CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER II.Kenton and his Friends Visit Boonesborough—Desperate Encounter with Indians—Proceeds with Two Companions to Reconnoitre an Indian Town on the Little Miami—Captured while Making Off with a Number of Horses—Brutal Treatment—Bound to the Stake and Runs the Gauntlet—Friendship of Simon Girty, the Renegade—Finally Saved by an Indian Trader—Removed to Detroit, and Escapes—Commands a Company in General Clark's Expedition—Receives Good News—Visits Virginia—Death of his Father—Reduced to Poverty—Removes to Urbana, Ohio—Elected Brigadier-General—His Conversion—His Last Days.Simon Kenton and his two friends stayed at Washington until the following September, undisturbed by Indians, though they were never entirely free from apprehension of a visit from them.In the month named they visited the Lick, where they encountered a white man, who told them most important news. The interior of Kentucky had been settled in several places, and there was a thriving pioneer station at Boonesborough.Kenton and his friends were glad to learn this, for they had seen enough of the perils of the woods to long for the society of some of their own race. They immediately left their dangerous home, and, visiting the smaller settlements, made a prolonged stay at Boonesborough, where they were most gladly welcomed. During the two sieges of the place which we have described, Kenton was one ofthe garrison, and served with great efficiency as a spy and scout until the summer of 1778, when Boone came back from captivity and formed the plan for the attack upon the Indians at Paint Creek.This expedition, which has already been referred to elsewhere, proved to be a most eventful one to Kenton, who acted as spy. After crossing the Ohio, he kept a considerable distance in advance, on the alert for the first evidence of Indians.He was suddenly startled by hearing a loud laugh from an adjoining thicket, which he was on the point of entering. Like a flash the scout sprang behind a tree and with cocked rifle awaited the explanation.He had but a few minutes to wait, when two Indians emerged from the thicket, mounted on a pony. Both were laughing and chatting in high spirits, and with no thought of anything like danger. They had been on some marauding expedition against the whites, and had met with such success that they seemed as elated as a couple of children.Kenton held his place until they approached within easy distance, when he took careful aim and fired. The well-aimed shot killed the first and badly wounded the second, while the frightened pony whirled about and dashed into the thicket. Kenton instantly ran up to the slain Indian to scalp him, in accordance with the barbarous practice of the border, when a rustling on his right caused him to look up. To his amazement, there were two Indiansnot twenty yards distant, both of whom were in the act of taking aim at him.The scout sprang aside at the instant both fired, and though the bullets whizzed close to his eyes he was uninjured. There could be no doubt that the neighborhood was a most undesirable one just then, for other warriors were near by, and Kenton lost no time in taking to the shelter of the woods.Fleet as he was, he had no more than reached shelter, when a dozen Indians appeared on the margin of the canebrake and the situation of the scout became most serious; but, at this critical moment, Boone appeared with his party, who opened a brisk fire upon the Indians. The attack was so spirited that they broke and scattered, and Kenton was relieved from his perilous position.Boone, as we have stated elsewhere, immediately returned to Boonesborough, but the intrepid Kenton determined to learn more of the Indians, and if possible to repay them for the attack they had made upon him.Accompanied by a friend named Montgomery, they approached the Indian town not far off, and stationed themselves near a cornfield, expecting the red men would enter it for the purpose of roasting the ears. With that characteristic patience of the border scouts, they stayed beside the cornfield the entire day waiting and watching for a shot at some of the warriors. But during the time not a single one appeared, though the whites could hear the voices of the children playing near at hand.The scouts were greatly disappointed, for they had been confident of seeing some warrior, but night came without such an opportunity having presented itself, and they were forced to ask themselves the question whether they would go back empty handed, so to speak, or whether they would incur some additional risk for the sake of accomplishing something by way of retaliation.As the best they could do, they stealthily entered the Indian town late at night, picked out four good horses, made all haste to the Ohio, which they crossed in safety, and on the succeeding day reached Logan's fort without disturbance.This was an extraordinary achievement, for the Indians and settlers were in such open hostility that it may be said the former were constantly on the alert to prevent just such surprises.Colonel Bowman, at the fort, requested Kenton, Montgomery and a Mr. Clark to undertake a more difficult and dangerous task for him: that was a secret expedition to one of the Indian towns on the Little Miami, against which the Colonel meditated an expedition, and about which, of course, he was desirous of gaining all the information possible.The duty was a congenial one to the three men, who reached the village without discovery, made a careful reconnoissance by night, and were then ready to return home.Well would it have been for them had they done so, but the subsequent conduct of Kenton shows that his repeated escapes and continued immunity at the hands of the savages, had rendered him reckless,and caused him to estimate too highly perhaps his own prowess and skill as compared with theirs.At this time, unfortunately, they discovered an enclosure where the Indians kept their horses. Like all borderers they dearly loved that kind of property, and could not resist the temptation. More than that, instead of selecting the best, they took the whole lot and started for the Ohio.Such a wholesale proceeding created a good deal of confusion despite the care of the three scouts, and the Indians speedily discovered what was going on.They poured out of their wigwams and lodges, in great excitement, all eager to prevent the loss of their property, while the whites showed an equal eagerness to get away with it. Instead of abandoning the animals and attempting to save themselves, they foolishly continued their effort to escape with them all.One rode in front leading the animals, and the other two remained at the rear and lashed them into a gallop, through the woods, while the excited Indians came whooping and shrieking after them.It was a wild, break-neck proceeding, but the scouts kept it up until they reached the edge of an impenetrable swamp, where, for the first time since starting, they came to a stand-still and listened for their pursuers.Not a sound was heard, to indicate they were anywhere in the neighborhood, and the whites congratulated themselves on what looked like a remarkable achievement. But they were certain tobe pursued, and skirting the swamp, they continued their flight in the direction of the Ohio, which was a long way distant.The horses were pressed to the utmost, the riders frequently changing animals, through the night, the next day, and most of the following night. The next morning they stood on the northern bank of the Ohio.The wind was blowing strongly, and the river was so boisterous that the crossing was sure to be difficult. At the same time they knew that their pursuers would not delay, and must be close behind them. A hurried consultation was held, and it was agreed that Kenton should swim the animals over while Montgomery and Clark constructed a raft to transport the baggage.Accordingly Kenton led the animals into the river, while he swam at their side, but the stream had become so rough that he was forced away from them, and all he could do was to save himself from drowning. The horses being left to themselves turned about and swam back to the shore they had left a short time before.This exasperating performance was repeated until Kenton became so exhausted that he was forced to lie down on the shore until he could recover his strength and wind.A council of war, as it might be called, was then held and the question considered was whether they should abandon the animals and attend to their own safety, or risk their lives by waiting where they were until the Ohio should become calmer, inthe hope of getting them to the other side. Nothing can show the great admiration of the men of the border for the noblest of all animals, than their immediate and unanimous agreement that they would never desert their horses.The scouts committed the inexplainable blunder of staying where they were, knowing, as they must have known, that the infuriated warriors were rapidly coming up on their trail, and could be at no great distance behind them.The wind continued churning the water all through the day, and did not abate until the next morning. Then, when they tried to force the steeds into the water, they refused and some of them broke away. The infatuated scouts lost more valuable time in the vain attempt to recapture them and, as was inevitable, the Indians soon made their appearance.They were in such numbers, and so well armed, that it was useless to fight them, and Clark had sense enough to take to his heels. He succeeded in effecting his own escape. Montgomery was shot down and scalped, while Kenton was seized from behind, when on the very point of assailing a warrior in front, and pinioned. Others speedily gathered, beat and shook the scout, and pulled his hair, until he was tortured almost to death."Steal hoss of Indian, eh!" they exclaimed again and again as they beat him over the head with their ramrods.When they had pounded him until they were tired, Kenton was thrown on his back, and hisarms stretched out at full length. Pieces of saplings were then fastened to his arms and legs in such a manner that the poor fellow was literally unable to stir hand or foot.While thus engaged they continued to beat and curse him in broken English. When he was strapped in his immovable position he was left until morning. No pen can picture the utter horror and misery of such a night, with arm and legs outstretched and with body incapable of any motion excepting a slight turn of the head.It was a literal crucifixion, without the erection of the cross. Knowing the Indians so well, he did not entertain a particle of doubt that he would be put to death with the most fearful torture that can be imagined.The fury of the Indians against Kenton seemed to increase rather than diminish. It would have been a very easy matter to tomahawk or slay him with knife or rifle, when he was so helpless, but that would have ended the matter and deprived them of the enjoyment they counted upon at such times.In the morning they gave a Mazeppa performance, by tying Kenton fast to an unbroken colt and turning him loose. The horse, however, seemed to have more pity than his cruel masters, for after galloping a short distance about the others, he came back and rejoined them, continuing with the others until nightfall, when Kenton was taken off and fastened by buffalo thongs to the stakes of saplings as before.For three days the terrible march continued,when the Indian town of Chillicothe was reached. The arrival of the prisoner created great excitement, and the chief Blackfish beat Kenton over the naked shoulders with hickory sticks until the blood flowed, and the poor fellow was almost delirious with agony.All the cries he heard during this fearful punishment were those of fury. These soon changed to a demand that he should be tied to the stake, and it was done. His clothing was torn from his body, his hands fastened above his head, and the Indians danced about him beating and whooping and jeering at the prisoner, who expected every minute that the fire would be kindled at his feet.Ordinarily this would have been done, but the desire to continue the torture was so great that the savages deferred the last awful tragedy, until they should extract more sport from the victim.He was kept in this trying position until late at night, when he was released. It seemed as if it were intended that Simon Kenton should go through every form of Indian torture, for, on the morrow, he was led out and forced to run the gauntlet.The preparations for this were so complete, and the Indians so numerous with their clubs and all sorts of weapons, that it can scarcely be doubted that Kenton would have been beaten to death, had he undertaken to speed the entire distance between the two long rows of Indians.Instead of doing so, he darted aside and after doubling upon his pursuers, plunged into thecouncil house, receiving only a few blows from the warriors standing near. Within this lodge was held the council to determine what course should be taken with their prisoner. There was no thought or releasing him, but some might prefer to delay the enjoyment of his death by torture no longer, while others were inclined to think it was too pleasant for them to allow the amusement to terminate so soon.A comparison of views and a ballot showed that the majority were in favor of deferring his taking off a short while longer. His execution, therefore, was suspended for the time, and it was agreed to take him to an Indian town on Mad River, known as Waughcotomoco."What is to be done with me after we get there?" asked Kenton of the renegade who interpreted the sentence to him."Burn you at the stake," was the reply, accompanied by a brutal oath, as the white savage strode away.Kenton was given back his clothing, and was not bound while on the road, as it was deemed impossible for him to escape from among his numerous, vigilant captors.But, as there could be no doubt that his death by torture was fully determined, the prisoner was resolved on one desperate effort to escape, for in no sense could a failure result in making his condition worse than before.He deferred the attempt until they were so close to Waughcotomoco, that the party exchanged signalwhoops with the warriors of the town who began flocking thither to see the prisoner.Feeling that it was then or never, Kenton uttered a shout and broke away like a frightened deer, the Indians following him, some on foot, and some on horseback. His great fleetness might have enabled him to escape, but while he was running from those behind, he came directly upon a party who were riding from the village to meet the others, and before he was hardly aware of his danger he was recaptured.After suffering great indignities, they reached Waughcotomoco, where Kenton was forced to run the gauntlet again and was badly hurt. He was then taken to the council-house, where he sat in despair, while the warriors consulted as to the precise means of his death.While they were thus engaged, Simon Girty and three companions came in with a white woman and seven children as prisoners. Kenton was taken away to make room for these, and as their fate now became a matter of debate, the session was protracted until a late hour. The verdict, however, was inevitable, and on the morrow, Simon Girty, the notorious renegade, gave himself the extreme pleasure of communicating the news to the hapless prisoner.During this interview Girty was astounded to discover in the prisoner his former comrade, who had served with him as a spy in Dunmore's expedition. That was before Girty had foresworn his race, and the two men became warmly attached to each other.Girty was greatly agitated, and instantly set towork to secure the release of the prisoner. The difficulty of this task can scarcely be imagined, for such a request was unprecedented; but Girty persevered, making the most ardent appeals and begging and insisting, until it was put to a vote, when it was agreed that the prayer, coming from one who had served them so faithfully as had the renegade for three years, could not be denied, and it was granted.Kenton now remained a prisoner among the Indians for three weeks, during which Girty treated him with unvarying kindness. Indeed his conduct in this extraordinary matter is the single bright spot in the career of one of the most terrible wretches that ever lived.At the end of the time mentioned, however, another council was held, and despite the strenuous efforts of Girty, Kenton was condemned to death at the stake. There now seemed no possible hope, and, telling his friend he had done all he could for him, Girty shook his hand and bade him good-by.But Kenton's remarkable good fortune did not desert him. The great chief Logan gave him his friendship and did what he could to save him, when Kenton was brought to his village, which was a short distance away. His interference, however, seemed to be unavailing, and he was started for Sandusky under a strong escort, that being the place fixed upon for his final death by torture.There, however, when Kenton had abandoned all hope, an Indian agent by the name of Drewyer interested himself in his behalf, and by an ingenious statagem secured his removal to Detroit.He thus became a prisoner-of-war, as Detroit was in the possession of the British, and his situation was immeasurably improved. He was sure to be treated in a civilized manner, and in process of time would be set free.The situation, however, was anything but agreeable to Kenton, who was continually seeking for some way of escape. None presented itself for a long time, and he remained working for the garrison on half-pay until the summer of 1779.It was at this time that the longed-for opportunity presented itself, through the kindness of the wife of an Indian trader. Kenton knew well enough that it would never do to plunge into the wilderness without rifles and ammunition, and she agreed to furnish him and two Kentuckians with the indispensable articles.It was no small task for a lady to secure three guns and ammunition without the assistance of any one, but she succeeded in doing so. In the early summer of that year, the Indians around Detroit engaged in one of their periodical carousals. It was at night, and before giving themselves over to their brutish indulgence they stacked their guns near the house of the lady.Without difficulty she secured three of the best, and hid them in her garden. Previous to this she had gathered some extra clothing and the required ammunition, which were hidden in a hollow tree outside the town. She managed to communicate with Kenton, who, at the appointed time, appeared at the garden with his friends, got the guns, andthanking his preserver most fervently and receiving her best wishes in return, bade her good-by and hastened away with his companions.There was no difficulty in stealing out of town, which was full of drunken Indians, but it never would have done to wait; both they and the guns would be missed in the morning, and search would be immediately made.The hollow tree was easily found, and hastily equipping themselves with what was stored there, they plunged into the wilderness and started on their long and dangerous journey for Louisville, Kentucky.Leaving the commonly-traveled route, they first headed for the prairies of the Wabash, and pushed on like veteran pioneers who knew they were continually in danger of pursuit. They lost no time on the road, nor did they cease to use continual vigilance.They were over a month making their way through the solitudes, but finally reached Louisville, without accident, in the month of July, 1779.Kenton had become so accustomed to his rough, adventurous life, that he chafed under the quiet and restraint of the town. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, therefore, he struck into the woods alone and tramped to Vincennes to see his old friend, Major Clark. He was warmly greeted, but he found everything so dull and hum-drum that he re-entered the wilderness, and after a long journey reached Harrodsburg, where he was received with as much delight as though he were Daniel Boone himself.In the famous expedition of General Clark against the Indians, described elsewhere, Simon Kenton commanded a company of volunteers from Harrod's Station, and was one of the bravest officers of that formidable campaign against the red men, whose outrages were becoming so serious that the blow was determined upon as a means of forcing them to stay within their own lines.It will be remembered that the command of General Clark numbered over a thousand men, and it will be understood that it was the most effective demonstration that, up to that time, had ever been undertaken on the frontier. Chillicothe, Pickaway, and numerous smaller towns were burnt and all the crops destroyed.It can well be believed that when they reached Pickaway and the Indians made a stand, the arm of Simon Kenton was nerved with tenfold power, for it was there, two years before, that he had been compelled to run the gauntlet and was beaten almost to death. It was with the memory of the terrible sufferings of that time that he led his company into action, and he fought, as did they, like Richard Cœur de Lion.The warriors made a brave resistance, but were unable to withstand the furious attack, and soon were scattered like chaff, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. This campaign brought peace and quietness to the frontier during the following two years. Kenton engaged in hunting, or in assisting surveying parties, until 1782, when he received the most startling news of his life.For eleven years he had been a wanderer in the woods, oftentimes in indescribable peril, suffering almost death over and over again, and never free from the remorse caused by that encounter with his rival so long before in Virginia, whom he believed he left dying upon the ground and from whose presence he fled like Cain from the vengeance of men.But at the time mentioned Kenton received proof that the man was not killed in that desperate affray, but had recovered, and was then alive and well, as was also the aged father of Kenton.It can scarcely be conceived how great a burden these tidings lifted from the heart of Simon Kenton, who was no longer afraid to reveal his identity and make inquiries about his friends. It was like entering upon a new and joyous life.Kenton commanded another company in General Clark's campaign in the autumn of 1782, and, as before, acted as the guide of the army, his knowledge of the country and his consummate woodcraft rendering his services indispensable in that direction.While this campaign was only one of the numerous similar ones which have marked the settlement of the West, and which, sad to say, were too often accompanied by overwhelming disaster, it was rendered memorable to Kenton by a singular and impressive engagement into which he entered.It was when the army was on its return, when opposite the mouth of the Licking, Nov. 4th, 1782, that Captain McCracken, who was dying from a wound received in battle, suggested that all the pioneers of the expedition who might be livingfifty years from that day, should meet on the spot to celebrate the semi-centennial of the campaign.It was at the suggestion of the dying soldier that Colonel Floyd drew up the resolution, and the meeting a half century later was agreed upon.The purpose accomplished, the volunteers were disbanded, and Kenton went back to Harrod's Station, where he was always most gladly welcomed.He had acquired considerable land, which was rapidly increasing in value. With a few families he began a settlement, which prospered greatly. The soil was very fertile, they were industrious, and they were blessed with abundant crops.The circumstances being favorable, Kenton made a journey to Virginia to visit his father and friends. Thirteen years had passed since he had fled, believing himself a murderer, and now, among the first to take his hand, after he entered the familiar place, was his former rival in love. He and his wife greeted the handsome pioneer with great cordiality, and all resentment was buried in the happiness of the meeting.Kenton was thankful indeed to find his aged father in good health, though his mother had been dead a number of years. Accompanied by his parent and the rest of the family, he started for Kentucky, intending that his father should spend the rest of his days with him. Such was the case, indeed, but the days proved fewer than the affectionate son supposed they would be.The parent was very feeble, and when Red StoneFort was reached, he quietly died. He was buried on the banks of the Monongahela, and Kenton, with the remainder of the family, arrived at the settlement in the winter of 1784.Kentucky was rapidly filling up with emigrants at this time, though, as is well known, the Indians were very troublesome. Kenton saw that the land was certain to become valuable, and he determined to occupy the fertile section around his old camp near Maysville, which he had occasion to remember so well.He made the venture in the summer of 1784, with a company of pioneers; but the Indians were so dangerous that they were forced to retire for the time. A few months later Kenton went back with a few friends, built a block-house, and soon after was joined by several families.Settlers continued to flock thither, and the country prospered, despite the hostility of the red men. Kenton, by his foresight, had secured the right and title to a large quantity of valuable land. One thousand acres of this he gave to Arthur Fox and William Wood, and on it they laid out the town of Washington.Despite the severe blow administered by General Clark, the savages committed so many depredations that a retaliatory campaign was determined upon. Seven hundred volunteers gathered under Colonel Logan and invaded the Indian country, inflicting much damage, and returning with only a trifling loss.The guide of this expedition was Simon Kenton, who also commanded a company; but it wasscarcely home again when the Indians renewed their depredations with such persistency that Kenton appealed to his old friends to rally once more, and to "carry the war into Africa."It was promptly done, he assuming the part of captain and of guide as before. Chillicothe was burned, and the expedition returned without losing a man.By this time Kenton was acknowledged as the leader in the frontier settlement. He possessed a great deal of valuable land, was a master of woodcraft, and in all the troubles with the Indians was looked to for protection and assistance.During the half-dozen years following, his services in the latter respect were beyond estimate. He demonstrated his skill in the ways of the woods by ambushing a party of dusky marauders who had come down to devastate the border, and by inflicting such severe loss that the others fled in terror and never attempted to molest the settlement again.But this period will be recognized by the reader as the eventful one of General Anthony Wayne's expedition against the combined Indian tribes of the West. Disaster had followed disaster, until the United States Government saw the necessity of ending the troubles by a campaign which should be resistless, and crushing in its effects.Simon Kenton, at the time of Wayne's expedition, was a major, and with his battalion he joined the forces at Greenville. It may be said that his reputation at that time was national, and he was recognized as one of the most skillful and intrepidpioneers of the West. His bravery, activity and knowledge of "wood lore," inspired confidence everywhere, and linked his name inseparably with the settlement of the West.His foresight in taking up the valuable lands was now shown by the results. They appreciated so rapidly in value with the settlement and development of the country, that he became one of the wealthiest settlers in Kentucky.But singularly (and yet perhaps it was not singular either), the same misfortune overtook him that befell Daniel Boone and so many others of the pioneers.The rapacious speculators, by their superior cunning, got all his land away from him, until he was not worth a farthing. Worse than that they brought him in debt, and his body was taken upon the covenants in deeds to lands, which he had in point of fact given away. He was imprisoned for a full year on the very spot where he built his cabin in 1775, and planted the first corn planted north of the Kentucky River by a white man, and where for many a time he had braved hunger, death, and undergone suffering in its most frightful forms.He was literally reduced to beggary by the cruel rapacity of the land sharks, and in 1802 he removed to Ohio and settled in Urbana. Kenton's remarkable sweetness of character, despite the fact that he was one of the most terrible of Indian fighters, was such that he scarcely ever uttered a word of complaint. No man had endured morethan he for Kentucky and Ohio, and no one had ever been treated more shabbily; yet he loved the "Dark and Bloody Ground" none the less.His services and his ability were appreciated to that extent in Ohio that he was elected a brigadier-general of militia, three years after his removal to the State. Five years later, that is, in 1810, he was converted and joined the Methodist Episcopal Church.Reverend J. B. Finley, the well known missionary of the West, relates that his father and Kenton met at a camp meeting on the Mad River. They were old friends and the interview was a most pleasant one. The meeting was accompanied by a great awakening, during which Kenton took the elder Finley aside and told him how deeply his heart had been touched, how much he was impressed with his own sinfulness, and how desirous he was of obtaining divine pardon.He bound the minister to keep the whole matter a secret, and the two knelt down in prayer in the woods. Kenton was speedily converted, and springing to his feet, ran shouting back to camp meeting, with the minister panting after him.The old Indian fighter outran his pastor, and when Mr. Finley reached his congregation, the other had gathered a great crowd about him, and, with a glowing face, was telling the news of his conversion."I thought this was to be a secret," called out Mr. Finley, "and here, General, you are proclaiming it to every one.""It's too glorious to keep," was the reply of Kenton.He continued a devout and humble Christian for the rest of his life. His voice was remarkably sweet and musical, and he was fond of singing. He took part in many religious exercises and meetings, and entered into the service of his divine Master with the same ardor he had shown in that of his country, during his early and mature manhood.In 1813, Kenton joined the Kentucky troops under Governor Shelby, with whose family he was a great favorite. He was then nearly threescore years of age, but he was rugged, strong, and as patriotic as ever. He took part in the battle of the Thames, fighting with the same bravery that was natural to him from boyhood.It was the last engagement in which he bore a hand, and respecting it the following incident is worthy of note:In the month of May, 1881, Ayres Lefargee, who died at Poplar Plain, Kentucky, was buried at Decatur, Illinois. He was a soldier of the war of 1812, in the fourth regiment of Kentucky troops under Governor Shelby, and was present at the battle of the Thames in which the great Shawanoe chieftain Tecumseh was killed. After the battle he went with Captain Matthews and Simon Kenton to the spot where the chief fell. "Turn the body over," said Kenton, and, upon Lefargee doing so, they found seven bullet-holes in it. Lefargee always claimed that Tecumseh was killed by a soldier named Dave Gealding.This question has never been satisfactorily settled, though the claim of Colonel Richard M. Johnson seems as good as that of any one. His horse had fallen, and while he was endeavoring to extricate himself, a distinguished looking Indian who, it was claimed by many that knew him, was Tecumseh, made a rush for Colonel Johnson."I didn't stop to ask him his name," said Colonel Johnson, when questioned about it afterwards, "for there was no time for explanations, but I fired, when, had I waited five seconds longer, he would have brained me with his upraised tomahawk."The war of 1812 finished, Kenton returned to the obscurity of his humble cabin, where he lived until 1820, when he removed to the headwaters of Mad River, Logan county, Ohio, near the very spot where, many years before, he had been tied to the stake by the Indians, when they condemned him to death.It seemed impossible for the old pioneer to escape the annoyance of the land-sharpers. He was still the owner of many large mountain tracts of Kentucky, but he was "land poor," in its fullest sense, and these were forfeited for taxes.Kenton became so worn out, and so distressed by poverty, that in 1824, when nearly seventy years old, he rode to Frankfort, while the Legislature was in session, to petition that body to release these comparatively worthless lands from the claims upon them for unpaid taxes.The old hunter was clothed in dilapidated garments, and his rickety horse looked so woe-begonethat the wonder was how he could carry such a large man as he was. But when it became known that Simon Kenton was in town, it caused an excitement like that which the arrival of the menagerie and circus excites.There was no one in the capital of Kentucky who had not heard of the wonderful exploits of Kenton, and the tall handsome figure of the hunter, with his mild prepossessing features, would have attracted attention anywhere. It was hard to believe that this old gentleman with his gentle blue eyes, his soft musical voice, and his humble Christian bearing, was the hurricane-like fighter, who had torn the reeking scalp from the head of the fierce savage, who had run the gauntlet more than once, who had trailed the red Indian through the gloomy depths of the forest and who had lived in the wilderness in storm and sunshine, week after week and month after month, when he never closed his eyes with certainty he would not be awakened for an instant by the crash of the tomahawk as it clove his skull in twain.But this was Simon Kenton, and the crowds began to gather. General Thomas Fletcher recognized him and donned him in a good respectable suit of clothing. Then he was taken to the Capitol and placed in the Speaker's chair, where the multitude, in which were the legislators and the most prominent citizens, filed through the building, and were introduced to the great adventurer, who smilingly shook their hands, exchanged a few pleasant words, and blushed like a school boy.It was the proudest day of Simon Kenton's life, and he had every reason to look back to it with delight, for it resulted in substantial benefit to him.His presence called up so vividly the great services he had rendered the State, and the burning injustice he had suffered, that the legislators at once released all his lands from the tax claims, and shortly after, through the exertions of Judge Burnet and General Vance, of Congress, a pension of two hundred and forty dollars a year was obtained for the old hero, who was thus secured against want for the remainder of his life.Kenton now lived a quiet life, serene and hopeful, and quietly contemplating the end which he knew was close at hand. He was held in the greatest respect and the strongest affection by his numerous friends, while Kentucky itself felt a pride in the brave hunter, scout and pioneer.It will be remembered by the reader, that on the 4th of November, 1782, Simon Kenton became a party to an agreement of singular and romantic interest.During the expedition of General Clark against the Indian towns, Kenton as usual acted as guide to the army, which numbered fifteen hundred men. On the return of the force, the pioneers which composed it came to a halt, opposite the Licking, and held a conference. Captain McCracken, of the Kentucky Light Horse, had received a slight wound in the arm while fighting, and which caused him little concern at the time. But a virulent mortification had set in, and it became evident to all thathe had but a short time to live. At his suggestion, Colonel Floyd brought forward the resolution by which the pioneers who might survive agreed to meet on that same spot, a half century later, to talk over old times.The meeting was held in the unbroken wilderness, abounding with its game and with the fierce red man; and the pioneers were in the flush and vigor of young manhood, with many years of hard, perilous service before them. They all felt that such as should be spared to see the closing of the half century before them, would witness changes and developments in their beloved country, such as awed the imagination when it attempted to grasp it.On that lonely spot, where McCracken closed his eyes and was laid mournfully away in his last long rest by his brave brother pioneers, was the heart of the magnificently growing West. His grave was in sight of the beautiful Queen city, and the howling wilderness now blossomed as the rose.As the semi-centennial approached, it was looked forward to with a strong interest by the survivors, who were found to be quite numerous. The lives which these hardy pioneers led were conducive to longevity, provided always the wild Indians afforded the opportunity and failed to cut them off in their prime."And tall and strong and swift of foot are they,Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions,Because their thoughts had never been the preyOf care or gain; the green woods were their portions;No sinking spirits told them they grew gray,No fashions made them apes of her distortions.Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles,Though very true, were not yet used for trifles."Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers,And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil.Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers;Corruption could not make their hearts her soil;The lust which stings, the splendor which encumbers,With the free foresters divide no spoil;Serene, not sullen, were the solitudesOf this unsighing people of the woods."As the semi-centennial approached, Simon Kenton, who had passed his fourscore, was deeply solicitous lest he should not be able to be present. He was desirous that every survivor should be at the gathering, and published an address in which he said:"Fellow Citizens:—Being one of the first, after Colonel Daniel Boone, who aided in the conquest of Kentucky and the West, I am called upon to address you. My heart melts on such an occasion; I look forward to the contemplated meeting with melancholy pleasure; it has caused tears to flow in copious showers. I wish to see once more before I die, my few surviving friends. My solemn promise, made fifty years ago, binds me to meet them. I ask not for myself; but you may find in our assembly some who have never received any pay or pension, who have sustained the cause of their country equal to any other service, and who in the decline of their life are poor. Then, you prosperous sons of the West, forget not those old and gray-headed veterans on this occasion; let them return to their families with some little manifestations of your kindness to cheer their hearts."I may add my prayer: may kind Heaven grant us a clear sky, fair and pleasant weather, a safe journey, and a happy meeting and a smile upon us and our families, and bless us and our nation on the approaching occasion."SIMON KENTON."Urbana, Ohio, 1832."The year 1832 will be recognized as the terrible cholera season, when the pestilence smote the land and the whole country was in mourning. Men shrank appalled as the multitudes sank on their right and left, and business for the time was paralyzed by the awful scourge which swept from one end of the land to the other.Cincinnati was shrouded in deepest gloom by the ravages of the fearful disease, yet when the anniversary came round a large number of the old pioneers met, and the Corporation voted them a dinner.General Simon Kenton, in spite of his anxiety to be present, was unable to appear, owing to his feebleness and indisposition of body. His absence was greatly mourned, for he would have been the prince of all that noble band, could his venerable form have appeared among them.With Kenton the sunset of life was as quiet and serene as the close of a summer day. In the month of April, 1836, he quietly died in his home, surrounded by his affectionate family, friends and neighbors, and supported by the sublime faith of the meek, devout Christian, who joyfully approaches the dark river and launches out for the other shore.

Kenton and his Friends Visit Boonesborough—Desperate Encounter with Indians—Proceeds with Two Companions to Reconnoitre an Indian Town on the Little Miami—Captured while Making Off with a Number of Horses—Brutal Treatment—Bound to the Stake and Runs the Gauntlet—Friendship of Simon Girty, the Renegade—Finally Saved by an Indian Trader—Removed to Detroit, and Escapes—Commands a Company in General Clark's Expedition—Receives Good News—Visits Virginia—Death of his Father—Reduced to Poverty—Removes to Urbana, Ohio—Elected Brigadier-General—His Conversion—His Last Days.

Kenton and his Friends Visit Boonesborough—Desperate Encounter with Indians—Proceeds with Two Companions to Reconnoitre an Indian Town on the Little Miami—Captured while Making Off with a Number of Horses—Brutal Treatment—Bound to the Stake and Runs the Gauntlet—Friendship of Simon Girty, the Renegade—Finally Saved by an Indian Trader—Removed to Detroit, and Escapes—Commands a Company in General Clark's Expedition—Receives Good News—Visits Virginia—Death of his Father—Reduced to Poverty—Removes to Urbana, Ohio—Elected Brigadier-General—His Conversion—His Last Days.

Simon Kenton and his two friends stayed at Washington until the following September, undisturbed by Indians, though they were never entirely free from apprehension of a visit from them.

In the month named they visited the Lick, where they encountered a white man, who told them most important news. The interior of Kentucky had been settled in several places, and there was a thriving pioneer station at Boonesborough.

Kenton and his friends were glad to learn this, for they had seen enough of the perils of the woods to long for the society of some of their own race. They immediately left their dangerous home, and, visiting the smaller settlements, made a prolonged stay at Boonesborough, where they were most gladly welcomed. During the two sieges of the place which we have described, Kenton was one ofthe garrison, and served with great efficiency as a spy and scout until the summer of 1778, when Boone came back from captivity and formed the plan for the attack upon the Indians at Paint Creek.

This expedition, which has already been referred to elsewhere, proved to be a most eventful one to Kenton, who acted as spy. After crossing the Ohio, he kept a considerable distance in advance, on the alert for the first evidence of Indians.

He was suddenly startled by hearing a loud laugh from an adjoining thicket, which he was on the point of entering. Like a flash the scout sprang behind a tree and with cocked rifle awaited the explanation.

He had but a few minutes to wait, when two Indians emerged from the thicket, mounted on a pony. Both were laughing and chatting in high spirits, and with no thought of anything like danger. They had been on some marauding expedition against the whites, and had met with such success that they seemed as elated as a couple of children.

Kenton held his place until they approached within easy distance, when he took careful aim and fired. The well-aimed shot killed the first and badly wounded the second, while the frightened pony whirled about and dashed into the thicket. Kenton instantly ran up to the slain Indian to scalp him, in accordance with the barbarous practice of the border, when a rustling on his right caused him to look up. To his amazement, there were two Indiansnot twenty yards distant, both of whom were in the act of taking aim at him.

The scout sprang aside at the instant both fired, and though the bullets whizzed close to his eyes he was uninjured. There could be no doubt that the neighborhood was a most undesirable one just then, for other warriors were near by, and Kenton lost no time in taking to the shelter of the woods.

Fleet as he was, he had no more than reached shelter, when a dozen Indians appeared on the margin of the canebrake and the situation of the scout became most serious; but, at this critical moment, Boone appeared with his party, who opened a brisk fire upon the Indians. The attack was so spirited that they broke and scattered, and Kenton was relieved from his perilous position.

Boone, as we have stated elsewhere, immediately returned to Boonesborough, but the intrepid Kenton determined to learn more of the Indians, and if possible to repay them for the attack they had made upon him.

Accompanied by a friend named Montgomery, they approached the Indian town not far off, and stationed themselves near a cornfield, expecting the red men would enter it for the purpose of roasting the ears. With that characteristic patience of the border scouts, they stayed beside the cornfield the entire day waiting and watching for a shot at some of the warriors. But during the time not a single one appeared, though the whites could hear the voices of the children playing near at hand.

The scouts were greatly disappointed, for they had been confident of seeing some warrior, but night came without such an opportunity having presented itself, and they were forced to ask themselves the question whether they would go back empty handed, so to speak, or whether they would incur some additional risk for the sake of accomplishing something by way of retaliation.

As the best they could do, they stealthily entered the Indian town late at night, picked out four good horses, made all haste to the Ohio, which they crossed in safety, and on the succeeding day reached Logan's fort without disturbance.

This was an extraordinary achievement, for the Indians and settlers were in such open hostility that it may be said the former were constantly on the alert to prevent just such surprises.

Colonel Bowman, at the fort, requested Kenton, Montgomery and a Mr. Clark to undertake a more difficult and dangerous task for him: that was a secret expedition to one of the Indian towns on the Little Miami, against which the Colonel meditated an expedition, and about which, of course, he was desirous of gaining all the information possible.

The duty was a congenial one to the three men, who reached the village without discovery, made a careful reconnoissance by night, and were then ready to return home.

Well would it have been for them had they done so, but the subsequent conduct of Kenton shows that his repeated escapes and continued immunity at the hands of the savages, had rendered him reckless,and caused him to estimate too highly perhaps his own prowess and skill as compared with theirs.

At this time, unfortunately, they discovered an enclosure where the Indians kept their horses. Like all borderers they dearly loved that kind of property, and could not resist the temptation. More than that, instead of selecting the best, they took the whole lot and started for the Ohio.

Such a wholesale proceeding created a good deal of confusion despite the care of the three scouts, and the Indians speedily discovered what was going on.

They poured out of their wigwams and lodges, in great excitement, all eager to prevent the loss of their property, while the whites showed an equal eagerness to get away with it. Instead of abandoning the animals and attempting to save themselves, they foolishly continued their effort to escape with them all.

One rode in front leading the animals, and the other two remained at the rear and lashed them into a gallop, through the woods, while the excited Indians came whooping and shrieking after them.

It was a wild, break-neck proceeding, but the scouts kept it up until they reached the edge of an impenetrable swamp, where, for the first time since starting, they came to a stand-still and listened for their pursuers.

Not a sound was heard, to indicate they were anywhere in the neighborhood, and the whites congratulated themselves on what looked like a remarkable achievement. But they were certain tobe pursued, and skirting the swamp, they continued their flight in the direction of the Ohio, which was a long way distant.

The horses were pressed to the utmost, the riders frequently changing animals, through the night, the next day, and most of the following night. The next morning they stood on the northern bank of the Ohio.

The wind was blowing strongly, and the river was so boisterous that the crossing was sure to be difficult. At the same time they knew that their pursuers would not delay, and must be close behind them. A hurried consultation was held, and it was agreed that Kenton should swim the animals over while Montgomery and Clark constructed a raft to transport the baggage.

Accordingly Kenton led the animals into the river, while he swam at their side, but the stream had become so rough that he was forced away from them, and all he could do was to save himself from drowning. The horses being left to themselves turned about and swam back to the shore they had left a short time before.

This exasperating performance was repeated until Kenton became so exhausted that he was forced to lie down on the shore until he could recover his strength and wind.

A council of war, as it might be called, was then held and the question considered was whether they should abandon the animals and attend to their own safety, or risk their lives by waiting where they were until the Ohio should become calmer, inthe hope of getting them to the other side. Nothing can show the great admiration of the men of the border for the noblest of all animals, than their immediate and unanimous agreement that they would never desert their horses.

The scouts committed the inexplainable blunder of staying where they were, knowing, as they must have known, that the infuriated warriors were rapidly coming up on their trail, and could be at no great distance behind them.

The wind continued churning the water all through the day, and did not abate until the next morning. Then, when they tried to force the steeds into the water, they refused and some of them broke away. The infatuated scouts lost more valuable time in the vain attempt to recapture them and, as was inevitable, the Indians soon made their appearance.

They were in such numbers, and so well armed, that it was useless to fight them, and Clark had sense enough to take to his heels. He succeeded in effecting his own escape. Montgomery was shot down and scalped, while Kenton was seized from behind, when on the very point of assailing a warrior in front, and pinioned. Others speedily gathered, beat and shook the scout, and pulled his hair, until he was tortured almost to death.

"Steal hoss of Indian, eh!" they exclaimed again and again as they beat him over the head with their ramrods.

When they had pounded him until they were tired, Kenton was thrown on his back, and hisarms stretched out at full length. Pieces of saplings were then fastened to his arms and legs in such a manner that the poor fellow was literally unable to stir hand or foot.

While thus engaged they continued to beat and curse him in broken English. When he was strapped in his immovable position he was left until morning. No pen can picture the utter horror and misery of such a night, with arm and legs outstretched and with body incapable of any motion excepting a slight turn of the head.

It was a literal crucifixion, without the erection of the cross. Knowing the Indians so well, he did not entertain a particle of doubt that he would be put to death with the most fearful torture that can be imagined.

The fury of the Indians against Kenton seemed to increase rather than diminish. It would have been a very easy matter to tomahawk or slay him with knife or rifle, when he was so helpless, but that would have ended the matter and deprived them of the enjoyment they counted upon at such times.

In the morning they gave a Mazeppa performance, by tying Kenton fast to an unbroken colt and turning him loose. The horse, however, seemed to have more pity than his cruel masters, for after galloping a short distance about the others, he came back and rejoined them, continuing with the others until nightfall, when Kenton was taken off and fastened by buffalo thongs to the stakes of saplings as before.

For three days the terrible march continued,when the Indian town of Chillicothe was reached. The arrival of the prisoner created great excitement, and the chief Blackfish beat Kenton over the naked shoulders with hickory sticks until the blood flowed, and the poor fellow was almost delirious with agony.

All the cries he heard during this fearful punishment were those of fury. These soon changed to a demand that he should be tied to the stake, and it was done. His clothing was torn from his body, his hands fastened above his head, and the Indians danced about him beating and whooping and jeering at the prisoner, who expected every minute that the fire would be kindled at his feet.

Ordinarily this would have been done, but the desire to continue the torture was so great that the savages deferred the last awful tragedy, until they should extract more sport from the victim.

He was kept in this trying position until late at night, when he was released. It seemed as if it were intended that Simon Kenton should go through every form of Indian torture, for, on the morrow, he was led out and forced to run the gauntlet.

The preparations for this were so complete, and the Indians so numerous with their clubs and all sorts of weapons, that it can scarcely be doubted that Kenton would have been beaten to death, had he undertaken to speed the entire distance between the two long rows of Indians.

Instead of doing so, he darted aside and after doubling upon his pursuers, plunged into thecouncil house, receiving only a few blows from the warriors standing near. Within this lodge was held the council to determine what course should be taken with their prisoner. There was no thought or releasing him, but some might prefer to delay the enjoyment of his death by torture no longer, while others were inclined to think it was too pleasant for them to allow the amusement to terminate so soon.

A comparison of views and a ballot showed that the majority were in favor of deferring his taking off a short while longer. His execution, therefore, was suspended for the time, and it was agreed to take him to an Indian town on Mad River, known as Waughcotomoco.

"What is to be done with me after we get there?" asked Kenton of the renegade who interpreted the sentence to him.

"Burn you at the stake," was the reply, accompanied by a brutal oath, as the white savage strode away.

Kenton was given back his clothing, and was not bound while on the road, as it was deemed impossible for him to escape from among his numerous, vigilant captors.

But, as there could be no doubt that his death by torture was fully determined, the prisoner was resolved on one desperate effort to escape, for in no sense could a failure result in making his condition worse than before.

He deferred the attempt until they were so close to Waughcotomoco, that the party exchanged signalwhoops with the warriors of the town who began flocking thither to see the prisoner.

Feeling that it was then or never, Kenton uttered a shout and broke away like a frightened deer, the Indians following him, some on foot, and some on horseback. His great fleetness might have enabled him to escape, but while he was running from those behind, he came directly upon a party who were riding from the village to meet the others, and before he was hardly aware of his danger he was recaptured.

After suffering great indignities, they reached Waughcotomoco, where Kenton was forced to run the gauntlet again and was badly hurt. He was then taken to the council-house, where he sat in despair, while the warriors consulted as to the precise means of his death.

While they were thus engaged, Simon Girty and three companions came in with a white woman and seven children as prisoners. Kenton was taken away to make room for these, and as their fate now became a matter of debate, the session was protracted until a late hour. The verdict, however, was inevitable, and on the morrow, Simon Girty, the notorious renegade, gave himself the extreme pleasure of communicating the news to the hapless prisoner.

During this interview Girty was astounded to discover in the prisoner his former comrade, who had served with him as a spy in Dunmore's expedition. That was before Girty had foresworn his race, and the two men became warmly attached to each other.

Girty was greatly agitated, and instantly set towork to secure the release of the prisoner. The difficulty of this task can scarcely be imagined, for such a request was unprecedented; but Girty persevered, making the most ardent appeals and begging and insisting, until it was put to a vote, when it was agreed that the prayer, coming from one who had served them so faithfully as had the renegade for three years, could not be denied, and it was granted.

Kenton now remained a prisoner among the Indians for three weeks, during which Girty treated him with unvarying kindness. Indeed his conduct in this extraordinary matter is the single bright spot in the career of one of the most terrible wretches that ever lived.

At the end of the time mentioned, however, another council was held, and despite the strenuous efforts of Girty, Kenton was condemned to death at the stake. There now seemed no possible hope, and, telling his friend he had done all he could for him, Girty shook his hand and bade him good-by.

But Kenton's remarkable good fortune did not desert him. The great chief Logan gave him his friendship and did what he could to save him, when Kenton was brought to his village, which was a short distance away. His interference, however, seemed to be unavailing, and he was started for Sandusky under a strong escort, that being the place fixed upon for his final death by torture.

There, however, when Kenton had abandoned all hope, an Indian agent by the name of Drewyer interested himself in his behalf, and by an ingenious statagem secured his removal to Detroit.

He thus became a prisoner-of-war, as Detroit was in the possession of the British, and his situation was immeasurably improved. He was sure to be treated in a civilized manner, and in process of time would be set free.

The situation, however, was anything but agreeable to Kenton, who was continually seeking for some way of escape. None presented itself for a long time, and he remained working for the garrison on half-pay until the summer of 1779.

It was at this time that the longed-for opportunity presented itself, through the kindness of the wife of an Indian trader. Kenton knew well enough that it would never do to plunge into the wilderness without rifles and ammunition, and she agreed to furnish him and two Kentuckians with the indispensable articles.

It was no small task for a lady to secure three guns and ammunition without the assistance of any one, but she succeeded in doing so. In the early summer of that year, the Indians around Detroit engaged in one of their periodical carousals. It was at night, and before giving themselves over to their brutish indulgence they stacked their guns near the house of the lady.

Without difficulty she secured three of the best, and hid them in her garden. Previous to this she had gathered some extra clothing and the required ammunition, which were hidden in a hollow tree outside the town. She managed to communicate with Kenton, who, at the appointed time, appeared at the garden with his friends, got the guns, andthanking his preserver most fervently and receiving her best wishes in return, bade her good-by and hastened away with his companions.

There was no difficulty in stealing out of town, which was full of drunken Indians, but it never would have done to wait; both they and the guns would be missed in the morning, and search would be immediately made.

The hollow tree was easily found, and hastily equipping themselves with what was stored there, they plunged into the wilderness and started on their long and dangerous journey for Louisville, Kentucky.

Leaving the commonly-traveled route, they first headed for the prairies of the Wabash, and pushed on like veteran pioneers who knew they were continually in danger of pursuit. They lost no time on the road, nor did they cease to use continual vigilance.

They were over a month making their way through the solitudes, but finally reached Louisville, without accident, in the month of July, 1779.

Kenton had become so accustomed to his rough, adventurous life, that he chafed under the quiet and restraint of the town. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, therefore, he struck into the woods alone and tramped to Vincennes to see his old friend, Major Clark. He was warmly greeted, but he found everything so dull and hum-drum that he re-entered the wilderness, and after a long journey reached Harrodsburg, where he was received with as much delight as though he were Daniel Boone himself.

In the famous expedition of General Clark against the Indians, described elsewhere, Simon Kenton commanded a company of volunteers from Harrod's Station, and was one of the bravest officers of that formidable campaign against the red men, whose outrages were becoming so serious that the blow was determined upon as a means of forcing them to stay within their own lines.

It will be remembered that the command of General Clark numbered over a thousand men, and it will be understood that it was the most effective demonstration that, up to that time, had ever been undertaken on the frontier. Chillicothe, Pickaway, and numerous smaller towns were burnt and all the crops destroyed.

It can well be believed that when they reached Pickaway and the Indians made a stand, the arm of Simon Kenton was nerved with tenfold power, for it was there, two years before, that he had been compelled to run the gauntlet and was beaten almost to death. It was with the memory of the terrible sufferings of that time that he led his company into action, and he fought, as did they, like Richard Cœur de Lion.

The warriors made a brave resistance, but were unable to withstand the furious attack, and soon were scattered like chaff, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. This campaign brought peace and quietness to the frontier during the following two years. Kenton engaged in hunting, or in assisting surveying parties, until 1782, when he received the most startling news of his life.

For eleven years he had been a wanderer in the woods, oftentimes in indescribable peril, suffering almost death over and over again, and never free from the remorse caused by that encounter with his rival so long before in Virginia, whom he believed he left dying upon the ground and from whose presence he fled like Cain from the vengeance of men.

But at the time mentioned Kenton received proof that the man was not killed in that desperate affray, but had recovered, and was then alive and well, as was also the aged father of Kenton.

It can scarcely be conceived how great a burden these tidings lifted from the heart of Simon Kenton, who was no longer afraid to reveal his identity and make inquiries about his friends. It was like entering upon a new and joyous life.

Kenton commanded another company in General Clark's campaign in the autumn of 1782, and, as before, acted as the guide of the army, his knowledge of the country and his consummate woodcraft rendering his services indispensable in that direction.

While this campaign was only one of the numerous similar ones which have marked the settlement of the West, and which, sad to say, were too often accompanied by overwhelming disaster, it was rendered memorable to Kenton by a singular and impressive engagement into which he entered.

It was when the army was on its return, when opposite the mouth of the Licking, Nov. 4th, 1782, that Captain McCracken, who was dying from a wound received in battle, suggested that all the pioneers of the expedition who might be livingfifty years from that day, should meet on the spot to celebrate the semi-centennial of the campaign.

It was at the suggestion of the dying soldier that Colonel Floyd drew up the resolution, and the meeting a half century later was agreed upon.

The purpose accomplished, the volunteers were disbanded, and Kenton went back to Harrod's Station, where he was always most gladly welcomed.

He had acquired considerable land, which was rapidly increasing in value. With a few families he began a settlement, which prospered greatly. The soil was very fertile, they were industrious, and they were blessed with abundant crops.

The circumstances being favorable, Kenton made a journey to Virginia to visit his father and friends. Thirteen years had passed since he had fled, believing himself a murderer, and now, among the first to take his hand, after he entered the familiar place, was his former rival in love. He and his wife greeted the handsome pioneer with great cordiality, and all resentment was buried in the happiness of the meeting.

Kenton was thankful indeed to find his aged father in good health, though his mother had been dead a number of years. Accompanied by his parent and the rest of the family, he started for Kentucky, intending that his father should spend the rest of his days with him. Such was the case, indeed, but the days proved fewer than the affectionate son supposed they would be.

The parent was very feeble, and when Red StoneFort was reached, he quietly died. He was buried on the banks of the Monongahela, and Kenton, with the remainder of the family, arrived at the settlement in the winter of 1784.

Kentucky was rapidly filling up with emigrants at this time, though, as is well known, the Indians were very troublesome. Kenton saw that the land was certain to become valuable, and he determined to occupy the fertile section around his old camp near Maysville, which he had occasion to remember so well.

He made the venture in the summer of 1784, with a company of pioneers; but the Indians were so dangerous that they were forced to retire for the time. A few months later Kenton went back with a few friends, built a block-house, and soon after was joined by several families.

Settlers continued to flock thither, and the country prospered, despite the hostility of the red men. Kenton, by his foresight, had secured the right and title to a large quantity of valuable land. One thousand acres of this he gave to Arthur Fox and William Wood, and on it they laid out the town of Washington.

Despite the severe blow administered by General Clark, the savages committed so many depredations that a retaliatory campaign was determined upon. Seven hundred volunteers gathered under Colonel Logan and invaded the Indian country, inflicting much damage, and returning with only a trifling loss.

The guide of this expedition was Simon Kenton, who also commanded a company; but it wasscarcely home again when the Indians renewed their depredations with such persistency that Kenton appealed to his old friends to rally once more, and to "carry the war into Africa."

It was promptly done, he assuming the part of captain and of guide as before. Chillicothe was burned, and the expedition returned without losing a man.

By this time Kenton was acknowledged as the leader in the frontier settlement. He possessed a great deal of valuable land, was a master of woodcraft, and in all the troubles with the Indians was looked to for protection and assistance.

During the half-dozen years following, his services in the latter respect were beyond estimate. He demonstrated his skill in the ways of the woods by ambushing a party of dusky marauders who had come down to devastate the border, and by inflicting such severe loss that the others fled in terror and never attempted to molest the settlement again.

But this period will be recognized by the reader as the eventful one of General Anthony Wayne's expedition against the combined Indian tribes of the West. Disaster had followed disaster, until the United States Government saw the necessity of ending the troubles by a campaign which should be resistless, and crushing in its effects.

Simon Kenton, at the time of Wayne's expedition, was a major, and with his battalion he joined the forces at Greenville. It may be said that his reputation at that time was national, and he was recognized as one of the most skillful and intrepidpioneers of the West. His bravery, activity and knowledge of "wood lore," inspired confidence everywhere, and linked his name inseparably with the settlement of the West.

His foresight in taking up the valuable lands was now shown by the results. They appreciated so rapidly in value with the settlement and development of the country, that he became one of the wealthiest settlers in Kentucky.

But singularly (and yet perhaps it was not singular either), the same misfortune overtook him that befell Daniel Boone and so many others of the pioneers.

The rapacious speculators, by their superior cunning, got all his land away from him, until he was not worth a farthing. Worse than that they brought him in debt, and his body was taken upon the covenants in deeds to lands, which he had in point of fact given away. He was imprisoned for a full year on the very spot where he built his cabin in 1775, and planted the first corn planted north of the Kentucky River by a white man, and where for many a time he had braved hunger, death, and undergone suffering in its most frightful forms.

He was literally reduced to beggary by the cruel rapacity of the land sharks, and in 1802 he removed to Ohio and settled in Urbana. Kenton's remarkable sweetness of character, despite the fact that he was one of the most terrible of Indian fighters, was such that he scarcely ever uttered a word of complaint. No man had endured morethan he for Kentucky and Ohio, and no one had ever been treated more shabbily; yet he loved the "Dark and Bloody Ground" none the less.

His services and his ability were appreciated to that extent in Ohio that he was elected a brigadier-general of militia, three years after his removal to the State. Five years later, that is, in 1810, he was converted and joined the Methodist Episcopal Church.

Reverend J. B. Finley, the well known missionary of the West, relates that his father and Kenton met at a camp meeting on the Mad River. They were old friends and the interview was a most pleasant one. The meeting was accompanied by a great awakening, during which Kenton took the elder Finley aside and told him how deeply his heart had been touched, how much he was impressed with his own sinfulness, and how desirous he was of obtaining divine pardon.

He bound the minister to keep the whole matter a secret, and the two knelt down in prayer in the woods. Kenton was speedily converted, and springing to his feet, ran shouting back to camp meeting, with the minister panting after him.

The old Indian fighter outran his pastor, and when Mr. Finley reached his congregation, the other had gathered a great crowd about him, and, with a glowing face, was telling the news of his conversion.

"I thought this was to be a secret," called out Mr. Finley, "and here, General, you are proclaiming it to every one."

"It's too glorious to keep," was the reply of Kenton.

He continued a devout and humble Christian for the rest of his life. His voice was remarkably sweet and musical, and he was fond of singing. He took part in many religious exercises and meetings, and entered into the service of his divine Master with the same ardor he had shown in that of his country, during his early and mature manhood.

In 1813, Kenton joined the Kentucky troops under Governor Shelby, with whose family he was a great favorite. He was then nearly threescore years of age, but he was rugged, strong, and as patriotic as ever. He took part in the battle of the Thames, fighting with the same bravery that was natural to him from boyhood.

It was the last engagement in which he bore a hand, and respecting it the following incident is worthy of note:

In the month of May, 1881, Ayres Lefargee, who died at Poplar Plain, Kentucky, was buried at Decatur, Illinois. He was a soldier of the war of 1812, in the fourth regiment of Kentucky troops under Governor Shelby, and was present at the battle of the Thames in which the great Shawanoe chieftain Tecumseh was killed. After the battle he went with Captain Matthews and Simon Kenton to the spot where the chief fell. "Turn the body over," said Kenton, and, upon Lefargee doing so, they found seven bullet-holes in it. Lefargee always claimed that Tecumseh was killed by a soldier named Dave Gealding.

This question has never been satisfactorily settled, though the claim of Colonel Richard M. Johnson seems as good as that of any one. His horse had fallen, and while he was endeavoring to extricate himself, a distinguished looking Indian who, it was claimed by many that knew him, was Tecumseh, made a rush for Colonel Johnson.

"I didn't stop to ask him his name," said Colonel Johnson, when questioned about it afterwards, "for there was no time for explanations, but I fired, when, had I waited five seconds longer, he would have brained me with his upraised tomahawk."

The war of 1812 finished, Kenton returned to the obscurity of his humble cabin, where he lived until 1820, when he removed to the headwaters of Mad River, Logan county, Ohio, near the very spot where, many years before, he had been tied to the stake by the Indians, when they condemned him to death.

It seemed impossible for the old pioneer to escape the annoyance of the land-sharpers. He was still the owner of many large mountain tracts of Kentucky, but he was "land poor," in its fullest sense, and these were forfeited for taxes.

Kenton became so worn out, and so distressed by poverty, that in 1824, when nearly seventy years old, he rode to Frankfort, while the Legislature was in session, to petition that body to release these comparatively worthless lands from the claims upon them for unpaid taxes.

The old hunter was clothed in dilapidated garments, and his rickety horse looked so woe-begonethat the wonder was how he could carry such a large man as he was. But when it became known that Simon Kenton was in town, it caused an excitement like that which the arrival of the menagerie and circus excites.

There was no one in the capital of Kentucky who had not heard of the wonderful exploits of Kenton, and the tall handsome figure of the hunter, with his mild prepossessing features, would have attracted attention anywhere. It was hard to believe that this old gentleman with his gentle blue eyes, his soft musical voice, and his humble Christian bearing, was the hurricane-like fighter, who had torn the reeking scalp from the head of the fierce savage, who had run the gauntlet more than once, who had trailed the red Indian through the gloomy depths of the forest and who had lived in the wilderness in storm and sunshine, week after week and month after month, when he never closed his eyes with certainty he would not be awakened for an instant by the crash of the tomahawk as it clove his skull in twain.

But this was Simon Kenton, and the crowds began to gather. General Thomas Fletcher recognized him and donned him in a good respectable suit of clothing. Then he was taken to the Capitol and placed in the Speaker's chair, where the multitude, in which were the legislators and the most prominent citizens, filed through the building, and were introduced to the great adventurer, who smilingly shook their hands, exchanged a few pleasant words, and blushed like a school boy.

It was the proudest day of Simon Kenton's life, and he had every reason to look back to it with delight, for it resulted in substantial benefit to him.

His presence called up so vividly the great services he had rendered the State, and the burning injustice he had suffered, that the legislators at once released all his lands from the tax claims, and shortly after, through the exertions of Judge Burnet and General Vance, of Congress, a pension of two hundred and forty dollars a year was obtained for the old hero, who was thus secured against want for the remainder of his life.

Kenton now lived a quiet life, serene and hopeful, and quietly contemplating the end which he knew was close at hand. He was held in the greatest respect and the strongest affection by his numerous friends, while Kentucky itself felt a pride in the brave hunter, scout and pioneer.

It will be remembered by the reader, that on the 4th of November, 1782, Simon Kenton became a party to an agreement of singular and romantic interest.

During the expedition of General Clark against the Indian towns, Kenton as usual acted as guide to the army, which numbered fifteen hundred men. On the return of the force, the pioneers which composed it came to a halt, opposite the Licking, and held a conference. Captain McCracken, of the Kentucky Light Horse, had received a slight wound in the arm while fighting, and which caused him little concern at the time. But a virulent mortification had set in, and it became evident to all thathe had but a short time to live. At his suggestion, Colonel Floyd brought forward the resolution by which the pioneers who might survive agreed to meet on that same spot, a half century later, to talk over old times.

The meeting was held in the unbroken wilderness, abounding with its game and with the fierce red man; and the pioneers were in the flush and vigor of young manhood, with many years of hard, perilous service before them. They all felt that such as should be spared to see the closing of the half century before them, would witness changes and developments in their beloved country, such as awed the imagination when it attempted to grasp it.

On that lonely spot, where McCracken closed his eyes and was laid mournfully away in his last long rest by his brave brother pioneers, was the heart of the magnificently growing West. His grave was in sight of the beautiful Queen city, and the howling wilderness now blossomed as the rose.

As the semi-centennial approached, it was looked forward to with a strong interest by the survivors, who were found to be quite numerous. The lives which these hardy pioneers led were conducive to longevity, provided always the wild Indians afforded the opportunity and failed to cut them off in their prime.

"And tall and strong and swift of foot are they,Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions,Because their thoughts had never been the preyOf care or gain; the green woods were their portions;No sinking spirits told them they grew gray,No fashions made them apes of her distortions.Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles,Though very true, were not yet used for trifles."Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers,And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil.Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers;Corruption could not make their hearts her soil;The lust which stings, the splendor which encumbers,With the free foresters divide no spoil;Serene, not sullen, were the solitudesOf this unsighing people of the woods."

"And tall and strong and swift of foot are they,Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions,Because their thoughts had never been the preyOf care or gain; the green woods were their portions;No sinking spirits told them they grew gray,No fashions made them apes of her distortions.Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles,Though very true, were not yet used for trifles."Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers,And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil.Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers;Corruption could not make their hearts her soil;The lust which stings, the splendor which encumbers,With the free foresters divide no spoil;Serene, not sullen, were the solitudesOf this unsighing people of the woods."

"And tall and strong and swift of foot are they,Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions,Because their thoughts had never been the preyOf care or gain; the green woods were their portions;No sinking spirits told them they grew gray,No fashions made them apes of her distortions.Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles,Though very true, were not yet used for trifles.

"Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers,And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil.Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers;Corruption could not make their hearts her soil;The lust which stings, the splendor which encumbers,With the free foresters divide no spoil;Serene, not sullen, were the solitudesOf this unsighing people of the woods."

As the semi-centennial approached, Simon Kenton, who had passed his fourscore, was deeply solicitous lest he should not be able to be present. He was desirous that every survivor should be at the gathering, and published an address in which he said:

"Fellow Citizens:—Being one of the first, after Colonel Daniel Boone, who aided in the conquest of Kentucky and the West, I am called upon to address you. My heart melts on such an occasion; I look forward to the contemplated meeting with melancholy pleasure; it has caused tears to flow in copious showers. I wish to see once more before I die, my few surviving friends. My solemn promise, made fifty years ago, binds me to meet them. I ask not for myself; but you may find in our assembly some who have never received any pay or pension, who have sustained the cause of their country equal to any other service, and who in the decline of their life are poor. Then, you prosperous sons of the West, forget not those old and gray-headed veterans on this occasion; let them return to their families with some little manifestations of your kindness to cheer their hearts."I may add my prayer: may kind Heaven grant us a clear sky, fair and pleasant weather, a safe journey, and a happy meeting and a smile upon us and our families, and bless us and our nation on the approaching occasion."SIMON KENTON."Urbana, Ohio, 1832."

"Fellow Citizens:—Being one of the first, after Colonel Daniel Boone, who aided in the conquest of Kentucky and the West, I am called upon to address you. My heart melts on such an occasion; I look forward to the contemplated meeting with melancholy pleasure; it has caused tears to flow in copious showers. I wish to see once more before I die, my few surviving friends. My solemn promise, made fifty years ago, binds me to meet them. I ask not for myself; but you may find in our assembly some who have never received any pay or pension, who have sustained the cause of their country equal to any other service, and who in the decline of their life are poor. Then, you prosperous sons of the West, forget not those old and gray-headed veterans on this occasion; let them return to their families with some little manifestations of your kindness to cheer their hearts.

"I may add my prayer: may kind Heaven grant us a clear sky, fair and pleasant weather, a safe journey, and a happy meeting and a smile upon us and our families, and bless us and our nation on the approaching occasion.

"SIMON KENTON.

"Urbana, Ohio, 1832."

The year 1832 will be recognized as the terrible cholera season, when the pestilence smote the land and the whole country was in mourning. Men shrank appalled as the multitudes sank on their right and left, and business for the time was paralyzed by the awful scourge which swept from one end of the land to the other.

Cincinnati was shrouded in deepest gloom by the ravages of the fearful disease, yet when the anniversary came round a large number of the old pioneers met, and the Corporation voted them a dinner.

General Simon Kenton, in spite of his anxiety to be present, was unable to appear, owing to his feebleness and indisposition of body. His absence was greatly mourned, for he would have been the prince of all that noble band, could his venerable form have appeared among them.

With Kenton the sunset of life was as quiet and serene as the close of a summer day. In the month of April, 1836, he quietly died in his home, surrounded by his affectionate family, friends and neighbors, and supported by the sublime faith of the meek, devout Christian, who joyfully approaches the dark river and launches out for the other shore.

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