The scout, with his family, returned to Boonesborough
"They say," replied the scout with a smile, "that lightning never strikes twice in the same place. I am not afraid. I think the Shawnees have been taught a good lesson. Colonel Bowmanand his one hundred and sixty men, though he was not very successful in his attack upon old Chillicothe, nevertheless showed the Indians that we were not unmindful of their plans. And Colonel Harrod at all events, when he made his attack with the horsemen, certainly scattered the Indians on every side. I think they will remember both men, although I wish that we might have inflicted greater damage upon their village. The report is that only two scalps were taken, but that may mean very little. The attacks which Colonel Bird, with his five hundred Indians and Canadians, made upon Riddle's Station and the little station upon the Licking River, seem to me to show that the Indians are not ready to give up yet."
Boone's assurance overcame the objections of his brother and persuaded him that there was no special danger attending their labours at Blue Licks.
The confidence of the scout seemed warranted when several days had passed, the necessary salt had been made, and the two men were preparing to return to the fort. Not an Indian had been seen, nor had there been any signs of their presence.
Hardly had the two men, however, set forth on their return when, without warning, they were attacked by a band of Indians. Boone's brother was killed and scalped. But the scout instantly darted into the thickest part of the forest. Owingto his superior knowledge of the country he was not overtaken at once; and running steadily and as swiftly as he was able, he at last sought refuge in a ravine, followed by a dog which the Indians were using to trail him. Boone waited quietly until the savage animal approached and then calmly shot it. Aware that the report of his rifle would reveal his presence to his enemies, the intrepid man, as the woods about him were dense and darkness was approaching, resolutely made his way into the forest again and resumed his flight toward Boonesborough.
With his usual coolness and fortitude, the great scout continued on his way, and without further trouble arrived at the fort.
"Peleg," he said the following day, when the two were labouring in the field together, "Blue Licks somehow seems to be destined to be a place of trouble and sorrow for me. Only a few days ago my brother was calling my attention to that fact and now his death has confirmed his words. It grieves me that I could not even bring away his body. That, however, is a part of the fortune of pioneers, and as no man ever yet has heard me whine, I do not intend to begin now. But my brother's death is a source of very heavy sorrow to me."
"Do you think the Indians are planning another attack?"
"Not right away. I suspect that they are trying to attack or capture me. Their anger against the settlement doubtless is as keen as ever, but they look upon me as one who has deserted their tribe. Some day they will find me. But I haveone consolation, and that is that they will not find me unprepared."
The words of the scout concerning the further attacks by the Indians were confirmed during the year that followed. The little settlement at Boonesborough steadily increased in numbers and prosperity. For a time, free from the attacks of the Indians, the families toiled in their fields. More extensive clearings were made and in the marvellously fertile soil the crops were bountiful. There were many new homes established in the community, too, for among the continually arriving settlers were many young women.
In the quiet labours on his clearing Boone found peace and comfort such as he seldom had enjoyed. Peleg, who had secured some land adjoining the farm of his friend, worked with the scout and Israel, and as they assisted one another both places steadily improved.
The feeling of Boone, however, that he was still an object of hatred among the Shawnees was confirmed repeatedly. His most critical experience came one day when, all unknown to the scout, four athletic Shawnees were detailed by Blackfish to approach the settlement without arousing any suspicions of their presence, watch the movements of the scout, and either bring him back to the tribe or bring his scalp.
On his farm the scout had erected, not far from his cabin, a little house in which he dried the tobacco he cultivated. The little building stood in the midst of his tobacco patch. Within the house there were three tiers of timber from which the tobacco leaves were hanging to dry.
Boone and Peleg were busily engaged here one autumn day, almost unmindful of peril, the younger scout believing that the fears of his friend were without foundation.
"The tobacco on this lower tier," said Boone after he had made a careful investigation, "seems to be entirely dry."
"Then we had better change the sticks to the tier above," responded Peleg. "That will leave plenty of room for the leaves we have not brought in as yet."
"That's a good suggestion," answered Boone, and together the two scouts began to transfer the sticks from the lower to the second tier.
Peleg departed from the building to bring in more of the tobacco leaves and left Boone standing on the poles that separated the upper tiers.
Suddenly as the scout glanced below him he saw four Shawnee warriors stealthily enter through the door and laugh as they looked up to him.
"You no get away some more," said one of them whom Boone recognized as Owaneeyo, "We takeyou to Chillicothe this time. You no cheat us some more."
Every one of the savages was armed and looking up into Boone's face, while the direction in which the guns were aimed added force to this declaration.
Not for a moment losing his self-control, and aware that he was in the greatest peril of his life, Boone's careful preparation now showed its value. "Ah!" said he quietly. "Glad to see you, my friends. How have you been this long time?"
"Been heap mad," said Owaneeyo, frowning in a manner which betrayed his rising anger. "You come down."
"I shall be very glad to go with you, my friends. Tell me, how is Blackfish these days?"
"You come down!" repeated Owaneeyo.
"I just told you," said Boone, "that I shall be glad to come down. I prefer, however, to have you wait until I finish with my tobacco." In the hunter's heart there was hope that Peleg would discover his predicament and bring him aid before he should be seized by the angry warriors.
"Make yourselves comfortable," continued Boone pleasantly. "You see I cannot get down from here and I cannot get away from you." The scout paused a moment and glanced at his would-be captors.
"You like tobacco?" he resumed. "When I have this cured I will give some of it to you and we will smoke together."
The Indians were becoming impatient, and plainly were unaware of what the scout was doing. Continuing his conversation and making more inquiries concerning his friends in the Indian town, he did his utmost to hold the attention of his dangerous visitors while he gathered together some armfuls of tobacco.
Carefully arranging the bundles of the dry tobacco between the poles and standing where he was able to look directly down into the faces of his enemies, Boone suddenly cut the strings by which the sticks of tobacco were held. At the same moment, with his arms full of the dried leaves, he leaped down upon the Indians, and instantly filled their mouths and eyes with dry tobacco dust. The Shawnees were blinded and well-nigh suffocated in the little tobacco house. There were sneezes and shouts and cries from the startled warriors, who now were unable to see even the direction in which the door was located.
Darting from the little house, the scout made his escape and ran swiftly to his cabin. In a moment he seized his trusty rifle, but as he returned to the tobacco house he saw the Indians running blindly and staggering toward the woods.
Boone restrained his impulse to fire upon the fleeing warriors, and called to Peleg and Israel, who with several of the younger members of the settlement were now hurriedly approaching, all of them prepared to pursue the departing Shawnees.
"Do not go after them!" called Boone.
Reluctantly the young men halted, and Peleg said: "Why do you not want us to chase them? We might have had every one of them."
"If the Shawnees do not go on the warpath, why should we?"
"They were on the warpath for you!" said Israel. "It was lucky you got away."
Boone laughed silently as he recalled the appearance of the Indians when he had thrown the tobacco dust into their faces. "I am sure," he said, "the Shawnees will remember what I said to them and how they were treated by me. Perhaps it will do more good than it will to shoot them."
The months passed and the peace of the settlement remained unbroken. Few even suspected the terrible struggle which was awaiting them.
The game in the forest was becoming somewhat scarce. The settlers, increasing steadily in numbers, now were scattered from the Kentucky River to the Ohio. It was commonly believed that the Indians had finally accepted the coming of thewhites as inevitable, and no longer were ready to dispute their occupation of the western forests.
The one marked exception was Daniel Boone. To all the assertions of his friends he replied by expressing his own conviction that the red men were simply biding their time. No one was more familiar with the Indian ways and thoughts than the scout and he was positive that they had not forgotten the injuries which they had sustained at the hands of the whites. Sooner or later they would strive to obtain vengeance and at the same time unite in a supreme endeavour to drive the hated people from the lands which they believed to be their own.
"I am more convinced than ever that trouble is brewing," said Boone one day to Peleg and Israel, who now were his frequent companions. "I know Simon Girty, and a worse man never lived. He is a renegade and a traitor. He has given up living among the whites, and in everything but colour and in their better qualities he has become an Indian. I am sure that we shall hear from him before many months have passed."
Little the great scout dreamed that even while he was expressing his opinion to the boys, runners at that very time had been sent by Simon Girty to many of the northwestern tribes, urging them all to lay aside the jealousy they felt for one anotherand unite in one common cause against the white invaders.
The following spring the storm burst. As the pattering raindrops sometimes fall at the beginning of a downpour, so among the scattered settlements a renewal of attacks by prowling bands of Indians indicated what was to follow.
One day when Daniel Boone returned to his home he was unusually cast down. He explained that he had just learned of an attack which a party of twenty-five Wyandottes had made upon Estill's Station. The warriors had stolen into a little cabin which was apart from the others in the settlement. They had seized the occupants—a woman and her two daughters—and tomahawked and scalped all three. The bodies were still warm when they were discovered upon the floor of the cabin by neighbours. The scout told what followed.
"Immediately Captain Estill collected a band of twenty-five daring men and followed the Indians more swiftly than I followed the band which took Jemima prisoner. The Wyandottes at first seemed to be frightened and began to run, but at last they made a stand on one side of a creek, while the whites were on the other. They were not more than fifty yards apart and every man was sheltered behind a tree or rock and firing at any enemy thatcould be seen. Captain Estill had lost one third of his men and had shot about as many of the Indians, but the braves were still returning his fire, and showed no signs of leaving. He thought if he should keep up that kind of a fight, every one at last would be killed, unless perhaps it should be the very last white or Indian.
"Mindful of this, Captain Estill sent out a party of six men, led by Lieutenant Miller, telling them to creep around and attack the Indians on their flank. But the chief was as shrewd as the captain, and as soon as he saw that the fire of the whites was slowing up in front of him, he instantly made a stronger attack upon the men that were left. Jumping into the water, they fell upon the captain and his men, driving them before them and killing a good many. Those who escaped finally got back to the Station, and you can readily see how alarmed the people are."
"What happened to Captain Estill?" inquired Israel, greatly shocked by the story of his father.
"He and eight more of his men were killed, and, besides, four were wounded."
"That's more than half that went out, isn't it?" inquired Peleg.
"Yes," answered Daniel Boone.
The report of the misfortune which had overtaken the men of Estill's Station was speedilysucceeded by another report no less alarming. A band of Indians had crept up to Hoy's Station and there had stolen two little boys.
Quickly Captain Holder gathered a band of seventeen angry men and started in pursuit of the Indians. It was not long before he overtook them, but he and his men were driven back after more than half the party had fallen.
The alarm now became widespread. The success which had attended the plans of the Indians encouraged them to continue their efforts. Sometimes singly, frequently in small parties, they crept close to the settlements and by their stealthy attacks kept the people in continual alarm.
There was no one now to dispute the great scout's prophecy that more serious trouble was to come. Within a few weeks an army of Indians, made up of bands from many of the northwestern tribes and numbering nearly six hundred warriors, began its march from Chillicothe.
The renegade Girty was in command. The little army moved with great caution, and their approach was unsuspected by the whites. One August night they arrived at Bryant's Station, surrounded it, and prepared to dash upon the unsuspecting people the moment the gates should be opened the following morning.
The fort at Bryant's Station was for the protection of forty cabins placed in parallel lines upon a little hill on the bank of the Elkhorn River.
All through the night the garrison had been preparing as soon as daylight came to depart from the fort to carry aid to the men at Hoy's Station. A messenger had brought word to Bryant's Station of the defeat which almost had overwhelmed Holder and his men. If Girty's band of six hundred Indians had arrived a few hours later they would have found in the fort only a few women and children, besides a small number of old men, unable to fight.
Afterward it was learned that the Indians were listening all through the night to the sounds of the activities within the fort, and when they saw the lights gleaming from the blockhouse and the cabins they must have suspected that news of their coming already had been received by the inmates.
However, they made no attempt to steal upon the fort in the darkness, although Girty and the Indian chiefs were planning and arranging their attack for the following day.
For some strange reason many of the forts on the border had been built at a considerable distance from the springs upon which the people depended for their water. The fort at Bryant's Station was no exception.
By Girty's direction many of the Indians placed themselves in hiding, within shot of the spring. One hundred selected warriors also were stationed at a distance from the spring. The latter were ordered to open a sharp fire and make their presence known to the garrison. Doubtless the hope of the red men was that the actions of this party would draw the white defenders from their place of safety.
If their plan succeeded Girty then expected that the other band of warriors instantly would rush upon the opposite gate of the fort and hew it down with their tomahawks while the men were chasing the little decoy force. In this manner all the leaders of the attacking force expected to make their way into the little cabins within the stockade.
When daybreak came the garrison was almost ready to open the gates and march to the assistance of their friends at Hoy's Station.
Suddenly there was a furious and continued discharge of rifles accompanied by such hideous yells and screams and whoops that they terrified not only the women and children of Bryant's Station, but alarmed even the men, accustomed though they were to the methods of Indian warfare.
Running to the stockade and peering out through the loopholes, the startled white men saw before them a small band of Indians. These warriors were plainly exposed, yelling and making the most insulting and furious gestures toward the fort.
All this was so different from their usual custom that some of the older men of the fort warned their comrades that a trick of some kind was being played upon them.
"It is a decoy party," said one of the men positively. "They will draw you out of the fort and before you know it you will find yourselves surrounded by more than a hundred of those howling savages."
"That is right" said another. "My suggestion is that we all make for the other side of the fort. I believe the Indians are trying to draw us out on this side and then attack us on the other."
The experiences which many already had had with the Indians of the border confirmed the impression made by the words of the last speaker.Even the younger men, who were eager to sally forth and attack the young warriors that were making such a commotion, were held back by the suggestion.
"We cannot protect ourselves very long in the fort," said one of the men when the defenders had been divided into two bands.
"Why not?" inquired another.
"Because we have no water. There is not enough water in the fort to last us thirty hours."
"What can we do?" inquired one of the older men after a tense silence had followed the statement of the speaker. "If we go down to the spring the Indians will pick us off, every one."
"Send the women," suggested another. "They go to the spring every morning. The Indians may not think we have any suspicion of what they are planning to do. If the women and girls go to the spring for water just as they usually do the Indians will not fire at them. They will want to save all their bullets for their attack on this side when our men have been drawn out to chase the savages who are yelling now on the other side."
"It seems cowardly," said another man "to ask the women to go down to the spring when we know it would be sure death for us to go."
"It will not be sure death for the women, and my opinion is that not one of them will be harmed,"said the first speaker positively. "At all events we can ask them to go and let them say whether they will or not."
When the proposition was made to the women there were some who made replies not unlike those which their male defenders had suggested in the council. Some of them said: "If the men were afraid that they might be shot, why should they ask the women to go in their place?" Then it was explained just why the request was made. Immediately some of the bolder women and girls, taking their buckets, opened the gates and started toward the spring, which was only a short distance from the fort.
Frightened, the women undoubtedly were, and with good reason. But with unbroken lines they continued on their way to the spring. One by one they knelt and filled their buckets and then joined the line which was returning to the fort.
When the matrons and maids had arrived within a few yards of the open gate their terror became so overpowering that they all began to run for the shelter. Many a dusky face had been seen on the borders of the forest, but not a shot was fired at the bold girls and the women of Bryant's Station when they brought the water from the spring to the inmates of the fort.
"Now is our time," said one of the men, after thereturn of the women. "We ought to do two things: First we must get some one out of the fort to carry word to Boone of the trouble we are having."
"And second?" inquired one of the company.
"We must send out some of the younger men to attack that decoy party."
"That's right," suggested one of the young men eagerly. "We must go out and make all the noise we can. Then all the other men here in the fort can be ready for Girty when he comes, and I know he will come."
"I will carry the message to Boone," volunteered one of the younger men named Bell. It was arranged that he should depart with the young men who were to attack the decoy party, and then instead of returning to the fort he should make a dash into the forest and try to make his way to Boonesborough as speedily as possible.
The men in the fort were all serious when they saw thirteen of their younger companions depart from the fort through the gate which opened toward the place where the decoy party had been seen.
"Do not chase the varmints too far," charged one of the watching men.
No response was given to the warning, and as soon as the hardy, young settlers had departed the gate was closed and the remaining men, cocking their guns, took their positions to await the resultof the expected attack as soon as it should be unmasked.
It was not long before the report of rifles was heard from the distant road, and gradually the sound indicated that the men were being decoyed farther and farther from the fort.
"Girty will order an attack on us soon, now that the boys have made so much noise," suggested one of the waiting defenders.
Scarcely had the man spoken when Simon Girty, springing from the forest at the head of five hundred of his painted warriors, rushed upon the western gate of the fort. It was plain that they were trying to force their way over the undefended palisade.
The men of the Station had been carefully arranged in small divisions; and at the word from their leaders they fired upon the approaching warriors. The determination of the white men and their anxiety for their wives and children served to steady the nerve of every man and make of him a sharpshooter.
The consternation of Girty's army cannot be described. Startled by the unexpected resistance and beholding their comrades falling on every side of them, with wild cries of anger and dismay the painted braves scattered, and in confusion all ran back into the sheltering forest.
Two minutes after the sally not an Indian was to be seen, and the party of thirteen young settlers returned to the shelter of the fort.
Every defender of Bryant's Station, however, was aware that this was but the beginning of the siege. The attack now was undertaken more in accordance with the usual methods of Indian warfare. From behind trees or protected by rocks the red men fired upon the defenders whenever any one showed himself. And the men of Bryant's Station were replying to the attack in kind. Not much time had elapsed before it was plain that this method of warfare was without marked effect on either party.
By the middle of the afternoon, however, a sudden change occurred which instantly altered the entire combat. The cause of this change was due to the messenger who had been sent from Bryant's Station as soon as the discovery of the Indians had been made. Upon the fleetest horse in the settlement young Bell had succeeded in making his way to Lexington, with news of the dire need of help at Bryant's Station.
The messenger, however, was keenly disappointed when he found only the women and children and a few old men in the place. He was informed that the able-bodied men had all marched to the rendezvous at Hoy's Station as soon as the knowledge of Holder's defeat had been received.
Following the direction in which he had been informed the fighting band had gone, it was not long before Bell overtook them and gave them his message.
In the band were sixteen mounted men and more than twice that number of men on foot. As they set forth in response to Bell's appeal, their courage was strengthened by the report of the coming of a force of men from Boone's Station, among whom were Peleg, Israel, and the great scout himself.
At a good pace the band was moving steadily over the rough roadway that led to Bryant's Station. The men were silent for the most part, for they had serious work before them. What a siege by five hundred Indians was likely to be, led by such a man as Simon Girty, required no description. The mounted men, however, preceding the men on foot, found little on their way to indicate the peril of their friends.
It was late summer now, and already some of the leaves of the forest were tinged with the colours of autumn. The song of a bird was seldom heard, although the locusts were noisily announcing their presence in the treetops.
As the advancing men came nearer the end of their journey their precautions increased. The men on horseback still led, but were closer to their comrades than in the earlier part of the journey. The information which the courier had brought had been so meagre that the exact location of Girty's band of warriors was not known. Bell hadreported only that Bryant's Station was besieged and that Girty was the leader of the howling horde of savages.
Bryant's Station was less than a mile and a half distant. The advancing men were in a bend in the road, on one side of which stretched the primeval forest, while on the other one hundred or more acres had been cleared and planted to corn. The stalks of corn were higher than the head of the tallest man in the band.
"Come on!" called Peleg to Israel and his friends. "Let the men who are riding go around by the road and we'll cut across lots through this cornfield."
The suggestion at once was acted upon, and the men on foot, among whom were most of the boys and younger men in the rescuing party, ran into the cornfield where they were soon concealed from the sight of their companions. Around them the stalks were standing so high that it would have been an easy matter for one not accustomed to such places to lose his way.
Meanwhile, the mounted men continued on their way. It was unknown to them, as it was also to their companions in the cornfield, that the keen-eyed Indians had been aware of the departure of the courier from Bryant's Station. Indeed, it was suspected afterward that intentionally thered men had permitted him to proceed through their lines. All the warriors apparently were eager for the messenger to return and bring the men who doubtless would respond to his appeal.
Consequently, when the mounted men drew near the forest opposite the cornfield, they had no information or even suspicion that Girty's warriors, concealed behind the trunks of the great trees, were awaiting their coming. Steadily advancing, the horsemen soon were drawing near the place where the ambuscade had been formed.
Meanwhile, Peleg and Israel, in advance of their comrades, had been moving through the cornfield. They had arrived at a point which they thought must be midway in the great field, when at the sound of a gun both young pioneers stopped short, and Israel seized Peleg's arm as his face became pale and he said, "What has happened?"
There was slight need for Peleg to reply to the startling question. On the August air arose the reports of many rifles and the terrifying whoops of the Indians.
It was impossible for the men in the cornfield to see what was occurring in the road. They were aware of the attack, of course, and there was slight doubt in the mind of any that the entrance of the men on foot into the cornfield had been seen by their watching enemies.
"Keep close to me," said Peleg to his companion. "It is every man for himself, now, but I want you to stay by me. We will take our chances that way."
Peleg started when a whoop wilder and fiercer than any that had preceded it came from the bend in the road.
"I wonder if they got every man," whispered Israel, his voice trembling in his excitement. "I do not believe one of our men suspected there was any danger here. Not even my father spoke of it."
"Your father does not always speak of his fears. If it is possible for any one to get away I am sure your father will be safe."
"What's that?" whispered Israel sharply. From the sounds it was evident that some at least of the mounted men were fleeing from the place. The shots of the Indians were plainly heard, and it was clear that they were following the fugitives. Perhaps a few had contrived to force their way around the bend.
The two anxious young settlers, however, soon were recalled to the perils of their own position. Suddenly, not far to their right, they heard a rustling sound, as of the furtive approach of some one moving through the standing corn.
"Drop!" whispered Peleg. "Don't move! Do not say a word!"
The two boys cast themselves upon the ground, each holding his rifle in readiness for instant use. The sound of some one moving in the midst of the corn might indicate the presence of an enemy or of a friend, and until the anxious boys could determine which was near, they remained motionless.
All at once the silence which had continued for moments was broken by whoops nearby, and the reports of rifles from within the field. Both boys were startled when each looked into the other's face and found his suspicions confirmed. The Indians were aware of the presence of the settlers in the cornfield and were stealthily entering from every side of the field at the same time. Already some of the unfortunate settlers had been found and their fate had been sealed. The summer stillness was broken by the wild whoops which indicated the success of some warrior in bringing his victim to the ground. There were also calls and cries from the wounded, mingled with the frequent reports of the rifles.
The standing corn, a few yards in advance of the place where Peleg and Israel were lying, now suddenly was drawn apart and the boys saw three painted Shawnee warriors in single file stealthily making their way between the tall stalks.
They concluded that discovery was not to be avoided, and after Peleg had whispered to hiscompanion to follow his example, one after the other the boys raised their rifles and fired upon their enemies.
Aware that one and perhaps two of the approaching red men had fallen and that the third warrior had darted rapidly away at the discharge of the guns, both boys sprang to their feet, and, crouching low, began to run through the corn.
Both were too experienced to lose their way easily, and not many minutes had elapsed before Peleg, without speaking, laid his hand warningly on his friend's shoulder. Instantly both stopped and listened.
Peleg believed that they had arrived near the border of the field. He was fearful now that reserves had been stationed so that from whatever side the unfortunate settlers might attempt to escape they would be met by the bullets of the watching warriors. Both boys listened intently until several minutes had elapsed.
"We had better separate here," whispered Israel. Peleg hesitated a moment and then quietly nodded his assent. The possibility of escape, slight as it was, would be increased if they proceeded singly rather than together.
"You know the way to the Station?" whispered Peleg. Israel nodded his head, and, moving to a place twenty feet to his left, turned, and in a courseparallel to the one Peleg was following, cautiously continued on his way toward the border of the field.
When Peleg came near to the edge of the field he stopped once more and peered cautiously all about him, listening for sounds that might indicate the presence of his enemies. From behind him still were heard the shouts and shrieks that were mingled with the reports of the guns and the whoops of the excited Indians.
Somehow, in spite of his peril, the beat of the young settler's heart seemed to be almost normal. He watched a little field mouse that fearlessly peered up at him from the ground. He even counted the swings of a spider making her web between the swaying branches of an enormous stalk of corn.
Apparently the fighting was confined to the farther side of the field. Only infrequent sounds of the conflict were heard at his right and left, while from the region before him there had been almost no sounds of conflict at all.
Was the border in front of him unguarded? Or was it doubly dangerous because the Indians were attempting from the other three sides to drive the unfortunate men into a trap?
Stealthily Peleg still crept forward. After each step he paused and looked keenly about him as helistened for sounds which might indicate renewed peril. He had seen nothing of Israel since his friend had left him.
Suddenly he was startled to hear what evidently were the sounds of a struggle between two men nearby. The laboured breathing and an occasional exclamation which he heard alike convinced him of this. With increasing anxiety Peleg crept forward.
He was not molested when he came to the end of the row, but before him he saw a contest which threatened to terminate speedily as well as fatally for Israel Boone.
The son of the great scout was in the hands of a white man, and was struggling desperately. His contestant, however, plainly was much the stronger. Peleg saw the face of the man distinctly, and he assured himself that never before had he looked upon so villainous a countenance. The man's face was distorted and discoloured by his efforts, and the perspiration streamed down his cheeks leaving furrows behind it. In spite of his excitement, Peleg asked himself if the man's face had ever been washed. The necessity for quick action, if his friend was to be rescued, caused Peleg instantly to raise his rifle to his shoulder and fire.
Israel's contestant dropped to the ground as Peleg had seen an ox collapse from the blow of an axe.
Instantly darting to the side of his friend, Peleg whispered, "Come!"
"That is Simon Girty!" gasped Israel, looking down into the face of the fallen man before him.
Startled as Peleg was by the words of his companion, he did not wait to verify them, but turned back at once into the cornfield. As soon as he had gone a short distance, bidding Israel follow him, he turned to his left, and, still running swiftly and silently, the boys advanced a hundred yards; they then turned abruptly to their right in the direction of the side of the field where they had first entered. Although mystified by the action of his companion, Israel did not protest as he followed Peleg in his flight.
Again turning to his left, Peleg, still followed by his friend, ran swiftly toward the border of the cornfield.
The cries and whoops in a measure had died away, and from what he could hear Peleg concluded that some of his friends had escaped from the field and were being pursued in their flight toward the fort.
When Peleg and Israel found they were near the road, on the opposite side of which stood the forest where the Indians had made their ambuscade, they peered cautiously in all directions, but were unable to see any of their enemies. That another band of warriors had followed in pursuit of the men who had escaped from the first attack and from the fight in the cornfield was most likely, they concluded.
Peleg whispered: "The safest place for us is where the Indians were hidden. They have gone from there and will not come back to look for any of us."
Israel nodded his head in assent, and, firmly grasping their rifles, the boys darted across the road and gained the shelter of the trees. When the two young scouts were convinced that their immediate presence had not been discovered, Peleg said to Israel: "Are you sure you can find your way if we again separate?"
"Yes," answered Israel. "But the Indians are between us and the fort. Do you think we can ever get through?"
"We must," said Peleg. "The folk at Bryant's Station are in such danger that not one of us must fail them now."
The words hardly had been spoken when there was a sharp report of a rifle, and a bullet passed so near them that both boys heard it singing on its way.
Moved by a common impulse, they turned and dashed into the forest. Whether or no any of their enemies were hiding behind the trees toward which they were running neither knew.
They were chiefly intent upon speed now, and ran on for several minutes, well knowing that their lives depended upon the success of their efforts.
At last, breathless, both halted for a rest, and Peleg said to his companion, "I am sure it will be better for us to separate now. You know the way, and can look out for yourself. I shall come, too,and if we succeed In getting through, it had better be before night."
"Yes," assented Israel. "If we wait until dark and then creep up to the fort, the guards will be likely to fire upon us, mistaking us for Indians."
With these words Israel departed. Peleg watched his friend as long as he remained within sight, and then began with caution to retrace the way over which they had come. Keeping a firm grip upon Singing Susan, Peleg darted from tree to tree and did not venture from each refuge until he was convinced that no one was near him.
His attempt to proceed was interrupted, however, by the report of a rifle, and again a bullet whistled uncomfortably close to his head, tearing some splinters from the tree at his elbow. The young scout at his utmost speed darted into the wood at his right.
He was aware that a swift flight could not long be maintained because of his recent exertions. Where a refuge might be found he did not know. But just then he noticed the trunk of what appeared to be a huge hollow tree leaning over a shallow brook, across which he must leap if he continued his flight.
He entered the stream, ran swiftly a few steps with the current, and then retraced his way to the tree. It was but the work of a moment for himto climb to the broken top, and great was his relief when he saw that the tree indeed was hollow. Without thought of where he might fall he dropped into the welcome opening.
He fell several feet before the decayed wood provided a foothold strong enough to enable him to stand. Fortunately the hollow of the tree was larger than his body, and although he was cramped and almost blinded by the decayed mass, he nevertheless managed to reach his hunting-knife, and, making a small opening through the soft wood, peeped out to see if his enemies were within sight. As he did so his fears were aroused that the tree itself might fall. It was a mere shell and so decayed that he was surprised that his descent had not torn it asunder.
At that moment a wild cry, plainly from the road, came to his ears. Then shouts were followed by the reports of guns and answering whoops from the Indians.
Anxious for his friend Israel, Peleg turned once more to ascertain if any of his enemies were near his hiding-place. He was hopeful that his trail could not be followed farther than the bank of the little brook, although he was sufficiently familiar with Indian ways to know that the red men, if they really were pursuing him, would run in either direction along the banks until they found theplace where he had left the water. He smiled as he recalled how he had been standing in the stream when he had thrown his arms around the trunk of the bending tree. Singing Susan was still held, but it would be impossible for him in his cramped position to make use of her musical voice.
Suddenly Peleg was startled to behold an Indian step forth from the forest and stand for a moment on the bank of the stream almost directly beneath him. His surprise increased when he recognized the warrior as Henry. He had believed that the white Shawnee, as Henry had loved to call himself, had been killed in the attack on Boonesborough. His brave deed in extinguishing the fire that had been kindled by the burning arrow had been followed, as Peleg and others had believed, by his death. At least every one had seen him fall from the roof and roll to the ground. It is true, his body had not been recovered, but there were other bodies which had similarly disappeared.
When his first feeling of astonishment had passed and Peleg was convinced that it indeed was Henry who was beneath him, a feeling of intense anger swept over the young settler. Henry was white, and yet had renounced his allegiance to his own people and gone back to the Shawnees, and with them he was now making war upon his own nation! There was little in his present appearanceto distinguish him from other braves of the tribe. He wore the scalp-lock and was clad in the Indian garb.
Peleg's problem in part was solved when at that moment the rotten wood gave way beneath him, and the tree, unable longer to support the weight of the young scout, fell with a crash to the ground. As it struck the bank the tree was rent asunder, and to the white Shawnee's astonishment Peleg scrambled to his feet from out of the wreckage.
Before he could brush the dust from his eyes and bring Singing Susan to his shoulder Henry leaped forward and placed both hands upon the barrel of the rifle, saying, "No shoot broder."
"You are no brother of mine!" said Peleg. "You are a Shawnee and not a white Shawnee, either! You are fighting us!"
"No fight broder," repeated Henry. "Broder show way to fort."
For some strange reason which Peleg was unable to explain even to himself, he said abruptly: "Lead the way, then! If you can take me safely through the line of these savages, I shall never forget you."
The young scout was eager to inquire of his companion what had befallen him and why he had returned to the Shawnees. His present peril, however, was so great that he restrained hisimpulse, and in silence followed Henry as he led the way toward Bryant's Station.
Occasionally a halt was made when from some nearby place shots were heard indicating that the scattered settlers were being pursued either in small detachments or individually, for the terrified men had scattered when first the ambuscade had been discovered.
When Henry, who apparently was aware of the location of the besieging braves, drew near the fort he stopped and said: "Now go."
Peleg looked about him, and, unable to discover any of his enemies nearby, followed the advice which had been given him, and, placing his hat on the end of the barrel of Singing Susan as a token of his peaceful intentions, approached the gate.
He was at once admitted, and his relief was great when the first to greet him was Israel Boone.
"How many are here?" asked Peleg.
"I do not know," answered Israel. "I have heard that only six of our men were killed or wounded. When we all started toward Lexington they might have chased us all the way and taken the fort there, because there was nobody left to fight for it."
"How many Indians were in that ambuscade?" asked Peleg.
"I hear there were three hundred."
"How did you get to the fort?"
"I ran straight ahead for an hour," replied Israel with a smile. "How did you come?"
"Henry got me through the lines."
"Henry!" demanded Israel in surprise. "Henry! I thought he was dead."
"So did I, but he is very much alive. I had no time to ask him how he came to be here. I was thinking mostly of getting inside the fort."
"It is a comfort to know that at least Girty will not lead any more——"
Israel stopped speaking as a lusty shout was heard from a stump that stood near one of the bastions, and the two young defenders to their amazement beheld Simon Girty himself standing erect upon the stump and waving a cloth which at some time in its history may have been white.
In response to this hail every man ran to hear what the renegade leader of the Indians had to say.
They were soon to know the purpose for which Girty, on his hands and knees, had crept to the place where he now was standing.
"What do you want?" shouted one of the defenders.
"I have come," replied Girty in a loud voice, "to save your lives. We have more than six hundred warriors here, and by to-morrow we shall have more. Some of our friends will bring cannon,and when we have them we can blow every cabin in Bryant's Station into flinders. If we storm your fort, as we sure can do when we get our cannon, I will not promise that one life will be spared. You know the redskins well enough to understand how I shall not be able to hold them back. If you surrender now, I give you my word of honour that not a hair of the head of any one of you shall be hurt. I am Simon Girty, and you know you can rely upon every word I speak."
A derisive cry from several of the defenders greeted this assertion, but when Peleg and Israel looked about them they were aware that many of the men had been strongly moved by Girty's appeal.
Before any conference of the defenders could be held, one of the younger men leaped to the wall to reply to Girty's plea.
"You know who I am, don't you?" called Girty.
"Indeed I do know!" shouted young Reynolds: "Everybody south of the Falls of Ohio knows that you are Simon Girty. I have a good-for-nothing cur dog which I have named Simon Girty, or Simon Dirty, he looks so much like you. If you have any reinforcements or artillery, bring them up! But let me warn you that if you or any of those naked rascals with you ever get into this fort we shall not use our guns upon them. We have no powder to waste on such wretches. We have cut some big bunches of birch switches and have scattered them all through the fort; and that is just what we cut them for—to thrash you and your rascally comrades. And let me tell you," he continued, "that you are not the only ones who are expecting reinforcements! We have received word that the whole country is aroused and marching to help us, Simon Girty!"he shouted. "If you and your gang of murderers stay twenty-four hours longer before the fort you will never be able to leave. Your scalps will be drying in the sun on the roofs of our cabins."
A loud laugh from his friends greeted the words of the young backwoods orator, and it was plain that the spirit which young Reynolds had displayed had aroused the drooping courage of his companions. Many of the men were aware that on more than one occasion the Indians had indeed brought cannon with them, and by their aid had succeeded in destroying two of the stations.
All became silent when Simon Girty once more stood up to reply. "It is too bad," began the renegade, "it's a pity that such people should be tomahawked and scalped! I can protect you now, if you will surrender, but I give you fair warning if you do not I shall not be able to hold back my warriors."
A derisive shout greeted this declaration, and in apparent sorrow Simon Girty at once withdrew.
It was not known within the fort that he instantly ordered preparations to be made for raising the siege. Throughout the night not a sound was heard, and when daylight came the Indian camp was deserted!
When Peleg and Israel sought the place where the warriors had encamped they found the firesstill burning brightly and even pieces of meat left on the roasting-sticks.
"You see!" said Israel gleefully. "They left just a little while before daylight."
"Yes," said Peleg, "that is when they usually roast their meat. I wonder if they are all really gone?"
The rejoicing at Bryant's Station was great when it was known that the Indians had departed. Before noon the fighting force of white men was increased to one hundred and sixty-seven. Among those who entered came Daniel Boone, or Colonel Boone as some now called him, since he had received his commission from Colonel Clark.
"What does this mean?" demanded Israel when he saw his younger brother Daniel among the men in the assembly, "What are you doing here?"
"I think I have as good a right to come as you," retorted Boone's younger son. "I am almost seventeen."
"And old enough to know better," laughed Peleg, who was fond of the boy and many a time had taken him with him on his expeditions into the forest.
The officers, who had hastened to the place as soon as reports of its peril had been brought, now assembled, and at once called the men of Bryant's Station to a conference.
"It is known," explained Colonel Todd, "that Colonel Logan has collected a strong force in Lincoln and that it will be here within twenty-four hours. If we wait for his coming we shall be that much stronger when we start in pursuit of Girty and his savages. What do you think?" he asked, addressing Boone, who stood leaning upon his rifle in the rear of the assembly.
"It will be wise to wait," replied Boone quietly. "I have never found it to be a mistake to get ready before you attempt to do anything. Girty, according to his story, has treble our numbers. The trail which the Shawnees have left behind is so plain and so broad that I am suspicious that they have made signs which they hope will lead us to pursue them. My advice is to wait until Colonel Logan shall come with his men."
The younger members of the force, however, were unwilling to delay. To them appearances were convincing that the Indians had fled because they were alarmed. Now was the time, they declared, when the savages ought to be chased and taught a lesson! If there should be a delay even of a day in following them, the Indians would gain such an advance that they could not be overtaken and punished for their evil deeds.
The fiery zeal of the young men was not to be denied. Against the counsel of Boone and othersof the older scouts, who had long experience in dealing with their Indian enemies, a swift pursuit instantly was begun. Many of the men were mounted on horses, but the entire mass, horse and foot, kept well together.
The eager party had not gone far from Bryant's Station before a halt was called, when it was discovered that the retiring Indians had turned into the buffalo road and, almost as if they were attempting to make their trail still more evident, it was noticed that they had chopped many of the trees, on either side with their hatchets.
Boone shook his head when he discovered these indications of apparent carelessness in the band they were following.
"My opinion is," he said soberly to Colonel Todd, "that Girty is trying to lead us on. Just as our men ran into their trap on the way to Bryant's Station, I am afraid now that they will be led into another."
"But it is too late to go back," said Colonel Todd.
"Yes, I am afraid our men will not go back now. My only word of advice to you is to go ahead cautiously."
"Will you be one of the advance guard?"
"If you so desire."
"At least you are not afraid, and you will not see what is not there."
"I shall do my best," said Boone quietly.
As Peleg, who was standing nearby and had heard the conversation, looked into the face of his friend he became aware that the years of anxiety had left their mark upon his rugged countenance. There was, however, a deeper expression of gentleness on the face of the great scout which in no way detracted from the impression of strength which his entire body still produced.
Orders were soon given to camp for the night in the forest, and on the following day the little army arrived at the Lower Blue Licks. Just as the force, proceeding without any form of order, arrived at the southern bank of the Licking, some of the men saw several Indians climbing the rocky ridge on the opposite side. The red men halted when the Kentuckians appeared, looked at them intently a few minutes in silence, and then, as calmly and leisurely as if no enemies were near, disappeared over the top of the hill.
A halt of the white men was made at once, and several of the officers held a consultation.
Apparently there were differences of opinion among the leaders, for after a few minutes had elapsed Colonel Todd summoned Daniel Boone and inquired his opinion as to what had best be done. All the officers were now very serious.
The great scout, leaning upon his rifle, spoke inthe deep, quiet tones he usually used: "My opinion is that our situation is critical and difficult. The force before us without question is ready for battle and outnumbers us largely."
"Why do you think that?" inquired Colonel Todd.
"Because of the easy and slow retreat of the Indians who just went over the crest of yonder hill. I am familiar with all this region and I am fearful they are trying to draw us on. About a mile ahead of us there are two ravines, one on either side of the ridge. There the Indians can hide and attack us at the same time, both in front and on our flanks, almost before we could know they were there."
"What do you think is the best thing to do, then?" inquired Colonel Todd seriously.
"My advice," said Boone, "is to do one of two things: Either wait for the coming of Colonel Logan, who without doubt is on his way to join us; or, if it is decided to attack the Indians without waiting for him to come up, then my advice is that half our force ought to go up the river, cross the rapids, and fall upon the Indians from that side at the same time the others attack them from the front."
"I am afraid that cannot be done," said Colonel Todd, shaking his head.
"Whatever is done," said Boone quietly, "my advice to you is to go over the ground carefully before the men cross the river here. Send some scouts ahead. I have never found, Colonel Todd, that any man lost by being prepared for what might befall him."
Every man in the little assembly was listening with deep attention to the great scout who was a man of silence unless his advice was sought.
When he ceased some urged the adoption of his recommendation to wait for the coming of Colonel Logan and his men. There were others, however, who were strongly in favour of advancing at once.
In the midst of the warm discussion Major McGary, one of the young officers who was unable to endure the thought of being near an enemy and not fighting, let out a wild whoop. At the same moment he waved his hand over his head, spurred his horse into the river and then shouted in his loudest tone, "Let all who are not cowards follow me!"
Instantly the mounted men dashed into the river, every one apparently striving to be the first to gain the opposite shore. The men on foot also rushed into the stream, which for a time seemed to be a rolling mass of men and water. No order had been given and no order now was desired. Throughthe deep river horses and men staggered forward, with McGary still leading the way.
They gained the opposite shore where the unprotected nature of the ground seemed to forbid their advance. Trampled by the buffalo, every bush and low tree had been stripped bare. Multitudes of rocks blackened by the sunlight were to be seen on every side. No scouts were sent in advance and none acted on the flanks. The contagious example of Major McGary acted like magic, and men and horses went forward as if every one was doing his utmost to outstrip his neighbour.
Along with the others went Daniel Boone, his two boys, and Peleg. The expression of Boone's face had not changed since his sober advice had been disregarded by his impulsive comrades. But he was not one to draw back when his friends were rushing into action.
Suddenly the men in front halted. They had arrived at the place mentioned by the scout, where the two ravines met. A small body of Indians appeared for a moment and fired at the approaching settlers.
Instantly McGary and the men with him returned the fire, although they were at a great disadvantage because they were standing upon a bare and open ridge, while their enemies were in aravine in which the bushes partly concealed the warriors.
As the reports of the guns were heard, the men in the rear rushed forward to assist their friends. But before they were able to gain the ridge they were stopped by a terrible fire from the ravine which was on their flank. They halted, and it was almost as if they had been shut in by the jaws of some enormous beast. There was no cover, and a terrible fire was being poured into them from front and side, while their enemies still were hidden from sight.
Gradually, however, the Indians pushed out from the ravine as the fire became fiercer. Indeed they were striving to extend their lines and turn the right of the Kentuckians so that their retreat would be cut off.
As soon as this was made clear by the increase of the firing from that quarter, the men in the rear attempted to fall back, and then by breaking through the attacking party, gain their only way of escape—to the river.
Their actions, in part misunderstood by their companions, created what was almost a panic. From the ravine to the river the sight was indescribable. Above the reports of the guns rose the shrieks and cries of the wounded and the wild and merciless whoops of the Indians.
Many of the mounted men escaped, but those who were fighting on foot were in deadly peril. Daniel Boone, in the thick of the fight, saw his boy, Israel, fall lifeless before the guns of the Indians. Even the death of his son, however, did not prevent the great scout from becoming aware that he himself was almost entirely surrounded by the frantic, howling, whooping mob of warriors.