept the men well supplied with them.
They served them with their meals at their
posts, and throughout the whole siege not a
murmur or a timid word was heard from them.
They were a brave, heroic race, those pioneer
women, and they were worthy mothers of the





204    PLANTING THIE WILDERNESS.


men who have made the sweet west so powerful
and glorious.
Bill Davis kept the captain company. He
could not sleep, he said, with the rifles of the
enemy cracking all around him, and as for
fatigue, he was used to that. He kept a close
watch over the movements of the enemy, for he
had very little faith in the vigilance of the sentinels in the block-houses.
"Look yonder, cap'," he exclaimed;  look
at them Injuns by your cabin, over yonder.
Hang me if they hain't got a white gal along
with 'em."
The captain looked in the direction indicated,
and, sure enough, there was a white woman
in the midst of the savages. She disappeared
in a few minutes, leaving the two men very
much perplexed by her presence in such inappropriate company.
"She's a prisoner, I reckon," said the hunter.
"She's some poor cretur the red-bellies has
stolen away; and if they don't kill her, they'll
take her with 'em, and make a squaw of





THE SIEGE.


205


her; and, to my mind, that's jist as bad as
losin' your har."
At sunset the fire of the Indians was increased, and a fresh attempt was made to storm
the gateway; but this was driven off, with a
loss of six or seven men to the enemy.
As the savages retired, the defenders heard
a loud cheer without, accompanied by rapid
firing, and a succession of Indian yells. The
sounds grew louder, and seemed to be coming
towards the fort. The hunter hastened to the
block-house, which commanded a view of the
spot from which the noise proceeded.  The
next moment he came rushing back.
"Open the gate," he shouted. "There's a
company of mounted men coming to help us,
and they're cutting their way through the Injuns. Open the gate, and let 'em in."
The horsemen were now within a few yards
of the fort, and, as the gate was thrown open,
they dashed into the enclosure at full speed.
The Indians pressed on hotly after them, and
tried to enter the fort with them; but the





2o6


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


settlers, who had been expecting this, gave the
savages a volley which sent them reeling back
towards the cornfield. The gate was closed
and securely barred, and the garrison turned
to welcome their friends.  The new comers
consisted of twenty men from Grove Creek.
They had heard of the attack on the fort from
their scouts, and had hastened to the assistance of their friends.  Fortunately, they had
but two men wounded in cutting their way
through the Indians. They were warmly welcomed, for their generous heroism was fully
appreciated by the settlers.
After the arrival of the horsemen, the fire of
the Indians ceased altogether, and during the
next five or six hours, everything was perfectly still. Some of the settlers thought the
savages had given up the siege and withdrawn;
but Bill Davis shook his head sagely, and declared they were only up to some " deviltry."
About midnight, John Oxenford was crossing the yard from his father's quarters to the
block-house, to which he had been assigned,





THE SIEGE.


207


and, in doing so, he passed by the gate. He
thought he heard a faint tapping at it, and
paused to listen.
"Please let me in," cried a plaintive voice
without. John listened again, and the cry was
repeated.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" he
asked, going up to the gate.
" Let me in; the Indians will kill me," cried
the voice, loudly. Then it added, in a low
tone, "Can you hear me if I speak very low?"
" Yes," replied John, lowering his own voice;
"but what do you want?"
" I'm a girl," said the voice in a low tone.
"The Indians took me prisoner yesterday morning. They have sent me here to get you to
open the gate and let me in; but don't do it -
don't do it. As soon as you open the gate for
me, they will rush in, and murder the garrison.
They will kill me if I fail, but I had better die
than all of you."
"Where are the Indians?" asked the boy,
touched by the girl's heroism.





208    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


"They are lying on the ground within a few
yards of the gate," she answered, "and can
hear you, if you speak very loud."
Stay here till I come back," said John, "and
keep your ear close to the gate, so you can
hear me when I speak to you. I mean to try
to save you, and I think I can do it."
The girl continued her cry, and John hastened to find his father and the old hunter, to
whom he related the strange occurrence.
"She's a noble girl," said the captain, "and
we must save her, if we can."
"She's the, gal we saw this morning," said
the hunter; "and, between -us, I think we can.save her."
The old man then stated to the captain a
plan for the rescue of the girl, which was instantly approved. The three then hastened to
the gate, where the girl was still uttering her
cries.
"Are you there yet?" asked John, in a low
tone.
"Yes," she answered, cautiously.





THE SIEGE.


209


" Where are the Indians?"
"In the same place."
"Can they see you?"
"No, not plainly; it is too dark."
"Then listen to me," said John. "A rope
will be lowered over the wall, about three feet
firom the right hand side of the gate, in a few
minutes. Move yourself there cautiously, and
feel along the wall till you find the rope. Tie
the lower end of it to your waist, and catch
it above your head with your hands. When
you have done this, pull the rope gently with
your hands, so that we may know when you
are ready, and we will draw you up.on the
roof."
"0, thank you! thank you!" said the girl,
eagerly. "God bless you for your kindness."
"Hush!" said John. "The Indians will
hear you. Now go, for we shall lower the
rope right away."
John joined his father and the hunter, who
had climbed to the roof of the stables, and had
dropped one end of a stout rope over the wall
14





210    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


at the appointed place. In a minute or two
they felt the rope being drawn gently once or
twice, which was the signal that all was in
readiness below.  All three then seized the
rope, and, the girl's light weight offering but
a slight obstacle to their united efforts, they
soon had her drawn up to the roof.     The
next moment she was by their side.
"Now," said the captain, "get down that
ladder into the yard, quick.     They may
see us."
He had scarcely spoken, when several shots
were fired at them from without, followed by
a scattering volley, telling plainly that the Indians had discovered the rescue of the girl,
and the failure of their own ruse.  But the
fire did no damage. The girl had reached
the yard, and the others lay down flat on the
sloping roof, and the balls whistled over them.
As soon as the firing ceased, they swung themselves down into the yard, where the rescued
captive was awaiting them.
"Now, John," said the captain, "you and





THE SIEGE.


211


Davis must go back to your posts. I'll take
this girl to your mother, and she shall look
after her to-night."
The group then separated. Towards morning a bright light shone in through the loopholes, and it was found that the Indians. were
setting fire to the cabins outside of the fort.
"That's a good sign," said the hunter.
"Why?" asked John.
"It means that they've given up the hope
of taking the fort, and are going away," was
the reply. "I think we shall git off pretty
well, my lad."
The hunter was right. The savages made
no further demonstration during the night, and
at sunrise there were no signs of them visible.
The garrison remained in the fort during the
day, but the next morning a party was sent
out to follow the trail of the enemy, and found
that they had fled across the Ohio into their
own country. The danger being over, the
Grove Creek horsemen bade adieu to their
friends, and returned home.





212


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


The fort had been gallantly held. The savages numbered three hundred chosen warriors,
and they were exasperated by their failure to
take Fort Henry at Wheeling, and Rice's Fort,
on Buffalo Creek, and were resolved to destroy the Fish Creek settlement at all hazards.
Their loss was never known accurately, as
they carried off their killed and wounded; but
it was confidently believed to be not less than
sixty, of whom the greater number were killed.
The loss of the settlers was insignificant. Besides the four men who had been killed at the
opening of the siege, only one of their number
had been wounded.    The two wounded men
belonging to the Grove Creek horsemen were
not members of the garrison, and they came
when the victory was practically won. The
settlers had a right to feel proud, for the stand
they had made had been in defence of the
liberties of America, as well as for their own
immediate protection. The attack was one of
a series inaugurated and carried on by the
British Governor Hamilton, of Detroit, and the





THE SIEGE.             213
savages had been supplied with arms and materials of war by the government of Great
Britain, which had resolved to destroy the
young Republic, if it could not reduce it to
submission.





214


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


CHAPTER XI.
THE CAPTURE.
THE morning after the burning of the cabins
by the Indians, John went home to breakfast,
the first meal the family had eaten since the
siege began.  He found the young girl that
had been rescued the night before helping his
mother about her household duties, and as she
saw him enter, she came forward frankly, and
offered him her hand. She was a fine specimen of the frontier maiden, and there was not
a prettier girl along the whole border. She
was about his own age; and the roses on her
cheeks would have extorted the envy of many
a city belle. John took her offered hand bashfully, and his color deepened as she thanked
him for saving her from the Indians. He stammered out something about being very glad to
serve her, and his confusion was increased as





THE CAPTURE.


215


he saw his mother glancing at him with a
smile, the meaning of which he read at once.
The good dame saw through the simple boy in
an instant, and she was not altogether sorry
that he had lost his heart from the moment he
laid eyes on the pretty stranger.
The maiden said her name was Annie Clarke,
and that she was an orphan. She had been
living with some distant relatives, who had recently located a few miles back of the Grove
Creek Fort. They had not thought it worth
while to seek refuge in the fort; and on the day
before the attack on the Fish Creek settlement,
the savages had made a descent on their clearing, and had massacred all the family but the
young girl. They had brought her with them,
intending to carry her to their towns, and marry
her to one of their young men. Being baffled
in all their attempts to take the Fish Creek Fort,
they had sent her to act as a decoy, hoping to
surprise the garrison in this way; but the heroic
girl had resolved to put the whites on their
guard, even at the cost of her own life. The





216


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


result had not been in accordance with her
expectations. She said she had no friends in
the world now, and that she knew not what
to do.
After breakfast that morning, Mrs. Oxenford
had a long talk with the captain about the pretty
stranger. She had taken a decided interest in
her, and she was anxious to keep her with her,
as one of the family. She mentioned that she
thought John was disposed to fall in love with
her. She was glad of this, as she wanted him
to marry as soon as he could after he came
of age; and if he fancied this girl, she (his
mother) would have an opportunity of contributing to the formation of the character of her
son's wife.  She had a dread of her boy's
marrying a stranger.  So it was settled that
Annie Clarke should remain in the family as
one of them. Nothing was to be said about the
matrimonial part of the affair, but the young
people were to be left to take their own course.
Annie was well pleased with the offer of a
home, and accepted it gratefully; and as for





THE CAPTURE.


217


John, he was delighted with the arrangement.
Three years passed away. John was now of
age, and had grown up into a tall, fine-looking
young fellow. Annie had fulfilled her early
promise, and had become a beautiful woman,
and it was decided that she and John should be
married the next year. The settlers had remained in the fort since the events describeed in
the last chapter; for although nothing of such
a momentous character had transpired during
the interval, the Indians had shown too much
activity to make it safe for any one to live outside the walls of the fortification. There had
been neither deaths nor removals to decrease
the population of the settlement; but, on the
contrary, there had been several additions to the
community in the shape of three or four plump
pioneer babies. The old hunter, Bill Davis,
had abandoned his roving life to a great extent,
and had settled down at the fort. He said he
meant to wait there until John and Annie were
married, and then he would pass the rest of his
days with them, wherever they might go.





218     PLAN'TING THE WILDERNESS.
It was exactly three years from the day of
the attack on the fort, and was now the middle
of September, 1780. About eight o'clock in the
morning, a heavy, black smoke was seen rising
in the direction of Grove Creek. It was evident that it proceeded from some extraordinary
cause, and the settlers were very much perplexed about it.
"I'm afraid the fort at Grove Creek is on
fire," said Captain Oxenford to the old hunter.
"So am I, cap'," replied the old man. "No
ordinary cabin would make a smoke like that."
"I think we ought to send out and see what
is the matter," said the captain. "You know
our friends there came promptly to our assistance when they thought we were in danger."
" You are right, cap'," said the hunter. " I'll
go if I can get ten men to go with me."
"I'll go," said John and Dan in a breath.
Several others professed their willingness to
join the party, and the number was soon made
up. They left the fort at once, well armed,





THE CAPTURE.


219


and took the shortest route to Grove Creek.
They marched rapidly, in Indian file, the hunter
leading the way. They had passed over half
the distance between the two forts, when the
hunter suddenly gave the command to halt.
"Boys," said he, in a low tone, "I can't get
rid of the idea that thar"s Injuns about. Now, it
won't do for us to run right into 'em without
knowing it."
"How will you prevent it?" asked one of the
men.
"Easy," replied the hunter.  "One of us
must go ahead a little distance, and if thar's
any Injuns about, they'll be apt to fire at him
first, and the rest of us can get out of the way,
or be ready for 'em."
"That's all very good, except for the man
that goes ahead," said the settler.
"I intend to be that man," said the hunter,
quietly.
"We'd better draw straws for it," said one of
the men.
"Certainly; that will be fair," was the general exclamation.





220     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
"No, boys," said the hunter, firmly; "I'm in
command of this party, and I'll expose none of
you to the danger of such a venture. I'll do
the reconnoitring myself. If I'm killed, why,
nobody'll miss me. You've all got mothers,
and wives, and sisters at the fort, while I've
got nobody but this here boy;" and he laid
his hand affectionately on John's shoulder.
"Thank you, Bill," said John, softly.
"Now, boys," resumed the hunter, "I'll go
ahead, and do you follow me at about a hundred
yards' distance. Be ready for action at a second's warning."
The men caught their rifles at a " ready," and
they set off again, with the hunter about a hundred yards in front. They passed over another
mile of the way without speaking, when suddenly the hunter paused, and waited for them
to come up with him.
"What is the matter?" asked John.
"Look yonder," said the old man, pointing
along the pathway they were travelling; "don't
you see them Injun trinkets? Well, sure as





THE CAPTURE.


221


we live, the red-bellies themselves ain't far
away."
The path a few yards in advance of them
was strewn with Indian trinkets and beads,
and the men felt very confident that the hunter
was right in his suspicions of the proximity of
the savages.
" What shall we do?" asked one of the men.
"We'll quit this path, and cut around through
the woods," said the hunter. "It isn't safe to
keep this road any longer; so we'll wheel
about at once."
They were standing in a narrow bridle-path,
with the thick woods on each side of them.
As the hunter spoke, a heavy volley was
poured into them from each side of the road.
Two of them fell dead, and a third was slightly wounded.
"Take to the trees, and run for it, boys,"
shouted 'the hunter. "They've got to load
agin."
The survivors now set off at a rapid pace
for the fort, with the savages in hot pursuit.





222


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


There were about twenty Indians in the attacking party, and this number was reduced
by three or four, who fell beneath the unerring
rifles of the whites in the running fight which
ensued, and which was continued for several
miles. At length there was a sharp crack of.
a rifle immediately behind John Oxenford, and
the young man felt something sting the calf
of his leg; and the next instant he sank to
the ground, utterly unable to run another step.
He knew he had been wounded, and he expected to be killed the next moment. To his
utter astonishment, he saw  Dan Whittaker
stop by his side. The savages were close at
hand, and he called to Dan to make his escape.
"I'll stay here with you, John," said the
brave fellow, quietly. " I said I'd stick by you
through thick and thin, and I'll do it."
"But, Dan," said John, "they'll kill you,
and you can do me no good by staying
here."
" A man can't die but once," said Dan, cool




THE CAPTURE.


223


ly; "and if that's got to be your fate, I'll share
it with you."
The next instant the savages were upon
them. One of the red warriors raised his
hatchet aloft to crush John's skull; but Dan
was too quick for him, and springing before
the body of his friend, he gave the savage a
blow between the eyes with his fist, that sent
him reeling to the ground. A shout of laughter from the Indians, who now came running
up, greeted this exploit, and the one who
Seemed to be the leader of the party called
out to his men not to kill the prisoners. They
were seized, however, and bound securely.
One of the Indians then examined John's
wound in the leg, and after chewing up some
leaves which he took from his belt, bound
them tightly around the hurt. The pursuit of
the other whites was now abandoned, and the
Indians told the young men by signs that they
must go with them. This the captives prepared to do, and the party set off in the direction of the river. It was too high to be forded,





224     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
but the savages had two large canoes concealed
on the Virginia shore, and by means of these
they were soon on their own soil again. The
canoes were drawn up and concealed in the
woods, -and the band set off for their towns
in the north-western part of Ohio.   They
camped about dark, and their prisoners were
bound hand and foot, to keep them from escaping. The cords were tied so tight as to
be painful, and the young men could scarcely
sleep at all. They were thankful when the
morning came, and the march was resumed.
John's leg was very painful, but the savages
forced him to keep up with them, in spite of
this. Dan walked by him all the way, often
supporting him, and sometimes almost carrying him. He was always cheerful, and inclined to take a hopeful view of matters, and
his devotion to his wounded friend, for whose
sake he had suffered himself to be captured,
was beautiful to behold.
On the morning of the fifth day the savages
halted in about two hours after breaking up





THE CAPTURE.


225


their camp of the previous night.    They
painted themselves hideously, and then, approaching their prisoners, smeared the face of
each with a black substance. John's heart
sank within him at this, for he knew that it
was a sign that they were doomed to death,
and his knowledge of the Indian customs told
him what kind of death they were appointed
to die. The savage who painted him must
have read this in the young man's face, for
he burst into a brutal laugh as he smeared
the dye over the skin. John looked at Dan in
silence. The young man's face was pale, but
tranquil, and he met John's look with a smile.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I don't mind it for myself, Dan," said John,
in a trembling voice, "but I can't bear to think
that you should be here on my account."
"Well, then, don't think of it," said Dan.
"To tell the truth, John, I don't care to live
after you are gone. We've been together so
long that to lose you would be like giving up
a part of myself."
I5





226


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


The savages now resumed their walk, and
the two friends were ordered to move on.
About noon the Indians gave two loud
whoops of a peculiar character, which were
meant to let all their people within hearing
know that they had returned with two prisoners. The whoops were repeated twice, at intervals of half an hour, and, the third time, were
answered some distance in advance. Then
was heard a furious barking of dogs, and in
a short time a bend in the road brought them
in sight of an Indian village of some fifteen
or twenty wigwams, or lodges. The savage
that had painted the prisoners now turned to
them, and pointed exultantly to their paint and
then to the lodges, as much as to say they
had reached the place where they were to
die.





THE TORTURE.


227


CHAPTER XII.
THE TORTURE.
THE town to which the two friends were
carried by their captors belonged to a tribe
of Mingo Indians, and was situated about half
way between Wheeling and Lake Erie. It
consisted of about fifteen or twenty huts, or
lodges, and contained a population of about
one hundred souls, of whom thirty were warriors. It was one of the remnants of that once
powerful tribe which has been immortalized
by the eloquence of Logan. The place was
dirty and squalid-looking, and it was evident
that the tribe was very poor.
The warriors were received at the entrance
of the town by those who had remained at
home, and by their women and children. The
latter at once commenced to pelt the captives
with mud and stones, and one old squaw struck





228    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


Dan in the face with a stick. Unable to resist
the impulse, Dan gave her a box on the ear
with his open hand, and sent her reeling from
him. He expected to be killed or beaten for
his audacity, but the savages burst into a laugh
at the discomfiture of the squaw, and ordered
her to let the prisoners alone. After this, John
and Dan were taken to one of the lodges, and
after being tied hand and foot, were forced to
lie down upon the ground, and a guard was
placed at the entrance of the hut. About
nightfall they were given some coarse, boiled
hominy, and their hands were released until
they had finished their meal. Then they were
tied again, and forced to lie down on the floor
of the hut. The night, which was a sleepless
one to them, was passed by their captors in
drinking and carousing, and they could hear
their savage laughter until near daybreak,
after which everything grew quiet.
"What do you think they will do with us,
John?" asked Dan, who had been lying very
still.





THE TORTURE.


229


"They will burn us, without doubt," replied
his companion.   We shall know to-morrow,
however."
The next day at noon they were taken from
their place of confinement, and carried into
the open square of the town. A large fire
was built in the centre of the space, and around
it the oldest warriors were seated, smoking.
The prisoners were placed before this group,
and the remainder of the tribe stood by in
silence to hear the result of the deliberations.
One of the smokers arose, and, removing his
pipe, commenced a long address, in the course
of which he became very much excited, and
pointed frequently and angrily to the captives,
who stood by, unable to comprehend his language, but clearly understanding that he was
urging his companions to put them to death.
At length the man sat down, and there was
a profound silence. No one raised his voice
for mercy to the captives. In a few    moments the chief, who sat at the head of the
smokers, took a large knife, and cut a notch





230    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


on the side of his club. The knife and club
were then passed around the circle of smokers,
each of whom cut a notch in the wood. This
was the Indian method of deciding the fate of
the captives, for each notch was a vote in
favor of their death. Had there been any
present who desired to be merciful, he would
have passed the club to his neighbor without
cutting it. After the club had gone around
the circle, it was handed back to the chief,
who counted the notches, and then rose and
announced the decision of the council. The
prisoners were doomed to die at the stake at
sunrise the next day.
One of the old warriors, who- could speak a
little English, then informed the prisoners of
their sentence. He told them that they would
now have to run the gantlet of the warriors
of the tribe, and that, although the council had
condemned them to death, they would be spared
upon condition of their joining the tribe, if they
could succeed in reaching the end of their terrible journey without being knocked down by
the clubs of the warriors.





THE TORTURE2


231


The savages were then ranged in two rows,
facing each other, about three or four feet apart,
and each one was armed with a stout club.
The prisoners were then placed at one end of
the rows, and ordered to run at full speed to
the lower end of the line, and then return.
Dan Whittaker was the first to start, and for a
while he was successful in dodging the blows
which were aimed at him; but at length a
large Indian struck him fairly over the head,
and laid him bleeding upon the ground. John
was not more fortunate. His wound prevented
him from running, and he had gone but a few
steps when he was knocked senseless. The
savages then dragged the poor fellows back to
the lodge in which they had spent the previous
night, and left them there with a guard, to recover their consciousness as best they could.
Dan was the first to recover. He raised
himself up, and, seeing John still insensible,
crawled over to him, and, supporting his head
in his lap, tried to restore him to consciousness.
At last he was successful. As John opened





232     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
his eyes, and saw his faithful friend bending
over him, he put up his arms, and, clasping
him around the neck, drew him down to him.
"God bless you, Dan," he whispered. "I
think we can die more bravely together than
either of us could apart."
"I know it, John," said Dan.
They spent the rest of the day and the night
in talking of home and those they loved. This
seemed to comfort them, although the thought
that they would never see home or friends
again was bitter enough to them.   Both of
them had been raised by Christian parents, and
they had lived the few years of their lives as
becomes those who "profess the faith of Christ
crucified;" and in these dark hours they found
this faith as weet solace* and a powerful support. As the night waned and the day dawned,
they sang the hymns they had sung at home,
until the lodge was filled with the melody, and
even the savages, roused from their slumbers,
listened with awe to what they thought the
death-song of the pale-faces.





THE TORTURE.


233


At sunrise the town was astir, and soon
after, the Indians came to conduct their prisoners to the place of torture. The place selected
for the occasion was the spot where the council had been held and the sentence passed on
the previous day. Two stout posts had been
driven into the ground, about three feet apart,
and around them a quantity of fagots had
been piled up. The prisoners were halted at
the stakes, and stripped to the skin.  Their
hands were then tied behind them, and they
were led to the posts, and fastened there by
stout thongs of untanned buffalo hide. Even
the savages seemed touched by the devotion
of the two friends to each other, for they did
not offer to separate them, as they embraced
each other for the last time, but patiently
waited till their parting was ended.
" Remember, Dan," said John, as they were
bound to the posts, "we must die like men.
Not a word, not a groan, must show these
monsters how we are suffering.    The Lord
will sustain us, and we shall meet again in





234


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


another and a better world, never to part
there."
"Never to part there, never to part," repeated Dan. The savages now formed a ring
around the stakes, and commenced to dance
around them, keeping time to a wild, piercing
chant.  This was continued for a quarter of
an hour, when they fell back, and half a dozen
warriors advanced, with small bows and a
number of fine needles, or arrows, of fat pine,
which they commenced to shoot into the naked
bodies of their victims. These arrows caused
painful wounds wherever they struck, and
started the blood in little, fine streams. After
shooting about a dozen of these arrows into
each of the victims, the men fell back, and
an old squaw advanced with a burning torch,
to fire the pile of fagots and light the pine
arrows which were sticking in the quivering
flesh of the young men.
The town was built just on the edge of the
woods, and the stakes were not more than fifty
or sixty yards from the trees. Every member





THE TORTURE.


235


of the tribe had assembled to witness the torture, and the red-skins were collected in a
close knot in front of the stakes, in order to
obtain a view of the prisoners' faces, and were
standing with their backs to the woods. As
the old woman advanced towards the pile, a
sheet of flame and smoke, accompanied by a
terrific crash, burst from the woods in the rear
of the savages, and a storm of bullets swept
through their midst, cutting down a number of
warriors and women and children. The next
moment a large force of hunters dashed out
of the forest with a yell, and rushed upon the
savages with the tomahawk. The surprise was
complete.  The Indians were utterly unprepared for and unsuspicious of such an attack;
and, though they made a gallant resistance,
they were put to flight, with the loss of half
their tribe. The whites were merciless, and
they spared neither age nor sex. They had
come out for the purpose of avenging the injuries they had suffered, and they were resolved
to exterminate the savages.





236    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


True to her instincts, the squaw had tried
to fire the pile in spite of the attack; but a
blow from the hatchet of one of the whites
deprived her of life and the power of doing
so. The captives were instantly released, the
arrows were drawn from their bodies, and their
wounds were dressed by their rescuers as tenderly and carefully as if the battle was not
raging around them. The clothing of which
they had been stripped was lying on the ground
near the stakes, and they were soon clad in
their own garments again. In answer to their
questions, the men who had come to their assistance told them that the expedition consisted
of one hundred men. It had been organized
at Wheeling, under the command of Major
Samuel McCulloch, the famous Indian-fighter.
It had been intended for service in another
quarter; but the old hunter, Bill Davis, had
come in haste to Fort Henry, and begged
Major McCulloch to help him to rescue "his
boys," as he called John and Dan. McCulloch
had generously consented to do this, and by





THE TORTURE.


237


a forced march of two days and nights
had reached the town just in time to save
them.
In half an hour the savages were routed
with terrible slaughter, and the battle was over.
Major McCulloch now approached the young
men, who were resting on the ground stiff and
sore from their wounds and bruises.  They
rose as he came up to them, and, grasping
both his hands, thanked him warmly for their
rescue.
"You don't owe me anything," he said. " I
am fully repaid for my part of the trouble by
seeing you safe. Your thanks are due to your
friend Davis, for he fairly dragged us here.
Where is he? I haven't seen him since the
fight began."
One of the men approached, and, touching
John on the shoulder, said, -
"Bill Davis has been badly wounded, and
wants to see you."
Leaning on Dan's arm, John limped after the
man, and Major McCulloch, who was an old





238    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


friend of the hunter, followed anxiously. They
found the old man lying on the ground just on
the outskirts of the village. He had been shot
through the breast at the opening of the fight,
and was now very faint from loss of blood.
He was lying with his eyes closed, and his
breathing was labored and painful. John
sank down by him, and, clasping his hand
in both of his, called his name in a tone of
sharp pain.  The hunter opened his eyes,
with a smile, at the sound of "his boy's"
voice.
"So you've come, lad," he said, faintly,
"and we got here in time to save you."
"Yes, Bill," said John, tearfully; "but at
what a price! Are you hurt much?"
"I'm done for this time," said the hunter;
"but I'm satisfied, so long as you are safe. Let
me rest my head in your lap, lad, and I'll die
easier then."
John lifted the old man's head into his lap,
and his tears fell fast upon the worn, weatherbeaten face. The men gathered around in





THE TORTURE.


239


silence, leaning on their rifles, and gazing with
tender pity upon the scene.
"I wish I could die for you, Bill," John
sobbed, as he stroked back the old man's hair,
tenderly.
(It's better as it is, lad," said the hunter,
faintly. "I'm an old fellow, and I've seen my
day; so it doesn't much matter about me. You
are young and vigorous, and you'll live to see
the country peaceful and settled yet. But, lad,
when you and Annie are married, and your little ones are playing at your knees, I want you
to teach them the name of the poor old hunter
that loved you so much; and if you would call
one of them by my name, I think I shall know
it, and be happier in that world where I am
going; for I couldn't bear to die, if I thought
you would forget me."
"I shall never forget you, Bill -never," said
the young man, weeping. "None of my blood
will ever cease to remember you."
"I know it," said the hunter, "and it is
that that makes me willing to die; for if you





240    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


had been my own flesh and blood, I couldn't
have loved you more. Where's Dan?" he
asked.
"Here I am, Bill," said Dan, controlling his
emotion, and taking the old man's hand.
"Dan Whittaker," said the old man, "I have
always loved you, too, because you loved John;
but not like I loved him, Dan - not like I loved
him; and now I'm going to leave him to you.
You will watch over him, Dan, and be to him
all that I meant to have been, had I been
spared. Will you promise me that?"
"I will, and, with God's help, I will keep
my promise," said Dan.
"That's right," murmured the hunter, faintly.
"With God's help; you can do nothing without
it. He has helped me many a time, and I'm
trusting to his mercy now. I've tried to live a
correct life, though I couldn't help cussin' when
I got mad. I never injured any one, and I
ain't afeard to die. Only don't let the Injuns
git my har. Bury me in the thick woods, whar
they won't find me; for I couldn't rest easy with





THE TORTURE.


241


my sculp a-swingin' to a red-skin's belt. Promise me that."
"I do promise," said John.
The hunter lay still and silent for a moment,
and his face commenced to take a grayish hue.
A tremor passed through his frame, and he
whispered faintly, -
"John, lad, I'm going. Will you pray with
me-the Lord's prayer, lad? You say it, and
I'll repeat after you, as I used to do at
my mother's knee when I was an innocent
child."
John's voice was choked with sobs, and it


was only by an effort that he
blessed words.
"Our Father," he began.
"Our Father," repeated the
and with difficulty.
"Which art-"
"Which art -" the voice
sinking to a mere whisper.
" In heaven-"


faltered out the
hunter, faintly,
wavering and


"In heaven," whispered the old man, a
16





242


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


smile, so sweet that it thrilled those who gazed
upon it, stealing over his dark face.   In
heaven," he whispered again- "in heaven;"
and the voice died away into silence - a
blessed silence, thank God; for the old hunter
was in heaven with his "Father."
They carried the hunter with them a day's
journey towards Wheeling, and buried him in
the thick woods, and concealed his grave so
that neither beast nor savage would ever find
it. The Indian has passed away, the forest
has been hewn down, and towns and cities
have sprung up around that spot since then;
but a truer, nobler heart than that of the old
hunter has never throbbed beneath the blue
skies of the west.
John and Dan were very sad during the
march homeward; for, in spite of their joy at
their own rescue, the death of their old friend
wrung their hearts with the deepest grief they
had ever known. Major McCulloch and his
men respected their sorrow, and left them almost to themselves. Upon reaching Fort Hen




THE TORTURE.            243
ry, they managed to get word of their safety to
their friends at Fish Creek; but they staid at
Wheeling till John's leg was well enough to
enable him to continue the journey home on
horseback.





244    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


CHAPTER XIII.
JOHN'S WEDDING.
WHEN John and Dan returned to Fish Creek,
they met with a welcome that more than repaid them for the sufferings they had experienced. It was some time before the wound
in John's leg healed entirely, for it had been
very much aggravated by his being compelled
to accompany the Indians, and make the march
with his rescuers on foot, so that the winter was
far advanced before he abandoned his character
of invalid. To tell the truth, he found it very
pleasant to be nursed by Annie, for his mother
had quietly resigned that task to her; and it
was not without regret that he found himself
entitled no longer to a sick man's privileges. He
was impatient for the spring to come; for on
the first day of May he was to make Annie
Clarke his wife.





JoHN'S WEDDING.


245


People married very young in those days;
and the old proverb, "Whom we first love we
seldom marry," would not have applied to the
frontier; for, as a general rule, the pioneers
married so young that they did not have time
to find a second love. It cost little or nothing
to take a wife. Any man who could build a
cabin, and clear up and work a few acres of
land, was in a position to marry; for the women of those days were not afraid of poverty
and toil.
From the first, it was determined that the
wedding (the first that had ever been projected
in the settlement) should be a grand affair.
One of the cabins in the fort had been assigned
to the young couple, and, for several weeks previous to the appointed day, the women were
busy in arranging it for them. John and Dan
worked, too, with a will (for the former had
not forgotten his boyish ingenuity), in making
the furniture and such like little knick-knacks as
they could think of; so that, when everything
was finished, the "establishment" of the young





246


PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


couple was the admiration of the entire community. It was all very rough and plain, to
be sure; but, then, dear reader, those for
whom it was designed were satisied with it.
Some of you, no doubt, look forward, and very
properly, too, to beginning life, when you
marry, in a handsome "brick" or "brown
stone," "with all the modern conveniences,"
and a full assortment of tasteful household furniture.  God grant that your hopes may be
realized; but I doubt if, after all, you will be
any happier or better satisfied than were these
young people with their log cabin, and rough
pine and oak household goods.    Invitations
were sent to the various settlements for twenty
miles around; and it was understood that everybody who could come would do so, whether
they were acquainted with the bride and groom
or not. There was very little ceremony on the
border, and people had but little use for formal
introductions.
On the day before the wedding, John Oxenford went to Grove Creek, accompanied by Dan





JOHN'S WEDDING.


247


Whittaker and Tom    Oxenford, to bring the
parson down to Fish Creek. They were to
return with the company from Grove Creek the
next day, and the marriage was to be celebrated
at high noon.
On the morning of the first of May, 1781,
a goodly company left Grove Creek to attend
the wedding, or frolic-for at that period the
terms were synonymous.     You would have
stared, could you have seen them, dear reader.
The. men were dressed in shoe packs,* moccasons, leather breeches, leggings, and linsey hunting-shirts.  Each man carried his huntingknife at his belt, his powder-horn and shotpouch at his side, and his rifle was slung across
his shoulder. The ladies were dressed in linsey
petticoats, and linsey or linen bed-gowns, coarse
shoes, stockings, and cotton handkerchiefs. If
they wore gloves, the material used was a
coarse buck-skin. Of jewelry there was none,
unless, perhaps, some one might have been
so fortunate as to be the possessor of some old
* A leather shoe, without a sole, made like a moccason.





248    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


family relic or heirloom, at which their granddaughters of to-day would be very apt to turn
up their noses. The horses were caparisoned
with bridles of rough tanned leather, old saddles that had been mended until very little of
the original article was left, and girths which
were as frequently a piece of rope as a leathern
strap. Yet these good people thought all this
very fine, and they were as merry and free from
care as it is possible to imagine. The only
thing they feared was an attack from the Indians; but even this was worth risking for the
fun that was in store for them.
The party left the fort with a cheer, and set
off in single file for Fish Creek. John, of
course, was the observed of all, and was the
object of many a good-natured, but homely,
jest. He tried very hard to maintain his gravity, but found it impossible to do so; and at last,
abandoning the attempt, he became as merry as
though he had not been going to his own wedding. The forest rang with the laughter of the
joyous party; and as some of the girls looked





JOHN'S WEDDING.


249


upon the handsome face and manly figure of
the bridegroom elect, they could not help wishing to themselves that they were to stand in
Annie Clarke's place.
The fort at Fish Creek was reached by
eleven o'clock, and the guests were at once
admitted, and their horses provided for.  A
number of persons of both sexes had already
arrived from other parts of the country, and one
or two young people had even come from as far
as Wheeling. There was no cabin in the fort
large enough to hold the company, and the big
storehouse had been fitted up for the occasion.
This had an earthen floor; but it was considered quite as good for dancing as one of
plank would have been.
At twelve o'clock the parson took his station
in the middle of the floor, and the company
grouped about him to witness the ceremony.
The next moment, Captain Oxenford and his
wife came in, followed by the bride and groom
elect. Annie was dressed in her best homespun petticoat, which came to her ankles, and





250    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


a bodice of old linen that Mrs. Oxenford had
brought with her from the east. Her plump,
pretty ankles were encased in yarn stockings
of the brightest red, and her foot, which was
the perfection of beauty, was fitted into a pair
of Indian moccasons. Her hair was braided
tastefully and simply, and in it she wore a
spray of wild violets. John was dressed in his
best hunting-shirt, his buck-skin breeches, linsey leggings, and a pair of Indian moccasons,
which he had secured upon the occasion referred to in the last chapter. "A handsomer
couple never stood before a parson," was the
unanimous comment of those present. Every
one in the settlement loved them, and all rejoiced in their happiness.  In a few minutes
the parson had "tied the knot," and had made
John Oxenford and Annie Clarke man and
wife. Then the fort rang with the cheers of
the men, the women waved their handkerchiefs, and all crowded around the happy pair
to offer their congratulations, and kiss the
bride.





JOHN'S WEDDING.


251I


The marriage over, the women repaired to
the cabin of Captain Oxenford to get ready
the dinner which had been provided, and the
men set the tables, which had been loaned by
the various families of the fort, in the storehouse. The bride and groom were as active
as the others in these preparations, and by two
o'clock the company were all seated around
the festive board. The dinner was a downright sensible meal, and consisted of beef, pork,
fowls, venison, and bear-meat, roasted and
boiled, with an abundance of cabbage, potatoes, and other vegetables. Seats were scarce,
but the men were willing to stand. There was
a deficiency of knives, too; but this was easily
remedied. The family knives were given to
the ladies, and the men made use of their
scalping-knives.
Whiskey took the place of wine, but it was
drank in moderation, for the men were very
Bayards in their deference to the gentler sex,
and no one thought of getting drunk in such
company. The dinner was eaten with zest,





252     PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
and when it was over there was not enough
left for a single meal for a person with a moderate appetite.
When the tables were removed, the floor
was cleared, and the dancing began. Think
of it, you who wait till half the night is over,
before beginning your pastime; think of going
to a ball at four o'clock on a May afternoon!
The fiddler was mounted on a barrel, at one
end of the room, and the first figure, which was
always, in such cases,  a square four," was
called.  Then came the "jigging it off," in
which the four would divide into couples, and
end the set with a jig. Then followed the
reels and jigs, which continued without slackening, until the fiddler was forced to throw up
his bow from sheer exhaustion. A brief rest
was allowed him, and he was ordered to begin
afresh. As fast as the dancers became tired,
their places were supplied from the lookers-on;
and thus the dance went on, until the next
day had fairly dawned.
At ten o'clock a deputation of young maidens





JOHN'S WEDDING.


253


stole away the bride, and, flying with her
across the yard to her new home, soon had her
tucked away in the bed, and half an hour
later, the bridegroom  disappeared from  the
ball-room, in company with Dan Whittaker and
several of his friends; and these young men
performed for him the kind office of stowing
him away by the side of his bride. Then they
returned to the ball-room.
The fun grew merrier now. No one was
allowed to sleep, and even the parson had to
take his share in the reels and jigs. The good
man was found, towards midnight, nodding
in a corner of the room. The young people
seized him  by the arms, amidst shouts of
laughter, and dragging him out on the floor,
bade the fiddler play " Hang out till to-morrow
morning," in token that the parson would not
be allowed to seek the rest he craved until
the night was over; but he outwitted the revellers, however, and, taking refuge in the loft
of one of the stables, slept there soundly from
midnight till sunrise.





254    PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.


About two o'clock in the morning, some one
called out to Captain Oxenford,
"I say, cap', it's about time to send 'Black
Betty' to the young folks."
Now, "Black Betty" was nothing more nor
less than a bottle of corn whiskey, and it was
the custom to send it to the newly-married
pair towards the wee hours of 'the morning.
This time "Betty" did not go alone, but the
deputation that carried her took with them a
supply of cabbage, pork, potatoes, and bearmeat, plentiful enough to feed the whole settlement, and the bride and groom were compelled to eat heartily of these provisions, although
they protested that they were not hungry. The
etiquette of the times supposed that they were
famished.
The dancing ceased at sunrise, and the guests
prepared to depart.  By nine o'clock, after
having partaken of a hearty breakfast, they
were all on their homeward way, and the fort
relapsed into its usual quietness.





JOHN'S WEDDING.


255


John and Annie Oxenford lived to a good
old age, and had the happiness of seeing the
country settled and prosperous. In his seventieth year, the former redeemed the promise
of his childhood, and built him a fine house
where his father's cabin had first been located
- the fort having been broken up, and the
settlers scattered, after the close of the Indian
wars.   He lived to see his great-grandchildren at his knee, and to give the name of the
old hunter, Bill Davis, - which was also that
of his eldest son and grandchild, - to the first
great-grandchild, so that to this day it is borne
by his descendants.
Dan Whittaker married Mary Oxenford two
years after John's marriage, and he and his
wife died a few years before John.      The
friendship which the two men bore each other
never wavered, and it was grief for the loss
of Dan that helped to bring John Oxenford
to his grave.
The descendants of those who formed the
little settlement are still scattered through the





256      PLANTING THE WILDERNESS.
country about Fish Creek; and to this day
they cherish, as a sort of precious legacy, the
traditions which their fathers handed down to
them of the exploits of the Pioneer Boys in
Planting the Wilderness.