OHIO STATEWIDE FILES - HISTORY: Chapter 10 (Abbott, John S. C., 1875)
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			Chapter X
		The Indians of the Ohio Valley
   
   The British government had sent its agents to all the Indian tribes, to 
enlist the savages against the colonists. The Americans sent Benjamin Frank-
lin to Paris, to secure, if possible, the aid of France in favor of his 
countrymen. Dr. Franklin wrote an article for the American Remembrance, 
which, in that day, exerted a very powerful influence, in both Europe and 
America. It purported to be a letter from a British officer to the Governor
of Canada, accompanying a present of eight packages of scalps of the col-
onists, which he had received from the chief of the Seneca tribe. As a very 
important part of the history of the times, the letter should be recorded.
It was as follows:

   "May it Please Your Excellency:
	"At the request of Seneca Chief, I hereby send to your Excellency, 
under the care of James Hoyd, eight packages of scalps, cured, dried, hooped, and painted with all the triumphal marks, of which the
following is the invoice and explanation:
   "No. 1.  Containing forty-three scalps of Congress soldiers, killed in 
different skirmishes. These are stretched on black hoops, four inches in 
diameter. The inside of the skin is painted red, with a small black spot, to 
note their being killed with bullets; the hoops painted red, the skin paint-
ed brown, and marked with a hoe; a black circle all around, to denote their 
being surprised in the night; and a black hatchet in the middle, signifying 
their being killed with that weapon.
   "No. 2.  Containing ninety-eight of farmers killed in their houses; hoops 
red, figure of a hoe, to mark their profession; great white circle and sun, 
to shoe they were surprised in the day time; a little red foot to show they 
stood upon their defense, and died fighting for their lives and families.
   "No. 3.  Containing ninety-seven of farmers; hoops green to show they 
were killed in the fields; a large white circle, with a little round mark on 
it, for a sun, to show it was in the day time; black bullet mark on some, a 
hatchet mark on others.
   "No. 4.  Containing one hundred and two of farmers, mixture of several of 
the marks above; only eighteen marked with a little yellow flame, to denote 
their being of prisoners burnt alive, after being scalped; their nails 
pulled out by the roots, and other torturments. One of these latter being 
supposed to be an American clergyman, his band being fixed to the hook of 
his scalp. Most of the farmers appear, by the hair, to have been young or 
middle aged men, there being but sixty-seven very gray heads among them all, 
which makes the service more essential.
   "No. 5.  Containing eighty-eight scalps of women; hair long, braided in 
the Indian fashion, to show they were mothers, hoops blue, skin yellow 
ground, with little red tadpoles, to represent, by way of triumph, the tears 
of grief occasioned to their relatives; a black scalping knife or hatchet at 
the bottom to mark their being killed by those instruments. Seventeen others, 
hair very gray, black hoops, plain brown color, no marks but the short club 
or cassetete, to show they were knocked down dead, or had their brains beat 
out.
   "No. 6.  Containing one hundred and ninety-three boys' scalps of various 
ages. Small green hoops, whitish ground on the skin, with red tears in the 
middle, and black marks, knife, hatchet, or club, as their death happened.
   "No. 7.  Containing two hundred and eleven girls' scalps, big and little; 
small yellow hoops, white ground tears, hatchet, scalping knife.
   "No. 8.  This package is a mixture of all the varieties above mentioned, 
to the number of one hundred and twenty-two, with a box of birch bark, con-
taining twenty-nine little infants' scalps, of various sizes; small white 
hoops, white ground, to show that they were nipped out the their mothers' 
wombs. With these packs, the chiefs send to your Excellency the following 
speech delivered by Conicogatchie, in council, interpreted by the elder 
Moore, the trader, and taken down by me in writing:
   "Father, - We send you here with many scalps, that you may see we are not 
idle friends. We wish you to send these scalps to the great king, that he 
may regard them and be refreshed; and that he may see our faithfulness in 
destroying his enemies, and be convinced that his presents have not been 
made to an ungrateful people," etc.
   This document was a true representation of the nature of the conflict 
which the government of Great Britain was waging against its revolted colon-
ies. There was not the slightest exaggeration to this. All alike were com-
pelled to admit its truthfulness. The impression which it consequently pro-
duced throughout the courts of Europe was very profound.
   It should be remembered that at the time of which we are now writing, 
about one hundred years ago, the names of Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Indiana, 
were quite unknown as designations of states. The whole vast Valley of the 
Ohio west of the Alleghenies, to the head waters of the streams flowing both 
from the north and the south, was a wilderness, almost entirely uninhabited 
by white men. It was a sublime wilderness, of apparently boundless extent, 
upon most of whose wonders of forests, prairies and rivers, no white man's 
eye had ever gazed. South of the Ohio, in what is now Kentucky, a few white 
settlers, following the adventurous footsteps of Daniel Boone, had reared 
their block-houses at three points only - Boonesborough, Harrod's Station 
and Logan's Fort. North of the Ohio, in the region now embraced in that 
magnificent state, there was probably not a single settlement. The few trad-
ing posts which had been established at the mouths of several of the rivers 
had been abandoned. But the numerous and powerful tribes clustered in the 
valleys of the Great and Little Miami, the Scioto, to the Muskingum and the 
Sandusky, were employed by the British government, to march hundreds of 
miles to assail the colonial settlements, wherever they could be found, 
alongthe western frontiers of Virginia and Pennsylvania, and especially 
those in the region of Kentucky.
   Consequently, as a measure of defense, colonial troops were frequently 
sent into the heart of Ohio, to check the incursions, and weaken the power 
of the savages, by attacking them in their own homes. The narrative of these 
bloody conflicts constitutes an essential part of the history of the state.
   Immediately after Lord Dunmore's War, the colonial authorities made
strenuous endeavors to induce all the Indian tribes in the West to remain 
neutral during the conflict of the Revolution. This war was already assuming 
very terrible proportions. We have already alluded to the successful efforts 
of the British Government to enlist the warriors of the six nations on their 
side. This case illustrates all the rest. The circumstances were as follows:
   Early in June, 1776, General Schuyler, duly authorized by the colonial
government, met the chiefs and warriors of the Six Nations in a grand council
at German Flats. After many very imposing ceremonies and eloquent speeches,
the pipe of peace was smoked, a treaty was formed, and the Indians stipula-
ted to observe a strict neutrality in the impending conflict. About a year
after this, in 1777, the British Government sent commissioners to each of 
these tribes requesting their chiefs and warriors to meet in a grand coun-
cil at Oswego, on the southern shores of Lake Ontario. We give an account
of the proceedings of this council as described by the distinguished British
traveler, Mr. Buckingham, in his "Travels in America." He quotes from a nar-
rative, in which he pronounces to be of unquestionable historical truthful-
ness.
   "The council convened, and the British commissioners informed the chiefs,
that the object in calling a council of the Six Nations, was to engage their
assistance in subduing the rebels who had risen up against the good king, 
their master, and were about to rob him of a great part of his possessions.
The commissioners added, that they would reward the Indians for all their 
services. The chiefs then informed the commissioners of the nature and ex-
tent of the treaty, into which they had entered with the people of the 
States the year before; informing them also that they should not viable it
now by taking up the hatchet against them.
   "The commissioners continued their entreaties without success, until they
addressed their avarice and their appetites. They told the Indians that the
people of the States were few in number, and easily subdued; and that, on 
account of their disobedience to the king, they justly merited all the pun-
ishment which white men and Indians could inflict upon them. They added that
the king was rich and powerful, both in subjects and money; that his men 
were as numerous as the sands on the lake shore; that if the Indians would
assist in the war until the clost, as the friends of the king, they should
never want for money or goods."
   These savage chieftains and warriors disregarded their stipulated neu-
trality, and entered into a treaty with the British commissioners, for abun-
dant rewards, many of which were already before their eyes, and others still
more alluring were promised for the future. They agreed to assail the colo-
nists with tomahawk and scalping knife till the war should end.
   The commissioners were delighted with their success. They immediately 
presented to each Indian warrior a suit of clothes, a brass kettle, a gun, a
tomahawk, a scalping knife, and one piece of gold. They also promised a 
bounty for every scalp which should be brought in.
   These demoniac warriors immediately entered upon a career of devastation
and blood, against men, women, boys, girls, and even unborn babes, whose 
horrors no imagination can conceive. Inspired by British gold and British 
rum, they swept with flame and blood the lovely valleys of the Wyoming, the
Cherry, the Mohawk and the Susquehanna.
   While his majesty's government was perpetrating such crimes in the north,
Sir John Stewart was sent to rouse the Cherokees to a similar war against 
the frontiers of Virginia and the two Carolinsa. We hesitate in recording
these fiend-like atrocities of the British government. But history would be
false to herself in spreading any veil over such crimes.
   It was thus that the flame of Indian war was simultaneously lighted up, 
over all the region west of the Allegheny mountains. Wherever a settler had
reared his lovely hut in the wilderness, he was soon to be surrounded by a 
gang of yelling savages. Fortunate was he if he and his family could perish
in the flames of his own dwelling. If any of them were taken alive, they 
were probably reserved for the most awful of conceivable deaths, torture by
the Indians.
   Daniel Boone, one of the most heroic of the pioneers of the wilderness, 
had formed a small colony at Boonesborough in Kentucky. The little settle-
ment consisted of twenty six men, four women, and four or five boys and 
girls of various ages. It was surrounded with palisades, with strong block-
houses at the corners, arranged with loop holes for defense. Daniel Boone 
was a very remarkable man, combining almost feminine delicacy of sensibili-
ties, with heroism, fortitude and courage, never surpassed.
   A powerful war party of the savages on the Little Miami River and Scioto, 
amounting to several hundred in number, was organized to march down to the 
Ohio River, cross in their canoes, steal silently through the forest upon
Boonesborough, and utterly destroy it. Colonel Boone, himself, was absent 
from the fort a few miles, with a few men well armed, making salt, of which
the garrison stood in pressing need. He was at a place called Salt Licks, on
the Licking River. The salt was obtained by evaporating the water, boiling
it in large kettles.
   Colonel Boone had succeeded in obtaining a small reinforcement to his
garrison, so that he took with him thirty-two well armed men, on this enter-
prise. It was one of the boldest of adventures, for they had to thread their 
way through the wilderness, a distance of nearly one hundred miles, to reach
the Salt Springs. It was certain that the powerful tribes on the Miami and
Scioto, would have their scouts out, and would learn of this government. This 
would lead them, not only to attack the weakened garrison, but to surround
and to cut off, if possible, the party at the Springs. They consequently
worked night and day, never allowing themselves to be for one moment beyond
the grasp of their rifles.
   The news of this enterprise speedily reached the Indians, and they imme-
diately made vigorous preparations to attack both the fort and the detach-
ment at the Licks. Daniel Boone, like Kit Carson at a later day, was feared, 
respected and beloved by the Indians. He was universally known by the warri-
ors, and had ever been treated them with courtesy and condsideration. They 
had no personal antagonism to him. The leading chiefs were very anxious to 
take him alive. They feared his prowess, and they probably hoped that he, 
like Simon Girty, might be incorporated into their tribe.
   A party of more than one hundred picked warriors, was immediately sent
forward, from old Chilicothe, on the Little Miami, to capture the detachment
on the Licks, while another party advanced upon Boonesborough. On the morning
onf the 7th of February, Colonel Boone had gone a little distance into the 
forest, in search of game for his men. Suddenly he found himself surrounded
by more than one hundred savages. Being exceedingly fleet of foot, he endeav-
ored to escape. But the whole band was after him, and they soon ran him down.
Daniel Boone was never depressed by disaster. He took everything good nat-
uredly. He knew many of his captors, and the cheerfulness with which he sub-
mitted to his fate, quite won their kindness. They promised him that if the 
party at the Springs would surrender without resistance, they should meet
with no unkind treatment.
   The Indians knew full well that should these well armed white men make a 
desparate fight, many of their own warriors would inevitably fall by their
unerring bullets. Boone, who was almost supernaturally brave, was greatly
perplexed. Had he been with his men, he would have fought to the last gasp.
His presence would invigorate them to the most heroic, and possibly success-
ful defense. But taken by surprise, deprived of their leader, and surrounded
by veteral warriors, three of four to one, and these armed with the best of 
rifles, provided with an ample supply of ammunition furnished by the British
Government, their case seemed hopeless.
   Colonel Boone had sent three or four of his men back to Boonesborough, 
laden with salt. There were therefore only twenty-seven at the Licks. Should
they be captured after a desparate resistance, which had resulted in the fall
of many of the warriors, the prisoners would all certainly be put to death
by the most dreadful tortures.
   Under these circumstances, Colonel Boone wisely decided upon a surrender.
As a humane man he could not do otherwise. Boone having once given his word, 
the Indian chiefs had implicit confidence in it. It was a curious spectacle
to see these hundred plumed and painted warriors, silently following their
captive through the forest, towards the camp of the white men. The trust of
these savages in the honor of their prisoner was so extraordinary, that they
allowed him to leave them, and go to his men in the camp, to explain to them
the necessity of the surrender. They all saw the necessity and laid down 
their arms.
   The victors were so elated with this great achievement, which had been
accomplished without the loss of a single warrior, that they immediately
set out with their captives for one of their headquarters, on the Little
Miami River. This beautiful little stream is about eighty miles in length, 
and flows through a rich, warm and fertile valley, about twenty miles in 
breadth. It enters the Ohio River only a few miles above the mouth of the 
Licking. Several miles up the Valley of the Little Miami there was a cele-
brated Indian village called Old Chilicothe. The exultant savages led their
prisoners by a rapid march to the Ohio River, crossed the broad stream in
their birch canoes, and ascended the beautiful valley, through clustered
Indian villages, in a triumphal march to their central rendezvous. It seems
that there were two Indian towns called Chilicothe - one on the Little Miami
and one on the Scioto.
   Daniel Boone in the account which he gives of these transactions, writes:
   "The generous usage the Indians had promised before my capitulation was
afterwards fully complied with. We proceeded with them as prisoners to Old
Chilicothe, the principle Indian town on Little Miami. Here we arrived, after
an uncomfortable journey, in very severe weather, on the eighteenth of Feb-
urary, and received as good treatment as prisoners could expect from sava-
ges. I and ten of my men were conducted by forty Indians to Detroit, where
we arrived on the thirteenth day, and were treated by Governor Hamilton, the 
British commander at that post, with great humanity. During our travels the
Indians entertained me well; and their affection for me was so great that
they utterly refused to leave me there with the others, although the Gover-
nor offered them one hundred pounds sterling for me on purpose to give me a 
parole to go home.
    "Several English gentlemen there, being sensible of my adverse fortune, 
and touched with human sympathy, generously offered a friendly supply for my
wants, which I refused with many thanks for their kindness, adding 'that I
never expected it would be in my power to recompense such unmerited gener-
ousity.'"
   The British officers at Detroit were fully aware that their Indian allies
were not united to them by any ties of affection whatever. They could pay
higher bribes to the chieftains than the colonists could pay. Still they 
were ever fearful that the capricious savages might desert their cause, and 
they were placing great dependence upon the terrors of the tomahawk and the
scalping knife to force the colonists back to subjection. Under these cir-
cumstances they could not venture to do anything which would be displeasing
to these wayward chieftains.
   There was much in the character of Daniel Boone which was peculiarly cal-
culated to win the admiration of the Indians. His gentle demeanor, his un-
varying cheerfulness, and his marvelous bravery, won their highest commen-
dation. They all admitted that he was more than the equal of their most 
accomplished warriors on the hunting ground. Many of these chiefs fully 
appreciated the vast superiority of the white man on the war path, and they 
would gladly adopt Boone into their tribe as one of their chiefs.
   The party spent ten days at Detroit, where they disposed, for a ransom, 
of all their captives excepting Colonel Boone. They they returned, by a 
weary journey of hundreds of miles, to their villages on the Little Miami.
The country they then traversed, now so full of wealth, activity and all the
appliances of the highest civilization, was then an almost unbroken wilder-
ness of silent prairies and lonely forests, only occasionally trodden by 
small hunting bands. Having reached the Indian villages, which, far removed
from the clamor of the war, were reposing on the banks of this lovely stream,
Colonel Boone was adopted by a chief of the Shawanese tribe, whose name was
Blackfish. The Colonel in his autobiography, in the following words alludes
to this event:
   "At Chilicothe, I spent my time as comfortably as I could expect. I was
adopted, according to their custom, into a family where I became a son, and
had great share in the affection of my new parents, brothers, sisters and 
friends. I was exceedingly familiar and friendly with them, always appearing
as cheerful and satisfied as possible, and they put great confidence in me.
I often went hunting with them, and frequently gained their applause for my
activity at their shooting matches. I was careful not to excel them when
shooting, for no people are more envious than they in their sports.
   "I could observe in their countenances and gestures, the greatest ex-
pressions of joy when they excelled me; and when the reverse happened, of 
envy. The Shawanese King took great notice of me, and treated me with pro-
found respect, and entire friendship, often trusting me to hunt at my liber-
ty. I frequently returned with the spoils of the woods, and as often presen-
ted some of what I had taken to him expressive of my duty to my sovereign. 
My food and lodging were in common with them. Not so good, indeed, as I could
desire, but necessity makes everything acceptable."
   The spirit which Boone manifested, while thus held for months in almost
hopeless captivity, was not influenced by policy alone. He was fully aware
of the outrages which the Indians had endured from unprinciples white men, 
and he could hardly blame the savages for seeking revenge. He had himself 
always treated them, not only with the strictest justice, but with kindness. 
The generous treatment he was receiving in return called forth his gratitude.
Naturally endowede with a remarkable placid disposition, which virtue he had
very carefully cultivated, he was never known to complain or worry, even un-
der the most adverse circumstances.
   He could not, however, forget his home and the beloved wife and children
whom he had left. He was, therefore, continually on the alert to avail him-
self of any opportunity to escape which might occur.
   The ceremony of his adoption into the tribe, and as the son of one of the
chiefs, was severe and painful. By a very tedious operation every hair of 
his head was plucked out, one by one, excepting a small tuft, three or four
inches in diameter on the crown. This was called the scalp lock. It was a
point of honor with the warrior to leave it, that, should he fall in battle, 
his antagonist might have the opportunity of bearing away this trophy of his
bravery.
   The scalp lock was like the banner of an army, the pledge of victory. The
hair was allowed to grow very long, and was quite gaudily decorated with rib-
bons and feathers. After the head of Boone was thus denuded of all its super-
fluous hairs, and the scalp lock carefully dressed, he was taken to the ri-
ver and very thoroughly scrubbed, that all the white blood might be washed
out of him. His face was then painted in the most imposing style of an In-
dian brave. He was then led to the council lodge. The chiefs and the warriors
were then assembled in a full dress. One of the leading chiefs then addresses
him in a long and formal harangue, in which he expatiated upon the honor thus
conferred, and upon the correspondening duties expected of him.
   After this transformation it would require an eagle eye to distinguish the 
adopted son from a native of the tribe. The Indians, however, notwithstand-
ing the kindness with which they treated their captive, seemed to be con-
scious that it must be his desire to return to his friends. Though they had
sufficient delicacy of feeling not to apprise him of their suspicions, they
adopted very careful precautions to prevent his escape.
   Though it was one hundred and sixty miles from the Indian village, on the 
Little Miami, to his home at Boonesborough, such a skillful hunter as Boone,
with his rifle and ammunition, would find no difficulty in supplying himself
with ample game by the way. But if deprived of his rifle, or of the necessary
ammunition, he would almost inevitably starve.
   The Indians were, therefore, very careful not to allow him more powder and
shot than were just sufficient for his daily hunting excursions. As he never
missed his aim, they always knew, by the game he brought in, just how many 
times he had discharged his rifle.
   But the white man can outwit the Indian. Boone cut his bullets in halves, 
and, creeping very near his game, used but half charges of powder. Thus he
gradually accumulated quite an amount of ammunition, which he concealed in 
the hollow of a tree. His plans for an immediate escape were, however, frus-
trated.
   The Scioto, as we have mentioned, runs through the heart of Ohio, in a 
line nearly parallel with the Little Miami, and about sixty miles east of 
that stream. Upon one of the branches of the Scioto, there were some salt
springs, or licks, to which the Indians were in the habit of resorting to 
make salt. Early in June, a party of the Indians set out for these licks. 
They took Colonel Boone with them, as he was perfectly acquainted with the 
process, was a very energetic workman, and would be more sage from escape
with them than if left behind.
   After the absence of a fortnight they returned to the Little Miami with
an ample supply. Here Boone found, much to his alarm, that during his ab-
sence, a war party of four hundred and fifty fo the most distinguished braves
of the tribe had been organized to march, under the lead of British officers,
to attack Boonesborough. His wife and children were, as he supposed, there.
He knew that the garrison would not yield without a desparate fight. He knew
that such a force of warriors, guided by British intelligence, would in all
probability take the fort. He knew that the savages, maddened by the battle,
would massacre, without discrimination, every one - men, women and children,-
taken within the palisades.
   Colonel Boone was sufficiently acquainted with the Shawanese language to
understand every word which was spoken. Sagaciously, however, he assumed from
moment of his capture, entire ignorance of their speech. Thus he listened to 
all the details of their plan to surprise the fort. It had become to him a
matter of infinite moment to escape from his captivity, and convey to his
friends the tidings of their peril. But the jealous Indians were very wary.
The slightest suspicion of any attempt to escape on his part would expose him
to a vigilance of watchfulness, which it would be impossible for him to elude.
So skillfully did he conceal his feelings, and with such apparent eagerness
did he aid in all their military operations, that the Indians remitted even 
their ordinary vigilance.
   Just after the break of day, in one ot the most lovely mornings of the
middle of June, Colonel Boone left the lodge of his adopted father to go out
on his usual hunt. His service in bringing in game had become unusually im-
portant, as nearly all the warriors of the tribe were engrossed in prepara-
tions for the great enterprise. The British officers had enlisted about a 
dozen French Canadians in their service, and the French and English banners
were blended with those of the savages in readiness for the march. The In-
dians had allowed Boone ammunition for the hunt of only one day. As soon as
he had entered the forest, beyond the sight of the crowd of savage warriors
clustered in the village, he hastened to his little magazine in the hollow
of a tree, and filled his pockets with the ammunition which he had so care-
fully stored away there. He then commenced his rapid flight, with sinews as
tireless as if made of steel, down the Valley of the Miami towards the Ohio
River. Many hours would elapse before the slightest suspicion would arise of
his attempt to escape.
   But he knew that the moment his flight was suspected four hundred and fifty
warriors would be in hot pursuit after him. Many of them would be mounted on
fleet horses, and all of them were swift runners. They would all be breath-
ing vengeance, for they deemed it one of the most atrocious and unpardonable
of crimes, for an adopted son to desert his tribes. If captured, the infur-
iated Indians would wreak upon him all their vengeance. His death by the 
most cruel torture was inevitable. It is, however, not probable that these
thoughts seriously disturbed the equanamity of Colonel Boone. He was always
hopeful, and never yielded to desponding presentiments. An unwavering trust
in the protection of God seemed to sustain and soothe him in the darkest 
hours.
   He was then forty-three years of age. In power of endurance, in skill in
threading the forest and in eluding his foes, there was no Indian of any 
tribe who surpassed him. It was often said that he had never experienced the
emotion of fear. Though four hundred and fifty veteran warriors and athletic
young braves would crowd the Valley of the Miami, like bloodhounds baying 
after their victim, he, in his great modesty, seems to have been quite in-
conscious of the sublimity, peril and grandeur of the achievement he had
undertaken. In his autobiography he alludes to the enterprise, only in the
following words:
   "On the sixteenth of June, before sunrise, I departed from Old Chilicothe
in the most secret manner. I arrived at Boonesborough rough on the twentieth,
after a journey of one hundred and sixty miles, during which I had one meal."
   It was, of course, necessary for Colonel Boone, as soone as he was out of
sight of the Little Miami Village, to fly with the utmost speed, that he might
put as great a distance as possible between himself and the Indians before
they could commence the pursuit. He subsequently learned that it was not till
late in the afternoon that his flight was suspected. The greatest agitation, 
and evern consternation, was then manifested in the camp. Should he escape
and carry to Boonesborough the tidings of the contemplated foray, all their
plans would be frustrated.
   Immediately a large party of the swiftest runners and keenest hunters were
put upon his track, while the rest were to follow the next day. But Boone
had already put many leagues between himself and his foes. Still, he dared
not fire a gun or kindle a fire, or, in the exhaustion of his flight, take
an hour for sleep. Onward and still onward he pressed, by night as by day, 
till at length he reached the Ohio Riveer. The majestic stream was swollen 
by spring floods, and it was now rolling in a swift and turbid current half 
a mile in width, filling the bed of the stream from shore to shore with al-
most fathomless waters. Thus far Colonel Boone had appeased his hunger with 
a few cuts of dried venison, with which he had secretly provided himself.
   He now stood upon the banks of the stream and looked with great anxiety 
upon the wild rush of the waters. Though experienced in woodcraft, he was 
not an expert swimmer. It seemed impossible for him to cross the river. Un-
less he could cross it, his capture was inevitable. As he was rapidly follow-
ing up the stream, thrying in vain to form some plan of escape, he came pro-
videntially upon an old canoe, which had drifted among the bushes upon the
shore. There was a large hole at one end, and it was nearly full of mud and
water. He succeeded in bailing out the water and in plugging up the hole, 
and, though at the imminent peril of foundering, paddled his way across the
stream. Then, with the broad Ohio between himself and his pursuers, he ven-
tured to indulge a little in the luxury of food and sleep. Shooting a turkey,
he kindled a fire and cooked it, and feasted upon the delicious viands with
the appetite of a half-famished man. He then found a covert, where even the
keen eye of the Indian would not search him out, and indulged in a few hours
of sweet sleep. This was the only real meal, and the only refreshing sleep,
he enjoyed during his flight.
   At the close of the fifth day he entered the little gate of the fortress
at Boonesborough, where he was received as one risen from the dead. He had
been absent nearly six months, and as no tidings had been received from him,
not even as to the circumstances attending his capture, all had supposed he 
was no longer living. Much to his disappointment, he found neither wife nor
children at Boonesborough. Mrs. Boone, who seems to have been a very esti-
matable woman, despairing of ever seeing her husband again, had taken her 
children, and returned to her father's house in North Carolina. It was a long,
dreary and perilous journey through the wilderness, but it is gratifying to 
record that it was accomplished in safety.
   Colonel Boone found the fort, as he had expected, in a very bad state of
defense. But his presence and the tidings which he brought infused new ener-
gies into the little community. Every available hand, of men, women and boys,
was put to work, night and day, to strengthen the defenses. Everything was 
done, which could devise, to repel and assault from an overpowering band of
savages, armed with English rifles and led by British officers.
   In ten days Boonesborough had made all the preparations which were poss-
ble for the dreadful onset. The heroic Boone then - acting upon the principle
of Napoleon I., that, in a defensive war, it was often the best policy to 
assume the offensive, and that when a battle was inevitable, it should be
fought, if possible, on the enemy's soil - selected a small party of but
nineteen men and commenced a bold march to the very homes of the Indians.
   Boonesborough was in the heart of Kentucky, on the Kentucky River, nearly
two hundred miles, as one follows the windings of the stream, from where it
enters the Ohio. By marching directly through the wilderness in a line due
North, leaving the Kentucky River far away, in its serpentine flow, on the
left, the Ohio was reached, opposite the mouth of the Little Miami, after a
journey of about one hundred miles. Much of the route led along the unbroken
solitude. Not a single settler's cabin cheered the gloom, and not even an 
Indian village was found on the way. The region was regarded by many tribes 
as common huntingground, which no one tribe was allowed to appropriate to 
itself.
   Through such a wilderness this band of heroes commenced its march, to 
meet in deadly battle and in their strongholds a British army of nearly five
hundred savages. One of the greatest of captains has said: "An army of deer
led by a lion is better than on army of lions led by a deer." But here was 
an army of lions led by the most royal men of them all. On they eagerly 
pressed, over hills and through valleys, wading morasses and fording streams,
until they reached the Ohio. How they crossed the broad and rapid river we
know not. But they did cross, and soon found themselves in the Valley of the
Miami.
   Silently, with moccasined feet and in single file, this little army of 
one score men entered the country of their foes. They cautionly avoided the
trails leading along the valley, which the Indian's foot, for countless gen-
erations, had trodden smooth. Should they meet a single Indian by the way, 
he, by rapid flight, would convey the tidings which would bring down the 
warriors in overwhelming numbers upon them. Their only hope of success was 
in striking their foes by surprise.
   Creeping cautiously along they had arrived within about four miles of an
Indian village called Paint Creek, where they intended to make their first
attack, when suddenly they came upon a band of thirty savage warriors, who 
were descending the valley to join other bands on the march to Boonesborough.
Instantly Boone ordered the charge. The savages, taken by surprise, and
supposing that there must be an army of white men, who had thus ventured in-
to their country, fled precipitately, leaving behind them three horses and 
all their baggage. Two of their warriors were shot dead and two others woun-
ded. The white men suffered no loss.
   Colonel Boone, as cautious as he was brave, sent forward two swift runners
to spy out, from some covert, what was going on in Paint Creek. If the main
body of the army were assembled there, ready to rush upon him, his position
would be perilous indeed. His only possible safety would be found in the most
hasty flight. This was so manifest that he at once commenced slowly a re-
treat.
   The runners soon returned with the tidings that there was a large army of
warriors at Paint Creek, and that they all were in a state of great commo-
tion, preparing for some immediate movement. Fearing that their retreat might
be cut off, these hardy men commenced a very rapid flight back to the fort,
which they reached after an absence of but seven days. Had they succeeded in
entering the valley by surprise, they could have swept its whole extent with
desolation never to be forgotten. Indian runners would have hastened to 
Boonesborough to apprise the warriors of the invasion. This would have ren-
dered it necessary for the savages to abandon the siege and hasten back for
the protection of their own homes. As it was, much good was accomplished. It
inspired the savages with new ideas of valor and strength of the white men.
It also greatly emboldened the garrison, and gave them the important in-
telligence that their foes were on the march.
   On the eighth of August, the Indian army arrived. It consisted of four 
hundred and forty-four privates. Of these, all were savages excepting eleven,
who were Canadians that had enlisted in the service of the English. They 
were commanded by a Captain Duquesne. With considerable military pomp they
approached the fort - the banners of France and England flying side by side, 
and the savages marching beneath their proud pennons, decorated with scalps.
As soon as Captain Duquesne had posted his troops, so as to command all the 
important points, he sent a flag of truce, demanding, in the name of his
Britannic Majesty, the immediate surrender of the fortress and all its in-
mates.
   Colonel Boone requested two days to consider the question. As escape was
impossible, and it was certain that no reinforcements could arrive, and since
the rest of two days would prepare the savage warriors for a more furious
onset, the request was granted. Colonel Boone, writing of this event, says:
   "It was now a critical period with us. We were a small number in the gar-
rison. A powerful army was before our walls, whose appearance proclaimed 
inevitable death. Death was preferable to captivity. If taken by storm we 
must inevitably be devoted to destruction. The summons for the surrender was
made on the morning of the eighth. The British commander, impatient of delay.
demanded an answer on the evening of the ninth. It was not deemed expedient
to admit him within the gates, as he might thus spy out the measures which
were adopted for the defense. Knowing, however, that he was dealing with 
civilized men, he approached near enough to the fort to receive his answer
from Colonel Boone himself."
   The heroic commander said to him, "I shall not surrender this fortress, 
while there is a single man left alive to defend it. We laugh at your pre-
parations for an attack, and still we thank you for giving us time to com-
plete our preparations to repel you. You will not take this fort. Our gates
will forever deny you admittance."
   These were very bold words. Captain Duquesne was apprehensive that Colonel
Boone might have some means of defense which he could not overcome. He knew, 
as did every man in the fort, that should the savages take the place by
assault, no earthly power could restrain their fury. Everyone within the 
palisades, men, women and children, would fall beneath their tomahawks, and,
with fiend-like yells, their bloody scalps would be waved in triumph from
their pennon piles. Perhaps this consideration moved the heart of a British
officer, and induced him again to try the influence of diplomacy.
   And still, in the account which we have of these events, he is represent-
ed as contemplating an act of treachery of which we can hardly conceive it
possible that a British officer should be guilty. He represented that it 
would be utterly impossible for him to save the life of a single inmate of 
the fort, should his savage allies take it by violence; but that if he would
come out, with nine of his leading men, they could undoubtedly enter into a 
treaty, binding the garrison not to take any part in the war between the 
colonies and the mother country, which would satisfy Governor Hamilton, of
Detroit, under whose orders he was acting. It will be remembered that Gover-
nor Hamilton knew Colonel Boone, and regarded him with friendly feelings.
Having formed this treaty, Captain Duquesne promised to withdraw his savage
soldiers, and recrossing the Ohio River, to return them peaceably to their
homes in the Valley of the Miami. An account of the results of this proposi-
tion must be reserved for the next chapter.