YALE Ml III ¦ \ 'J ^ _ 'Yy^LU'WJMnYIEI^SIIirY'' Bought with the income of ihe William C. Egleston Fund i91ii J> i s, yi i-S'".i5i: iJ* ''4til' i^M^ '=''!¦ i^i i / .•'a IIS ^ 1 '5?. ^ 7 THE PIONEERS OF THE WEST; OB, LIFE IN THE WOODS. BT W. P. STEICKLAND. WESTWARD THE OOUBSE 07 EUFIBE TAKES ITS WAT. Bishop Berklsy. SEVENTH THOUSAND. 3f£n)^|3crk: CARLTON & PORTER. iSoston: J. P. MAGEE. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, BT W. P. STEICKLAND, lE the Clerk's Offlce ofthe District Court ofthe Southem District of New-Torlc € a wit wis. OHAPTEB PAOZ I.— THE WEST 9 n.— PIONEER EXPLORERS OP THB WEST 21 ra.— THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST il IV.— THB PIONEER SETTLERS 90 v.— THB PIONEER PREACHERS 137 VI.— PIONEER INSTITUTIONS AND PROFESSIONAL MEN. . . . 172 vn.— PIONEER BOATMEN 185 Vin.— THE PROPHET FRANCIS 211 IX.— LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF 225 X.— THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER 246 XI.— INDIAN CAPTIVITY 263 XIL— "THB OLD CHIEF;" OR, THE INDIAN MISSIONARY.... 296 Xra.— THE HERMIT 331 XIV.— PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING 358 XV.— THB SQUATTER FAMILY 371 XVL— THE LOST HUNTER 381 xvn.— THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM 387 Illustrations. PAOB LOG CABDJ 3 MORAVIAN MISSIONARY 26 HUNTERS OP THE WEST 46 PIONEER SETTLERS 91 EMIGRANTS' WAGON 101 PROPHET FRANCIS 210 WYANDOT CHURCH 297 THE HERMIT 830 THE LOST HUNTEB T 880 THE PIONEERS OF THE WEST. CHAPTEE I. THE WEST. The "West and its past history have been a prolific theme. Its early exploration and settlement by the Anglo-Saxon race, whose toils, hardships, and deeds of heroic bravery wiU be the wonder of aU times, have called forth the labors of the most gifted pens, both at home and abroad. Nor is the tbeme yet exhausted. The narratives occasioned by continued investigation and research, grow fresher and more interesting as time rolls on, disclosing more fully the history and romance of the past. The labors of one in this field serve but as an incentive by increasing the aggregate of historic materials for the succeeding labors of others. The pen of Cooper has graphically portrayed the events connected with some of the early settlers pf the 10 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. East, and one of the characters in his tale of the Pio neers, whether real or imaginary, is made to close his days in the West. " Leather Stocking," the renowned hunter, whose rude hut stood not far from the shores of Otsego, and whose rifle sent its unerring death message alike to the heart of a panther, the head of a turkey, a bird on the wing, a loon on the lake, or a hostile Indian.; or who could pierce a fish with his tri-pronged gig eighteen feet below the surface of the water — this same bold and daring hunter, after the settlers had become too numerous for his comfort, and would too often cross his "path in the woods through which he had roamed for upward of half a century, and in which lie had made his home for forty years, sought , a wider and a freer scope in the boundless West. On one occasion, when his young friend Edwards, of "Tork," astonished at his preference for unin habited regions, said to him, in answer to some remarks on this subject, "Woods! do you not call these endless forests woods ?" the hunter replied, " I don't call them woods, when I can lose myself every day of my life in the clearings. The meanest of God's creatures are ndade for some use, and I am formed for the wilderness. Let me go where my soul longs to be again." Thus saying, he shouted to his dogs, that were lying in the grass of the burial- ground, which, contained the ashes of his long-tried THE WEST. 11 and trusty friend, the Mohican, an Indian chief, who "had shared his hut, and fare: "Away, dogs, away ;. you'll be foot-sore;before you see the. end of your journey,;" and' started out upon '.his course. Having passed-the clearing, with a long last wave of bis honest hand he bade adieu tp his friends, and was soon' lost to sight-in the forest, directiiig his hurried steps toward the. setting sun. ' •¦ ¦ According to -present geographical division, the United States are parceled off into separate classes, denominated^' the Easterb, Western, Northern or Hiddle, and Southern. Tlie Northern States are those comprised within tJie limits included in that portion north of Hason^ and Dixon's line, and extending to the Lakes; the Southern, all that lie south of that line;' the Eastern, thos.e which lie along the Atlantic ; but who can tell the localities and define ¦ the ' boundaries of the Western I , what they are, and ^bat they shall be? only that they extend from the foot of the AUeghanies to the great rocky chain that rjses from the trackless' plains and desert lakes, and-^rom thence spreading awa;y over dense, intermihaWe forests, into which the ax of the woodrdan has never-let the light ofthe sim fallj to the far-off Pacific. We shall not confine our sketches to what is now usually as^gned as the limits of the-West. Once the entire- continents of Nprth and South America -frefe 12 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. called the West ; and as the patriot knows no North, or East, or South, so we shall know no West; but from lakes to ocean, and from mountain to mountain, embracing the mighty valley, and aU that lies beyond, we shall feel our pen at liberty to describe the events connected with its pioneer history. Other parts of the country are finished, or nearly so ; but the West is in its infancy, and has just begun its development. No imagination is bold and capa cious enough to grasp its future. There is room sufficient in its wide expanse, and resources enough in its bosom, for the erection and establishment of empires great as the world has ever known. We may refer to its beginnings, and recall the scenes of border life in its once dense, uncultivated forests, and along its mighty rivers, and on its broad plains and almost boundless prairies, where every inch of the pioneer was contested by the native red man, and the wild beasts, which, like him, roamed unfet tered and free through its ec[ually wild forests ; we may tell of the sacrifices, toils, and perils of the back woodsman, in leveling these forests, and clearing and cultivating farms, rearing towns and cities, and found ing institutions of religion and learning; but who shall tell of its future ? What imagination can con ceive, or what pen describe, the scenes that are to rise up and unroll themselves, like a mighty pano rama, before the vision of coming generations ? THE WEST. 13 Not more mysterious was it in its beginning, be wildering the minds of the profoundest archaeologists and ethnologists who. have attempted to read its records in the mounds, fortifications, walls, elevated squares, and covered ways, which are scattered thickly over the land, like the monuments of Egypt; but which, imlike the doomed cities of the Nile, have left no Kosetta stone to decipher their meaning, or afford the slightest clew to their origin or uses, or to the race which has long since passed away. Numer ous books have been written, and authors have ex hausted both their genius and leaming in attempting to fathom the mystery of a race conceming whom the present red man knows nothing. All the different tribes and races inhabiting the West and the South have been questioned, and their traditions from re motest times rehearsed and interpreted; but a bound ary beyond which no tradition or conjecture could pass was invariably reached, forming an impassable barrier, and creating a chasm as -wide between the primitive race and the present, as that which separ ates us from the first ages of mankind before the flood, as it regards time ; but vastly more inexplicable as it regards lineal descent. "Whence came the first inhabitants of the land ? "Who reared those immense and numerous fortifications and temples, the ruins of which only can be seen? Who were they? whence came iihey? and whither did they go? are questions 14 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. alike involved in a mystery deep and profound as the' silence which reigns over the graves where they have been slumbering for a thousand years. They are un known to history, prophecy, or song. No writ, or scroll, or strain, is left among the nations, to tell of their eventful history and fate. Other nations have been blotted from the roU of the living, but have left memorials of their existence which contain records of their history and destiny. Petra, the proud capital of Edom, with its excavated palaces, temples, triumphal arches, and tombs, though the winds of heaven have scattered the very ashes of her dead, has left, -wi-itten on her everlasting rocks, characters that are legible to the traveler after the last of the nation had been buried a thousand years : but where, in all the mounds and fortifications' of this land, can be found a single script to tell of the departed? Huge skulls and giant frames have been plowed up by the hand of civilization; the resting-places of the dead have been invaded by the restless searcli of the anti quarian ; but Decay's effacing hand has swept away every line and trace that would either lead to an identification of the race with any of the world's present inhabitants, or to a knowledge of their won derful history — the more wonderful because of the mystery that enshrouds it. History tells of the Druids, a primitive race who inhabited the island of Britain; and Stonehenge, THE WEST. 15 which gives evidence in its construction of a knowl edge and skiU in mechanical philosophy unknown even to the present age of progress, stands a con firmation strong of their existence and history ; but what record, sacred or profane — what rock, or mound, or wall, contains any aUusion to the original inhabit ants who dwelt on the borders of our lakes, on the banks of our rivers, or on the plains and in the val leys of the land ? AU is still and silent as a hushed eve of Indian summer on a vast prairie, whose far-off boundaries are closed in on aU sides by the descend ing sky. We talk of the East — not New England, with its granite mountains and granite hearts, and rocky shores, and beautiful villas, and magnificent cities, and honest people — but, further on toward -the rising sun, of Rome and Jerusalem, of Babylon and Nine veh, the land of Csesar and Virgil, of Jesus and Paul, of Belus and Ninus ; and we sit enchanted, as a Ste phens and Eobinson, a Layard, Durbin, and Lynch, describe the grandeur of their ancient ruins ; but who can teU if the ruins in our own land, though not so magnificent, are not reaUy as ancient as some of those ? The grand old woods, and mountains, and plains, may even be more ancient, if the geology of some be true ; but whether so or not, they are primeval, and, so far as antiquity is concerned, are alike interesting and wonderful, apart from historic associations, as the 16 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. groves, and mountains, and plains of Italy, Palestine, or Assyria. If among the native inhabitants there were none to record cotemporaneous history, or no "Prophet bard to -wake the lyre of song," thus perpetuating their names and memory, enough is left to teU their numbers, and strength, and skiU, and of an antiquity little, if any, inferior to the Ori ental nations of the past. But we must retum to our theme, the West. Four centuries have nearly passed away since the first white man cast his eye upon the continent of America, and upward of three hun dred since the fiftieth degree of north latitude was reached by the daring Spaniard. Not long after, Eernando de Soto, with six hundred stalwart knights, entered the land of flowers in search of gold. Ex ploring Georgia and Alabama, and destroying the Indian town of Mobile, he pushed his enterprise into Mississippi and Arkansas. Descending the Mis sissippi to the mouth of Eed Eiver, he was invited by the Indians to visit the town of Natchez, where he ended his fruitless search for gold with his life, and was buried beneath the Mississippi's turbid wave. His companions, headed by Moscoso, pushed their journey further; but having been reduced by wars and hardships to one half of their original numbers, disheartened with the prospect, and losing all hopes of gaining the object of their pui'suit, they THE WEST. 17 constructed a flotilla, in which they descended the Mississippi; and, flnding a voyage to their own country, they returned no more to tempt the dan gerous wave or enter the wilderness of the New World. The sad fate which befeU De la Eoque and his company of adventurers to this far-off land of flowers and gold, gave a check, for many years, to the spirit of enterprise in this direction. The reports from the country, however, were of so enchanting a nature, having lost nothing by the distance between it and Spain, and the time it took to cross the ocean, that the then reigning queen, as a memorial of her state in life, named it Yirginia, a name subsequently confined to one of the states. Thus voyages and dis coveries, attended with successes and disasters, con tinued to be made; until, at length, a permanent settlement of the whites from England was effected at Jamestown in 1607. For more than a century after De Soto's expedition into the Great Western Yalley of North America, this vast wilderness remained utteriy unknown to the whites. In the year 1616, four years before the May Flower was " moored on wild New-England's shore," Le Caron, from France, had penetrated through the nations of the Iroquois and Wyandots, and found the rivers of the wilderness, one of which he traced to Lake Huron. Shortly after this, Canadian envoys pushed their explorations until they met the Indian 18 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. nations of the northwest, on the far-off shores of Lake Superior. It was not, however, to remain. The wildness of the region was sufficient to intimidate even the spirit of such daring adventurers; and it was twenty years later before even the love of gain could prompt the fur trader to spend the winter on those frozen and inhospitable shores. But the spirit of adventure was abroad ; and enough had been seen and heard of the West, and its rich lands and hunting grounds, to stir the adventurer to action. Soon Michigan is explored, and the French take formal possession of the northwest. Others start out to find the sources of the Mississippi and Missouri, and trace it to its mouth. In these expeditions, what are now the states of Indiana, lUinois, Missouri, and Mississippi, were traversed. The first man who crossed the mountains, and entered the Ohio YaUey, was John Howard, as early as 1742. It is said of this adventurer that he sailed down, the Ohio in a canoe made of a buffalo-skin, from its source to its mouth, and was taken a prisoner by the French on the Mississippi. After him followed others from Pennsylvania and Yirginia. In 1748 Conrad Weiser was sent as an interpreter, with presents to the Indians, at their town upon the banks of the Ohio, between the head of the river and Beaver Creek; the object of his visit was to open up a friendly intercourse, and secure a trade with the THE WEST. 19 Indians, which had been monopolized by a set of unprincipled, half-savage white men. FoUowing thia movement was the formation of companies in the east, for the purpose of settUng the rich, wild lands in the valley of the Ohio. Explorers were sent out in difierent directions ; and as the whites had appropri ated the country to themselves, all that was necessary was to obtain grants from the Colonial Government, and run their Unes, and mark their boundaries. Thus was the West, the land of the Indians, parceled out ; and thus, fi'om time to time, as it was visited by settlers, did it become the home of the white man. We shall have more to say, not only in regard to the explora tion, but the settlement of the West, in our sketches. Upward of one hundred years have passed away since the canoe of the first white man parted the waters of the Ohio. Then the entire valley, in aU its length and breadth, was occupied by the Indians. But now how changed the scene ? "Where occasionally, at distant intervals, he passed an Indian encampment, whose fires gleamed upon the midnight waters, as he gUded noiselessly by, now continuous towns and cities dot the entire margin throughout its course, and filled with their teeming thousands, while the valley con tains its crowding and ever-increasing milUons. Town is added to town, and state is added to state, until, stretching from mountain to plain, and from plain to prairie, and from prairie to mountain again, 2 20 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. and from the mountain to the Westem ocean, the vast tide of human population wends its westward way. The history of the West may be embraced within the following periods, each bearing a particular des ignation, as the country was more or less under the control, or claimed as the possession of the various races which have visited it, since first discovered by the whites : The occupancy by the Spaniards from 1512 to 1819 ; the occupancy by the French from 1633 to 1763 ; the possession by the EngUsh from 1758 to the year 1778; and its possession by the Anglo- Americans, or citizens of the United States, from the year 1750 until the present time. PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 21 CHAPTEE n. PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. We have already alluded briefly to some of the early explorers of the West, but we design in this chapter to enter somewhat more into detail in regard to this class of pioneers. The most that had been done was by a rapid transit over those sections of the country inhabited by Indians, who were either peaceful, or with whom temporary treaties had been formed. As these Indians reserved the richest vaUeys on the Ohio and its tributaries for their hunting grounds, and gen erally resided elsewhere, there was a terra incognita to the white man, which the Indians, from the knowl edge already gained of his character, were unwilling they should find out. But what can escape his anx ious eagle eye, or be beyond the reach of his covetous gi*asp ? More than even De Soto beheld in his gold en visions, when the land of flowers greeted his eyes, the eastem settler beheld in the rich valleys of the West. De Soto had explored the South two hundred years before, and had left the footprints of stalwart knights 22 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. on its verdant plains, and on the banks of its rivers ; Le Caron had explored the North, and blazed his way through the interminable forests which border the upper lakes. La Salle and Marquette, nearly a hun dred years later, had penetrated the northwestern wilds, and finding the far-off Wisconsin, set sail upon its waters in hopes of flnding the great river of. the West, which led to the Paciflc. They found it, and embarking on the yellow flood of the Father of Waters, they followed its windings, and passed through what are now the States of Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, Il linois, Missouri, Arkansas, and Mississippi. Subse quently, Lewis and Clarke ascended the Missouri to ascertain its sources ; and finding them in the Eocky Mountains, they scale those mighty barriers, and stop not in their fatiguing joumey untU, far away through dense forests, where the white man had never been before, inhabited by the Nez Perces, Black Feet, and Flat Head Indians, they reach the Columbia, and, embarking on its waters, find the ut most Umit of the West. About fifty yeara, however, before this great ex ploration — when the vaUey was all a wilderness, and unexplored, with the exceptions we have named — bold and daring adventurers started out from the East, and, crossing the AUeghanies, penetrated the vaUey. It wiU be our object in this chapter to nar rate some of these adventures. It would be an easy PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 23 matter, as many have done in their pioneer sketches, to present vivid pictures of the West, which, pano rama-like, unroU before the mind, without, however, any special connection ; but they lose half their interest by the want of that which is as important to satisfy the mind of the reader, as it is necessary to the western pilot, on one of the broad and rapid rivers of the West, to have landmarks to guide him on his way. Names and dates are quite as im portant, in giving interest to a narrative, as any eloquent description can be, and we shall not lose sight of connection, either in the order of dates or events. The frontiers were exposed to the desolations of the savages ; and by the frontiers we mean Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Yirginia. The English and the French both had their allies among the various tribes of Indians. Each were striving hard to gain recruits from the other. The considerations of rum and other articles, with the presents and promises of the English, were outdone by the presents and polite ness of the French ; and, notwithstanding the solemn treaties which had been entered into, they were frequently seduced from their allegiance, and the French, backed up by soulless English traders, gained many of the British allies. In addition to the treaties which had been formed, another was entered into with the Delawares in Pennsylvania. This, how- 24 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. ever, did not seem to prove binding upon the nation. There were the Shawnees and Mingoes, who were still without even the show of any binding obU- gation to keep the peace. A crisis had arrived. Such was the state of the country, and the weak, disheartened condition of the English, that, unless they could overcome the in fluence of the wily Frenchman and the heartless trader, whose only love for the Indian was to take advantage of him, and cheat him out of his skins and furs — similar to the love which the boa constrictor has for the kid ; unless this power could be broken, and the Indians of the West gained over, it was feared that the enemy would gain an advantage from which they would not be likely to recover ; but the question was, " How shall it be done ? Who is adequate to the undertakuig.? Where shall the man be found possessing the nerve and daring, the knowledge and sagacity indispensable to so great a task?" The oc casion demanded all these, and more. The man who embarked in this enterprise must have a courage undaunted, and a physical endurance equal to any fatigue. His mission would require him to pass through a country, which was then a howling wil derness, filled with hostile foes ; and should he meet those between whom and his brethi-eji the tomaliawk had been buried, and tliey had sworn a friendship, no reUance was to be placed upon it, as the avowed ^ ¦^'\A,v PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 27 friends of yesterday might prove the bitterest enemies of to-day. Besides, as we have already intimated, the whole French interest would be roused against him. Every stream in its westem flow had been tinged with the blood of the white man; every mountain and vaUey had echoed with the wild shouts of war, and the rude cabins of the settlers had been bumed to the ground. Among aU the brave and gallant men of General Forbes's army, though they lacked not daring and bravery, there was not one who met the description, and possessed the necessary quaUfications for so important and hazardous an enterprise. Seventeen years before, there had come out to the West a band of Moravian missionaries, with a view of estabUshing missions among the Indians. They seemed to have partaken of the spirit of their breth ren, who had braved the snows and icebergs of Greenland, to bear the glad tidings to the natives of that desolate shore. Unattended and unarmed, -with the words of peace upon their Ups, and the love of God and man in their hearts, they pushed their way through trackless forests, and in Western Penn sylvania had located a mission. Among these missionaries was one whose name was Christian Frederic Post. AU eyes were tumed to him as the man. Ten years before, Conrad Weiser had been sent on 28 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. a somewhat similar expedition to Logstown, an Indian viUage on the Ohio, seventeen miles below Pitts burgh; but aU treaties and negotiations had failed to bring about peace. The sachem of the Pennsylva nia savages had exerted his utmost to caU his west em brethren to peace ; but they would not hear his voice; their cry was stUl for blood. When inteUi gence came to the brave old warrior, that Post was about to enter upon the mission, he strongly urged him not to go, as it would be of no use whatever, and he would surely lose his Ufe. But he feared not ; with that strong faith which characterized the Mora vians, mixed with just enough of the romantic ele ment that entered into the composition of the Chris tian knight, to give a spirit of adventure, he beUeved that it was the wUl of the great Master that he should start out upon this errand. It was precisely in the midsummer of 1758 that our Christian hero left the city of Philadelphia. Habited as a hunter, and provided with the neces sary outfit for a long and fatiguing joumey, he left the city of Penn, and took his course up the Sus quehanna. As he passed along from settlement to settlement, instead of finding inhabitants, all were deserted; and the plantations and cabins presented nothing but a scene of desolation. Leaving the val ley, he ascended the mountain; and urging his way through its wUd and imbroken solitudes, he at length, PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 29 after a month's travel, reached the AUeghany Eiver, opposite French Creek. He was now in the vicinity of the enemy's fortifications. The garrison of Fort Yenango was before him; and further do'wn the stream, at the junction of the Alleghany with the Monongahela, stood intrenched Fort Du Quesne, both of which were occupied by the French, fully armed, and stoutly manned. The former fort was passed without detection or interruption; and he proceeded on his journey to Cuskagee, an Indian to-wn on Big Beaver Creek, not far from a Moravian mission. The Indian to-wn contained ninety huts and two hundred able war riors. Here Post was known and beloved. His self-sacrificing devotion to the good of the red man for years, had satisfied them that he sought not to advance his own interests by coming among them and cultivating a friendship, but his only aim was to do them good. His name and fame had spread through many Westem tribes, as "the good pale face ;" and Indian mothers taught their children to lisp the name of Post, the Christian, with as much interest as patriot mothers subsequently taught their childi'en to lisp the name of Washington. Here, then, he was at home, among his friends. Assem bUng the chiefs, he opened up to them — for he underatood their language, and was aUied to them by marriage — his mission. He described to them 30 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. the condition of the country, and the relations which the English and French sustained in regard to it; as weU as the distracted state of the various Western tribes, swaying to and fro in their aUegiance to both parties, as cunning or cupidity might dictate. At Fort Du Quesne there were fragments of eight nations of Indians, more or less under the power and influence of the French; and the friends of Post, brave though they were, nevertheless had reason to fear that power. Their attachment to him, however, was too great for them not to listen to his proposals in regard to the propriety of holding a council -with them. To test the matter, Post said to the chiefs: "ShaU I cross the river alone, and enter the fort of my enemies?" "Nay, we will go with thee, and caiTy thee in our bosom. Thou needest fear nothing, thou man of the Great Spirit." A messenger, however, was sent, and the Indians at the fort were apprised that their brethren of Cus kagee desired to hold a conference with them, oppo site the fort, on the other side of the river. Post and the chiefs departed for the place; and on the last day of summer there met on the banks of the Ohio the representatives from the different tribes. Post stated the object of the meeting, presenting everything in its true light to the assembled warriors, who Ustened with great attention to every word which PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 31 fell from his lips, for he was not a stranger to thera. All seemed disposed to listen to his advice, but an old Onondaga chief of the Six Nations. The old man was evidently in liquor; but as the old Latin proverb holds true, in vinum est Veritas, so he uttered some truths. In a boisterous manner he replied to Post, exclaim ing, "The land on whicii I now stand belongs to the Six Nations, and the English have no right to it." At this a Delaware advanced, and rebuking the Onondaga, he said, addressing Post, "That man speaks not as a man. Ho endeavors to frighten us by saying this ground is his. He dreams ; and he and his father, the French, have certainly drunk too much Uquor; pray, let them go to sleep till they are sober." Then turning to the old chief, he said : "Tou do not know what your own nation does at home, how much they have to say to the English. Go to sleep with your father, and when you are sober we will speak to you." It was obvious that the Delawares, and nearly all the Western Indians, were wavering in their attach ment for the French. It takes not an Indian long to find out when a deception is practiced upon him, especially when his suspicion is a little excited ; and, ¦when once deceived, it is hard to restore confidence. The rough, outspoken manner of the old inebriate, was the occasion of awakening in the minds of the Indians present a remembrance of the wrongs they 32 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. had suffered, and the deceptions practiced upon them both by the EngUsh and French, and, as might be expected, they were not exactly ready to listen to the proposals even of the good Post to join the colonies. Some of them uttered bitter com plaints against the whites for the disposition they manifested to lay their rapacious hands on all tha hunting grounds. " Why," said one of them, addressing Post, " did you not fight your battles at home or on the sea, instead of coming into our country to fight them? Tour heart is good; you speak sincerely; but we know there is always a great number who wish to get rich, and take away what others have. The white people think we have no brains in our heads ; that they are big, and we a little handful; but, remember, when you hunt for a rattle-snake you cannot find it, and perhaps it wiU bite you before you see it." Post, however, was not discouraged, but labored on, using every honorable means in his power, with out resorting to any false promises, to convince them that it would be to their advantage to form a union with the colonies. Besides, the army of General Forbes was approaching Du Quesne, and the strong probability was, from the weakened condition of the fort, that it would fall into the hands of the English. They were at length won by the sincerity and kind- PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 33 ness of Post, and a definite peace was concluded between the various Westem tribes there represented and the English. Leaving the treaty ground, he started homeward, and, after suffering incredible perils from French scouts and hostile Indians, Post at length reached the settlements uninjured. But his work was not done. The French had de stroyed and deserted Du Quesne, and had proceeded to lower posts down the Ohio. WasUington was urg ing his way through the wilderness, and opening a road to the Fork of the Ohio, advancing at the rate of from four to eight miles a day. In the mean time a treaty had been held -with the Eight United Na tions at Easton. Still there was a powerful body who were opposed to the EngUsh, and these must be con ciliated. Post accordingly starts out again for the Ohio. FoUowing in the track of Forbes's army, he finaUy overtook it, and receiving messages from the general to the West, he traveled on to bear the news of the treaty to the distant tribes. Being successful in finding them, he laid before the chiefs his plans and proposals. The result was, that he was again fortunate in preventing them from joining the French, which they were just on the eve of doing, and had arranged their plans to waylay Forbes and his army. Through his services the key to the Westem world was secured to the colonies, and an advantage was 34 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. gained in this respect, over French and Indians, that was never afterward lost. Tliough the Ohio Indians had been gained over to the English, there were tribes bordering on the lakes, such as the Wyandots, Ottawas, and Chippewas, who adhered to the French. It was important that they should be visited, and, accordingly. Major Eog ers — Post having gone on a religious mission among the Indians on the Muskingum — was sent out on the expedition. Detroit was given to his charge. In September, 1760, he left Montreal, and passing up I/ike Erie to that place, he demanded a surrender. ''/^"hiie waiting for an answer, Pontiac, the Ottawa chief, visited him, and in a bold, defiant manner, asked " how the English dared to enter his country." The reply was, that " they only came to put out the French and open up a trade." This quieted the spirit of the brave chief, and he departed. The fort was finally taken, and Eogers received no little assistance from Pontiac. Leaving the position fortified, he start ed out on an exploring expedition. Crossing the lake, he entered what is now the State of Ohio, at the point where Sandusky city now stands. From thence he crossed the Huron Eiver to Mohiccan town on the Mohiccan Creek, a branch of "White Woman. From thence he went to Beaver town, op posite Sandy Creek. At this town there were one hundred and eighty warriors, and thousands of acres PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 35 of cleared land. From this point he proceeded up Sandy Creek, crossed the Big Beaver, and went up the Ohio through Logstown to Fort Pitt. This was the first joumey by a white man through Ohio. The year following, Alexander Henry, an English trader, went to the straits of Mackinaw, and finding among the Indians great hostility to the English, he issumed the garb of a Canadian, and reached his des- rination in safety. It was not long, however, until his speech betrayed him, and he was visited by Pon tiac, who, deceived by EngUsh promises, had become enraged. Addressing Henry he said, "EngUshman! You have conquered the French, but you have not con quered us ! We are not your slaves ! These lakes, these woods, these mountains, were left to us by our ancestors. They are our inheritance, and we wiU part with them to none. Your nation supposes that we, like the white people, cannot live without bread, and pork, and beef. But you ought to know that He, the Great Spirit and Master of Life, has provided food for us upon these broad lakes and in these mount ains," A few years prior to this, Christopher Gist was pent out, by the Ohio Company, to explore the Mia mi Eiver. Like Howard and others, he did not pass through the country, but descended the Ohio. When be arrived at the mouth of the Miami, he ascended 36 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. that river as far as the mouth of Loraimie Creek, one hundred and fifty miles from the Ohio Eiver, where a trading house was built for the purpose of carrying on a trafflc with the Miami Indians. In this tour he also descended the Ohio as far as the Falls. He also entered Yirginia, and surveyed a tract of land east of the Kanawha, and, in company with General An drew Lewis, made some surveys in the Greenbrier coimtry. A history is connected -with each one of these adventurous pioneers full of thrilling interest; but we have only space to call up their names, and aUude to their explorations. In the year 1766, during the first month of sum mer, there started out from Carolina a pioneer by the name of James Smith. Having received the inteUigence that the king's agent, to whom was intrusted the affairs of government with the Indians, had purchased from them all the lands west of the Appalachian chain, extending from the Ohio to the Cherokee Elvers, and knowing from the Indians, -with whom he was able to converse in their own tongue, that many portions of this country were exceedingly rich and valuable, he concluded to take a tour of exploration. His plan becoming kno-wn to his neighbors, several of them determined on accom panying him to the El Dorado of the West. The company was composed, besides himself, of Joshua PIONEER EXPLORERS OP THE WEST. 37 Horton — ^who took -with him a mulatto slave, a boy eighteen years old — ^Uriah Stone, and .WiUiam Baker. They proceeded to the Holston Eiver, and from thence they , struck out in a westward direction. They explored the country south of Kentucky, and saw not in aU their travels the sUghtest sign indicating the presence of a white man. They were the first white explorers of this wilderness. They explored the Cumberland and Tennessee Elvers from Stone's Eiver-^-a branch of the Cum berland, named after one of the party — do'wn to the mouth. "When they reached the mouth of the Tennessee Eiver, Smith's fellow-travelers concluded to strike into " the Illinois," for the purpose of finding out the quality of the land, which the Indians represented as being exceeding rich and beautifaUy rolUng. He, however, concluded that he had been away long enough from his wife and children, and, fearing lest they should become uneasy about him, and imagine that he had been killed by the Indians, resolved to retm-n home. The party fumished him with the greatest part of their ammunition, and Horton gave him the loan of his colored boy to keep him com pany. Sending his horse -with his companions to Blinois, it being difficult to take one through the mountains, he started out on his homeward joumey. 38 FIONEEKS OF THE WEST. After ti-aveling eight days, he accidentally trod on a sharp cane, with which the region abounded, and his foot was so wounded 'with it that it soon began to sweU, and pained him so much that he was unable to walk. His condition can be better imagined than described. He was in a dense wil derness, hundreds of miles from human habitation, his ammunition nearly exhausted, and no one to give him any assistance but his negro boy, Jim. Besides, he knew not what moment he might be attacked by the savages. But who ever knew a pioneer hunter to despair? Something must be done, and done speedUy, to give him reUef, for the sweUing was increasing, and ¦with it the pain. He had no surgical instruments, and, if he had, he would scarcely have kno'wn how to use them. He accordingly took his knife, and cutting away the flesh as weU as he could, he inserted his moc casin awl into the wound, and, exposing the cane spike, he ordered Jim to take the bullet-mold, which he made answer for pincers, and extract it, which he did, much to the joy of the hunter. He then ordered Jim to search for some Indiaii medi cine, directing him to get some bark from a Unn- tree, and pound it on a stone with the tomahawk, and boil it in the kettle which they carried ¦with them. With this decoction he bathed his foot, and the bark answered as a poultice, which he bound up PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 39 ¦with moss, ha'ving no Unen, and bandaged it with elm bark. By this means the swelUng greatly abated, but still he was unable to walk. In the midst of his misfortunes stormy weather set in, and it became necessary to have a shelter. Jim was accordingly ordered to cut forks and poles, and cover them over ¦with cane tops, Uke a fodder- house. The place where Smith lay was about one hundred yards from a great buffalo road, and, as they were out of pro'visions, one day Smith ordered Jim to take the gun, and foUo'wing him on his hands and knees, he succeeded in reaching it, con cealing himself near the track. It was not long until a herd came along, and he flred and killed one of the Mtest. The buffalo was dressed ; and while the lean part served for jerk, the fat part was reserved to cook it 'with, as occasion might require. While lying in this lonesome and helpless condi tion, the pioneer was not without soliie comfort. He was a religious man, and had taken with him a Psalm Book, and a work entitled "Watts on Prayer." In his jmusings about his condition, and the loved ones at home, he became melancholy; but his melancholy, as is often the case, took a poetic tum, and while by his adventure he secured the name of being the flrst explorer of that region, may not his poetic effusions entitle him to the sobriquet of the Pioneer Poet 3 His verses ran thus : 40 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. "Six -sleeks I've in this desert been, With one mulatto lad ; Excepting this poor stupid slave, No company I had. " In solitude I here remain, A cripple very sore ; No friend or neighbor to be found, My case for to deplore. " I'm far from home, far from the -wife Which in my bosom lay ; 'Fax from the children dear 'which used Around me for to play. " This doleful circumstance cannot My happiness prevent ; While peace of conscience I enjoy, Great comfort and content." One cannot help being reminded, on reading this, of a certain metrical version of David's Psalms, sung by certain denominations, who abominate the Hymns of Watts, Wesley, and others, as they do the seven- headed and ten-homed beast of the Apocalypse. It sounds, however, much Uke the early poetry of the West. What it lacks in strict poetic requirement, it makes up in sense and sentiment. Specimens of pioneer poetry would make a rich chapter. But we must retum. Smith continued "a cripple very sore" for some time; but his foot graduaUy became PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THE WEST. 41 better, and he was finaUy enabled to get about pretty weU on crutches. Being so near the buffalo road, he feared being surprised by the Indians who might be passing; and, considering prudence tho better part of valor, he struck his tent and removed further off. He was afraid to enter upon his joumey until his foot was entirely weU, or nearly so, lest traveUng should inflame it, and nothing would be gained. In this he acted wisely. His next game was an elk, which he shot from his camp. After remaining a few weeks longer he started again for home, which, after a fatiguing joumey, he reached, much to his O'wn happiness, and that of his family and friends, who had given him and his party up as lost. He had been in the wilderness eleven months, during three of wliich he saw no human being but Jim, his companion. "When he reached the settlements his few remaining clothes were in rags, and Jim had "nothing on him that ever was spun." He was dressed in buckskin leg gins and moccasins, and a bearskin, dressed with the hair on, which was belted around him, and a raccoon- skin cap. So strange and wonderful was the simple story Smith told his friends and neighbors of his travels, and the distance he had been from home, that no one beUeved him; and, as if he had not suffered enough, he was taken into custody, and put nnder guard on the charge of being crazy. 42 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. About two years after this wonderful adventure another expedition set out from North CaroUna. They were traders, seeking the Cherokees and other Southern Indians, with whom they had carried on a traffic for many years. Their course, however, was diverted from the South, and they took a northem direction, upon what was caUed the Warrior's Eoad. This road led from Cumberland Ford, along the broken country lying on the eastem branch of the Kentucky Eiver, and from thence across the Licking and Ohio, to the mouth of the Scioto Eiver. This Indian war-path formed a communication between the Northem and Southem Indians. On some point along its course, John Finley, in 1767, opened a trad ing post -with the red men, north of the Ohio, who met him there, at certain seasons, to exchange their skins for such articles as they needed. This daring pioneer trader was the first man to traverse Kentucky to the Ohio Eiver, carrying his goods and merchandise along with his rifle. The valleys of the Holston, CUnch, and New Elvers, contained a number of famiUes, among whom were some bold, adventurous hunters. For the purpose of exploring the country more fully. Col onel James Knox succeeded in enlisting thirty-nine men, as a company, to be governed by certain rules in their explorations. Their object was not only to chase the buffalo and the Indians, but to find out PIONEER EXPLORERS OF THB^ WEST. 43 the localities of the country in the region of the Cumberland. Nine men out of this party resolved to cross the mountains, and penetrate the ¦wilderness beyond. They accordingly did so, and all the region on the borders of Kentucky and Tennessee was 'visited by them. They were so long absent on their tour of exploration, that the party was ever after desig nated, in the traditions of the West, as the "Long Hunters." "While they were traversing the vaUey, other daring spirits from Yirginia and Pennsylvania, fired ¦with Westem enterprise, penetrated the vaUey of the Ohio. Among the number of these adven turers was the world-reno'wned George Washington, who, among the pioneers as among the soldiers of the West, was the first and best. He had in his posses sion large claims of land, and his fruitful mind had revolved far-reaching plans of settlement for the great valley. He was aware of the fertUity of the lands along the Ohio, and he could have made the selection with out the toil and hazard of the joumey; but he was resolved to look upon them with his o'wn eyes, and select them according to his own judgment. The surveys made by Washington were mostly confined to the lands in the vicinity of the Kanawha Eiver. In the year 1774 James Harrod entered Kentucky, and, after making many explorations, he resolved to take up his abode there. Other hunters and explorers 44 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. had come and gone, leaving no trace of civiliza tion behind them. So exciting were the scenes of every-day Ufe, that they had no time to remain long in one spot, and no desire to fix for themselves a local habitation. The place where they camped one night might be fifty miles distant on the return of the suc ceeding night. Like the children of Israel in the desert, though they might cross and recross their O'wn path a hundred times, they never pitched their tents in the same locality. But Harrod opened a new era for Kentucky. He erected a log cabin, the first ever reared in the valley of the Ohio. It was situated on a spot of ground where the to'wn of Harrodsburg now staads.- It was emphaticaUy the pioneer cabin; and standing,' as it did, alone in the wilderness, it became the type of the early habita tions of the settlers bf the West. The year pre'vious to Harrod's location, Thomas BuUit, in company 'with two brothers by the name of M'Afee, and *the foUowing-named persons, Duen- non, Hancock, and Taylor, descended the Ohio as far as the Kentucky Eiver, where they separated, part of them going up that river for the purpose of ex ploring its banks. In their tour they made some important surveys, including the vaUey in which tho city of Frankfort, the capital of the state, now stands. Tlie other portion continued on dovra the Ohio asi far as the FaUs, where they laid out the to'wn of LouisviUe. THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 47 CHAPTEE HL THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. In the early part of the eighteenth centmy, a stem and sturdy yeoman from England, who, 'with others, sought a home in America, landed upon these shores. The place he had selected as his home in the new world, was in the state of Pennsylvania. He had been blessed with a large family, consisting of nine sons and ten daughters. All, however, were trained to industry, and it was not many years before the father had acquii-ed a large plantation, and saw his sons and daughters, one after another, happily mar ried and settled in life. One of his sons, to whom he gave the quaint title of "Squire," married a young woman in the neighborhood ; but, as is frequently the case, he thought he could better his condition by leaving the shadow of home, and, accordingly, he re moved to a different part of the state. He, also, in process of time, was blessed with a numerous progeny. Among the number of sons that grew up with the rest of the chUdren, like oUve plants around his table, was one who seemed to have inherited more of the 48 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. spirit of his enterprising father, than the other boys, and on this account, perhaps, he was looked upon with rather more favor than the rest. When this favored boy was quite young, his father removed to a stiU more distant region. To a child in that period of our country's history, the name of an Indian was almost as famiUar as the name of any domestic animal to the children of the present day ; but it produced quite different sensations. The boy became accustomed, as he grew up, to aU the scenes and incidents of a backwoods life, and early became inured to its toils and hardships. He was not, Uke many children of the present day, sent to school as soon as he could walk, and shut up in a close room, with his book in his hand, and a rod m terrorem hanging over him, if he did not exhaust his Uttle brain iu mastering his lesson. Neither was his mind or body dwarfed by such a training, but, left to breathe the pure air of the woods, and to study nature in spelUng out of " the brooks, and stones, and trees," his lessons of instruction, it may readily be conjectur ed that he developed both a mind and body suited to the times in which he Uved. The boy thus reared became a bold and daring youth, and having leamed the use of the rifle, he often started out alone on a hunt through the forests. Many romantic stories are told of the hunter boy; but as there are reliable facts enough connected with his THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 49 history, to make the truth itself stranger than fiction, it is not necessary to embeUish our narrative with any imaginative descriptions. The father had heard rumors of richer lands and better hunting grounds in the farK)ff Southwest, and his enterprising spirit prompted him to start out in quest of them. It was not long until he disposed of his possessions on the head waters of the SchuylkiU, and, taking his family, started on pilgrimage for the Canaan. After crossing over the states of Mary land and Yirginia, the adventurous family found themselves on the head waters of the Yadkin, a river which rises among the mountains, forming the west ern boundary of North CaroUna, where they found a wUd and romantic scenery, possessing charms to the eye of a pioneer hunter and his family, yet only such as would now be sought, out of mere necessity, by an invaUd denizen of some of our pent-up cities. The youth had come to manhood ; full, vigorous manhood. In all that wild region he had no superior for strength of muscle, fleetness of foot, or skill with the rifle. He had gro-wn up in the woods, and un derstood aU its mysteries. He felt as much at home in the midst of bears, and wolves, and panthers, as Yan Amburg -with his lions, though they were as un tamed as the 'wilderness in which they roamed. None had penetrated the mountain fastnesses which separated the settlements from the wild, unknown re- 50 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. gion beyond, farther than he. Wild as had become his nature, from the associations by which he was surrounded, and much as he loved solitude, a period arrived in his history, when a new and strange feeling' took possession of his heart. He was in love; a beautiful black-eyed damsel, fleet and pure as the roe of the mountain, had stolen his affections ; and though the poet makes Adam to feel that Eden would have been a wUderness without woman, he felt that his wilderness would become an Eden -with one. As " the brave deserve the fair," so he wooed and won, and, erecting a cabin, entered upon the sweets of home. Time passed on, and the in'viting country attracted other settlers; the area of improvement increased, and the cabin sent up its curUng smoke in vaUey and glen, and on the mountain side. The hunter became restless and uneasy, if not unhappy. It was not that he coveted the possessions of others, or that he was un'wiUing others should enjoy Uke advantages ¦with himself; but he loved a broad -range, and preferred being alone with his family in the woods, out of sight of the smoke of other cabins, and the crack of other rifles. On one of his mountain rambles he met a hunter returning from the West, laden with the rich products of the unkno'wn land. He had been the first to penetrate its -wilds, and, Uke one of the spies sent over from THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 61 the encampment of Israel to Canaan, he was re turning -with a proof of its richness as a hunter's paradise. This was enough to convince the ambi tious hunter, without Ustening to the marvelous stories which he told of the far-off Kentucky. Nor did it take much urging, on the part of the returned hunter, to induce him to accompany him on his next tour. Nothing could have been more oppor tune, or better suited to his feeUngs. Accordingly, after making the necessary pro'vision for his wife and children — for these pledges of love were to be found in his cabin — ^he departed with his com panions, consisting of five besides himself, aU his neighbors and friends. In the course of time they reached the long-desired land, and when their eyes rested upon it, they said " the half had not been told them." It was in the spring of the year. The ver dant plain was covered -with flowers of every hue. The myriad trees spread out their leaves and blos soms. Wild beasts of aU kinds roamed the forests, and herds of buffalo, more ilumerous than the cattle in the settlements, not fearing because not kno-wing the vio lence of the white man, were grazing on the herbage. Here our hunter had all that heart could wish, and all he wanted to complete the sum of his highest joys, was the presence of his wife and chUdren. After remaining for six months, an un pleasant incident occurred. He and one of his 62 PIONEERS OF THB WEST. companions, being out one day on a hunting excur sion, were surprised and taken captive by a party of Indians who had been watching their move ments, and sprung upon them when they were entirely oft' their guard, enjoying a pleasant re laxation in conversation about home. The Indians bound them, and took them to their camps, in a dense cane-brake, -with which portions of that region abounded. Here they continued in captivity for seven days, in all which time they were treated with savage barbarity. It was now mid-winter, and at night the Indians would sleep around a large fire. The captives, knowing that if they manifested no desire to escape, the Indians would be less watchful, and, therefore, the probabilities of their escape increased, affected no concern whatever about their condition, keeping always close by the more watchful of the Indians. On the seventh night, as our captives lay side by side in the midst of their swarthy enemies, the one who was the most ¦vigUant touching the other, being assured that aU were locked fast in sleep, they rose noiselessly and left the camp. They imme diately directed their course toward their own camp, in hopes of finding their companions; but what was their sui-prise, on arriving, to find it plundered ^nd their companions gone ! Having remained so long in the ¦wilderness, it THB HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 63 was feared by the wife and father of the daring himter that he was kiUed, and so anxious did they become about him, that a younger brother and a companion resolved on going after him; and if they could not find him, it would at least be a comfort to leam some tidings of his fate. After scouring the country, they at length found his camp, and rejoiced to meet him once more alive. A few days after this, the hunter who had been in cap- ti-vity -with him was slain by the Indians; and the man who accompanied his brother, becoming alarmed for his o-wn safety, retumed home. But, alas ! that home he never reached. Without a guide, though a hunter, and somewhat skiUed in picking his way through a -wilderness, he was now in a region unkno-wn and untenanted by man. Either in the tangled thicket, or on the mountain -wild, he had been able to direct his course in all his hunting rambles hitherto; but now, sad to re late, he became bewildered, and, losing aU his reckoning, that horrid state of mind which only those can understand who have realized it, took possession of him, and he wandered about, not kno-wing whither he was going, Uke one bereft of reason. He was lost ! lost in the -wilderness. How long he wandered none could tell. It is supposed that he suppUed himself with provisions as long as his ammunition lasted, and when that failed he 54 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Uved on whatever he could find to eat, until he eventuaUy perished for want of food. Many months afterward his bones were found, in aU probabiUty on the very spot where he breathed out his worn and weary spirit to its God. The two brothers were now alone, aU but they having left. The winter was rapidly approaching, and it was necessary that its rigors should be pro vided against. Accordingly a camp was made, covered -with cane and moss, and made weather proof. It was not necessary to lay in provisions, as the kind upon which they depended, and, in fact, aU the kind that could be had, was to be found in the woods in great abundance ; perhaps greater in win ter than summer. The brothers were busily engaged, when not hunting, in making up their dressed skins into hunting shirts, moccasins, and breeches. They had no time for idleness ; and as it was necessary they should keep a watchful look-out for the Indians, who might find their camp, and come upon them, they never became Ustless and apathetic. Thus the winter was passed, and spring returned; but -with it the certainty, which became every day more apparent, that they must retum to the settlements, as their ammuni tion was nearly exhausted. Between them and home intervened five hundred miles of wilderness, in which there was no human being but the Indian. It was concluded, however, that the retum of one for fresh # THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 65 BuppUes would answer as well as that of both ; and it was agreed that the younger should retm-n. Much as the elder desired to see his -wife and children, still he thought it better to remain, not only -with a view of adding to his stock of skins and furs, but of obtain ing a kind of preemption right to the rich and fertile country which he had explored. Besides, he was not only more accustomed to the wilderness than his brother, but he loved the solitude of the desert, and never felt lonesome while left to communings with nature and nature's God. At length the parting words were spoken, and every setting sun removed them farther and farther from each other's presence. Three months had passed away, and summer, with its fruits and flowers, gladdened the eye of the hunter ; but more joyous to him than all other sights — though natural scenes were always to him fuU of enchantment — was the return of his brother, with two horses laden with every article necessary for Ufe in the woods, and plenty of ammunition, the most important of aU suppUes. But above and beyond all, the brother brought with him glad tidings from home — ^intelligence of the health and happiness of his beloved -wife and children — which thrilled the hunter's heart with indescribable emotions of joy. Having horses, and being thus newly fitted out for exploration, they started out to make ftirther dis coveries. Leaving the Kentucky, they explored the 4 66 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Cumberland and Green Elvers ; and for a period of. eight months, on their fleet horses, they scoured the country without being once attacked by the Indians, or meeting a single white man in aU their journeys. Having satisfled their curiosity, they retumed to the Kentucky Eiver, fihding no section more desirable in which to make a permanent location, or which they would prefer as a home. Having, therefore, fuUy set tled the question in regard to locaUty, the brothera concluded to retum home, which they did, greatly to the joy ofthe dweUers on the Yadkin. The elder had now been absent for nearly three years. Of those who started with him to that far-off land, none but himself i*etumed ; and weU might he feel confirmed in the sentiment, which, Uke an ever- present guiding genius, possessed him as he started out into those unknown -wilds, that he was ordained of Heaven to traverse that country, and open up the path for the Pioneer settlers. The wild, romantic stories which had been told of the impassable mountains and impenetrable forests, flUed ¦with bears, wolves, and panthers, of enormous size, and giant savages, who deUghted in blood and carnage, were aU dispeUed, as horrid, unreal night-dreams, by the cahn, simple story of the elder brother ; and to con^dnce them that it was a region fairer than ever their eyes beheld, and desirable above aU lands, he assured the settlers on the Yadkin, that he in- THB HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 67 -tended taking his family to the paradise of the West. What he promised was in course of time fulfiUed; and after getting all things in readiness, he and his brother, with their families and four horses, started for their destined home. The news of their retum, and their intended emigration with their famiUes, spread all over the country. Though there were not any daily, or weekly, or monthly papers then con taining news, and no artificial mode of conveying intelligence whatever, yet fieet-footed backwoods men, anxious to communicate, and inquirers, eager to learn, were to be found in all directions. It is a matter of wonder, even to this day, with what fa cility and correctness intelUgence is communicated from cabin to cabin, almost with as much dispatch as along the electric wires, and often with greater precision and correctness. What denizen of a large city has not, on visiting the country, often received inteUigence of events happening in the city, almost under his eye, which he had not heard of before, and which, on inquiry, he finds to have transpired without his notice. Intelligence, with them, is a common stock; and each tells the other all he knows and all he hears. So spread the wonderfal news communicated by the Kentucky hunters. Accordingly, when the brothers arrived with their famiUes at Fowl's YaUey, they found a large and 68 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. strong party of emigrants ready to accompany them to their new home. The party consisted of five famiUes and forty men, all well armed, and ready for any fatigue or emergency. Soon they were on their way, and, striking for the gap in the Cumber land Mountains, the great gateway which nature had constmcted for the Westem traveler to the New World, they moved on. At night they would construct rude camps of poles, over which they would spread their tent-cloth for the protection of the wo men and children; and, kindUng their fires, would prepare the homely but healthful repast. Thus from day to day they traveled on, without meeting with any incident to mar their peaceful joumey. As they approached a ridge kno-wn as Walden's, a sad calamity befell the emigi'ant band. Seven of the young men of the company, belonging to the different families, had faUen behind the rest, having either been diverted by a chase of some mountain game, or in search of the cattle which may have strayed into the woods. The emigrants were startled at beholding one of the number of the young men bound into their midst, out of breath, exclaiming, "Indians!" The elder hunter's son, a daring, sprightly youth of seventeen, was among the number. Instantly foUowing the one who had escaped, the whole company started for the scene of conflict. THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 59 The Indians had evidently been on the trail of the emigrants, and were watching an opportunity for attacking any portion of the company that might get separated from the rest. Being vastly superior in numbers to the young men whom they attack ed unawares, the latter soon feU victims to their deadly aim, and all but the one we have aUuded to were killed npon the spot. They were several miles ^om their friends ; and though it took some time for the hunters to arrive, yet they were on the spot before a scalp was taken, and the sharp, quick, si multaneous crack"of the unerring rifle, as the fright ened savages bounded away through the dense forests, was like to the funeral shots over the graves of buried warriors. There before them lay, in Death's embrace, the flower and pride of Yadkin and Bowel's Yalley. Slowly and sadly the elder hunter raised his lifeless boy, and bore him away to meet the agonizing grief of a fond, affectionate mother. The others, with grief-smitten hearts, following, took up their dead, and bore them to the camps. We will not attempt a description of the lamenta tion, mourning, and woe of that sad scene. It was Indian Summer; a soft and dreamy haziness was in the atmosphere; the skies wore a leaden hue; and a somber aspect was cast over the face of nature. Wild, craggy rocks and deep precipices were around, for they were now on the most elevated portion of 60 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Walden's ridge. A deep gloom settled on every face of that deeply-afflicted band. It seemed Uke the night of the Passover to the Egyptians, when the first-born in every house was slain by the avenging angel; and though the pioneer hunter stiU was im pressed that it was his destiny to lead the van in the settlement of the country he had explored, all but he and his younger brother came to the conclusion that destiny was against them, and they must retum. There was not a mother in that adventurous band who could be persuaded to risk the lives of any of their remaining children in so hazardous a journey. It was enough. After performing the last sad and solemn offlce of committing their dead to one common grave, "united in life and in death not divided," and marking the spot with nameless stones, moistened with many tears of affection, they started back, -with hea-vy hearts, to the homes they had left. Before reaching, however, their former place of residence, they concluded to take up their abode on the waters of the Clinch Eiver, where the descendants of some of them may be found to this day. Here our hunter remained, contented to wait the openings of Providence for another tour to the West. His name and fame, as a daring and suc cessful explorer, had spread far and wide ; and before two years had passed since his last unsuc- THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 61 cessful expedition, an order came from Govemor Dunmore, of Yirginia, requesting him to conduct into the settlements a company of surveyors whom he had some montiis before sent out to the Falls of the Ohio, for the purpose of effecting a settlement. To this request he compUed, regarding it a favor able opening for the prosecution of that great mis sion for which he . stiU beUeved himself to be destined. Taking a companion with him whom he had tried, some of his former fellow-adventurers ha-ving " pass'd that bourn From whence no traveler returns," he was once more on his way across the mountains. They had no time to spend in hunting, as the mis sion -with which the hunter was intrusted was urgent. The party at the FaUs were in danger of being captured by the Indians, and were not aware of that danger. AU the delay on the route was that which was necessarily occasioned in kilUng and cooking game, sufflcient for tiieir supply on the road. After being out two months, during which time they traveled eight hundred miles, they arrived safely at the FaUs of the Ohio, and found the com pany to whom they bore the governor's message. Not beUeving that there was any immediate danger to^ be apprehended from the Indians, the 62 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. company continued at the Falls until an incident occurred that convinced them of the truthfulness of the admonition. A party had gone out one day, on what is now the Indiana side of the river, and about a mile from the present site of the city of Jefferson-ville, where there was a famous spring of the most pure and delicious water, possessing medicinal properties, and which has since been a place of great resort by the pleasure and health seeking from various parts of the country. To this spring was given, by the pioneers, the name of Fontaineblecm. While the party were quafflng the waters of this Westem fountain of Hygeia, they were surprised by the Indians, and one of their number killed. This, with other depredations, and the hostilities which were being commenced in different sections, put an end, for the time being, to the settlement. So satisfactorily was the mission performed -with which the govemor "intrusted the hunter, that it was not long until he received a commission in the army, and was ordered to take charge of three garrisons on the fi-ontier. He per- foi-med every duty required at ^is hands -with singular skill and fideUty ; and when the great and bloody battle, which we have elsewhere described, was fought at Point Pleasant, he was in the van, doing execution as a gaUant soldier, who, to use his own expression, "never knew fear." THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 63 After this he was selected to head a company appointed by govemment, to whom was assigned the difficult and dangerous task of cutting out a road fi'om the Holston to the Kentucky Eiver. They had cut their way through the wilderness until they had reached a point about fifteen miles from where the to-wn of Boonesborough now stands, when the Indians, beholding this unmistakable sign of civilization, as the path of the pale face was being opened, became enraged, and commenced hostili ties. The road-makers, headed by the hunter, stood their ground, and succeeded in repeUing their attacks with such success that they were enabled, with the rifle and the ax, to make a path in the wU demess, over which the coming generations might find a home in the rich and fertile valley to which it led. It becoming important to set up a defense against the attacks of the Indians, our hunter caused a strong log fort to be erected. On the completion of this fort, a point was gained in the way of settlement, which was of all things the most desirable. Here the pioneers could rally, if attacked by superior force, and defend themselves from the assaults of the savages. Once more the hunter sighed for the companion ship of his wife and children, and, feeUng that if he could only succeed in bringing them safely across the country, here they would be protected, again he 64 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. returned home, and was successful in prevailing upon his wife to accompany him. Others, hearing of the road cut through the wilderness, and the strong fort which had been erected, united -with the famUy, and before they started the company consisted of twenty- seven armed men. The long joumey was performed, and all arrived in safety. InteUigence reaching the settlements of the success of the expedition, others were induced to start, and among the number the bold and daring Henderson filed into the Western highway, with forty fuU-armed hunters, weU pro- ¦visioned for the march. They too arrived, but there was room enough and to spare. It was not long imtil the ax followed the rifle, and the forest began to faU before the hand of civiUzation. The fort was the strong point about which they aU ralUed, as it was dangerous for any of them to ven ture too far, for savage blood was up, and the en croachments of the whites had aroused the Indians to desperate deeds. Among aU assembled in and around that stronghold, that city of refuge, none was more esteemed and beloved than the pioneer hunter. His superior could not be found, and he towered above his feUows in his o-wn native strength and dignity, though he was kind and complacent lo aU. Here it was determined to organize a govem ment, of which the fort was to be the capital. A THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 65 land office was opened by Colonel Henderson, and as there were in the neighborhood four settlements, it was determined that delegates should be summon ed from each, for the purpose of estabUshing a pro visional govemment. The spring of 1775 witnessed the assembUng of this pioneer legislature, composed of delegates representing a constituency of one hun dred and fifty settlers, and a territory, for extent, fer tility, beauty, and richness, never equaled. The pres ident. Colonel Henderson, called the assembly to order, and inviting a minister of the Gospel, Eev. John Lythe, a pioneer preacher, to address the throne of grace, the Legislature was opened in the name of His Majesty the King of Great Britain, the aUe giance of the mother country not yet having been thrown off by the colonists. He then delivered his address to the delegates, which would do honpr to a govemor, or a speaker, of the present day. He re minded them of the importance of laying a broad and strong foundation for the future, of enacting such good and wholesome laws as would command the respect, and secm-e the support of the people, for whom they were made. Among the laws enacted, was one proposed by the hunter, who was a leading delegate, having reference to the preservation of the game, and one, also, prohibiting profane swearing, and the profanation of the Sabbath. FinaUy, the Legislature adjourned, invoking, through their chap- 66 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. lain, the blessings of Heaven upon their laws and deUberations. In the course of the year, many more families came into the settlements, and among the number, the family of Colonel Callaway, who had come out in advance, and was a member of the Legislature ; Cal laway had two lovely daughters, and though they had grown in the wilderness, like the desert flower, they had a beauty and loveliness which nature only can impart. The arrival of these girls proved a joy ous event to the hunter's daughter, who, like them, was just blushing into womanhood. They were pio neer girls, and, like their fathers, they loved the woods, and the excitement connected with its scenes. One day, the three resolved on a canoe excursion. The Kentucky Eiver, near Boonesborough, presented a most enchanting scenery. Its waters fiowed along between banks untouched by the hand of man. Trees, and shrubs, and flowers grew in rank luxuri ance down to the water's edge, and were reflect ed back from its transparent surface. Entering their bark and seizing the light paddles, their canoe darted across the waters Uke a thing of life. Crossing and re-crossing from shore to shore, the current insensibly bore them down, as they would stop to talk, or gather the water lilies which gi-ew along the margin. At times, the soUtudes were made to echo with their joyous laugh. As the prow of their THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 67 Indian bark was nestUng among the flowers on the opposite bank, a swarthy Indian, who was concealed in the bushes, crawled through them Uke a black snake, and, sliding unperceived into the water, caught the rope which hung over the bow, and giving it a sudden jerk, tumed it up stream. The loud shrieks of the girls were heard at the fort, but it was too late, as four additional Indians immediately seiz ed them, and rushed into the wilderness. Soon men from the fort were on the bank, but the canoe, the only means of crossing, was on the opposite shore ; and none dared venture to swim the river, fear ing the Indians. The fathers were both absent on business, and it was night before they retumed. They were not long in selecting a party of brave hunters, and started in pursuit. Crossing the river, they soon entered a thick cane-brake; and, practiced as they were to track the Indians, they found it difficult to follow them, from the fact that the Indians, to elude detection, had passed through at considerable dis tances apart from each other. Every sign was care fuUy noted, and being conscious that they were m their track, they hurried onward to overtake iiem. Thirty miles had been passed over, but stiU they were not found. Their hopes, however, were mcreased by noticing less caution on the part of the Indians to elude pursuit, as their trail became more plain. FinaUy they discovered that the Indians had 68 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. entered a buffalo road, and were pursuing it. The pursuers now quickened their pace, being assured that they would soon overtake the savages. StUl they moved with caution ; for if they should be dis covered before getting within rifle shot, they would murder their victims and flee. After traveling about ten miles farther, they came at once upon them in a thick cane-brake. They were just in the act of kin dling their fire, and camping for the night. Each saw the other at the same moment. Instantly the sharp crack of four rifles was heard ; two of the savages fell as they were in flight, and the rest made their escape, leaving the girls and everything behind them, even their moccasins. The joy of those pio neers at recovering their captive daughters, may be imagined, but no pen can describe it. About this time General Clark, who had fought bravely at the battle of Point Pleasant, took the lead in military affairs in Kentucky, and the fort having been attacked frequently by the Indians, it was in ferred that there would be a concentration of warriors to destroy the fort and its inhabitants, as it presented the most formidable barrier in the way of the Indian, of any position in the West. So general was the impression that a darker cloud of war was gathering than had yet come over the country, that three hundred of the settiers retumed to their old homes, leaving, comparatively speaking, but a smaU handful. THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 69 In this crisis it was important to keep a look-out upon the Indians, and watch carefully all their movements, that, forewarned, the pioneers might be forearmed for any emergency. The general thought it most im portant to have spies sent among the savages, who would not only be able to report their numbers, but their designs. This was no easy matter to secure, and the difficulty was increased by not being able to get the right kind of men. Could the pioneer hunter and legislator be prevailed upon, all wotdd be weU ; but he had aheady been taxed more than any other man, and had performed more onerous duties than all in behalf of the country. Still he was not the man to flinch from responsibiUty; and, as he stiU felt con-vinced that through him the happy destiny of what was then the "Dark and Bloody Ground" was to be secured, he readily acceded to Clark's proposal. The general had selected for him, as a companion, the weU-tried and trusty Simon Kenton, a kindred spirit ; and together they started out, scouring the frontiers in quest of the Indians, and, when flnd ing them, watching with eagle eye all their move ments. Kenton was a practiced hunter, as well as a spy. He had acted in that capacity for the colonial army in the vicinity of Fort Pitt, and had, as a -wild and daring hunter, descended the Ohio, and ranged through the wilds of Westem Yirginia ; but hearing of the adventures of his now iUustrious companion, 70 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. and of the great hunting ground in which he had made his home, he resolved on visiting it. For the first time they had met ; and to them was intrusted the protection of that vast frontier. The spies would start out in different directions ; and, scouring the country for miles along the -wild borders of the Ohio, would meet at the time and on the spot they had designated, where they would recount their adventures and arrange their plans. After being satisfled that no immediate danger was to be apprehended from the Indians, the hunter returned to Boonesborough, and Kenton to his favor ite pursuit. It being important to have salt fbr domestic use, a party started out to what was called the Blue Licks, for the pm-pose of engaging in its manufacture. WhUe there, they were surrounded and captured by the Sha-wnee Indians, and the hunter was one of the number. They were in aU twenty-eight. The captives were taken to Old ChiUi cothe, where, after remaining some time, the hunter and ten other captives were sent through the -wilder ness to Detroit; whence, after continuing a month, he returned with his captors to Old ChiUicothe. The Indians became so much attached to him that he was adopted into an Indian family. With his brothers, so great was the confidence reposed in him, he went out frequently on hunting excursions, and thus became acquainted with the localities of one of the THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 71 richest valleys in the world. A Shawnee chief, losing his son, adopted him in his place, and paid great attention to him. He submitted to the ceremony of adoption, which consisted in having all his hair pulled out, except a smaU tuft on the crown of the head. After which all the white blood was washed out of him, by various ablutions, and he was painted a la Indicm, the ceremony concluding with a feast and a smoke. Submitting patiently to his captivity, as part of that destiny which he believed he had to work out, he waited the openings of Pro-vidence for his release, believing firmly that it would come, and he should return to his loved country. Knowing that he understood the manufacture of salt, he was accordingly sent out with a company to the Scioto Salt Licks fbr that purpose. Soon after his retum he found that the Indians were re-painting their faces, and burnishing their arms, for another attack on the fort at Boonesborough ; and he deter mined on making his escape in time to save it from the sui-prise of the desperate savages. Accordingly one moming, with a smaU piece of jerked venison, he started. He was now in his forty-third year, just in Ufe's prime, but perhaps not so fleet as formerly. It was to be a race, he knew, for life ; but he entered upon it with faith. He struck for the Ohio Eiver, and through deep forests, over craggy rocks, and creeks, and rivers, night and day, he urged his tire- 6 72 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. less course. At length he reached the Ohio; but the river was in ftiU bank, a mile in width. He feared to encounter the rolUng tide. Pro-viden- tially he espied an old canoe, which had drifted against the shore, -with one end stove in, and, spring ing on board, paddled himself safely over. He had been out four days and four nights, and had eaten but one meal. He was growing faint, yet pursuing in hope, for he was nearing Boonesborough. At length he arrived, and had he risen from the dead its inhabitants would not have been more surprised; besides, his appearance had changed to that of ap Indian. But where were his -wife and children ? The faithful and affectionate partner of his joys and sor rows had given him up for dead, ha^ving heard no tidings of him, and alone -with her children, with one exception, she had wended her soUtary way back to North CaroUna. Having apprised the inhabitants of the contem plated attack on the fort, additional defenses were thrown up, and every means resorted to, to render it impregnable. It had stood many an assault, and, Uke Gibraltar and Sevastopol, had been untaken by the combined forces of the Indian nations. It was the great stronghold of the West, and much depended upon retaining it, as it seemed to be the only point around which the hopes of the pioneer gathered in the midst of the storms of war. Every- THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 73 thing being in readiness for action, and a force left sufficient to guard it, our hero selected nineteen of the bravest of his companions in arms, and, with a ¦view of cutting off the approach of the enemy, or, at least, weakening their forces, started out on a foray, or sorlM-. Their object, was, of course, to meet the enemy, and, knowing the route they would probably take, they struck for the Ohio Eiver, and, crossing it, made their way for a small Indian town, called Paint Creek, up the valley of the Scioto. Before, however, reaching this place, they were startled by the crack of a rifle pro ceeding from a party on their way to join the great body of Indians, with whom there was an understanding to rendezvous at Old Chillicothe, and from thence proceed to the fort. The number of the Indians was thirty, and they were all chosen warriors. As might be expected, a desperate conflict ensued; but the work was soon accom plished. The battle was soon fought, and soon ended. The unerring shot of the Kentucky hunt ers told a dreadful work that day, and many a painted savage was made to bite the dust. Not a white man was killed; and the Indians, retreat ing, left all their baggage and three horses in the rapid flight. The town of Paint Creek was found entirely deserted of inhabitants, and the party, flnd ing no more Indians apart from the main body, 74 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. returned with all haste to the fort. Here they found everything in readiness for the contemplated attack. The fort contained in all but sixty-five men, besides the women and the children of the pioneers. It was now that the leader saw the mystery of his captivity revealed, and the inscrutable ways of that Providence which presided over his des tiny. Had he not been taken captive by the In dians, he would neither have known their strength nor designs ; and had he not been forced to travel through the wilderness in winter, encount ering incredible hardships in the weary march, he would not have become acquainted -with the relation the Indians sustained to the French, and the assistance they expected from them. But now he understood all their plans and prospects, and- had prepared for every emergency that might arise, even beyond his knowledge. It was not long until the enemy made their appearance, and the com mandant at the fort was not surprised to find among the four hundred and fifty hideously-painted and full-armed warriors, twelve Canadian Frenchmen and Captain Du Quesne — after whom Fort Pitt was named — at the head of the army. Though the chief, Blackfish, was the commander proper, he had resigned the leadership to the skillful Frenchman. This formidable army stood in front of the fort. In aU the due forms of war, a sum- THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 75 mons to surrender was sent from the commander. The hunter knew full well that his escape from the Indians, and his subsequent conduet, would secm-e his death should a surrender be made, and he knew that he could but faU in the defense of the fort, so he chose the latter alternative, and resolved to defend it to the last. In the mean time, a messenger had been dispatched to the eastern settlements for a reinforcement; and, as it would delay matters and give time for their an-ival before the siege commenced, the commander asked two days for deliberation, which was granted, and the best possible use made of it in adding greater sup plies of water and provisions to the fort. Du Quesne, having received orders from Governor Hamilton, at Detroit, to take the fort, but preserve the Uves of its inhabitants, and directing him to call out nine men from the garrison to negotiate a treaty, made the communication to the fort." When this order was communicated, those within the fort held a consultation, and, fearing it was a stratagem of the Indians, yet wishing to delay the confiict as long as possible, they agreed to accede to it, pro vided the treaty-ground should be selected within cover of the fire of the fort. The bold and heroic leader had, from one of the bastions, announced that they would never sur render while a man was left aUve, and that aU 76 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. their threats were vain; it was therefore the more probable that it was an Indian device to get the leaders in their power. And such it proved. The hunter and eight picked men went outside the fort, and met the treating party-^twice their number — sixty yards from the fort. Du Quesne proposed his terms, which were, that they were to swear alle giance to George IH., and submit to the Canadian govemment. In this event they were to Uve in peace, and have all their property. This was too much; and it was well understood by the leader that it was but a crafty device : still the treaty was signed. After this act was performed, Black fish, the chief, who had adopted the hunter as his son at Old Chillicothe, rose, and commenced a speech to his wamors. He said it was customary, when two great armies entered into a treaty of peace, to shake hands, and in doing so it was the custom for two Indians to shake the hand of each white man. The gauze was too thin not to be seen through at once by him who ha'd studied the Indian character; but both parties were unarmed, and believing, as he knew his men, that one was a match for two Indians, it was assented to. Just then a gun was fired as a signal, and the In dians, advancing with open hands, seized each their man, not with the grasp of friendship, but of deadly hate. They were the flower and strength of the THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 77 army, A desperate scuffle ensued, which served as a signal for an onset; and soon the Indians from the main body began to pour in, but it was only to receive the deadly fire from the fort, every shot telUng with fearful effect upon the advancing party. It was not long until the hunters were enabled to tear themselves from the grasp of the Indians, and fiee to the fort, and the heavy gate was closed and bar ricaded behind them. But one was wounded by the fire of the savages, and that one was the brother of the leader, the intrepid hunter who had four times crossed the wilderness. Du Quesne and Blackfish now ordered a direct attack upon the fort; and as there were woods in the neighborhood, it afforded the assaUants considerable protection. The attack was simultaneous; and amid the most unearthly yeUs a storm of buUets was poured into the fort. Soon as they could load they fired again, and kept up an almost incessant stream of lead. Not so, how ever, with the hunters of Kentucky. No fire was thro-wn away. They picked their men, and every shot told its work of death. One day passed, and a night, and then another day and a night, -without intermission. The hunter's brave daughter was there. Her love for her father had induced her to remain when the mother left, in hopes of his retum from captivity; and now that her loved sire was directing the battle, she, with trusty 78 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. rifle, was taking unerring aim, through the port-holes ofthe garrison, at the invading foe. But, alas! she, the heroine of the fort, with four others, was wound ed. A negro who had deserted had cUmbed a tree in the vicinity of the fort, and was pouring deadly shots at its inhabitants exposed to his aim. But he was discovered just in the act of firing, when a ball from the hunter's rifie brought the deserter and mur derer to the ground. On the battle raged. Day after day the enemy kept up their fire, until, finding they could not succeed in storming the fort, they commenced a mining operation, intending to dig a trench from the bank of the river to the fort. The clay which was thro-wn into the river discoloring the water, the work was discovered; and instantly a counter-mining operation was commenced, which en tirely thwarted their plans. Their next resort was to fire the fort; and, accordingly, flaming brands were thrown upon it. The flre caught the timbers, and for a time it seemed that the fate of the fort was sealed. There was no time for thought. Instantly a brave young man, a son of a pioneer who had been wound ed, mounted to the flames, and, amid a shower of balls from the savages, succeeded in extinguishing them, and descended in safety. At length, after a siege of nine days, the Indians, whose ranks were daily and hourly growing thinner and thinner by the deadly aim of the Kentucky THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 79 marksmen, raised the siege and dispersed, leaving the invincibles in their stronghold. But where was Kenton during this decisive battle? He had joined his fellow spies in their expedition to the Indian town on the Scioto, and in advance of them, daring and impetuous as he was, he had sui-pris- ed and at one shot killed two Indians, which brought around him at once the thirty warriors with whom the battle was fought that we have described, and in which he took a most active part. UnwilUng, how ever, to return with the nineteen to the fort until more booty had been secured, he went on to the encampment of the Indians, and after ranging the country in the midst of savages, he was not seen or heard of until the day after the siege was raised, when he rode into the fort on an Indian pony. After the battle, thoughts of home and children again preyed upon the heart of the pioneer, and he started to North Carolina to visit them. He arrived safely, and was again in the bosom of his family, who had mourned him as dead. His wife, beginning to beUeve, notwithstanding the fate of her first-born, whose ashes were resting in a wild glen of the Cum berland Mountains, and the many disasters that had befallen her husband, that he was ordained of Provi dence for the successful accomplishment of the work he had undertaken, was not unwilling again to ac company him to the West, and, after remaining some 80 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. time among his friends, he departed for Boones borough. Peace and happiness smiled around the dwellings of the settlers, and since the last battle, which we have described, they had not been molest ed by the Indians. Emigrants were arriving, fhe village was filling up, and farms were being opened in the rich surrounding plains and cane-brakes. In the fall of the year 1780, the hunter and his brother, who had fully recovered from the wound received at the siege, started out on a salt-making ex pedition to the Blue Licks, the place where he had before been captured. Past experience induced the greater caution, lest they might be surprised by the -wily savage, who was always lying in wait for blood. Having made what salt they wanted for their winter's use, they were returning leisurely home, when thoy were fired upon by a party of Indians, who were lying in ambush, and had, perhaps, been watching their movements for days. The brother fell dead upon the spot, and the hunter fied, pursued by the Indians, and a keen-scented, ferocious dog. He had reserved his fire, and it was well he had, for though he distanced his pm-suers, the dog, uttering terrific howls, was gaining upon him. Turning, he drew his rifie, and the beast uttered his last howl as he rolled dead into a ravine close at hand. He had run three miles, and, quickly re-loading, he hastened on. Finding that his pursuers had abandoned the THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 81 chase, beUeving, in aU probabiUty, that his Ufe was a charmed one, he slackened his pace, and leisurely pursued his journey to the fort. It was a melancholy day, as it added another to the Ust of the dead of those he fondly loved. The next summer, an attack was made on Bryant's Station, headed bythe craven-hearted Girty; and his brother-in-law fell. The Indians were finally repuls ed, and the settlers, rallying from all parts of the country, determined to pursue the savages, and expel them from the land. A large force met the enemy at the Blue Licks, where one of the most bloody bat tles was fought that has found record in the annals of the West. In that battle the hunter's son was slain, and many of the bravest of Kentucky's sons found a warrior's grave. General Clark, hearing of the fatal battle, pursued the Indians with a large ar my to Old Chillicothe ; but, being warned of his ap proach, they fled. After destroying the towns, and spreading desolation over the country, they left, im pressing the Indians so forcibly with their strength and power, that it put an end to Indian wars and depredations for a long time. There seemed to be only one thing that the Indians desired, and that was, to make a captive agsin of the Kentucky hunter, and an expedition was planned for that purpose. Finding that he had partially given himself up to the arts of peace, and was Uving in 82 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. quiet, cultivating his farm in the neighborhood of Boonesborough, four athletic Shawnees were detailed to go and watch his movements, and bring him, or his scalp, to the Indian settlements. They started on their expedition, and arriving at his place, they secret ed themselves in the woods, and watched his move ments. One day he went out a short distance from his cabin, to a house which he had erected for dry ing tobacco. The house stood in the midst of the patch. In the interior were three tiers, one above the other, on which the tobacco leaves were suspend ed. The lower tier having become perfectly dry, he was engaged in removing the sticks to the upper tier, preparatory to gathering the remainder. Hav ing hoisted the sticks from the lower to the second tier, he was standing on the poles that supported them, when the savages entered the low door, and calling him by name, they exclaimed, " Now we've got you ; you will not get away any more. We carry you off to Chillicothe this time ; you no cheat us any more." They grinned horribly, as with upturned faces and pointed guns they uttered these words. The hunter coolly and pleasantly responded, "Ah, my friends! glad to see you. How have you been this ioL.^ time ?" Seeing their impatience to have him come down, he said, "I will go with you, if you will only wait until I finish removing my tobacco. Stay where you THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 83 are. You see I can't get away; and watch me closely till I come down. You like tobacco. "Wlieu it is cured I will give it to you, and we wiU smoke to gether." Continuing his conversation, inquiring about his friends at the Indian town, and diverting their at tention as well as he could, he succeeded in getting together a number of sticksful of tobacco, and turn ing them in such a direction as that they would faU between the poles, directly in their faces, he instantly disengaged them; and, grasping his arms full, he sprang down upon the Indians, filling their mouths and eyes with the dry crushed tobacco until they be came so bUnd and suffocated in the close tobacco- house, that he made his escape and reached his cabin, where, seizing his trusty rifle, he gained the door, only to see the Indians running, blind and staggering, to the woods. But he who had braved the dangers of the wilder ness, and passed unhurt amid its wild beasts and savages, to open the gates of a Western Paradise, and expel from it all dangers, and guard it against aU foes, was even cheated by that most villainous of all classes of men, pioneer land speculators, out of his small inheritance within its wide domain. Cha grined, disappointed, and disgusted with the conduct of such men, and being unable to obtain redress; realizing that he had so far fulfilled his destiny as 84 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. to open up and secure broad and beautiful homes for others in that verdant, flowery land, though there was none for him, he gathered up what little effects he had, and retumed to Yirginia. Here he had an interview with Washington, the pioneer soldier, to whom he related his grievances, and whose manly and generous heart was filled with sympathy at the recital of his wrongs. But no redress came, and the rifle sup plied the hunter and his family with the necessaries of Ufe. While residing here, intelligence comes to his ears from his son in the far West, whither he had gone to seek his fortune, of a country rich and glo rious, beyond the Father of Waters. That country was Louisiana, and belonged to Spain; but it was nevertheless, open to the adventurer. He had now lived half a century, and his Ufe from childhood had been spent in the woods. He had traveled on foot from the Appalachian chain to the upper lakes, and all over the valley watered by the Ohio and its tributaries; and though he was verging to three-score, yet the force and fire of his fresh and vigorous Ufe were not abated. Though objects near and smaU could not be seen with the same clearness as in other days, his vision had increased in its far- reaching power. Like him who had guided the chil dren of Israel through the desert, when, after six score years, he ascended Nebo, on the borders of Canaan, "his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated." THE HTTNTEES OF THE WEST. 85 So the hunter, in looking from his mountain home to the wide-spread vaUeys of the sunny South, caught new life, and felt young again. "Mad Anthony," as he was caUed by the Indians, had spread terror among aU the ranks of the Western savages, and had formed a treaty at GreenviUe, in what is now Westem Ohio, which put an end to Indian hostiUties; and the country was rapidly set tling in aU directions. The ax in a great measure had taken the place of the rifie, or was always followed and associated with it — the one the type of savage, the other of civilized Ufe. A hah" century before, our hunter stood alone in the solitudes of the West, chasing- the bear, and deer, and buffalo; now the very range of his himting grounds was peopled by half a milUon. It was not, as some have vainly im agined, that he loved and courted soUtude because he hated his species. There never beat in man a kindlier or more philanthropic heart. WhUe he was a stranger to selfish and sordid emotions, he was aUke above mean actions; and he Uved and toiled for others, amid hardships and sufferings that would have crushed a thousand hearts. But we have said his far-reaching -vision was on the distant southern portion of the great vaUey ; and his ever true and faithful wife, who had stood by him in aU the early scenes of his eventful Ufe, was -wiUing to accompany him to that far-off land. The 86 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. journey was undertaken; and after the usual toil and danger attendant upon such an expedition in that early day, this pioneer family at length reached the home of their son, and there was, as may well be imagined, a joyful meeting. He had not been long in the country till the news of his advent was spread abroad through the territory. He whose name and fame had filled the upper valley, was not unknown in that distant region. The Lieutenant-Governor of Charles lY., King of Spain, (Don Carlos,) hailed with joy his arrival, regarding him as a most valuable ac cession to the Spanish govemment. In a short time he was appointed to the command of the district where he had taken up his abode; and, giving him eight thousand five hundi-ed acres of land on the Missouri Eiver, the govemor assured him that he should want for nothing. It is said repubUcs are ungrateful. If they are not, one thing is certain ; and that is, they do not make the same munificent provision for eminent services that monarchies do, nor yet is it so freely done. In the year 1803, Napoleon, the then reigning monarch, having possession of Louisiana, sells and cedes it to the United States, connected with the oracular declaration that he had given England a rival. In this transfer the hunter found himself once more a citizen of the republic ; and with it he also found himself again a houseless, homeless wanderer ; THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 87 but his rifle was left, and the forests of Missouri were fuU of game. Shouldering this friend of his youth, and companion of his later days, he penetrated the wil derness. He was now in his sixty-fifth year ; but far, far away he traveled, making the desert his home. While engaged in trapping for beaver he was exposed to many hardships and dangers. It required all the caution of which he was master to elude the savages of the Northwest. He concealed his camp by never striking a fire in the daytime. "When weU suppUed with furs he would visit St. Louis, and dispose of them for such articles as were needed for hunting. On one occasion it is related of him that he took pack horses, and penetrated the country on the Osage Eiver, taking with him a negro boy, about fourteen years of age. Here he camped out for the winter, but was unfortunately taken sick. One has -said, " Men did -not get sick in those days ; and if they did, their sickness was generally unto death ;" so thought the hunter. And thus impressed, on one pleasant day, he took his staff", and tottering along, told the boy to follow him. On arriving at a small grassy knoll, deep in the -wild wood, he marked out the ground in the shape and size of a grave. Then looking at the boy, he said, "If I die, bury me here." But his sickness was not unto death ; he had not yet done the eiTand of his destiny. His health 88 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. returned -with retm-ning spring ; and breaking up his camp, he retm-ned to the bosom of his faimly. Old age was now coming upon him ; and, as he would soon be unable to hunt, he memorialized Congress in relation to his Louisiana lands. After many vexa tious delays, he at length, in lieu of the eight thousand five hundred acres in Louisiana, received a title to eight hundred and fifty. In the mean time, his -wife, the brave, the noble- hearted pioneer mother, and faithful companion of the hunter, closed her earthly career. She had passed her three-score years and ten, and calmly she sunk into the slumbers of the grave. Her spirit was kindled -with the Ught of the better world as she neared its portals; and as a summer cloud fades away into the Ught of heaven, so she passed to the abodes of the blessed. The hunter had now more than ever his thoughts turned to another life, even to that world where injustice and oppression never enter, and where man is not the foe of his fellow-man; where death and sorrow cannot come ; where there are brighter fields and flowers, more verdant plains and mountains, and more beautiful rivers than " eye hath seen." Among his children and grandchildren he passed away in quietness the remainder of his days ; and when the soft breath of Indian summer kissed the Ungering flowers of the prairie, in the eighty-sixth year of his THE HUNTERS OF THE WEST. 89 age, the grave was opened beside that of his wife, that they who were "lovely and pleasant in their Uves" might "not in death be divided;" and all that remained of Daniel Booke, the Hunter of K&)ituclcy, was committed to the dust. 90 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. CHAPTEE lY. THE PIONEER SETTLERS. The Six Nations o-wned the counti-y west of the AUeghanies, including the great valley watered by the Ohio and its tributaries. AU this region, as early as 1684, had, by the treaty of Lord How ard, Govemor of Yirginia, been placed under the protection of Great Britain. Tliis treaty was re newed in 1701, and in 1726 a formal deed was drawn up and signed by the chiefs of these nations, formally ceding these lands to the British govem ment. In addition to tliis, lands in the West had been purchased. A treaty was held between the king's commissioners and the chiefs of the Six Nations at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in 1744, at which Conrad Weiser, who had before been sent out to Logstown, on the Ohio, acted as interpreter. This treaty was ratified by the payinent of certain sums of money and goods for lands already occu pied which were claimed by the Indians. On the basis of this treaty the Ohio Company was foi-med in 1748. Among the number of those PIONEER SETTLERS. 93 who composed this company were two brothers of Washingtonr. They had no sooner organized, than they petitioned the King of England for a grant of lands beyond the mountains. Their peti tion was fa,vorably received, and the monarch ordered the government of Yirginia to make the company a grant of one million acres of land in the locality they had designated. Two hundred thousand acres of this land was to be located at once, and the company were to be aUowed to hold it for ten years without rent or taxation, pro vided that within seven years they should settle it with one hundred families, and build a fort suffl cient to protect themselves from invasion. The proviso was accepted, and an order was imme diately sent to England for a cargo of goods suited to the Indian trade. Other companies were organized about the same time in Yirginia, whose object was to colonize the West. One of these, denominated the Greenbrier Company, received a grant of one hundred thousand acres of land. To the Loyal Company a grant of eight hundred thousand acres was made, extending from the Canada line north and west. This same year a trading-house was estabUshed, and a fort built, called Fort Prudhomme, on the Mississippi, below the Falls of the Ohio, and a trading-house opened among the Creeksj and subsequentiy one was estab- 94 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Ushed on the Miami. These were necessary and im portant auxiliaries to the companies, as they served not only to open up a commerce with the various tribes, but they furnished suppUes for the settlers. It is astonishing that in that early day there was such a quantity and variety of produce as it is ascertained was taken to the marts of trade. Farm ers and traders from HUnois took to Fort Prud homme fiour, corn, hams, pickled pork, beans, beef, myrtle wax, cotton, tallow, leather, tobacco, lead, iron, copper, buffalo wool, venison, poultry, bears' grease, oil, skins and coarse furs, and these were shipped fi-om thence to the New-Orleans market. Thousands of barrels of flour were sent from BUnois to this market during the years 1746 and 1747, upward of a hundred years ago. In 1752 a fort was built on Chartier's Creek, not far from the Youghiogheny Eiver, and the goods having arrived from England which the company had sent for, traders from the frontiers, and others who in tended settUng in the West, obtained them at Cumberland, whither they were sent, and packing them on horses — for there were then no roads — • transported them across the mountains. In the year 1760 the Ohio Company made addi tional requests of the British government, to enable them successfuUy to can-y out their plans and pur poses in the settlement of the West. They were PIONEER SETTLERS. ~ 95 allowed, through a treaty held at Fort Pitt, to erect forts within the lands aUotted to them. Up to 1767, England had, through the govemment of Yirginia, made grants of lands in the West, amount ing to upward of three miUions of acres. For the purpose of encouraging emigration to these lands, pamphlets were published describing the country, embracing an account of the agricul tural and mineral resources of the vast vaUey. These were widely scattered through the East;- and as books were scarce in those days, they were read with avidity and deeply pondered by brave and hardy New-Englanders, who saw, in the fertile val leys of the Ohio and its numerous tributaries, sources of subsistence and wealth they could never dig out of the thin, rocky soil of their farms. In ad dition to this, the company sent an agent to England to represent its interests, and make what further negotiations were necessary to enable them to carry out their plans in regard to settlement. About this time, the Transylvania Company was organized, and settlements were effected by emi grants at and around Boonesborough. North of the Ohio, however, but Uttle was accompUshed toward settlements, with the exception of a cabin and smaU clearing. The adventurous and daring Moravian, Post, had penetrated the -wUderness and estabUshed a mission on tbe MusMnguBi, not far from Beaver- 96 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. town, and erected a cabin. After having made the necessary arrangements with the Indians, among whom he had gone to preach the Gospel, and thus turn them fi-om darkness to light, he returned to the East for assistance, which he secured in the person of the equally enterprising and adventurous Hecke welder. Having, as we have already stated, made arrangements with the Indians, by which he was al lowed to preach, and instruct the children in the rudiments of an education, he commenced clearing a piece of grouiid around his cabin, for the purpose of raising corn, as he did not -wish to be dependent upon the Indians for a support. When the chiefs discover ed what he was doing, they inquired of him, if he had not changed his mind, for, said they, " You came here for the purpose of teaching our children to read and write ; but, instead of doing this, you are clearing land ; and if you do this, others may do it, and the next thing a fort will be built to protect them, and then they will claim the land and drive off the In dians, as they have always done, where they had the power." To this Post replied, " A teacher must live, and as I do not wish to be a burden on you, I wish to raise my own food." They told him that the French priests did not raise com, and yet they were fat and hearty, an^ that the Great Spirit, who fed them with out work, would also feed him. They concluded. PIONEER SETTLERS. 97 however, to give him a garden spot, the boundaries of which they defined, and from this he had to live as best he and his assistant could. Thesq Moravians cultivated their garden, and taught the Indians religion and letters, submitting to all the privations and hardships incident to a fron tier life, with a zeal, fidelity, and bravery that must ever secure for them the first place among the pio neer missionaries of the Ohio. Here they continued their missionary labors until the times became so troublous, in a warlike aspect, that the Indians ad vised tliem to leave the country, -which they did in 1763, and we hear no more of the Moravians until the year 1767, at which time Zeisberger went to the Alleghany, and, though much opposed by the In dians, succeeded in establishing a mission among them. He had the true Moravian spirit, and, not withstanding many threats and dark-concerted plots, he fearlessly pursued his heavenly calling, laboring to convince the children of the forest that he was not their enemy, but their friend, and that he was not seeking theirs, but them. Toiling on in hope, against hope, he finally succeeded, and several chiefs were converted to Christianity. But his labors stopped not here. The Delaware Indians on the Muskingum in-vited him to come and establish a mission among them, and in this invitation they were joined by the Wyandots. Accordingly, in the spring of 1772, Zeis- 98 , PIONEERS OF THE WEST. berger, with twenty-seven of his native converts, founded the mission at Shoenbrun, on the Muskin gum, the first Christian mission or Church of any kind established -within the limits of the present State of Ohio, the destruction of which, by worse than heathen white men, we have elsewhere described. Another land company was organized through the infiuence of Sir WiUiam Johnson, and Mr. Thomas Walpole, an eminent London banker, becoming con nected with it, and taking a large interest in its man agement, it subsequently assumed his name, and became kno-wn as the Walpole Company. The influ ence of Benjamin Franklin, through his son, was sought and secured in favoring the interests of this company with the British government. In 1767, Sir WiUiam was empowered with authority to pur chase from the Six Nations a large tract of land lying south of the Ohio Eiver. He accordingly call ed a Congress of the nations at Fort Stan-wix. At this Congress, the boundary line between the settlers and the Indian lands was determined as foUows, namely : Beginning at the mouth of Tennessee Eiver, and extending up the Ohio to Fort Pitt; thence up the AUeghany to Kittaning; thence across to the Susquehanna, including -within this boundary aU the lands south of the Ohio Eiver to which the Six Na tions had any claims. This tract included a district of country between the Kanawha and Monongahela THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 99 Elvers. The whole was by the treaty ceded to the British government. A grant of a portion of it was made to twenty-two traders, as an indemnity for spoUations made by the Indians in 1763. About this time a new company was formed in Yirginia, denominated the Mississippi Company, which petitioned the king for a grant of two miUions and a half of acres of landdn the West. To this peti tion the name of Washington, with that of other dis tinguished men of that daf, was afflxed. This peti tion was referred to the Board of Trade, but what was its fate no one knows ; at least, history is silent upon the subject. This same Board of Trade was called upon to report in relation to the apphcation of the Walpole Company, which was opposed by the president. Lord HiUsborough. The report of Hills borough caUed forth from Franklin an ably -written paper, entitled the " Ohio Settlement." The argu ments of this document were so cogent and power ful, that the king's council set aside the adverse report of the president, and granted the petition, much to the chagrin and disappointment of Hills borough, who, immediately thereupon, resigned the presidency of the Board. The petition received the sanction of the king, and the old Ohio Company was merged into that of Walpole's. Soon after this the Eevolutionary war broke out, and resulting, as it did, in dissolving aU connection -with the mother country, 100 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. nothing more is heard of this company, until Walpole and his associates petitioned Congress respecting their lands. They, however, obtained no satisfac tion, doubtless upon the ground that Congi-ess regarded all the previous contracts as nuU and void. In 1773, General Lyman, -with quite a number of miUtary adventurers, descended the Ohio and Missis sippi to the town of Natchez, and surveyed land, locating several townships in that region, and thus inviting the emigrant tb people the mighty West. Nor was it long until the tide set in that direction; and during the summer four hundred famiUes passed down the Ohio in the broad-horns, as the boats were called which fioated down the Ohio and Mississippi , in that day. Several years before this, however, Ebenezer and Jonathan Zane had effected a settlement at Wheeling. Families had settled in the then distant lUinois, and Kaskaskia and Cahokia contained upward of a hundred, the Illinois and Wabash companies having purchased of the Indians three immense tracts pf land, included in what is now the States of Indiana aud Illinois, and bordering upon the Ohio, Missis sippi, and Missouri Eivers. At St. Louis and St, Genevieve there were, in 1771, upward of twelve hun dred settlers, the most of whom were French, who claimed the country ; and it was not tiU ten years THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 103 later that the .Americans began to migrate to that region. The first fort erected -within the present boundary of the State of Ohio, with the exception of Fort Laurens, was that of Fort Harmar, at the moutli of the Muskingum Eiver. Fort Laurens was built on the Tuscarawas Eiver, in the then heart of the Indian country. Fort Harmar continued a strong hold for the West until 1790, when the soldiery were ordered down the river to Fort Washington, where Cincinnati now stands. Fort Harmar became the scene of many a thriUing adventure. Plans were frequently made for attacking it by the Indians; but with such poor success that they abandoned all hopes of taking it, and resorted to every mode of backwoods warfare to annoy and kiU the inhabitants. The valley on the west bank of the Muskingum was quite narrow, and the land rose up abruptly and precipitously, spreading back into dense and wild forests. In these solitudes the Indians would secrete themselves ; and whenever they could find any of the inhabitants away from, the fort, would spring upon them, and bear them into captivity, or shoot them down in their tracks, taking away their scalps as trophies of victory. Such was the state of ,the country, it being difficult to obtain provisions, that it became necessary for the inhabitants to cultivate the soU; and hence aU were employed in the proper 104 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. season in raising crops of com, from the rich alluvion of the narrow valley. The fort was not occupied exclusively by soldiers ; there were to be found among them brave and hardy pioneers, who had come out to seek their fortunes in the West. Among these were men of almost every vo cation and condition in life, constituting fragments of many families in the older settled parts of the country. Among the number of those who had braved the dangers of the West, was a young lawyer, by the name of Eeturn Jonathan Meigs. Necessity com pelled him, -with the rest, to lay aside his books and briefe, and take to the plow for a subsistence. He had planted a field of com on the banks of the river, about half a mile above the fort. Between his field and the fort was a dense wood, with only an obscure, narrow path. Having finished his work, one day, he was returning to the garrison, fatigued with toil, in company -with a friend and a colored boy, whom he had brought with him from Connecti cut. As it was customary, not only for the purposes of defense, should he be attacked by the Indians, but for shooting game, he always carried -with him his gun. As they were walking leisurely along, a large serpent came out of the thicket, and crossed the path just in front of the company. Meigs instantly drew up and fired at the monster, but without effect, and he gUded furiously away toward the river. THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 105 They had not proceeded far untU, from the same thicket, two Indians darted into their path, a few paces behind them. They fired, and shot Symonds, the friend of Meigs, through the shoulder, who, immediately on receiving the wound, rushed to the river, and, plunging in, gained, as well as he could, the middle of the stream, and, turning upon his back, floated dovra. to the fort. The black boy foUowed Symonds into the stream, and went out as far as he could wade ; but, being unable to swim, he was caught by one of the Indians, who dragged him to the shore, where he dispatched him -with his toma hawk, and scalped him. This he was obUged to do, or lose his prisoner, from the fact that a baU from the gun of a black man, on the opposite shore, whizzed close by the Indian's ear, admonishing him of his danger. After Symonds was shot, and had made his escape, Meigs started -with aU possible speed for the fort. What was his surprise to find one of the savages, armed with a rifle, directly in his path, waiting his approach! He had not, however, had sufficient time to reload his gun, and, with the exception of the tomahawk and scalping-knife, they were equal. The brave young man saw there was no time to lose, and his life depended upon a desperate onset. Clubbing his gun, or, in other words, converting his gim into a club, he rushed, 106 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. with all the impetuosity of which he was capable, upon the hideous savage, and aimed a blow at his head. But the Indian was prepared in like man ner to receive him, and blow was given for blow. Both staggered, but neither fell. But he had passed the Indian, and stopping not for a second attack, as he knew there were two of them, he ran with all possible speed to the fort, -with the Indian in hot pursuit. Fleet as was the Indian, Meigs outstripped him in the race. For sixty or seventy rods they ran with almost equal swiftness. There was a deep ravine to cross, which lay right athwart the ^ath. Meigs knew he could clear it, but doubted the Indi an's ability, as he had never tried the feat. Accord ingly, when he reached its edge, he bounded over. The Indian, seeing the wonderful distance he jumped, was astounded at his activity, and, slackening his pace as he neared the edge, he threw his tomahawk with all the might and precision of which he was master, and uttered a most savage yell. But it missed its mark, and the bold and daring pioneer lawyer escaped unhurt into the fort. Symonds was picked up by a canoe, and recovered of his wound, living afterward many years. Meigs continued on his pursuit of the law, working his way until, by dint of application and toil, the sure precursors of success, he rose to eminence at the bar, and sub sequently became govemor of the State of Ohio. THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 107 The tomahawk which was thrown at him was plowed up in a field, near the spot, in 1834, and is preserved as a reUc of pioneer Ufe. The Ohio Company reorganized in 1787, and petitioned Congress for lands, on consideration of a resolution passed by that body, to give to officers and soldiers of the Eevolution certain land bounties. At a meeting of the agents of the company. General Parsons, General Putnam, and Eev. Manasseh Cut ler, were appointed directors. They finally received a grant of nearly five miUions of acres ; one milUon and a half were for the use of the company, and the . remainder for private speculation. The com pany eventually, however, only obtained about seven hundred and fifty thousand acres. All the arrangements having been made by the company in sending forward boat-builders to the Ohio, and having an ordinance passed by Congress for the govemment of the Northwestern Territory, seven hundred troops being sent out by the govem ment for the protection of the settlers, many entered upon their westward journey, taking the Indian path, or road, across the mountains. AU that was neces sary to enable them to begin pioneer Ufe with they packed in wagons. Not-withstanding it was in the winter season, they braved the terrors of the -wil derness, and many families urged their way across the dangerous and dreary path, submitting cheer- 108 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. fully to all hardships, in hopes of reaching, ere the spring should open its fiowers, the broad and beauti ful valleys of their Western home. "When the various emigrant bands which had started, an-ived at Wheeling, on the Ohio, they found boats in readiness to take them down the river to the place of destination. There were forty-eight in aU, and a more intelUgent, enterprising association, never was formed for any purpose. They were coining out to found an empire in the West; and well did Washington remark, in relation to them, "No colony in America was ever settled under such favorable auspices." PeacefuUy their barque, the "May Flower," for that was its name, floated on the waters of La Belle Hi/oiere, foUowing its gi-aceful meanderings, and passing its many beautiful islands, in the spring of 1788. At lengtii the voyagers near the spot, on the right bank of the river, where they are to land. Before them, on a bluff at the mouth of the Mus kingum, Fort Harmar rears its crest, bristUng with guns, which command the river. But no hostile foe approaches. They are friends and brethren, and are coming to take possession of the ancient forti fications, on the opposite bank of the Muskingum, and build up a city on the monumental ruins of a race long since passed away. It is the seventh day of April, and the blossoms THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 109 which line the banks smile them welcome to the West as they land ; and fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, veterans of the Eevolution, with miUtary honors clustering around them; phy sicians, lawyers, venerable divines, scholars, artists, and farmers, step upon the shore, and take possession of their long-desired home. They pitched their tents and erected their cabins; and the time passed joy ously away, nothing occurring to mar their happiness or damp their joys. On the second day of July, a meeting of the di rectors and agents was held on the banks of the Muskingum, for the purpose of giving a name to the city in the West. They had erected a fort on the site of an ancient fortiflcation, for their protec tion, and had laid out the town into squares, the streets crossing each other at right angles. The name flnally agreed-upon was Marietta, in houor of Marie Antoinette, Queen of France. The square on which the block-house stood they called Campus Ma/rtius. An elevated square, north and east of this, they denominated Capitolium; still another, the Quadranou, they called Cecelia. The covert way, composed of high parallel walls of earth, leading down to the Muskingum^ was named Sacra Via. On the fourth day of July, the ever-memorable anniversary of the nation's independence, an oration was delivered, in honor of the day, by the Hon. James 110 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. H. Yarnum, who, -with Hon. Messrs. Parsons and Armstrong, were appointed to the judicial bench of the territory the year previous. It was an interesting occasion. They were all one party, and no differ ences of opinion could exist, such as now, unhappily, in too many instances, are found to divide the festi-vi- ties of this natal day. The day was celebrated at the fort, under the direction of General Harmar ; and as the boom of the six-pounder rolled over the watei-s, and sent its far-reaching thunder echoing among the hills, and waking the surrounding soUtudes, the voyagers by land and river felt their hearts dance within them for joy, and realized a full compensation for all the toils and hardships of their eight weeks' journey through the wilderness. We have already alluded to Fort Washington, farther down the Ohio, situated between the two Miamis, at the mouth of the Licking Eiver, in Ken tucky, which latter circumstance gave to the to-wn which was built around the fort the classic name of Losantlville — L'os anti ville. General Harmar, as we have before seen, having been ordered to Fort Washington, with his troops, in 1789, the settlers who came in commenced the erection of their cabins. At this time, exclusive of the fort, there were but two. The flrst-appointed governor of the territory, Arthur St. Clair, having arrived and established a provisional government, and arrangements having THE PIONEER SETTLERS. Ill been made for the peace and happiness of the com munity, the govemor changed the name of the to-wn from Losantiville to Cincinnati. Tho Indians being engaged in committing depreda tions, and killing many of the settlers, in the Miami country, it was necessary that a force should be sent out to put them in check. Accordingly, General Harmar sent out a company of militia, under Colonel Hardin, from the fort, and soon after started himself, with a large body of regular soldiers. The first en campment was made about seven miles from Fort Washington, on a branch of Mill Creek. Next, they encamped on the waters of Muddy Creek, a tributary of the Miami. At the next encampment, near where the town of Waynesville now stands, they overtook Colonel Hardin's company. Their next encampment was near Xenia; and from thence they passed on, encamping at regular intervals, until they reached ChiUicothe, an old deserted Indian -village of the Sha-wnees, on the Maumee Eiver. From thence they took a northwesterly direction, and crossing the Mad Eiver, they continued until they came to the Great Miami, and pursued their march to the Auglaize Eiver. After crossing this river, they were joined by a reinforcement from Cincinnati. Having arrived in the vicinity of the Indians, Colonel Hardin was ' sent forward with a detachment, and charged with the destruction of all the Indian to-wns on the Mau- 112 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. mee. The main body, continuing its course, joined Hardin again at Omee (Maumee) Town, which had been burned and deserted by the savages. Much corn was found buried by the Indians in the thickets. While reconnoitering in the vicinity of these towns, of which there were several in number, the Indians at night succeeded in steaUng a large number of the horses of the army, and it was evident that they were secreted in the woods. A backwoods strata gem was resorted to for the purpose of entrapping them. A horse was taken a short distance down the Maumee, and, being fettered, the party who took him secreted themselves in the woods. It was not long until he was found by the Indians. While engaged in taking off his fetters, they were shot by the soldiers in ambush. The report of the rifles reached the camp, and soon a large number of troops were at the place. One of the Indians killed was a Delaware chief. The army committed all the depredations they could, destroying the to-wns, and burning up thou sands of bushels of corn which they could not carry away, and then retui-ned to ChiUicothe. A detach ment, however, was sent further west, in pursuit of the Indians. This detachment consisted of a com pany of regulars, commanded by Captain Armstrong, and a company of Kentucky militia. They con tinued their march until they were all united under Colonel Hardin, who ordered Captain FauUmer, of THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 113 the Pennsylvania militia, to form on his left. At length the companies came upon the encampment of the savages. This encampment was well chosen for safety, as each entire side of it was cut off from the enemy by a deep swamp, ha-ving barely soUd ground enough to reach it at one point. The militia were two himdred in number, and being anxious for the conflict, that they might be revenged for the -wrongs they and the pioneer settlers had sustained, they made a charge upon the encampment ; but it was returned by a deadly fire from a large body of savage warriors. The Unes were broken ; and so desperate was the conflict that, in a few minutes, flfty-two of Hardin's company were killed. In their flight they met Major Foimtain, with a company of regulars, who, giving the pursuers battle, they were forced to retire, and the survivors arrived safe in the camp. This battle was fought about twelve miles west of Fort Wayne, in Indiana. Captain Armstrong being pursued, plunged into the swamp, and remained buried up to his chin in mud and water through the entire night, and was com peUed to listen to the midnight yells and orgies of the savages around the bodies of the slain. When daylight approached they retired to rest; and the captain, chiUed and overcome with fatigue, extricated himself, and, crawUng into a ra'vine, he was obUged to kindle a fire to restore feeUng to his benumbed 114 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Umbs, which he was enabled to do with his tinder- box, which he had upon his person. After warming and drying himself as well as he could, he started for the camp, which he reached in safety, much to the joy of his fellow-soldiers, who thought him among the slain. The army having been out now nearly a month, they left Chillicothe, and started for the fort at Cin cinnati. On their way a scouting party ascertained that the Indians had retumed to Omee Town. Har din was again dispatched to give them battle. He divided his force into two parties; the one com manded by himself was to attack the Indians in front,, and the other in the rear. As soon as the Indians saw their enemies, they began instantly to prepare for battle. They were on the opposite bank of the Maumee ; and as their nunabers were greater than Hardin's company, he saw at once the necessity of crossing immediately, and giving them battle. Before he had gained the opposite shore the battle commenced. The desperation of the savages was greater than ever known before. They even threw away their rifies, and, taking their tomahawks, they rushed Uke madmen upon their foes, carrying de struction in their path. Major Fountain fell in the engagement, being pierced -with fourteen balls, and Major WiUys, with fifty-one of his bravest men, was subjected to the same fate. Death spread into THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 115 the other divisions, and it seemed as though the whole force would be destroyed. But where was the division that was to attack the enemy in the rear? Until this hour nothing was heard from them, and the brave men fought on in hopes of their speedy arrival. They became lost in the thicket, and only arrived when the battle was about to turn on the side of the savages. They were not, however, able to turn the tide of war; and only arrived in time to save an utter extermination of the brave troops which remained, and allow them, under cover of their protection, to retire from the field. A most affecting incident occurred at the crossing of the river, previous to the general engagement. An Indian father, with his two sons, were in the river, near the opposite shore, when a ball from the rifie of one of the soldiers-pierced the elder, and he fell. The father instantly dropped his rifle, and taking his dead son in his arms, was hastening with him to the shore, to get out of the reach of the white men; but, alas! another deadly aim had been taken, and the other son fell lifeless by his side. Shifting the elder to his left arm, he grasped the younger, and bearing them to the shore, he sat down on the beach between his murdered boys, and resting his head upon his hands, in deep but silent agony, he awaited his own fate. Such affection and such heroism should have moved the hearts of any foe; but it was not enough that the 116 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. poor father had lost both his sons — ^the one the joy of his heart, and the other the Ught of his eyes—- he, too, must share the same sad fate, and the father was soon numbered -with his dead. Alas for poor himianity ! " That mercy I to others shew, That mercy sho'W to me." No wonder that the Indians fought with a despera tion to which they were before strangers. Fearfully was the death of that aged chieftain and his boys avenged. After this disastrous defeat under Harmar, Gov emor St. dlair assumed the command of the army, and proceeded to make preparations for another attack. In the mean time, a detachment from Ken tucky, headed by General Scott, arrived, and taking Colonel Hardin as a guide and commander, they pushed their way to the Indian settlements on the Wabash, and in several engagements were complete ly successful in routing the savages and destroying their towns, St. Clair receiving instructions from the president to organize an army of three thousand, for regular service at Cincinnati, at once engaged in the work. It being important to estabUsh a fort at the Miami viUage, two thousand regular soldiers, exclusive of militia, were removed from Fort Washington to Lud- THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 117 low's Station, six miles from Cinciimati, where they remained for some time, and from thence removed to Hamilton, twenty miles from Cincinnati, where they built the first in the proposed chain of fortresses for the protection of the frontier. After this was completed and manned, they proceeded on forty miles further, and erected Fort Jefferson, about six miles south of the town of Greenville. After the completion of the fort the governor ordered the army to march, and they entered the wilderness. The army by this time, in consequence of sickness and desertions, growing out of the hard ser-nce and poor fare, became much thinned and quite dispirited. Aft er marching for several days, on the third of Novem ber, 1791, they reached a branch of the Wabash, not far from the head watera of that river, on the banks of which they formed their encampment. The mili tia were encamped on the opposite side of the creek, about a quarter of a mile distant. The place of en campment was about fifteen miles from the Miami viUage. The Indians, aware of the advance of the enemy, ha-ving watched their movements ever since lea-ving Cincinnati, by means of thefr spies, had by this time gathered aU their forces from the surrounding coun try, and were in readiness to give them battle. They were aware it would require aU the strength and power of their allied forces, and they made prepara- 118 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. tions accordingly. They knew the strength and con dition of the army, and could calculate with far greater certainty on the probabiUties of success than the most experienced American officer in a wilder ness fight. Before sunrise, on the moi-ning of the fourth, the militia were attacked, and so sudden and desperate was the onset, that they were soon overpowered and driven into the general encampment. They were hotly pursued by the Indians ; and, notwithstanding the confusion and disorder created by the retreat, they received a galling fire. But soon the whole encampment, extending three hundred and fifty yards along the bank of the creek, was surrounded. They poured into the center of the encampment, where the artillery was placed ; though they were mowed do-wn by the heavy fire, their ranks were filled, and with great slaughter they drove the artillery from then- post. At this they resorted to the bayonet, which for a while seemed to do execution, and a general charge drove them back three or four hundred yards. But they rallied, and coming on with greater force than ever, again a fierce and bloody contest ensued, in which Major Butler, of the Second Eegiment, was dangerously wounded, and every offlcer but one of his staff was lying dead upon the field. It being im possible to continue the fight any longer, except at the expense of the total extermination of the army. THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 119 the remainder retieated as well as they could, forcing their way through the enemies' lines; and thus was the sad and melancholy defeat of Harmar followed by that of St. Clair. Subsequent events brought to Ught the fact, that the renowned chief Little Tur tle was the leader in both these campaigns. Tlius continued expeditibn after expedition, attended with greater or less success, until General Wayne, called by the Indians " Mad Anthony," took the field, and by his daring and bravery conquered the foe, and succeeded in concluding a treaty of peace at Green viUe, on the third of August, 1795. A settlement was made at Columbia, a few miles above Cincinnati, by a company of twenty-six, in November, 1788. Here the first churcli was built that is known of in the Northwestern Territory. Many thriUing incidents are connected -with the early settlement of this place, as weU as that of Cincinnati. They were then separated by a dense forest, but now they are connected by continuous rows of dwelUng and business houses. The scenery of the Ohio, between Columbia and Cincinnati, was in those days truly romantic ; scarcely a tree had been cut on either side, be tween the mouth of Cra-wfish and that of Deer Creek, a distance of more than four miles. The sand-bar now extending from its left bank, opposite to Sportsman's HaU, was then a smaU island, be- 120 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. tween which and the Kentucky shore was a nar row channel, with sufficient depth of water for the passage of boats. The upper and lower points of this island were bare; but its center, embracing about four acres, was covered with small cotton wood, and surrounded by willows extending along its sides almost down to the water's edge. The right bank of the river, crowned with its lofty hiUs, now gradually ascending, and now rising abruptly to their summits, and forming a vast amphitheater, was from Columbia, extending down about two miles, very steep, and covered with trees quite down to the beach. From thence, nearly opposite the foot of the island, its ascent became more gradual, and for two miles farther down, bordering the tall trees with which it was covered, was a thick growth of willows, through which, in many places, it was difficult to penetrate. Below this the beach was wide and stony, with only here and there a smaU tuft of willows, while the wood on the side and on the top of the bank was more open. Not far from this bank, and near the line of the present turnpike, was a narrow road, leading from Columbia to Cincinnati, just wide enough for the passage of a wagon, which, wind ing round the point of the hill above Deer Creek, descended northwardly about four hundred feet, and crossing that creek, and in a southerly direc- THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 121 tion ascending gradually its westem bank, led along the ground, now Symmes-street, directly toward Fort Washington, and diverging at the intersection of Lawrence-street to the right and left of the fort, entered the to-wn. An incident occurred in this vicinity of a thrilling character, in the summer of 1792j which resulted in the capture, by Indians, of 0, C. Spencer, Spencer, as he tells us in his o-wn narrative, had got on board a canoe at the bank in front of Fort Washington, which was just ready to put off from the shore on the aftemoon of the 7th of July. It was a small craft, and hardly fit to accommodate the party, which consisted of a Mr, Jacob Light, a Mr. Clayton, Mrs. Coleman, young Spencer, a boy of thirteen, and one of the garrison soldiers, which last indi-vidual, being much intoxicated, lurched from one side of the canoe to the other, and finally, by the time they had got up a short distance above Deer Creek, tumbled out, nearly oversetting the whole party. He then reached the shore, the water not being very deep at the spot. Spencer did not know how to swim, and had be come afraid to continue in the canoe, and was therefore, at his own request, put on shore where they left the soldier; and the party in the boat, and Spencer on shore, proceeded side by side. Light propelled the boat forward with a pole, while 122 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Clayton sat at the stern, with a paddle, which he sometimes used as an oar and sometimes as a md- der, and Mrs. Coleman, a woman of fifty years, sat in the middle of the boat. One mile above Deer Creek, a party of market people, with a woman and child on board a canoe, passed them on their way to Cincinnati. Light and the others had rounded the point of a small cove, less than a mile below the foot of the island, and proceeded a few hundred yards along the close -willows here border ing the beach, at about two rods' distance fi-om tho water, when Clayton, looking back, discovered thd drunken man staggering along the shore, and re marked that he would be ^^icdt for Indioms?' Hardly had he made the remark, when two rifle shots from the rear of the -wiUows struck Light and his comrade, causing the latter to fall toward the shore, and wounding the other by the baU glancing from the oar. The two Indians who had fired, instantly rushed from their concealment to scalp the dead, and impede the escape of the Uving. Clayton was scalped, and Spencer, in spite of all his efforts to get off, was made prisoner; -but Light soon swam out of reach of his pursuers, and Mrs, Coleman, who had also jumped out, preferring to be drowned to falUng into the hands of Indians, fioated some distance off. The Indians would prob ably have reloaded and fii-ed, but the report of THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 123 their rifles brought persons to the opposite shore, and, fearing to create further alarm, they decamped with their young prisoner in haste, saying, " Squaw must drown." Light had first made for the Ken tucky shore, but, finding himself drifting under all the exertions he could make in his crippled state, directed his way out on the Ohio side. Mrs. Cole man followed as well as sbe could by the use of her hands as paddles, and they both got to shore some distance below the scene of these events. Light had barely got out when he feU, so much exhausted that he could not speak ; but, after vomit ing blood, at length came to. Mrs. Coleman floated nearly a mile, and, when she reached the shore, walked do-wn the path to Cincinnati, and crossed Deer Creek at its .mouth, holding on to the wiUows which overhung its banks, the water there, in those days, fiowing in a narrow curl-ent that might almost be cleared by a spring from one bank to the other. She went direct to Captain Thoi-p, at the artificer's yard, -with whose lady she was acquainted, and from whom she obtained a change of clothes, and rested a day or two to overcome her fatigue. In the mean time other settlements were being made in different parts of the Westem country; but as the history of any one of them would, of itself, make a book larger than the one we contemplate, we can only refer to them, giving the merest outUne, 8 124 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. -with some incidents connected -with their history, which may serve as landmarks to the future historian who may wish to enter into detail. Perhaps one of the most interesting, if not roman tic, settlements made in the West, was that effected by the French, in the spring of 1792. While Wil kinson, who had succeeded St. Clair in command of the army, was examining the field of carnage where the soldiers from Cincinnati feU, and General Eufus Putnam, the pioneer of Marietta, in company with the pioneer missionary, Heckewelder, was endeavor ing to effect a peace -with the Indians, a large num ber of families from Paris, in ^U four hundred, having descended the Ohio, which their countrymen at Fort Du Quesne had named La Belle Bi/viere, landed at a point four miles below the mouth of the Great Kanawha. Among the number were priests, lawyers, physicians, watchmakers, jewelers, portrait and landscape painters, carvers, lapidaries, engravers, engineers, dyers, carpenters, ship-builders, and other trades. It was unfortunate for them that they had but few among them who understood anything about cultivating the soil, and these were hired to accom pany them, while not one of them knew anything about Ufe in the woods, never having reared a cabin or cleared an acre. The company which sold them the land, in Paris, having agreed, on the payment of one French cro-wn THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 125 per acre, to transport them across the country free of cost, and have' erected for their reception suitable houses, they proceeded on their way with that joy and hilarity characteristic of the French people. As we have already intimated, they had arrived at their place of destination, and were about to take pos session of their distant Westem home. When they entered Oallvpolis, the French city, what was their astonishment to find, instead of a beautiful village, with its neat cottages, and trees, and flowers, rows of unhewn log-cabins, -with wooden chimneys, clap board roofs, and puncheon floors, three of which, all of the same size, ranging on each side, con stituted a street, extending in length about one hundred feet, at each extremity of which were erected two log stockades, for their protection. In the rear of the to-wn — where they had been informed gracefully meandered, among beds of living green, and flowers of every hue, a pearly brook — they found the muddy Chickamauga Creek, with its red clay banks, covered with burs, briers, and Canada thistle. This was the country which had been represented to them in Paris, as being watered by the " beautiful river, abounding in fish of enormous size, magnificent forests, containing trees from which the sugar flowed in abundance, and shrubs which yielded candles, venison in greatest plenty, without foxes, wolves, 126 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. lions, or tigers ; no taxes to pay, no military enroU- ments, no quarters to find for soldiers." They had been betrayed, basely betrayed, by the soulless speculator. Finding themselves deceived tn all the representations of the agent of the company, they began to think that even the beggarly inherit ance they had pm-chased was itself a fraud ; and such proved the fact. Their deeds were not worth a farthing; and they found themselves homeless and penniless in a strange land. Notwithstanding aU this, true to the French character, they did not yield to despair. Tliey were not -without their dancing- masters and their violins; and the hours of night were made glad with the merry dance. But they were here, and they must make a Uving. The " magnificent forests," consisting of huge sycamores and elms, must be felled, and a spot cleared for the cultivation of the soil ; but what could carvers, and gilders, and coachmakers, ¦with their feeble instru ments, accomplish in felUng these mighty trees, whose giant arms spread out on aU sides? No time, how ever, was to be lost, and at it they went, surrounding the mighty trunk ; and -with picking, and cutting, and hacking, they worked away. While thus engaged, one man was stationed at some distance from' the tree, that, when they had nearly hacked their way through it, he might, by its inclination, ascertain the direction in which it would fall. When the hour THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 127 arrived, or rather the fatal moment came, for the fall of the monarch of the Ohio, the sentinel gave a loud, French yell, and instantly every man took to his heels to escape the crashing monster. Unfortunately, some would run in the direction of the falling tree, and would be crushed to death, while others would be caught by the wide-spreading limbs. Had they remained by the trunk, and watched the direction of the faUing tree, they would have escaped all danger ; but this was a secret in woodcraft to which they were strangers. When the tree was down, they fell to work to cutting off the Umbs; but having accomplished this, they knew not what to do with the enormous trunk, that cumbered the ground vastly more than when standing. At length they hit upon the expedient of burying it: a work as useless as it was laborious, so far as clearing the ground was concerned. For days they would toil in digging its grave, and, after get ting all things in readiness, the whole force of the city would be summoned to heave the conquered giant of the woods into the ditch they had dug for him. Finding their present mode of operation a dangerous one, they adopted another, which was to send a man up the tree they intended to cut do-wn, with a rope; and, making it fast above, leave the other end on the ground. "When the tree was nearly cut through, aU hands would go beyond its reaich, 128 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. and, pulUng at the rope, would bring the tree do-wn in the direction they wanted it. One good back woodsman with his ax would accomplish as much in one day, and perhaps more, without fatigue and without danger, than a whole company of these Pari sians. Instead of cutting up the tops and branches into fire-wood, they were cut up and thrown into heaps, and bumed. DeUcate young men, who had spent their early life in the schools of Paris, joined with the rest in this laborious toil; and after laboring hard for a year, received one third of an acre of the cleared land as a recompense. Disheartened and sad, many of them removed to French settlements elsewhere in the country; but the majority of them remained and toiled on. They -wrote to Washington their grievances, and we have seen his autograph reply, in which he sympathized with them, and demonstrated his sincerity by ex erting his influence in their behalf with Congress. They came in the midst of the Indian wars which were desolating the country, and five of their num ber were taken into captivity by the savages. In addition to all their troubles here, they heard of the carnage of the infidel revolution, that was filling their beloved fatherland with the slain. Sickness also came upon them. A stagnant marsh behind the town, near the borders ofthe "translucent Chick amauga," sent up its miasma, and many died. Food THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 129 was scarce, and they had to depend mostly upon the trading boats on the river for pro-^dsions, for which they had to pay the most exorbitant prices. Their means were becoming day by day exhausted, and the future wore a most gloomy aspect. Nor yet did they give way to melancholy. Twice each week they came together and joined in the dance, and "All ¦(vent merry as a marriage beU." Thus they danced away hunger as weU as duU care. The Indians, who would lurk in the thickets and prowl around at night, chanced once to hear their music and the sound of their rejoicing; and though they had been sent as spies in advance of a contem plated attack, they returned with the inteUigence that the pale faces would be upon them, as they had heard them at their war-dance. Congress, however, came to their relief, and in 1795 made to them a grant of land containing twen ty-four thousand acres, on the Ohio, opposite Little Sandy. To this Uberal grant was subsequently added twelve hundred additional acres, since known as the "French Grant." Hie French had continued to oc cupy their city; and, as they became acquainted with the country and modes of Ufe, they overcame the ob stacles by which they were smTounded. The old log- houses, in process of time, gave place to good sub stantial frame and brick dweUings. A large and 130 PIONEEES OF THE WEST. beautiful court-house has taken the place of the old one, the morasses have been filled up, the streets and landings graded and paved, churches and school edi fices have been erected, and a large and enterprising population now occupies the site of the gay and hap py French emigrants who toiled, amid the greatest disasters and discouragements, to leave an inheritance for their children. But we must return to the pioneers on the Muskin gum, (the Indian name for Elk's eye,) who effected the first permanent settlement in the Ohio vaUey. This company of emigrants possessed greater elements of strength, and were better adapted for laying the foundations of Westem empire, than, perhaps, any other that ever turned their attention to the West. Unlike the gay, mercurial Frenchman, they belong ed to a sterner and sturdier race, having gro-wn up amid the toils and hardships of a life in the new world. While they brought with them farmers and tradesmen of aU occupations, suited to a frontier life, they were not immmdful of the necessity of provid ing for moral and intellectual wants. With them came a minister of the Gospel, Eev. Darnel Story, who was charged not only with the care of the citi zens, but the soldiers in tiie garrison, and to him, also, was intrusted the education of the youth. Though not the first, he was, nevertheless, a pioneer preacher ; and while he could preach the Gospel, at THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 181 the same time he could handle the plow and teach the young idea how to shoot. His fellow pioneer,^ Meigs, could take a fight, or a foot race with the savages, and also could invoke the muses from their Parnassian heights to inspfre his song. He was the pioneer poet, and his verses would compare favor ably with much that passes for poetry at the present day. Preaching, and teaching, and poetry aside, let us turn to other things of more interest just now. It being the policy of the agents of the Ohio Company to encourage settlements in some of the more remote points of their purchase, not only for the speedy occupancy of the country, but also to form a frontier for the main portion of the colony, they resolved to grant to settiers in such locaUties as might be point ed out, one hundred acres of land. One of the provisos of this resolution was, that no settlement should be made of a less number than twenty strong, healthy men, who should provide themselves with arms and ammunition, and erect a block-house for their defense from the Indians. Under these cir cumstances, quite a number of settlements were made in 1789, 1790. In the autumn of the latter year, a company of thirty-six organized themselves, and made a selection of a fertile tract on the Muskin gum, about thirty miles from Marietta, and four miles above the moutii of Meigs's Creek. The first 132 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. thing they did after arri-ving at the spot, which was on the west side of the Muskingum, in a rich, low bottom, was to erect their fortifications. A few rods back from the garrison, the land rose in gentle acclivity on to a higher bottom, and spread back in a beautiful plain to the foot of the surrounding hiUs. The Indian war-path from Sandusky to the mouth of the Muskingum lay on the opposite bank of the river, in fuU view of the garrison. The company consisted almost entirely of young men, inexperienc ed in the modes of Indian warfare, though daring and enterprising. They knew not that the Dela wares and Wyandots had sworn around their council fires, that before the leaves should be green and the trees blossom in the spring, the smoke of the cabin of every pale face this side of the Ohio should not be seen; nor, indeed, was tiiis fact known to any of the settlers. They had erected their block-house, and two of them had marked out their lots and built their cabins, preparatory to clearing in the spring, which they occupied while the remainder lived in the fort. Midwinter had come, and as the weather was ex tremely cold, they had no idea that the savages would leave their winter-quarters at such a season. But, alas! how were they mistaken. Already, on the opposite shore of the river, which could readily be crossed on the ice, dark, savage eyes are on them, THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 183 watching all their movements, and ready to pounce upon them as the panther on his prey. When the shades of night gathered around, and the party in the unpicketed and unsentineled fort were cooking and eating what proved to be their last earthly meal, a stout, swarthy Mohawk opened the unbarred door, exposing all the inmates, who were gathered around the fire. The signal was given, and before they had time to seize their arms, which were stack ed in the corner, aU fell by the deadly aim of the Indians, except a stout backwoods Yirginia woman, the wife of a pioneer hunter, and two young men, one of whom ascended the ladder and escaped to the roof only to be shot the moment he was seen, and the other, hiding in some bed-clothes, was subsequent ly dragged forth and made a prisoner. The heroic wife of the hunter determined to seU her life as dearly as possible, and seizing an ax, she made a blow at the head of the huge Mohawk, and the whole side of his face and his shoulder were cloven asunder by the force. Soon, however, a rifle ball pierced her, and she fell among the slain. In the mean time, those in one of the cabins were made prisoners, while those in the other, seizing their guns and ammunition, made thefr escape. Directing their course down the river, they arrived late at night at the hunting camp of Mitchell, with whom Captain Eogers, a soldier of the Eevolution, and a fine 134 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. hunter, together with a Mohican Indian, were living, Mitchell being absent. When Eogers and the In dian heard of the massacre, they took their blankets and rifles, and, crossing the river, started for the set tlement at WoU" Creek MiUs, to apprise them of their danger. As soon as they arrived, and communicated the sad intelligence, aU the men, women, and chil dren took possession of the largest and stoutest cabins, and- prepared for an attack. Port-holes were opened in the chinking between the logs ; and, every man at his post, they watched in the stillness and darkness of that gloomy night for the approach of the enemy. At length the savages made their ap pearance, but they were cautious enough not to come within reach of the hunter's rifle; and after reconnoitering awhile they darted into the woods, and the startled settlers heard of them no more in that neighborhood. Not so, however, with the set tlers at Planefield. No sooner had they left than the heroic Eogers was out, and in advance of them gathered together the families. One of these was a widow with eight children, the two oldest of whom were sons. It was now past midnight; and tiie peaceful inmates, awakened from their sleep, were obliged to leave their cabins and brave the severity of the wintery weather. James and iDaniel Converse • — ^for these were the names of the two sons of the widow — ^immediately started, and visited every cabin THE PIONEER SETTLERS. 135 within two miles, to warn the settlers of their danger. At length all were assembled in the only block-house in that region. There were in all sixty souls ; and had it not been for the escape of the two from the Big Bottom slaughter, they would all, doubtless, have been murdered in their cabins before morning. The night passed away -without any sign of the Indians ; and when the moming came, Eogers and a party of men started for Big Bottom, to look after the fate of the settlers: it was only, however, to find their charred and blackened bodies, as the Indians had partially fired the fort before leaving. Young Daniel, the widow's son, was soon after taken captive by the-Indians, and carried to Detroit, but was subsequently liberated. He afterward became a pioneer merchant in the town of Zanes- ville, where he was a useful and respectable citizen until he died. Settlements were made at Belpr6, or Belle Prairie, Maiichester, Point Pleasant, Limestone, at the mouth of the Scioto, at North Bend, and other points along the Ohio ; and also in the interior, and out West, as far as Blinois, at all of which border incidents occurred that would take volumes to nar rate. Some of them are of so wonderful and mar velous a character, that even those who were bom and have grown up in the West can hardly credit them as reaUties. Scenes have been enacted on the 136 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. very ground where our peaceful dweUipgs stand, that, for thrilling interest, cannot be outdone by the most fruitful and fervid imagination. We can only select a few, which may serve to show what were the toils, and hardships, and perils of the pioneer settlers of the West. THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 137 CHAPTEE Y. THE PIONEER PREACHERS. We have elsewhere aUuded to these self-sacrificing and devoted men; many of whom, in advance of civilization among the savage Indians and the rude white settlers, came into the wilderness to seek the lost. Before even the cabin was ready for its occu pant, and before the school-house and court-house were erected, both of which served, in an early day, for places of religious worship, these pioneer heralds of the Gospel blazed their way through the forests ; and in the woods and cabins, and sometimes in the bar-rooms of viUage taverns, the only pubUc place of meeting, have they opened their mission, and caUed thefr feUow-men from the ways of sin and transgres sion to the ways of righteousness. We have alluded to the Jesuit, who planted his cross on the far-off shores of Western lakes and rivers, and who repeated his Ave Marias and Pater Nosters, and sung his Te Deums, in savage -wilds. We have also spoken of the Moravian, who foUowed the Indian in his wanderings, and instructed him in the arts of 138 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. civilization, as weU as in the faith and duties of Chris tianity; whp counted no toil too great, or hardship too severe, to bring the sons of the forest from their wild and savage worship to the knowledge ^of a sim ple faith and pure form of worship. Yolumes might be -written conceming the labors and sufferings of each of these heroic pioneer ministers of the Christian faith. We shall devote this chapter to the relation of a few incidents. Nearly seventy years ago, a youthful preacher, one whose bones had scarcely hardened into manhood might have been seen recei-ving from a pioneei bishop, at an Eastem conference, an appointment to the West. With no outfit but a horse, and a pair of saddle-bags containing his Bible, Discipline, and Hymn Book, and perhaps a change of Unen, he turned his course toward the setting sun. His field of labor was the West New Eiver Circuit, in what was then called the Holston country. His circuit included all the settlements on the east and north forks of the Hol ston Eiver, and aU those on the Clinch Eiver, as well as a portion on the Greenbrier, embracing hundreds of miles. Here he continued to preach from cabin to cabin, finding his way as best he could, often without a path in the wilderness, and unattended by any hu man being. Whole days of weary travel would be spent in going from one settlement to another; and often the night would be far gone before reaching it. THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 189 The appointments being made for every fom- or six weeks, the settlers would have a knowledge of the time of the preacher's visits; and they would collect together from the distance of many miles. If the preacher should be belated, they would spend the time in singing and prayer; and often, when he ar rived, has he left his saddle, the seat of which Tie has occupied the entfre day -without rest or refreshment, and, entering the cabin, held forth the word of Ufe. When meeting was over, the people would light their pine torches, if the night was dark, and go home, making the woods echo with some favorite hymn. Eeader, have you ever heard pioneer singing in the woods at night? It is not d la operaOo, with its screeches and triUs, outshaming aU nature and mel ody too; but rich, melodious, natural, and such as fills the heart -with sublimest emotions. In it there may not be the highest contralto or lowest soprano; but there -will be a spirit, a very soul and power, that will touch the chords of the human heart. Whatever may be said of improvement in sacred music — and we are decidedly progressive in our tastes and habits — give us the full, round chorus of the whole congre gation uniting in the praise of God, even if it should be at fault in artistic accuracy. The very memory of the songs of Zion which we heard in our early Ufe are pleasant to the soul. Alas ! that, like past joys, they are never to retm-n! 140 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Our itinerant, having preached his sermon and re ceived refreshment and rest, must start in the moming for his next appointment. Before lea-ving, he would select the text for his next discourse, and while trav eling, would study out its dj-visions, or, in other words, make his skeleton and clothe it with sinews and fiesh, and, when he preached it to the people, breathe into it the breath of life. The pioneer preacher had not the helps enjoyed by the preacher of the present day. If he could not walk alone, no crutches were provided. Skeletons and sketch-books, pulpit assistants and preacher's manuals, and sermons and commentaries were then out of the question ; and even if he had them, he could not carry, them with him in his saddle-bags. They were shut up to the Bible, and its study alone, and this we may safely affirm was the secret of thefr power. Communing, as tiiey did, with the Divhie Mind, through the written word, they came before the people as Moses came down from the burning mountain, and the words they spoke were fuU of spirit and Ufe. Much is said and -wi-itten about the ministry needed for the times, and great stress is laid upon a thorough theological training, aU which is right, and no minister of the present day, -with the faciUties enjoyed, should content himself -without it ; but, after aU, there is a one thing needful — a sine qua non — a thorough baptism into the truth and Spirit of THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 141 God, a consecration of soul and body to the work of the ministry, to the ignoring of everything else, that can_only make successful ministers of Jesus Christ. The pioneer preachers did not get their systematic theology from human productions, filled with human speculations and finespun theories about election, reprobation, eternal filiation, et csetera; but they drew their systems directly from the Bible, the Uving fountain of eternal truth. When, therefore, they preached a doctrinal discourse, it was thor oughly Biblical and sound. Nor did they go to any system of moral philosophy to leam what were man's rights on the one hand, or his duties on the other. The ethics of the New Testament were sufficiently copious and clear to shed light on aU these subjects. Our pioneer traveled through the wilderness, preaching from place to place, until the Indians invaded the country and commenced their depre dations. StiU, though thus interrupted, wherever he could get a congregation in the woods, or in a cabin, he was always ready and willing to preach to them the Gospel. He did not receive salary enough to keep his horse, had he been under the necessity of purchasing his feed. All that was allowed him was a sum less than one hundred doUars; and should he, by chance, have received more, it must be accounted for, and the proceeds taken to conference, to make up the deficiencies of 142 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. those who had not received their pay. Any smaU present that might have been made had also to be accounted for; and we recollect distinctly of re porting a pair of socks given to us by an old lady, in lieu of quarterage, when traveling French Grant Circuit in 1835, the whole amount of salary received during the year by the presiding elder, E. O. Spencer, and two preachers, not amounting to one hundred dollars. WeU did General Harrison say, that "though the circuit preachers of early times did not take, like the Jesuits, the vow of poverty, their condition and circumstances were precisely the same as if they had taken such a vow." What is said of the pioneer itinerant may, in a great degree, apply to those pastors of other de nominations who came out in an early day to feed the sheep in the wUdemess. An incident occurred in the westem part of Pennsyl-v-ania, in an early day, that wiU illustrate this remark. A Presby terian minister had crossed the mountains for the purpose of preaching the word of Ufe to two set tlements, one of which was located at what was called Cross Creek, and the other at Upper Buf falo. His congregation was much attached to him, and did all they could to promote his welfare, but they were too poor to render him much aid. To be sure, they agreed to pay him a stipulated salary, but were unable to complj with thefr promises. THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 143 As it was, the pastor was obliged to get a farm, and take to the plow and hoe, to dig a living out of the earth. The settlers were as bold and hardy a band as ever entered the wilderness. They had built their cabins, and feUed the forest around them, even in the midst of. the greatest perils. The Indians would often cross the Ohio, steal their chil dren and horses, and kill and scalp every hapless victim that might fall in their way. The conse quence was, that these pioneer farmers had to work with their rifles by their side. When they repaired to their rude log church to engage in religious worship, their rifles were as necessary an accompaniment as their Psalm Books. Among this people the pioneer herald of the Gospel took up his abode. Having purchased a small farm, partly cultivated, he would toil through the week, when not otherwise engaged in pastoral labor, and preach to his people on Sunday. Ho expected to pay for his farm out of the salary which his people had pledged for his support. Years passed away in their rapid flight. The pastor was unpaid, and the debt he owed for the farm was increasing with the accumulating interest on the money. At length the period arrived when the creditor, becoming impatient, demanded his pay, declaring that he would wait no longer, and if the amount was not forthcoming, the occupant must 144 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. leave. Money was out of the question, as there was none in circulation. Of produce there was a great abundance, particularly wheat; but for this there was no market, and it was considered, in backwoods parlance, " a drug," at twelve and a haU cents per bushel. For their salt, which had to be brought on pack-horses across the mountains, they had to give in exchange for one bushel, twenty-one bushels of wheat. StiU, cheap as was this latter article, there was enough to pay aU the claims of the pastor, and to spare; but it was impossible to convert it into cash. What was to be done ? The preacher had extended the clearings and made many improvements npon the farm, and aU this must be lost and his home given up. Besides, he was becoming advanced in years, and the strength of his youth had departed. With the loss of his farm he must also give up his beloved flock, and retum to the East to seek one which could render him a support. At this crisis the people were called together, and the case laid before them. The intelUgence com municated by the pastor greatly moved them; they aU united in prayer to seek the Divine aid and guidance. Suggestions were made and plans pro posed for meeting the difficulty, but still no light dawned' The congregations of both places we have named were hopelessly in debt to their pastor ; and THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 145 they could neither get nor borrow the money to pay him. Three or four years' salary was behind, and every day only increased their indebtedness. In despair of finding any mode by which to extricate themselves from the difficulty, they adjourned to meet again in a few days, trusting that Providence would open some door of deliverance. In the mean time it was ascertained that a gen- t'leman who owned the only miU in that region of country would grind meal for them on moderate terms. Hence it was resolved at the next meeting, that each member should take his wheat to the miU in such quantities as their abUity would justify. Some packed on horses as high as fifty bushels ; some even exceeded that amount ; but all were cheerful in contributing, as they were able ; for they were much attached to thefr pastor, and were unwilUng to have him leave. Wheat was thus transported on horses from a distance of twenty-five or thfrty miles. After a while the word came that the fiour was ready for market ; but, as before remarked, there was no place in all the upper country where it could be sold. If sold at aU, it must be conveyed in a boat to New Orleans, down the current of rivers whose banks were untenanted, except by the savage and the wild beasts. Another meeting was caUed. A Unk in the chain of Providence had been reached which they could not pass ; and hence it was again necessary tp 146 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. enter into consultation, and seek the Divine aid After earnest prayer the question, startling to all present, was asked: Who 'will run a boat to New Orleans ? The undertaking at that time was perilous in the extreme. Months must pass before the ad venturer could hope to return, even though his journey should prove a fortunate one. A fearful hazard was to be run in passing through the wilder ness on the retm-n trip. Sad and melancholy tales had been told of the treacherous Indians and the Spanish robber. More than one boat's crew had gone on that journey to retum no more. WeU might it have been considered a question of momentous importance ; and well must he count the cost who would undertake to answer it, and brave the dangers of that journey. All were silent; no one volunteered to go. The young shrunk back, and the stout-hearted middle- aged themselves quailed. A crisis of greater moment had come than any through which they had passed ; and they were obliged to fall back on Providence, and were shut up to the faith. Some one of that con gregation must embark in the enterprise ; but still no one moved or spoke a word. It seemed that the plan must fail, the preacher lose his home, and the people thefr pastor. At length the stillness was broken. An aged man, one of the elders of the Church, wrinkled and white ¦with hoary hairs, and bending beneath the weight of three-score years and four. THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 147 advanced in front of the pulpit, and turning round to the wondering audience, he said, " Here am I ; send me." The movement produced an indescribable thrill in all hearts. Pastor and people wept like children, as they beheld their venerated elder thus, as it were, offer up himself as a sacrifice for the cause of religion. We witnessed a scene something similar to this many years ago, at a conference held in Spring field. One of the most sublimely eloquent ser mons to which we ever listened was preached by Bascom, the pioneer orator of the West, on the subject of missions. The presiding bishop, at its close, asked for volunteers for the then distant wilds of Missouri and Texas. The conference was composed of many stalwart young men, most of whom, had been subjected to the toils and hardships of frontier life. But no one responded to the call. The bishop (the venerable Soule) said he had noth ing to offer but hard service and poor fare in this world, though he would guarantee to the faithful eternal life in heaven. None rose or indicated any desire to brave the dangers of the Missouri or Texian wilds. It seemed as though the spirit of Wesley had forsaken or had net taken possession of his sons in the Gospel. At length there rose from near the altar an aged man. He tottered up the steps, and presenting himself to the bishop, said, 148 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. " I 'wUl go." He had passed his three-score years and ten ; had been a pioneer preacher in the ynl- dei-ness of Kentucky, and had opened the first acade my of learning in the great valley. It was the venerable Finley, the father of the "old chief," who instantly foUowed him, and offered himself in his place. The spell of fear and danger was broken, and a number of young, devoted spirits met the bishop's call. The bones of some of those young preachers lie bleaching on the plains of Texas and Missouri ; but thefr ranks have been fiUed, and the Gospel is now proclaimed aU over the West and South. But to retum to our narrative. The congregation gathered aroimd the elder, and to questions about his resolution to undertake the enterprise, he repUed that he would brave all danger, and even death itself, rather than his children should lose their beloved heavenly guide. Two young men were induced to accompany him as assistants in managing the boat. After the craft which had been construct ed for the purpose was loaded, and everything got in readiness for departure, the people were all assem bled at the Church, whence, after meeting, they start ed down to the river to bid the old man fareweU. A parting hymn was sung upon the beach, foUowed by a most fervent prayer, invoking the protection and blessmg of Heaven' upon tiie voyager. After it THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 149 was ended, the venerable man ascended the deck, and seizing the oar, said, "Farewell, brethren! Untie the cable, and let us see what the Lord will do for us." The cable was untied, and the boat swung round into the current, and glided softly and smooth ly away. More than nine months passed away since the adventurous boat cleared the landing, and started out on her distant voyage. No tidings came back to the settlements of its fate or fortune. Many and ardent were the prayers offered up for the devoted elder. At the retum of every Sabbath many an anxious eye tumed to the vacant seat, and as the pastor invited the congregation to unite 'with him in prayer for the absent ones, every heart responded, and every head was bowed in solemn suppUcation for his protection and safe retum. It could not be that an enterprise thus undertaken for the Lord, and baptized in prayer, could fail. Surely, He . who "holds the hearts of men in his hands, and turns them as the rivers of the south are turned," wiU watch over his servant, and bring him back in safety to the loved ones left behind. Those prayers were not in vain. On a beautiful Sabbath moming, when aU nature smiled beneath its repose, parents and children were seen coming from their cabin homes to' the house of God. There stands the maii of God, in simple garb, 150 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. within the sacred desk. He has offered prayer — a short invocation; and now he reads the hymn: ''Come, sound his praise abroad, And hymns of glory sing ; Jehovah is the sov'reign Lord, The universal King.'' Then followed a prayer, full of thanksgiving and praise. The pastor's heart was touched with unusual emotion; and well it might be, for there sat before him, on the rude bench so long vacant, his beloved elder. After the services were completed, the con gregation was invited to meet on a certain day, early in the week, to hear the report of the venerable man. All gathered around him, to welcome him home and receive his blessing. Old and young rejoiced to be hold once more the light of his smile. The other congregation was also informed, by the pastor, of his safe return, and requested to meet at the time ap pointed. The day at length arrived; and at the hour all were convened in the church. , After prayer and thanksgiving, the old man rose and related his story. He remarked that the Lord had granted him a peace ful and prosperous voyage, and that he had sold all the flour at twenty-seven dollars per barrel. He then took up a leathern bag, and, untying it, poured out its contents upon the communion table. None there THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 151 had ever seen so large a pile of gold before. Truly the Lord had favored the mission; for, after paying for the pastor's farm, and a year's salary in advance, together with a good sum to the young men, there was a large surplus to be divided among those w^ho had furnished the flour. More than half a century has passed away since pastor and elder were called to their reward in the upper and better sanctuary. Side by side thefr ashes rest in the old church-yard, to wait the resurrection of the just. But we must now resume our sketch of the young itinerant. He had finished his year of service, and had gone to conference. Here he met the pioneer bishop, Asbury; and also the pioneer preachers, M'Henry, HiU, Ward, and others. The preachers in those times could only see each other once a year, and when they met to recount their toils and triumphs, they had a joyous time. The ministers of the West are now so numerous that they often get in the way of each other. But it was not so then ; hundreds of miles of wilderness stretched between their fields of labor; and if the circuits did, in their vast sweep, happen, to touch each other, they, were generally at points remote from preaching places, so that they would not be Ukely to meet each other. The labors of the conference being ended, his assigned field of labor for the coming year was in Kentucky; and he, ¦with the bishop and several preachers, started 162 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. on their journey through the wilderness. Before proceeding far, however, others were joined to the expedition, and the number amounted to sixteen. They had one hundred and fifty miles to travel, without a cabin or settlement on the route, and they were to traverse a region then known as the "dark and bloody ground," in consequence of the savage barbarities which had been perpetrated. Of course, it would not do to go unarmed; and hence all were supplied with weapons of defense, except the bishop. Having crossed the Cumberland range, they were now in the very bosom of the ¦wUderness. Though the good bishop would not carry arms, he was, never theless, not indifi'erent to the importance of adopting modes of defense from the attacks of the savages. At his suggestion the following was selected, viz.: when they stopped at night, a rope was to be ex tended round the entire camp, a short distance from the ground, except a smaU passage, which should be left open for a retreat should the Indians come upon them. They pursued their journey undisturbed until one afternoon, just as the sun was sinking behind the western hills. They had entered a narrow, rocky glen, not far from the war-path of the northern Indians to the southern tribes. While in this glen a noise was heard, over the point of the hill which rose abruptly from the glen, resembUng the cry THB PIONEER PREACHERS. 153 of a child in great distress. They had been too long in the woods thus to be decoyed by the savages, who had adopted this mode from the fact that, but a short time before, they had attacked a company of movers, and kUled a number, and it was supposed that several children were lost in the woods. Instead of heeding the cries of these Indians, each traveler put whip and spm- to his horse, and, clearing the glen, reached Camp Creek, where they halted. It was now night, and horses as well as men were weary with fatigue, and needed rest. Not'withstanding, as they were not out of the reach of the savages, it was concluded to take the vote in regard to the propriety of camping for the night. All were in favor of proceeding on the journey, as the Indians were in too fearful prox imity, except one preacher, who said if they tiaveled any further it would kill his horse. At this the bishop, who had his fears somewhat aroused, said, " Kill man, kill horse first ;" and, putting spurs to his spirited animal, he led the van. It soon became so dark that they could not discover the narrow path. Two were appointed to go on foot in front, and thus pick out the path, while two others were left to proceed some distance behind as a kind of rear-guard, to keep a look-out for the enemy. At length the company reached Big Laurel Eiver. The night was far spent, but stiU tiiey 154 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. resolved to proceed, though the darkness was so great that each one had to dismount and lead his horse. Thus they continued on foot until daylight, when they entered a hazel thicket and fed thefr horses, and took some refreshment themselves. The guard behind, on coming up, reported that they were followed by the Indians until twelve o'clock, when they left the tiack. The itinerant career of our pioneer preacher was almost as full of perilous incidents as that of the pioneer hunter. On one occasion he raised a com pany of twelve, for the pui-pose of going from Kentucky beyond the Cumberland, again to pilot out the bishop to the seat of the conference. One day, as they were traveUng on thefr joumey, they came to a spot where, a few days ]|efore, four preachers, who had started to travel through the wilderness, had been surprised and murdered by the savages. They had been scalped, and their bodies presented a shocking appearance, from having been torn by the wild beasts. Being the commander of the party, the itinerant had not closed his eyes for two days and nights, and when they reached the Cumberland Eiver, and stopped to encamp for the night, he resolved to take some rest. After stationing his sentinels at their posts, he took his saddle blanket and spread it on the ground. Then taking his saddle and saddle-bags for a pillow, he laid himself THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 156 down to rest. In a few moments, "tfred nature's sweet restorer" lulled him into profound repose. He had not slept an hour when he was aroused by the cry of "The Indians are coming!" Some affirmed that they heard their dogs bark, and others that they heard them cutting cane for their horses. The preacher' rose and tried to allay their fears, but aU proved of no avail, as each one mounted his horse and was off. Finding himself left, he called in his sentinels, and they departed after the fugitives. The next night they continued to travel, untU the darkness became so great that they could not see an inch before them. Concluding to stop, the preacher ordered the company to separate right and left and dismount, each man holding his horse by the bridle, while they would lie down at their feet and sleep' until daybreak. The command was obeyed, and it was not long imtil the tired travelers were sound asleep. In the moming they resumed their joumey, and, crossing the mountains, were soon at their place of destination. When they retumed they were joined by a large party of emigrants, consisting of men, women, and children, to the number of one hundred and twenty. They were weU suppUed with horses to ride, besides a large number of pack-horses. It was what might be called a caravan of the Westem wilderness The preacher was unanimously chosen to the com- 10 166 PIONEERS OF THB WEST, mand. The caravan extended a mile in length. The commander, ¦with a well-skilled explorer, led the van, and a chosen number of those who had gone out with him brought up the rear. Separated as they were from each other by the narrow path, whicii obUged them to go in single file, they were Uable at any moment to be attacked, and would fall an easy prey to a party of Indians on foot -with their rifies; hence the utmost caution was necessary in proceeding. For two days and nights they tiaveled on without meeting ¦with any incident worthy of special notice. At length they reached the ford of the Cumberiand Eiver. The stream was much swoUen by recent rains, but, stiU, it was thought practica ble to undertake the crossing. Soon the whole com pany came up to the bank, and while theylwere crowded together the sharp crack of several rifles was heard on the opposite bank. The shots were from a party of Indians, but the distance was so far, fortunately, none took effect. The greatest conster nation prevailed. Many emigrant bands had been whoUy exterminated by the Indians, and there was not a child of any years among that number, who had not heard of the sad story of thefr fate. The women, affrighted, clung to their little ones, and begged to retum. But they had gone too far to retum, and would have to encounter as much dan ger, and perhaps more tiian if thev should proceed. THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 167 One day more would bring them to the settlements, where they would be safe ; and if they retumed, the Indians could rally their forces, and, pursuing, soon overtake them and . cut them off. The only chance ot deUverance was to go forward and press their way through the enemy. A crisis had come, and the pioneer preacher proved himself, as on former occasions, adequate to the trial. Eiding out from the company a short distance, with his rifle resting upon his arm, he said he was going to cross the river, and asked if there were any who would accompany him in the under taking. Out of the whole number, the, chosen eleven with whom he had crossed the mountains only acceded, and, following their leader, they plunged into the river. When they reached the opposite bank, expecting an immediate attack from the Indians, they instantly alighted from their horses, and each man took a tree to wait the onset. After remaining some time, and no Indians approach ing, they made search through the adjacent woods, but finding none, they retumed to the bank of the river. The preacher then beckoned to the company on the other shore to cross over. Finding they could cross in safeiy, and especially having so brave a guard, one after another they entered the river, and arrived safe on the other side. A thunder storm coming up toward the close of the aftemoon, 168 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. the company halted and prepared to encamp for tiie night; striking their tents and building their fires, they sought refreshment and rest. The itinerant posted his sentinels, but kept on his feet aU night, paissing round from post to post, and through the camp, to see that aU was right. The next day they arrived at the Crab Orchard, and having passed the dangers of the wilderness and reached the settle ments, the preacher left the company and started tc the seat of the conference. Here he met Poythress who presided in the place of the bishop, and Scott, a young preacher from the Baltimore Conference, who but a few months since died at his residence in Chillicothe. Froin this conference he started out to travel a new cfrcuit, bounded east by the frontier settlements, and west by the Kentucky Eiver. Thus, from year to year, he rlc»iyed appointments on the frontiers, extending his ranges wherever he could hear of a newly-erected cabin. The clothes which he had when he started from his home in the East, were worn into tatters, being no longer able to sustain a patch. The amount which he received for one year's labor was barely sufficient to enable him to purchase a waistcoat. StiU he had a mission to per form, and he kept on his way from year to year, from circuit to circuit, covering his tattered garb with a blanket, as a mantle, and enduring the hard service incident to a pioneer itinerant. At one time, in the THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 169 beginning of the present century, his field of labor included nearly the entire state of Ohio, besides por tions of Yirginia and Kentucky ; and the loved work in which he was employed engrossed his whole atten tion, until, through toil and exposure, he lost his voice, and was obliged to seek other employment to obtain a liveUhood. President Monroe, or Madison, we do not recollect which, gave him a commission as post master of Cincinnati, which office he held until the Tyler administration, when he was removed. But his work is done. The young and daring pioneer preacher, who traversed the wilderness, and crossed the mountains eleven times, on the errand of his Master, has passed away to the rest of the grave. He died a few months since in Cincinnati. William Burke will long be remamiljered in the West ; indeed, his whole life is so interwoven -with its history that he cannot be forgotten. About the same period a preacher by the name of Wilkinson was transferred from the Yirginia Confer ence to the Western Conference. He was young and eloquent, a son of thunder ; and many a stout he^rt at the c)&,mp-meetings, among the sturdy pioneer hunters and settlers, had been smitten by the power of his words. As a legate of heaven, " By him the violated la-w Spoke oat its thnnders." 160 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. And whether in the rude log-church, at the camp- meetings in the forest, or in the crowded city, the power of his eloquence was felt. Having attended conference in Tennessee, and received his appointment, he started, accompanied with others, to cross the wilderness for the destined field of his labors. They had not proceeded far on their journey before his horse became so lame that it was impossible for him to proceed. The company, unwiUing to wait, and not knowing how long it would take to restore his horse, proceeded on without him. After remaining some days, his horse had so far recovered as to enable him to proceed ; but he found himself in a dilemma almost as great as the one from which he had been extiicated. His horse-feed, of which he thought he had brought sufficient to last the joumey, and it, doubtless, would have proved ad equate but for the detention, was exhausted ; and in addition to this, his own provision spoiled, with the exception of a small piece of dried beef. At Bean's Station, on the frontier, he obtained a cup of milk and a piece of corn bread. The people there en deavored ta dissuade him from the undertaking, and earnestly advised him to wait until he could obtain company to travel with him. But he would Usten to no advice ; he had sent on his appointments in ad vance, and he was resolved, if it was possible, to reach them, that the people should not be disap- THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 161 pointed. The station was so scarce of provision that he could obtain no supply for himself; and aU he could get for his horse was some frost-bitten com. On, therefore, with his meager supply he journeyed. Between him and Crab Orchard, a distance of one hundred and thirty mUes, there was naught but a tenantless wilderness. Occasionally he would stop and let his horse graze upon the herbagCj while he would sparingly partake of his dried beef. At length the settlements were reached; but preacher and horse were so much exhausted that they scarcely had strength to eat. He, perhaps, would not" have suffered so much from want, if he had not met half way in the 'wilderness a starving soldier, returning home from Wayne's army, 'with whom he divided his last morsel. The pioneer soldier, as well as the pioneer preacher of those days, not only "smelt powder," but often were subjected to other trials, to which the epauletted, brass-buttoned soldier and white- cravated, black-vested preacher of the present day are stiangers. It was some time before the young itinerant re covered, and his horse, a noble animal, to which he was much attached; did not recover for six months. What added to the gloom of his weary and desolate journey, was the fact that he passed what was caUed the "Deserted Camp," where a company of 162 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. thirty-two white persons had been murdered and scalped by the Indians. Hard times with the preachei-s have not yet passed away from the West. There are yet frontier regions where the people are poor, and the Gospel must be preached to them. We have an interest ing incident connected ¦with the experience of an itinerant, which we -will give. We shaU, however, let him relate it in his o'wn simple, touching lan guage, premising that the reader imagine him at the seat of a conference in a Westem city, with his wife and children stopping at the house of a wealthy member of the Church : " Up to the close of conference, I have kept faithfully the forty doUars reserved for the purchase of a horse so soon as I should reach my new cir cuit. But over and above that I have not five dol lars, and my wife and children aU want new shoes, and my boots have given way at the side; they have been twice half-soled, and the uppers won't stand it any longer. My only coat is all thread bare, and white at the seams; that, however, is no matter; it ¦wUl look weU enough back in the woods, although it has rather a shabby appearance here among so many shining new black ones. But, besides the absolute want of shoes and boots, it will cost us all of thirty dollars to get to our new home. Where then, is the horse to come from? THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 163 Be stiU, desponding heart! The Lord will pro vide. You go forth in his cause, and he ¦will take care to supply the armor, if you wiU always keep it bright and whole! Yes, yes, weak, timid, trembUng soldier of the cross! the Captain of your salvation ¦will go before you, and lead you on to certain victory. Only be faithful : look not back for a moment, but press forward. "I have just had a talk with Brother T. He called in very kindly to give me all the advice, encouragement, and instruction that he could in regard to my new appointment; and also to furnish me with a Ust of the names of some of the promi nent brethren. There is no parsonage provided for „the preacher's family; nor do the people pay the rent for one. But a log cottage, he says, with a little patch of ground for a garden and pasturage, can be had for about twenty dollars a year. A cow wiU cost as much more. But where is the money to buy her to come from? Ah me! If I had just about as much as it costs three or four of the sisters here for ribbons and laces, how rich I should be! The elegant dinner-set, upon which our food is served here every day, the good sister told my wife cost eighty doUars. There was a plainer set for sixty; but the first set had a gold band, and she Uked it best, and gave twenty dollars more for tiie sake of the gold band. Now, just 164 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. the price of that gold band on the dinner-set would buy me a cow. Ah me ! These thoughts trouble me. But hush ! hush ! poor, doubting, murmuring heart ! Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his mom-servomt, nor his mcdd-seroamt, nor hAs ox, nor his ass, nor cmythvng that is thy neighbor's. If the good Master has prospered our brother and sister in their basket and store, I ought to be thankful to him on their account, that he has given them the good things of Ufe ¦with a Uberal hand. " I met old father H ^y this morning, with his cowhide shoes and leather strings, wool hat, coarse coat, and shirt^coUar unbound with a neck cloth. It is two years since last I saw him. We talked for half an hour about matters and things. He is no happier than when I last met him. Not so happy, I think. The luxurious Uving of our rich professors tioubles his soul. He has lifted his voice against it faithfully, and enforced his precepts of temperance and moderation by a rigid, self-denying example, but it is all of no avail. There is no diminu tion of the evil he complains of. His own perverse heart, too, causes him great affliction. The bitter things which he is daily compelled to write against himself, humble his soul to the dust. He finds, he says, every day, lower and lower depths of evil in his own heart, the discovery of which fills his soul with the deepest anguish. Dear, good old man! THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 165 His troubles and his trials here will, I trust, make him richer th&re. I cannot, however, coincide 'with him in all his positions. I cannot foUow him in all his examples. The bounties provided by nature, her delicious fruits, sweet flowers, honey from the rock, were not all made in vain, or only for those who look not for good things beyond this world. They are all for us, if in our power to obtain them ; and to me it seems a greater sin to put aside the blessings thus provided by our Father's hand, than to receive them, and use them with thank fulness. "But he is sincere, and fhe Lord looks at the neart. I wish more of us had a portion of his self- denying spirit. I am. sure I need some of it to en able me to bear up more patiently than I do. I do wish I could never feel troubled about anything ; that I could really say from the heart, 'Thy will, not mine, be done.' I often say as much with the lips ; but, alas ! it is, I fear, only from the teeth out ward. " I had -written thus far in my journal, when my ¦wife came in, and, holding a stout bundle in her hand, said, with a cheerful smile, ".'What do you think this contains, dear?' "'I don't know, I'm sure,' I said. '"What does it contain ?' " ' You shaU see,' was her reply, as she unroUed it. 166 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. "There were three pairs of shoes apiece for the children, and three pairs for wife, enough to last them all the next year. Then there were four frocks apiece for the Uttle ones, and four new gowns for wife, besides various other matters, such as muslin for underclothes, and nice warm Canton flannel, and stockings ! " ' Not all for us ?' I exclaimed, in astonishment, as Mary displayed these before my eyes. " ' Yes, all for us. May the Lord reward Sister A. for her goodness :' we cannot.' Tears of thank fulness were in her eyes. " ' Amen !' I responded, fervently. In the next moment my heart smote me for what I had thought and written about the gold bands on the dinner-set. Several times since I have tumed to the page of my journal where it lies recorded, and taken up my pen to erase it. But I have as often determined to let it remain. It presents a true history of my feeUngs, and I cannot blot it out. " After supper that evening, the last we were to spend in the kind family of Brother and Sister A., Brother A. began to ask about my new circmt, and how I expected to get along on it. I felt a little delicacy about replying to his questions, for I could not speak very encouragingly, and I never like to make a poor mouth. But he was in earnest, and cornered me so closely, that I had to teU aU the fruth THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 167 about the means the cfrcuit afforded, and my own poor condition. " ' And so you still have your " horse money" safe ?' he said, smiling, after he had got all out of me. " ' Yes, that still remains untouched. But a part will have to go for stage hire. That can't be helped. Though I doubt not something will turn up, and that I shall get a horse after I get there easily enough. Horses don't cost much in that section of the country ; and then, to add to what is left after pa,ying our fare, I hope to receive about ten doUars for the sale of some things at the old place, left in the care of a good brother. It will aU come right, I know, Brother A. It always has come right.' " ' No doubt,' he said. ' The Lord -will pro-nde.' " Brother A. seemed thoughtful after he had said this. After sitting for a Uttle while, he said, rising, " ' Come, Brother B.' " I followed him up stairs into his chamber. He closed the door, and then opened a large mahogany wardrobe, well stocked with clothes. " ' You and I are near about the same size,' he said, taking do^wn a black frock coat, that was very little worn. ' Try on this, and see ho'W near it will come to fitting you. I have not worn it for some months, and it is a pity to let the moths get into it. There!' he continued, as I drew on the coat. 168 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. ' it fits you just as well as if it had been made for you, and scarcely shows the wear it has had. Let me see,' he added, turning again to the wardrobe, ' what else we have here. Ah ! this is just the thing for you,' bringing out an overcoat, made of stout beaver cloth. 'You will want just such a thing as this next winter. It will keep you as warm as toast while riding among those snowy hills. I found it almost too heavy for me last ¦winter. But to ride in it will be the dandy.' " He did not stop here. Two pairs of good panta loons, as many vests, and a pair of exceUent boots, were added to these. I fried to thank him, but my voice was so husky that I could not articulate dis tinctly. The remembrance, too, of what I had thought and written down about the gold bands on the dinner-set, with other reflections not clothed in words, choked me. Nor did he stop yet. Next morning, as I shook hands with him, and bade him farewell, he left two pieces of gold in my hands, saying as he did so, with a smile, " ' Don't touch the " horse money," Brother B. A minister can't walk around his circuit.' " ExceUent man ! May the Lord reward him ! As for me, I feel humbled before my Master for my want of faith. So many, many times has he brought me safely out of the wilderness into a clear place, and yet I am im^wiUing to trust him." THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 169 The preachers of those days were not as fastidious as some we wot of at the present day. They were usually fearless and independent, and uttered the truth without regard to their audience. We recol lect distinctly a petition in th«ir prayers at that time that we rarely or never hear at the present day. It ran thus : " 0 Lord, deUver us from the fear of man which bringeth a snare, and grant that we may not shun to declare thy whole counsel to dying sinners, whether they wiU hear or forbear. May we preach without fear or favor, and attend thy word with the demonstration of the Spirit and power." As illustrative of this class of pioneer preachers, we will relate an incident that occm-red in the Southwest. A certain presiding elder, on his roimd, came to a town on one of the circuits where quar terly meeting was to be held, and, putting up his horse late on Saturday evening, waited for the Sabbath. The church, as is usual on such occa sions, was crowded in every part. The preacher in charge was a young man of not much experience, though devoted to his work, and striving hard to please the people in all things, so that he might win them to religion. Just as the elder, a flne, sturdy specimen of a backwoods, preacher, was announcing his text, he felt the tail of his coat sud denly jerked. Turning roimd in the midst of the 170 PIONEERS OF TffE WEST. sentence, the young preacher, with great frepida- tion, whispered^ " General Jackson is in the congre gation." The elder, feeling indignant at the inter ruption, which was noticed by all, raising his voice, 9tiU looking at the preacher, who had his head down, exclaimed, "Who is General Jackson? God Almighty will damn him, if he don't repent, as soon as he would an unconverted Guinea nigger." Then, turning, he resumed the reading of his text. The general, then President of the United States, on a visit to the West, was standing in the aisle, leaning against a post. He Ustened 'with great attention and interest to the sermon, sho'wing, as he did on all occasions, great respect for reUgior and the worship of God. The young preacher was so mortifled that he could not hold up his head during the meeting; and when it was over, he modestly hinted to the elder that his rough remark had i-uined everytiiing, and, as he was the innocent occasion of it, his ser vices would be of no further benefit in that place. The elder chid him for his pusillanimity, and told him to have more of the ffear of God than man be fore his eyes. Early next moming the young divine took the earliest opportunity to visit the general, having some acquaintance with him, for the purpose of making an apology. He had scarcely commenced, THE PIONEER PREACHERS. 171 when Old Hickory said, "Give yourself no uneasi ness, my young friend. I Uke that preacher's fear less, independent manner. He fears his Master more than man, and such a preacher I admire." As the elder was passing down street in the aftemoon, the general saw him from the opposite side, aud, crossing over, introduced himself. After some words of conversation, he remarked that the young preacher had been to see him, and related the conversation which passed between them. On taking the elder by the hand at leaving, he pre sented him with twenty-five dollars, saying, "This may help you in your work. Go on, and discharge it in the fear of God." It was this same old Eoman who, on hearing a complaint from one of his offlcers against a party of Methodist soldiers in his camp, who were holding prayer-meeting, said in reply, " God forbid that the voice of prayer in my camp should be disorderly. Go, sir, to your post." 11 172 PIONEERS OF THE WEST CHAPTEE "YE. PIONEER INSTITUTIONS AND PROFESSIONAL MEN. The first laws were made to suit the exigences of the times, and were adapted to the condition and cfrcum- stances of those who were to be governed by them. Hence, the laws made by the general government for the Western territories, though in accordance with the Constitution of the United States, and in aU general features resembUng those of the states, were, never theless, accommodated in some particulars to the condition of the people. Under these laws the terri torial govemments were organized, and the judiciary constituted. We have already aUuded to the first permanent settlement of the Northwestern Territory by the Ohio Company. In the Campus Martins, on the first day of September, 1788, the first court under the forms of civil jurisprudence was opened. The deci sions at the councU fires of the Indian, or at the camp of the pioneer, constituted, until this time, the only " rule of action for the savage and the civilized. At the time of which we are writing. General Harmar PIONEER INSTITUTIONS. 173 with his regulars, occupied Fort Harmar. Governor St. Clafr, and Judges S. H. Parsons and J. M. Yar num, of the Supreme Court, having arrived and made arrangements for the adoption of such laws as were adapted to the new colony, the govemor appointed such civil offlcers as were nece'ssary for carrying into effect said laws. The period for the opening of the Temple of Justice in the West had come. It was an important era, and destined to mark -with its influence aU subsequent time. Great importance was accordingly attached to the event by the pioneers. All things being in readi ness, a procession was formed at the point on the banks of the Ohio where most of the settlers resided; and the high sheriff, with his dra'wn sword, stepping in front, was foUowed by the citizens, then by the offlcers of the gan-ison. After these came the members of the bar, then the Supreme judges, foUowed by the governor and clergyman; and, flnally, the newly-ap pointed judges of the Court of Common Pleas, Gen erals Putnam and Tupper. The procession marched along a path that had been cut and cleared through the forest for that purpose, up to Campus Martins, or "the stockade," as it was called. On arriving at the place, the procession countermarched, and Putnam and Tupper advanced to the haU in the northwest block-house, where they took their seats : the first judges enthroned upon a 174 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. bench in the Western wilderness, to dispense equal and exact justice to aU. When aU was stiU, the Eev. Dr. Cutler addressed the throne of grace, invoking most fervently the blessings of heaven upon the court and its offlcers. The sheriff was then directed to caU the court, which he did by the following outcry: "O yes, 0 yes! The Court is opened for the administiation of even- handed justice to the poor and the rich, to the guUty and innocent, without respect of persons ; none to be punished -without a frial by their peers, and then in pursuance of the laws and evidence in the case."^ It was an interesting, if not a subUme spectacle, to -witness the solemn and imposing ceremonies con nected -with the opening of this, the first court north west of the Ohio. The scene was rendered still more interesting by the presence of a large body of Indians, who had been collected together from the most pow erful tiibes occupying the entfre West. They were assembled at Marietta for the purpose of making a treaty; and as the dark chiefs looked upon the council of the pale face, who, in the name of the Great Spirit, had taken possession of the land, thefr minds must have been excited -with pecuUar emotions. The haU of the block-house was occupied as a court room for ten years, when, under the superintendence of Dudley Woodbridge and Griffin Green, Esqs., a building was erected for that purpose. This court- PIONEER INSTITUTIONS. 175 house inclosed the prison also, which was built of such hea-vy material, and so securely barred, that whoever crossed its threshold shut out all hope, until the law was satisfied with the penalty it infiicted. No prisoner was ever knovm tp escape from its walls; and to this day it is one of the stiongest prisons in the state. In the then spacious court-room, many of the pioneer lawyers displayed their legal abilities, and uttered their forensic eloquence, in the presence of the numerous settlers who, on court days, would come from all parts of the West, some out of curiosity, and others as principals or witnesses in suits. In this room, now deserted, having in process of time been superseded by one larger and more elegant in the new brick court-house, on the opposite side of the stieet, Meigs, and Fearing, and Burnet, and Ham mond, and Beecher, and Ewing, with many others, commenced, as lawyers, their brilUant career. The pioneer lawyer, like the pioneer explorer, and settler, and preacher, had to undergo like toils and hardships. They had to travel hundreds of miles, and pack their provisions on horses, often encountering Indians on their blazed path through the desert, swim ming rivers and camping out in the woods. They could not then sit in their offices, and, by whispering a few words to their clients, turn round on their cush ioned chairs and charge a hundred dollars for their legal advice. No immense estates were then involved 176 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. in the tangled meshes of Utigation, nor were any left to be settled by the demise of their o^wners. The most that the settler had was a cabin and a patch, and if he should unfortunately get into Utigation about a land boundary, or a stiay sheep or hog, or a con tiact, the most that the lawyer could hope for was a limited fee, and often that had to be paid in country produce, such as ginseng, beeswax, and taUow, or coon skins. Heavy suits and fat fees were reserved for other times, such as it is our privilege or misfortune to have fallen upon. The la-wyers of those days, like the preachers and the doctors, were not only of that nerve and daring of which the pioneers of aU new coimtries are com posed, but they were men of thought and study, of dUigence and enterprise, and they contributed much toward laying the foundations of the mighty empire of the West. They were not, generaUy speaking, so ¦wrapped up in selfishness that they could only look after their o^wn interests, but they were aUve to what ever had a tendency to develop the resources of the West, educationally, reUgiously, and poUticaUy. Though many of the Western lawyers were, like the members of the other professions, poor, and Uved in their cabins and raised their com, they were benevo lent, and always ready to lend a helping hand at a raising or a log-rolling. This remark wiU apply par ticularly to the early physicians, whose long rides, by PIONEER INSTITUTIONS. 177 day and night, to -visit the sick in distant settlements, often -without the hope of fee or reward, gave evidence of the generousness of their nature. They deserved a competency, but many of them Uved and died poor. Nor were the pioneers in the leamed professions a whit behind, in attainments, their more favored brethren of the present day. If they had fewer books, they were the more thoroughly studied. Their minds were not diverted every week by a fresh importation of law, medicine, and theology, from England, Ger many, or France, or from the thousands of presses of our own country. The lawyer was shut up to Black stone, the physician to Cullen, and the divine to his Bible ; and the result was, that they were alike thor oughly grounded in the principles of their profes sions. Nor did they tum aside from their avocations to dabble in other matters foreign to their several pur suits. The lawyer then had neither time nor incUna- tion to leave his offlce, briefs, and cUents, and stump it around the country for himself or some other candi date for poUtical distinction. Nor could the physician forsake his patients for any enterprise that might pre sent itself. He felt his responsibiUty press upon him too hea-vily for that. The preacher had no disposi tion, and dare not encourage it if he had, either to connect some other profession -with his, and become a 178 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. preaching doctor or a praying lawyer, or much less to engage in stock-jobbing and land speculations. Every man stood to his post, and nobly battled ¦with the difficulties -with which he was surroxmded. These men Uved and toiled nobly in laying the foundations of the ci-vil, Uterary, and reUgious insti tutions of the West ; and we have entered into their labors and received the rich inheritance purchased by thefr toUs. FoUowing the log-church and court-house came the school-house. At a very early day, how ever, before a govemment was organized, the Mora vian missionaries had opened schools among the Indians at Bethlehem, Shonbrun, and Gnadenhut ten. The Eev. D. Story, who had been sent out to Marietta, came as a minister and a teacher, and was, doubtless, the pioneer professional teacher of the West. About this time, however, a lady, by the name of Eouse, taught a school of boys and girls at Belpr6, and it is thought by some that this was the first school opened in the West. From this place she went several successive summers and taught school within the waUs of Farmer's Castle, the name of a stiong garrison built on the Ohio, about sixteen miles below Marietta. The probabiUty is that the first Simday school in America was commenced in Campus Martins, by a lady named Mrs. Andrew Lake. Seeing the children at the fort spending their Sabbaths in frivolous amuse- PIONEER INSTITUTIONS. 179 ments, she thought she would contrive to get them together, and impart instruction to them. Accord ingly, one Sabbath, after the Eev. Mr. Story had concluded his religious exercises, she proposed to as many children as would come together, that she should devote her time to their instiuction. The result was, that she obtained about twenty; and every Sabbath she would meet them, and teach them the questions and answers of the Westminster Catechism, and lessons from the Bible. We have a vivid recollection of these pioneer schools, both of those taught on the Sabbath and week days. The old log school-houses in which we received the first Uterary Ught from Dilworth's Spelling-book, are fresh in our recoUection. Like other log-houses, the chimney, or fire-place, extended nearly across one entire end of the building ; and in the winter season, the time when these schools were most patronized, a huge log-fire was built, which sent out its genial heat, and often its annoying smoke. It was supplied with more -windows than cabins for dweUings usually had, to allow greater light to schol ars as well as to master. We imagine that we can see Master Black, or Spry, or Pherson, now standing beside one of those windows, the panes of which were of paper, and made transparent by oiling or gi-easing them, making a pen, with a scholar standing beside, casting furtive glances around. The former of these 180 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. teachers was a thorough believer in the Proverbs of Solomon, "The rod and reproof give -wisdom;" "A rod for the fool's back ;" " He that spareth the rod is not -wise," &c. At least, such was our opinion ; for he was never seen in the school-room -without having a stout hickory in his hand or under his arm ; and oft en have we felt its power to stir the sluggish thought, and make "the young idea shoot." Sometimes, when he was not in a particularly good humor, he would, at finding a sUght disturbance on one of the seats, apply his rod to the backs of all who happened to be sitting upon it ; calculating that if any of them were not then deserving punishment, it would not be long before they would merit aU they got. There was one scholar in the school for whom the master had a particular disUke, from some cause or other. He did not seem to make very rapid advance ment in his studies ; whether he lacked the capacity or not we are not able to tell, as we always had enough to do to work out our own sums. " Jef," for that was the name by which he was kno-wn, had a wonderful proclivity to go fishing, or swimming, or apple-stealing, which latter could easily be done by swimming the river and entering the orchard, which stood on its banks. He was a stout, burly fellow, and did not seem much to mind a whaUng or Uck- ing, and would coolly make his calculations accord ingly. PIONEER INSTITUTIONS. 181 One afternoon, just after the boys had been called in from play, Jef was seen turning the corner of a fence, which inclosed an open lot in the town. The master spied him, and, spitting on both his hands, he grasped tightly his hickory, and sallied forth to meet him. Jef saw him coming, and took to his heels. This, of course, brought out aU the scholars to see the sport. It would not do to run into the thickly-settled parts of the to-wn; Jef was too old, and had too much pride for that ; so, taking a cfrcuit, he broke for the meadow, in the corner of which the school-house stood. The master was evidently gain ing upon him every jump; but Jef cleared the stake and ridered fence, and gained the other side ere he felt the rod. Now, our pedagogue was a resolute man, and he was not to be out-done or out-run by such a, lubber; and as he saw that the whole school was witnessing the race Olympic, he bounded over the fence after him -with renewed vigor, determined to capture the fugitive, paying him weU, not only for playing truant, but for running away from him. Hotly pursued, Jef tumed his head round, to see how near his foe was upon him, when he stumbled and feU, and the master, close behind, being unable to stop, tumbled over him. Jef gathered up and took the back track; for the mas ter, like the good wolf-dog the fellow bragged about, "was a leetle ahead." About half way between the 182 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. place of his faU and the school-house, he was over taken, and at every jump Jef caught the hickory, receiving the last as he tumbled over the fence and crawled into the school-house. We looked for a general overhauUng when the old fellow came in, for our disorder; but he had exhausted his wrath on poor Jef 's back, and the remainder of the day was spent in quietness. It did seem that he took particular pleasure in beating poor Jef, who bore it like an ox, and grew fat upon it. There was in the school another scholar, whom we will caU Jim, who was also rather stupid, or indis posed to leam. He Usped very much. He could read tolerably well, and write; but how to cipher was the mischief For many a day he had been toiling to get the multiplication table; but he invari ably stalled when he got as far as three times seven. The master thought, one day, that he was so much confused by the noise in the school, that perhaps, if he would let him go out and sit in the shade, in the rear of the school-house, his mind would become clear, and he could penetrate the mystery. Ac cordingly, he sent him out, -telUng him when he had mastered the difflculty to retum. After remaining out about an hour, he sent one of the scholars to call him in. The one he sent — a bright-eyed boy, long since passed away — crept softly round the house to Usten to. Jim's arithmetical exercises. There he sat, PIONEER INSTITUTIONS. 183 with his slate on his lap and his head resting upon one of his hands, repeating, "Theven and theven are fowerteen ; but thee time theven the devil couldn't yeckon -without figying, and figying, and figying." He was aroused from his profound mental abstrac tion, and called in. Whether he ever leamed how much three times seven are, we have never ascer tained. He is now a merchant, and can speak for himself. Poor Jef, we wot not what became of him. The other teachers were of a different cast; and though they sometimes infiicted punishment, it was in a different way. They were quaUfied for their business; and did not, as many young men of the present day, teach a quarter to make a raise simply, but they made it a profession. Provision was made at an early day for the ed ucation of the youth of the West. One of the ar rangements of the Ohio Company provided for the endowment of a Northwestern University, by set ting apart two townships of land; and the Ohio University, or Athens College, is the result of that endo-wment.- A similar appropriation was made in the Symmes purchase, and the Miami University was endowed. Both of these are fiourishing institutions, and many of the first minds of the West have been educated within their walls. The present system of common school education adopted by most of the Westem states,, providing 184 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. as it does for graded schools, is one of the most admfrable in the world; and its pecuUar advantage is, that aU children are thus provided with the facilities for obtaining a thorough education. Indeed, the system is in advance of our present race of educators, the most of whom are verdant young men and women from the East, educated, vigorous Westem minds seeking otiier and more profitable employment. PIONEER BOATMEN. 185 CHAPTEE YH. PIONEER BOATMEN. The broad and beautiful rivers of the West were first na-vigated by the Ught bark canoe of the In dian, which sped over their surface, scarcely creat ing a ripple. Softly and s-wiftly they glided up and do-wn the streams, and along the shores. "Where nothing broke the solitude but the dip of the paddle or the crack of the rifie, they might have been found tied, and almost concealed from sight among the willows and shrubs which lined the banks. The paddles were never left in the canoe, but were always taken into the forest and hid in a brush heap, or a hoUow log, that the temptation to steal might be lessened by the im possibility of using the canoe -without the necessary propellers. Next, in the history of na'vigation, came the fiat bottoms, or broad horns, as they were called, constructed on a large sca\e, and of burden suffl cient to caiTy a large freight, besides capacity for sto'wing away numerous families. They were, how- 186 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. ever, so unmanageable as to be of but little ser vice, except when the rivers were at high flood; for if they should fail to strike the channel, they would, in consequence of the amount of water which they drew, in boatmen's parlance, or the depth they sunk, be Uable to be staved by the rocks and snags in the bed of the sfream. Many are the wrecks which have been stiewed along the Western rivers, occasioned by attempting to pass down them in a low stage of water. One of this description comes painfully to the remembrance of the writer. In the summer of 1815, the father of the writer, with his family, consisting of five children, in company with several other families, left Pittsburgh in one of these crafts, for the mouth of the Muskingum, the destination being ZanesvUle. Without meeting with any accident, save that the writer feU overboard and was near being drowned, they -arrived safe at WheeUng. After remaining there a short time, the cable was untied, and the broad horn, sweeping around in a graceful curve, took the current and floated on her joumey. A huge oar was attached to each side of the boat on the deck, near the center, and a steering oar about twenty-five feet long, extended from the stem. Having approached a ripple, or falls, in the Ohio, every one was summoned to the oars to keep the boat in the channel. But, -with aU their exertions, PIONEER BOATMEN. 187 this could not be effected, and our ill-fated bark ran upon a large, smooth, round rock, and stove in the bottom. She soon swung round, and the water came rushing through the chasm. Women and children were quickly hoisted on deck, and every thing that could be raised was placed there to pro tect it from the water. The boat having sunk all it could, settled do'wn in the sand. With the skiff the passengers were by successive loads taken ashore, where tents were constructed on the beach of the sheets sewed together, and stretched on poles cut from the adjoining forest. There we remained until the boat was unloaded, hauled out of the water, brought on shore, turned over on its side, and repafred, which took many days. At length the time for a launch came, and the boat was again on the waters. Having passed the danger ous ripples and chutes, the voyagers met with no ob- sfruction until they arrived safe at their destination, where, procuring wagons, the famiUes were trans ported across the countiy to Zanesville. At this place we have often seen feats performed in boating by the Muskingum river-men that were truly astonishing. During the spring and fall freshets boats- would be built at Zanesville and Putnam of the same kind we have been describing, only bearing the name of " Orleans boats," from the fact that they were usu ally loaded with flour and produce of various kinds 12 188 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. for the lower trade, but principally New-Orleans. A trip to New-Orleans in those days was considered a tremendous joumey, equal to, if not greater than, one across the plains to California now. Many young men of our acquaintance considered it the sum of romance to take a trip to New-Orleans. The voyage down, beset as it was 'with aU the dangers of the river and the disease of a Southern climate, exposed upon the turbid Mississippi, with a broiUng sun pouring down its rays, living upon "Brock's" water-crackers, and " Taylor's " bacon, with an occasional draught of " Buckingham's store coffee," without milk, was, nevertheless, not as tedious and perilous as the retum trips through the wilderness. There were then no steamers to breast the tide, and, on horseback or, as was more frequently the case, on foot, the boatmen had to push their way, 'with their hard earnings, through the swamps and forests, exposed to the sav ages, and liable, as the Irishman said, to be "kUt, murthered, and drownded." Often have we sat, on a moonlight night, in the offlce of the adventurous and noble-hearted Thompson, in company with the hunters and boatmen. Scales and Boyd, and the fearless Hahn, (whom we afterward, -with others, assisted in carrying to his grave in the mountain cemetery which overlooks the town, whose sacred dust incloses the adventurous pioneer Zane and others, with hosts of loved ones sleeping there,* PIONEER BOATMEN. 189 and listened with deUght to the adventures and hair-breadth escapes, as narrated by these pioneer boatmen. Scales and the Boyds — ^Hercules and Absalom — were um-ivaled hunters and marksmen, and such was their reputation that none would enter the lists at a shooting match where they had a chance. "Who that recollects these men cannot caU to remembrance the loads of venison and turkeys with which they supplied the Zanesville market for years? They were all river men, and, though they had families, they would be gone from them on their hunts or Orleans trips for months. Scales has taken many a boat to the far South for the merchants of Zanes-dlle. As a steersman, he could strike a chanhel with as much precision as he could drive a center with a ball from his long rifle. We have often seen him shoot a squirrel at the distance of a hundred yards. "Boys," said he to a party of us one day, as we were return ing home from a visit to his cabin on the Muskingum, " do you see that black squirrel yonder, on the side of that oak?" We looked in the direction. It was far on the other side of the fence, so far that it was difficult to distinguish it. " I wiU shoot that squirrel for you, as it is right in your path home." We laughed at the idea ; but he drew up his rifle and flred, and down came the squfrrel, to the astonish ment of all. We hear a great deal about Sharp's 190 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. rifles, of their ability to carry a ball nearly a mUe, but we doubt if they wiU ever be of much service unless they can be placed in the hands of such marks men as roamed the Westem forests when " we were but a boy." But we have wandered. We intended to describe more particularly the pioneer boatmen of the West. They cannot, however, be dissociated from the hunt ers, for a river man in those days was a hunter. At Zanesville there is quite a faU in the river, oi rather a succession of them, and, until the upper and lower dams were built, the one just above the uppei bridge, connecting the to-wn with West ZanesviUe, and the other just above the lower bridge, connecting it with Putnam, these Falls were quite formidable in their appearance; and when Zane made his trace from Fort Henry westward to Maysville, the FaUs in the river and the romantic scenery, with the rocky and precipitous cUffs on the southem shore, presented quite an atfraction to the Delawares, Wyandots, and Shawnees, who wandered along the banks of the " Elks-eye," as the name Muskingum in Indian signi fies. Many an Indian canoe has been wrecked as it essayed to pass over these rapids. Before the flat boats were built, the exceeding favorableness of the site for mill-seats excited the enterprise of the citi zens, and, a company being formed, a dam was con structed and a canal cut through the rocks near the PIONEER BOATMEN. 191 shore, connecting -with a wing to the main abutment. "What fishing and skating memories come clustering around us while we write of these localities; and with what vividness do we recoUect, that when a boy, and unable to swim, we were standing about ten feet from the abutment, the water pouring over, and how we slipped and feU into the raging pool below. The fall was six or seven feet at that stage of the water, and we were forced by the descending column under the surface; and, on rising, the suc tion created by the faUing water would bring us back, until, being again struck, we would be again submerged. Well do we recollect the thoughts that came rushing upon the mind of home and friends, of being grappled for in the " deep hole," and carried on the little black bier of undertaker Sheward or Cassaday, after the funeral sermon of the ever-revered and lamented " parson," (Zanesville has never had but one, unless we think of the name given in jest to Parson Jones,) to the rural cemetery on the hill. Strange as it may appear to the reader, and stranger still as it is to ourself, we could breathe under that white foam, and were as unharmed as though lying among the fiowers in " Old Jeffery's " meadow on the aftemoon of a quiet summer's Sab bath. After being forced under the dam six times, and with such violence that my shoes were -wrenched from my feet, I found myself standing on the rocks, 192 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. up to my knees in water, about ten feet from the dam and near the edge of the " deep hole," without any effort on my part, so far, at least, as my consciousness extends. Howland, the fisherman, caught me at one time with his hook in my sleeve, but I broke his line. My old friend CargiU carried me to the shore. It was not the first time he had done me a kindness. But stay — pardon the egotism. Well, up the Muskingum and its tributaries the country had become somewhat thickly settled. Mills were erected, and flour and produce increased beyond all home demand. A market must be found for it, and where but to the lower country could it be sent? Accordingly, the inhabitants of the up country would build their boats, and float them down to Zanesville at high water, when there were but a few feet of fall on the dam. When they would arrive, however, none were daring enough to tempt the dangerous flood. The boat had to be un loaded, and the cargo carted round below the lower bridge. The boats usually, unless the river was very high, would break in two, or open the seams so widely, as to fill with water in going over, in consequence of their great length ; but they could soon be hauled out on the beach and repaired. But taking the plunge was not the worst. The ston? piers of the bridge, two of which stood near the PIONEER BOATMEN. 193 center of the river, must be avoided, and then a greater danger awaited the boat below. That navi gation might not be entfrely impeded, the lower dam was not constructed entirely across the river, but left an opening on the Zanes-ville side for the passage of boats. Here the fall was so great that the current was very rapid, and, besides, the chan nel being narrow, the water tumed by the dam rushed with violence against the ragged, rocky, hither shore. The pier of the lower bridge on the one hand, and the jagged rocks on the other, made a perfect Scylla and Charybdis, requiring all the 3kiU of the most experienced pilot to steer between them. Often have we stood among an excited multitude looking out from Granger's mill, at boats going over the dam, loaded with lumber ; and running to the lower bridge, have stood upon the rocks, and seen the fragments of the wreck, -with the hap less, inexperienced boatinen clinging to them as they passed down the roaring tide. But ZanesviUe had a boatman adequate to the task of piloting the up-river crafts over the danger ous passes. His name was Eoberts. He was also a pioneer tavern-keeper, and his sign, which bore a picture of Commodore Perry, (we knew it, as the man found out the picture of a certain animal by having the name painted in large letters at the 194 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. bottom,) is stiU painted on our memory. Eoberts had two boys, Nat and Charley, and they were chips of the old block. Captain Eoberts was invariably selected as the man. Whether othei-s were afraid to go, or the old gentleman did not wish to be troubled with too much company, we cannot say, but he only took with him his boys. They were stout young men, as were most of the young men of that day. When the up-river men would get their boat unloaded, they would send for Eoberts, and as he would be seen passing down Main-street with a red bandanna tied around his head, spitting upon his hands and rubbing them, crowds would foUow to the bank to -witness the scene. Arri-ving at the boat, they would untie the cable and jump on board, the old man taking the steering oar, and the boys the side sweeps. They would pull out far enough to escape the abutment of the wing-dam, and then, with bow directly down stream, would pull hard until 'within about fifty yards of the dam, when, letting the side oars swing roimd by the boat, they would stand and wait the plunge. The last time we saw them go over, there was about three feet fall in the water, perhaps more. When the boat got half-way over we saw her open at the sides. The shock threw Nat overboard, but Charley soon seized him, and dragged him out of the boiling flood. PIONEER BOATMEN. 195 No sooner did he reach the deck than, to the amuse ment of the hundreds on the banks, he turned three summersets in succession on the deck, and sprang to his oar. The boat was now nearly flUed with water, but they managed it, notwithstanding; and clearing the upper piers, they descended to the nar row, rapid channel, which they also passed amid the shouts of the admiring populace, who foUowed the course of the river to witness the out-come. Just below the bridge a boatman was stationed with a skiff and cordell, and, ro-wing out, it was made fast to the boat, and a multitude were always ready to puU the voyagers to the shore. These boats were the . immediate successors of the canoe, but they were only of service in descending the rivers. As yet no craft except the canoe, and that could not carry a very heavy burden, had been con structed with a view to ascend the streams. At length what were denominated keel-boats were con structed for this purpose. Much of the surplus pro ducts of the central and lower portion of the Ohio could not flnd sale in the South to advantage, and hence it was necessary to take it up stream to Pitts burgh. This rendered an ascending navigation neces sary ; and as " necessity is the mother of invention," as she is also of industry, the keel-boats were con structed to meet the emergency. These boats were long and narrow, being made sharp at the bow and 196 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. stem, and of as Ught draught as possible. On the sides were constructed running boards, on which were nailed cleats. These extended from bow to stern. The space between the running boards was inclosed with boards, making a cabin and a deck. They were constracted to carry from twenty to thfrty tons of freight, being weU protected from the weather by the cabin which we have described. It required from six to ten men, besides the captain, who was the steersman, to propel them up sfream. Each man was provided with a pole, ha'ving a hea-vy socket. The boatmen were divided equally on each side. Those at the bow would set their poles, and the rest behind foi lowing the example, they would place the end against their shoulders, and thro-wing the weight of their bodies upon |;hem, with their feet against the cleats, would push until the farthest from the bow would reach the stem, when aU would run back and reset their poles for another push. In ascending rap ids, it would not do for all to leave their poles unset at the same time. Generally, while half of them were stiU pushing, the remainder would run back and set their poles, and the others would follow. Should the keel swing in a rocky, rapid channel, there was great danger of being staved to pieces, and hence great care was necessary to prevent such a result; besides, it would be a lasting stigma to a boatman who should let his boat swing, or be backed in a PIONEER BOATMEN. 197 chute. It was the business of the men who had the head poles to prevent such a calamity, and it often required the greatest possible muscular exertion of every man to avoid it. Toilsome and severe as was the life of a boatman, it was very seldom that they exchanged their occu pation for another. To them it was fuU of romance ; and there was a charm on the river, amid the often wild but always exciting scenes of a boatman's Ufe, that had a power above all others. Often have the wild banks of the Westem rivers echoed with the '¦'¦head to,'^ '¦'¦set off" and "down on her," of the captain of a keel ; or the woods made to ring -with the merry shouts of the boatmen. Sometimes, when going along merrily, they would strike into a boat man's song, and the sweUing chorus would be borne for miles over the otherwise silent waters. At night, especiaUy when ascending, they would tie up ; and if they did not take a coon-hunt -with their dogs and guns, which they always had -with them, they would " trip the light fantastic toe " to the sound of the fiddle. Should they chance to stop near a settlement, they would go to some house, if the settler was the boatman's friend, and gather the girls of the neigh borhood, when they would, like the fashionables of upper-tendom at the present day, intrude upon the short hours. We recollect one of thefr songs ; it ran after this -wise : 198 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. "Dance, boatman, dance, Dance, dance a,waj ; Dance all night, till broad daylight, And go home -with the gals in the morning." In consequence of these midnight orgies, or revels, in which whisky in the tin cup, instead of wine in the goblet, fiowed freely, families of respectabihty would not settle immediately on the banks, but back from the river, out of the reach of the "rowdy set," as they were called in those days. As a "professional class" of men, they strove to maintain their dignity, and looked down with con tempt upon that inferior class denominated flat- boatmen and raftsmen. Against them they declared a perpetual war; and often the most^bloody battles were fought between the pugiUsts. They were gen erally, though there were honorable exceptions, a hard set; and many places at the end of their voyages have witnessed their outlawry. The Ohio could be ascended at all seasons, but many of its branches had to be navigated during the spring and fall freshets. 'When the rivers were too low for the boats to pass, the boatmen wotdd gather together at camp-meetings; and we have -witnessd several of them entirely broken up by their riotous proceedings. They would also attend general miUtia frainings, and often succeeded in vanquishing the sons of Mars. We believe that steam has done more in producing a moral revolution PIONEER BOATMEN. 199 in the West, than perhaps all the school-masters and most of the preachers combined; and what Fulton's steamboat has accomplished in breaking up the row dyism of the boatmen, we confidently expect will be accompUshed by Latta's steam flre-engine in breaking up the riots of flremen. But though these boatmen set the laws at deflance, they were nevertheless not -without law ; they had a law among themselves, and they were strictly honest. They would peril their lives to save the property of another. Money un counted was safe in their hands ; and they generally, if not invariably, assumed the cause of the weaker party — always, such was their respect for age, de fending an old man, whether right or -wrong. Such were their habits, that they were generaUy short lived; but their ranks would be fllled by young men ambitious of the calUng. Having said thus much of keel-boatmen, we must pass to consider another class of river men, called barge-men. Barges were consti-ucted somewhat after the manner of keel-boats, but they were much larger, being broader and longer. They were from seventy- flve to one hundred and twenty feet in length, with a breadth of beam of from flfteen to twenty feet, and from sixty to a hundred tons burden. ^ They were constructed with two cabins ; one to protect the cargo and shelter the boatmen, and the other in the stem, about eight feet long, for the captain and pilot. On 200 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. tiie roof of the latter, which sloped gradually toward the stem, the pilot was stationed to steer the barge. These barges usually carried two masts. The crew consisted of from thirty to as high as fifty men, vidth as many oars; and when under way, the craft looked more Uke a mammoth milleped walking on the surface of the water, than anything else by which it can be described. In a stiff current, where the beach was unobstructed by trees, the cordelle was resorted to, which, being fastened to the forward mast, would be carried along on the shoulders of the whole boat's crew, stationed at regular distances, who would pull the barge against the current. When obstructed by trees, the cordelle would be thrown into the yawl, and as it ascended, it would let off the rope from its coil, until its utmost length would be gained, when, making it fast to a tree, the men at the capstan would wind it up, and a fresh cordelle would be ready when the barge reached the fastening at the tree. This was called, by the boatmen, warping. We have since seen steamers warp themselves through the sand, in low stages of the Ohio, by sending an anchor ahead, with a cable, and attaching the other end to the shaft of the engine. The barges were not witiiout thefr setting poles, especially on the Ohio; though they were of no use on the Mississippi. The first race of boatmen, we have afready re marked, were hunters; they served also as spies PIONEER BOATMEN. 201 and scouts in the border wars, and thus may be classed -with the pioneer soldiers of the West, as well as the hunters. A milder, gentler race would not have been adapted to the wild, savage region through which they roamed ; but they have passed away. These men have fulfilled their mission in the settle ment of the West; and whether they belonged to a class represented by the savage and reckless Fink, or the wild, daring Girty, they were alike useful in their sphere in working out the destiny of the West. Next in order comes the steamer, whose breath of fire and muscle of iron soon caused the keels and barges to rot and molder on the shore. The first steamboat that ever navigated the Ohio and Mississippi was the " Orleans." She was built at Pittsburgh in 1812, carried three hundred tons, had a low pressure engine, and was owned by, and con stmcted for, Fulton and Livingston, of New-York. She started from Pittsburgh in December, 1812, and arrived at New Orleans the 24th of the same month, and plied regularly between New-Orleans and Natch ez until the 14th July, 1814, when, on her trip to the latter place, being opposite Baton Eouge, while lying by at night, and the river faUing at the time, she settled on a sharp stump and became wrecked. Her trips during that period averaged seventeen days. She was abandoned, and her engine, with a 202 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. new copper boUer, made in New-York, was put into a new boat in 1818, caUed the " New-Orleans," which only ran until the spring of 1819, when she also was sunk by a stump on the same side of the river, below Baton Eouge, but was raised by two schooners, brought to New-Orleans between them, and there totaUy lost near the Batture. The next, in order of time, was the " Comet," one hundred and forty-five tons, o-wned by Samuel Smith, also built at Pittsburgh, on French's stem wheel and vibrating cylinder patent, granted in 1809. The "Comet" made a trip to Louis-viUe in the summer of 1813, and reached New-Orleans in the spring of 1814; made two voyages to Natchez, and was then sold, and the engine put up in a cotton gin. Next came the " Yesu-vius," of three hundred and ninety tons, built at Pittsburgh, November, 1813, by E. Fulton, and o-wned by a company in New- York and New-Orleans. She started for New-Orleans in May, 1814, Frank Ogden being captain, and was the first boat that made any effort to reach the Falls, having left New-Orleans with a freight in the early part of July of the same year, but grounded on a sand bar about seven hundred miles up the Missis sippi, on the 14th of July, and lay there tiU the 3d of December, when a rise in the river fioated her off, and she retumed to New-Orleans, when she was put in requisition for military service by General Jack- PIONEER BOATMEN. 203 son; but, in starting up the river for wood, she grounded on the Batture, and became useless to the govemment. The succeeding year she pUed between New-Orleans and Natchez, under the command of Captain Clement, who was succeeded by Captain John De Hart. In 1816 she took fire near New- Orleans, and burned to the water's edge, ha-ving a valuable cargo on board. The fire communicated from th^ boilers, which in the first style of building were in the hold. The hull was afterward raised and built up at New-Odleans. After making several trips to Louisville, she was. broken up in 1820. The fourth steamboat was the "Enterprise," of one hundred tons, built at Brownsville, Pennsylvania, by Daniel French, on his "patent, and owned by a company at that place. She made two voyages to LouisviUe in the summer of 1814, under command of Captain J. Gregg. On the first of December, of the same year, she took in a cargo of ordnance stores at Pittsburgh, and started for New-Orleans, Henry M. Shreve commander. She made the voy age in fourteen days, being a quick trip, all circum stances considered ; and was then dispatched up the river to meet two keels which had been delayed on the passage, laden -with small arms. These she met twelve miles above Natchez, took their masters and the cargoes on board, and retumed to New-Orleans, having been six and a half days absent, in which ^ J3 204 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. time she ran six hmidred and twenty-four miles. She was then -for some time actively employed transport ing troops and supplies for the army, engaged under General Jackson in the defense of New-Orleans. She made one voyage to the Gulf of Mexico as a cartel, one to the rapids of Eed Eiver, with froops, and nine voyages to Natchez, Set out for Pitts burgh on the 6th of May, and arrived at Shipping- port on the 13th, being twenty-five days out? and pro ceeded thence to Pittsburgh, being the first steamboat that ever ascended the whole length of the Mississippi and Ohio Eivers. A public dinner was given at Louisville to Captain Shreve, for effecting a passage in that space of time, so wonderful and important was it considered. The- man who at that dinner would have predicted that there were those present who would Uve to see steamboats perform that trip in five days, twenty days less than Shreve's effort, would have been pronounced insane, or, at any rate, a mere visionary; yet less than a lapse of thirty years has served to accomplish it. She made one more trip down, her captain being D. Worley ; when she was lost in Eock Harbor, at Shippingport. The " Etna," of three hundred and sixty tons, was the next one built, owned by the same company as the " Yesuvius ;" length one hundred and fifty-three feet, breadth twenty-eight feet, and nine feet depth of hold. She left for New- Orleans under the command PIONEER BOATMEN. 205 of Captain A. Gale, and made trips successively to Natchez and Louisville. There being some want of confidence in steam power to ascend the Mississippi with a cargo above Natchez, she was employed, in the summer of 1815, to-wing ships from the mouths or passes of the Mississippi to New-Orleans, the barges then getting freight, in preference, at eight cents per pound, from New-Orleans to Louisville. In the fall of 1815,- the Mississippi being very low, th^ owners of the "Etna" made another attempt to ascend the river, and put in about two hundred tons, for which they charged four and a half cents per pound for heavy, and six cents for light goods. She had very few passengers above Natchez. The dependence was on drift-wood, and occasionally lying by two or three days, where settlements were made, waiting while wood was being cut and hauled, broke a 'wrought-iron water-wheel shaft near the mouth of the Ohio, and laid by at Henderson, Kentucky, fifteen days, trying to weld it, and had at last to end the passage with one wheel to Shippingport in sixty days. At Louis-viUe she had two shafts cast. Her jiext tiip down, with three hundred tons, at one cent per pound, and a few passengers, was made in seven days. The succeeding trip up, under many of the same difficulties, was made in thirty days, breaking the other -wrought-fron shaft, by driftwood, in ascend ing the Ohio. 206 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. The sixth, in order of time, was the " Dispatch," Captain J. Gregg, built at BrownsviUe, on French's patent, and owned by the same company with the " Enterprise." She made several voyages from Pitts burgh to Louisville, and back ; and one from the Falls to New-Orleans, and back to Shippingport, when she gave out, in 1818. The next were the " Buffalo," three hundred tons and "James Monroe," ninety tons, built at Pitts burgh by B. H. Latrobe, for a company at New York. He failed to finish them for want of funds. They were sold by the sheriff, and fell into the hands of Ithamar Whiting, who fumished them with engines. They were both duU saUers. The "Washington" was the ninth, and the first at WheeUng, Yirginia, where she was built under the superintendence of Captain H. M. Shreve, who was owner in part. The engines were made at Browns viUe. This was the first boat with boilers on deck. The "Washington" crossed the Falls in September, 1816, went to New-Orleans, and returning, wintered , at LouisviUe. In March, 1817, she left Shippingport for New-Orleans, and made her trip up and down in forty-five days, including detention at New-Orleans. This -was the trip which was considered to settle the practicabUity of steamboat navigation in the West. There are some incidents connected with steamboat navigation on the Western waters worthy of notice. PIONEER BOATMEN. 207 Captain Shreve, referred to already as the captain of the "Enterprise," believing the patent granted to Fulton and Livingston destructive to the interests of the West, and unconstitutional in its character, took early measures to test its validity. The " Enterprise " reached New-Orleans on the 14th of December, 1814 and was seized the next day for aUeged violation of that patent, and suit commenced against the owners of the New-York Company, in an inferior court, where a verdict was found for the defendants. Tlie case was then removed, by writ of error, to the Supreme Court of the United States. Before the question came up before this fribunal, Shreve returned to New-Orleans with the " Washing ton," which was also seized by the company, to whom she was abandoned without opposition by Captain Shreve, who was owner in part. On application, however, to the court, on behalf of the "Washington" and her owners, an order was obtained to hold the company to bail to answer the damages that might arise by the detention of the vessel. The agents of the company, in this stage of the business, fearing the downfaU of the mo nopoly which they sought to preserve, directly, and through the medium of their attorney, proposed to admit Shreve to an equal share with themselves in all the privileges of the patent right, provided he would BO arrange the business in court as to aUow a verdict 208 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. to be found against him. Had Shreve possessed less firmness or principle than belonged to him, he might have yielded to this tempting bait, and thrown back the steamboat operations in the West for ten years, before another individual of sufficient energy had ap peared to contest the patent. It is hardly necessary to add that the Supreme Court finaUy set the patent ¦-1 ^Hi, '¦¦«¦* Ir- w . -*- '-- - -aSSiAtj ¦ .. •< THE PROPHET FRANCIS. 211 CHAPTEE Ym. THE PROPHET FRANCIS. In the early part of the nineteenth century there lived in the South a chief who bore -tii^ name of Francis the Prophet, a title which had been bestowed upon him by his tribe on account of the superior wisdom and skiU which he manifested in aU those cases of emergency to which the Indians were sub jected in that eventful period of their history. He was a Seminole of proud and lofty bearing. Nature, amid whose wild and beautiful scenei-y,J|e was bom and reared, had given him a cast in fee *bf her most elegant molds. He was tall and • graceful, with round and beautiful features, resembling more a Cas- tilian or an ItaUan than an Indian. He had two daughters, young and beautiful as their sire,, one of whom in particular, the younger, was a model of womanly grace. Like her father, she was a child of nature, and her first lessons, in which she had the Great Spirit for a teacher, and the stars and fiowers, the latter of which are thickly stre-wn over hUl, and dale, and plain, in the sjmny South, seeming as the 212 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. alphabet of the angels to nature's children, were reeeived from these sources. Nor was this 'all the education she received. We are informed that she had made considerable proficiency in book leaming, and could speak the English language -with great fluency. Like her father, who was the pride of his nation, she was regarded as the fafrest and most ac complished of the fair among her sex. Her sister was also accomplished and handsome, but not to the same extent as the more favored one which we have been more particular in describing. Francis was a chief and a warrior. "When his war-cry was heard on the hills it roused every brave to action, and none were too faint-hearted to foUow their leader wherever fate or fortune might direct the way. He was a terror to all the hostile tribes, and whenever his band met them in mortal combat the issue never proved doubtful, though assailed by a superior force. He never had been taken captive. His manly, well-formed limbs never were bound in fetters. Like the wild eagle of the forest, sweeping the whole heavens in its flight, unfettered and free, so he roamed, lord of the forests and everglades in his native dominion. He had heard of the atiocities perpetrated by the white man who had entered his country, and set up his claims to the red man's hunting-ground, and he had himself been -witness to acts of baseness and bar- THE PROPHET FRANCIS. 213 barity that would have disgraced the most savage of his nation; and hence it is not to be wondered at that he yielded to the solicitations and promises of reward held out by British officers to unite with them in expelUng the colonists from the land. His name had become a terror to every American soldier's ears, and his skill and bravery were more to be dreaded than the combined force of many tribes. When he was gained over to the side of the British, an acqui sition was secured that inspired them with fresh hopes of redeeming, in part at least, what they had lost in the desperate struggles of the Eevolution. At the head of his nation, with which was con nected other tribes, and fragments of tribes, he went forth against the enemy, and in many a hard-fought battle bore away the pahn. Such bravery elicited the warmest encomiums from the British officers, who invited him to their tent, and made him party to all their councils of war. At the close of the war, so greatly were the officers and soldiers attached to the chief, that they invited him to accompany them on their retum to England, which offer, after making the necessary arrange ments for his family, he accepted. When the British forces arrived in London, the foUowing description of a miUtary pageant appeared in one of the papers of that city : "The double sound of a trumpet announced the 214 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. approach in the procession of the pati-iot chief Francis, who fought so gloriously in our cause in America. He was dressed in a uniform of red trim ming, decorated with gold. In his sash he wore a tomahawk with gold mountings." His princely bearing and accomplished manners attiacted the attention of aU, and thousands flocked to gaze upon one whose name and fame had pre ceded him across the waters. All seemed ready to do homage to this son of the forest for his daring and bravery in the British cause, while many were at tracted by his fine form and nobleness of person. Perhaps a better specimen of the Indian race has not been found. After remaining long enough to satisfy his own curiosity and that of the multitudes who everywhere crowded to look upon him, he retumed in a British vessel, loaded with presents, once more to his fatherland. As it might be expected that his identification with the English, and the kind treat ment he had received at their hands, would secure his friendship, so it was also probable that he would retain his hostiUty to the Americans, from whom he and his feUow red men had received repeated and irreparable injuries. He had taken the oath of the Indian of etei-nal hostility to the enemies of his race, and, as he asked no quarter, he determined to give none while life should last. These sentiments he had stiongly instilled into the minds of his feUow-war- THE PROPHET FRANCIS. 216 riors ; and at every council fire his eloquence rose to thunder tones, invoking vengeance on the foe that had invaded their territory, and robbed them of their property and the Uves of their friends. At that time there were many miUtary stations and forts established throughout the South, for the defense of the inhabitants against the attacks of the Indians, who still remained, contending for every inch of the land they justly called their own, and of which no govemment authority or diplomacy had a right to deprive them. It happened on a certain. day, that while the chief and his men were out on a hunting or scouting expe dition, they made a prisoner of a soldier who belong ed to Fort Gadsden, in Georgia. He had gone out on a fishing excursion, and, on his return, had lost himself in the forest. He was taken into camp, and being a soldier, a council of war was held, to decide his fate. It was unanimously resolved that he must die. Blood for blood; for had an Indian been thus seen in the woods, he would not have been aUowed that respite ; no, not even the form of a trial, but would have been shot down in his tracks, as a wild beast. Many had thus been cruelly mur dered ; and had mercy been exercised by the whites, the Indians might have been taught to resort to other modes of warfare in treating with them. But the die was cast, the doom of the poor soldier was sealed. 216 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. After the solemn ceremonies had passed — for the Prophet Francis would allow no victim to be tor mented before his time, nor yet to be ushered into the presence of the Great Spirit -without due time for preparation — ^the soldier was taken out and bound to a tree, around which were placed dry fagots, which were to be kindled by the torch of execu tion. At length the fatal moment came. The Indians were ranged around the victim. The torch has been Ughted at the councU fire, and its bearer is seen approaching, brandfehing - it over his head. He is a young and npble-Joi^ng Indian, the same age as the victim whose death he is about to seal. With rapid steps he advances, and the ranks open to let him pass. He stands in front of the victim ready to apply the torch. But the voice of the chief has not uttered the command, the death warrant has not been given. All eyes are turned in that direc tion. But what do they see ? ,A young and beauti ful maiden at her father's feet, pleading for mercy in behalf of the soldier. She was no stranger to battle, for in the thickest of the fight, habited as a young warrior, she dealt many a fatal blow. Nor was she a stranger to the scene which was about to be enacted. She had often heard the fatal word given by her chieftain father, and had seen the smoke and fiames bear away the spirit of the victim to a world unknown. THE PROPHET FRANCIS. 217 " He must die," sternly said the chief. " Nay, my father ; spare the young man. Though his race may have -wronged and injured us, it may be he is not like them guilty." " The council have adjudged him to death, and he must die." " Then will I die with him." So saying, she sprang to her feet, and before the word was given, flew to the stake, and throwing her arms around the neck of the victim, awaited the result. The entreaties and perseverance of the daughter proved successful, and tlj^ife of the young man was spared. All were astoniine^-^t the act of the girl. Not a word had she spoken before in his behalf, nor had she betrayed the least signs of commiseration, or manifested the slightest interest in the prisoner. Whether the act of the heroic girl was prompted by the emotions of her humane and benevolent heart, or whether she had, conceived an affection for the young American soldier, was a secret which died with her ; for to all entreaties that she would reveal the motives which prompted her interference in be half of the victim, she was silent. Though ransomed from death by the intercession of the Indian maiden, the soldier was not released from captivity. He was, however, aUowed the largest Uberty, and freated, for the sake of the chief's daughter, -with the greatest kindness, and 218 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. from her he received many proofs of the noble generosity which flrst manifested itself in offering herself as a sacrifice to save his life. Such were the Uberties allowed him, that he could almost at any time have made his escape ; but, for the sake of her who had rescued him from a cruel death, he chose to remahi in bondage until his release should be effected by other hand's than his own. Nor was it a gi-eat while until the period arrived when he was set at liberty. A party of Spaniards finding him one day, as he was higiting in the woods, re captured him, and he was^y them restored to the American army, in whilfl^e resumed his duties as a soldier. Not long after this the Americans were reinforced, and efficient measures were taken to destroy the Indian and Spanish forts and towns along the frontier ; and among the most important which they wished to demoUsh, was the garrison of St. Mark's, which contained the Prophet Francis and his men. The forces were all gathered together, and stealthily, under the cover of the night, they made a descent upon the unsiispecting warriors. Under such cir cumstances, with such a force, the fortress was stormed, and feU a prey to the assailants. The chief and his famUy, with his brave warriors, fell into the hands of the enemy. As captives they were bound, and led away to execution. One, and THE PROPHET FRANCIS. 219 one only, had made an escape. The eldest daughter, vigilant and fieet of foot, escaped from the garrison, and, though pursued, she distanced aU who gave chase, until, in the darkness and soUtude, she was safe from the avenger. The chief and wife, ¦with his younger daughter, were taken on board an American schooner. With them, also, was a confederate chief. The daughter who was at Uberty, knowing that her father and sister would inevitably be put to death, resolved on making an effort, at least, to , effect their de liverance. She was led Jo indulge in the hope of success, by being inforkied that they had been taken on board a British vessel. She accordingly procured a Ught canoe, and with the soft but rapid dip of her oar, sped like an arrow over the waters, and was soon in speaking distance of the vessel. What was her dismay to hear from the hoarse, gruff voice that accosted her, and to see from the stripes and stars at the mast-head, that she was mistaken! Slowly and sadly she turned her prow from the floating prison which contained all that was dear to her on earth. Her wail, as she gave up all for lost, was only heard by the waves and borne by the winds which rocked the little bark that carried her to the now desolate shore. Invok ing the Great Spfrit, she fled into the wilderness to seek help from some of her race. But, alas! 220 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. that help never came ; and without even a form of trial, without ceremony, or the slightest show of sympathy, the Prophet Francis and his feUow-chief were hung. It may be that he deserved death, but not the death of a felon or a tiaitor. He had, in the defense of his o'wn soil and race, spread death through many ranks, and many were made widows and orphans by his hand ; but it was in what, is denominated honorable war, and the justice of his cause; in comparison with that of his enemies, the white men, will appear when all nations shall be assembled at the last tribjBnal. Well has one, who is identified with the history of this country, and who gallantly fought many of her battles, said, " From the landing at Jamestown, down to the last war with the Indians, the white man has invariably been the aggressor." Is it a wonder that the red man, who has witnessed such aggressions and re ceived such inhuman treatment from the white man, should look with suspicion and distrust upon his religion? It is said of Ninigret, the proud and noble chief of the Narragansets, that he op posed the introduction of the white man's reUgion among his tribe, and that he was deaf to all the entreaties of the missionaries, who plead that their reUgion would infuse a greater benevolence, kind ness of heart, and humanity, as well as raise his people in the scale of civiUzation and refinement. THE PROPHET FRANCIS. 221 "Nay," said he, "when the Gospel makes good white men, then come to Ninigret and his red brethren, and we will receive you." Among that band of American soldiers who stood around the place of execution, was one who had been snatched from a death of cruelty, but one of far less ignominy than the chief was now suffering. And while his angel deUverer stood weeping as if her heart would break, at the foot of that scaffold, he was silent and unmoved. Need we tell the reader who he was? Need we say that, after the dreadful scene had passed, when that craven-hearted soldier offered his hand to the^beautiful, soiTow-stricken maiden, she recoiled from him as from the touch of an adder, and indignantly exclaimed, "Become the -wife of a man who could stand unmoved and silent at the death of a chief whose child had saved him from the stake? Become the daughter of a people who have murdered my father in cold blood? Never! My own heart would despise me; my nation would abhor me; and an ignominy, worse than death upon the scaffold, would cover my name and memory forever." Thus saying, the heroic girl took her mother by the arm, and they turned mournfully away, seeking the deep solitude of the -wilderness. From that day and that hour, they were never seen or heard of after ward. They fied from a society where justice and 14 222 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. mercy had no abode, and sought, in the depths of the forest, communion -with that Great Spirit who -will, in the council of angels, justify and reward the innocent, and condemn and punish the guilty. The blood of the red man, which has been poured out like water over the length and breadth of this land, crieth aloud to heaven; and a sin-avenging God -wiU hear that cry. The day of recompense will come; and as na tions must be judged in time, after place for repent ance and restitution has been given, the Judge of aU the earth, if that restitution is not made, wiU strike this nation from the roll of existence, and commission his curse to dig its grave. LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 225 CHAPTEE IX. LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. "Where is my home, my forest home, the proud land of my sires? Where stands the wig-wam of my pride, where gleam the council fires? Where are my kindred's hallovred graves, my friends so light and free? Gone, gone forever from my vie-w I Great Spirit, can it be ?" No name connected with Indian story has spread further, or exerted a greater influence in the early history of the West, than that of Logan. From what we can gather in regard to his early Ufe, we leam that he was the second son of a distinguished chief of the Cayuga nation. His father, on account of his attachment to the English nation, was of gi-eat service to the country, having the confidence of aU the Six Nations, as well as that of the English; and served frequently as mediator during the early Indian wars which prevailed. He was highly esteemed by the officer of the Indian Department, under the govern ment, -with whom he acted conjointly, serving the country with great fidelity until his death. His residence was at Shamokin, and his house was the home of hospitality. No one was ever tumed away 226 PIONEERS OP THE, WEST. from the door of the kind and generous Shikellemus, for that was the name of the venerable chief. He ¦was always the friend of the whites, and never for a moment faltered in his attachment and friendship. It remained -with him during bis long and useful life; and when death closed his career, the white man felt that he had lost a friend, whose place it would be difficult to fill by any of the red race. His name and fame had spread far and wide, and when Count Zinzendorf, who introduced Moravianism into England, -visited this country to look after his scat tered fiock in the wilderness, in the year 1742, he visited him at his house in Shamokin. Heckewelder, the associate of Post and Zeisberger, who were the earliest Protestant missionaries among the Indians in the West, and who had established missions among the Delawares, and were acquainted -with numerous Westem tiibes, became acquainted -with Logan in 1772, who was introduced to him as the son of the distinguished and friendly chief ShikeUemus. He found, in the person of the son, a fit representative of the father, a tiue and faithful friend of the white man. The missionary says he not only spoke -with fiuency the EngUsh language, but that he had adopt ed, to a great degree, the habits of the whites, and was then living in his cabin, and cultivating a piece of ground at the mouth of Big Beaver Creek, on the same stieam on which the Mora-vian to-wn was situ- LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 227 ated, not far from the neighborhood of Cuskagee. "WhUe on his passage down the Ohio Eiver the fol lowing year, Heckewelder stopped at the residence of Logan, and was received in the most hospitable and cordial manner by his family. Here this humane and generous Indian Uved in peace and happiness, surrounded by his family, refus ing all efforts and inducements on the part of his fel low-Indians to engage with the French in their wars with the English. So far from yielding to these solicitations, he sought, by every means in his power, to stop the deadly strife, and bring about peace be tween the beUigerent forces. Alas! that his fidelity and kindness should be rewarded -with the most bar barous act of cruelty perpetrated by those whom he befriended. The Western country having been thrown open to land speculators, whose only God is self, and whose only ambition is gain, at an early day they were found scouring the country and selecting the best lands. These land-sharks, happening to be robbed on a cer tain occasion — in all probabiUty by some of their own people — charged, as they did every mishap or misfor tune that befell them, the robbery upon the Indians. The robbery occurred on the Ohio Eiver, not many miles from the residence of Logan. A man by the name of Cressap, and another by the name of Great- house, petty officers in the militia, officiously took it 228 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. into their hands to avenge this wrong upon the Indians, and, collecting a party, they started out to scour the country. Their first attack was on two defenseless Indians, encamped a few miles above Wheeling Creek, on the Ohio Eiver. These they surprised and killed. Having learned that there were some more further down the river, and flushed with their valorous achievement, they started in hot pursuit. When the company, headed by Cressap, arrived at the encampment, they did not make an immediate attack; they were too cowardly and crav en-hearted for that ; but, assuming the garb of friendship and professing the utmost kindness, the Indians were, in an unsuspecting hour, faUen upon and murdered in cold blood. Among the number of the slain were some of the family of Logan. This dastardly act was followed by another, in which Greathouse figured conspicuously. Opposite to him, on the Ohio side of the river, was an encampment of friendly Indians, from whom he had received many kindnesses. But his soul was beyond the reach of generous emotions, and the friendships and sympa thies of life were ignored in his inhuman nature. Collecting together about thirty men, he secreted them in the vicinity, and went into the camp, under the guise of friendship, for the purpose of ascertain ing their condition and numbers. They had been apprised of the murder of their brethren, and were LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 229 meditating revenge. Though he was in danger, they were too magnanimous to take the Ufe of one un armed man. Some there were, however, that be came much excited at his appearance, beUeving that he was not a stranger to the deeds of -violence which had been committed. An Indian woman, fearing he might be roughly dealt with, came to him and secretly warned him of his danger, advising him to leave. But he was bent on their destruction, and he could not let so favorable an opportunity pass -without improvement. Knowing the love of many of them for strong drink, he in-vited as many as would to cross over the river with him, as he had good rum and plenty of it for aU who would come. Quite a num ber accepted the invitation, crossed the river, and went with Greathouse into a tavern in the white set tlements, and after drinking until they were intoxi cated, the brave and heroic party of Greathouse, fully armed, fell upon them and murdered every one, ex cept a little girl. Among the number thus brutally butchered were the only brother of Logan and his sister, whose deUcate condition gave to the horrid crime a greater aggravation. But that was not aU. She was the one who had given the friendly warning to Greathouse. The remaining Indians on the other side, on hear ing the reports of the guns, immediately fllled two canoes with armed warriors, who started for the 230 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. scene of conflict. But, alas ! it was to meet the same sad fate which had befallen their brethren. No sooner did they approach within gun-shot, than they were fired upon by the whites, who lay conceal ed among the bushes on the shore. Many were kill ed and wounded, and those that escaped retumed to the other shore. This conduct on the part of the whites stung Lo gan to the heart: the very iron entered his soul. They, from whom he had reason to expect kindness and protection, had, without provocation, murdered his family and his friends. It was more than mortal coiUd bear, and, filled with despair and madness, he resolved to be avenged. Sounding the war cry, he summoned the Indians to arms. The first blow he struck was upon a white settlement on the Monon gahela. One man who was taken prisoner by the Indians in this attack, was treated by Logan with the greatest kindness. When they arrived at the Indian to-wn a council of war was held, and he was condemned to be bumed at the stake. The fearful hour had come, and all the preparations had been made for the execution of the victim ; but the elo quence of Logan prevailed in his behalf, and he was saved. In the fall of 1774, a fierce and deadly battle was fought at Point Pleasant, Yirginia, between the com bined forces of the Sha-wnees, Delawares, Mingoes, LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 231 and Cayugas, and the soldiers under the command of General Lewis. The scene of action lay on the southem shore of the Ohio Eiver. The troops, col lected together from different parts of the country, amounting in aU to about eleven hundred, were ex pecting the arrival of Governor Dunmore, whose men would augment their numbers to twenty-three hun dred. They were divided into three regiments, one of which was commanded by Charles Le-wis, another by Doctor Fleming, while the third was under the command of John Field ; and all under the general command of Andrew Lewis. About half an hour before sunrise on the morning of Monday, the tenth day of October, some of the soldiers discovered the Indians about a mile from the camp. Others soon after came and communicated the same intelUgence. The brave commander, who had served under Generals Washington and Braddock in the old French war, was not at aU terrified at the approach of the hostile foe. He immediately ordered his brother. Colonel Charles Lewis, and Colonel Fleming, to take out their com panies and reconnoiter the ground. No sooner did they come in sight of the Indians than an engagement commenced, and it was not long until the war cry resounded throughout the American forces, and the battle became general. It was a hot and deadly con flict. The Indians, goaded to madness by the cruel ties inflicted upon them and their fellow red men. 232 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. fought -with a desperation and courage tiuly remark able. No less remarkable was the discipUne they sustained throughout the contest. But Logan was there, and his master spirit like a magnet held them together, and the tones of his eloquence, rising above the din of battle, inspired them with courage, and nerved them for the deadly strife. Soon both colonels feU in the battle, one dead, and the other wounded, having received three baUs from the death- dealing rifle of the enemy. The fight became more and more terrific, and more and more tei-rible was the slaughter, the Indians e-vidently having the ad vantage, and gaining rapidly upon the forces of the whites. For six long hours the battle had been raging ¦without any cessation, and as the sun rose to high noon, and commenced his descent down the Western sky, it seemed to forebode the fate of the army. For one hour more the Americans fought breast to breast with the foe, but they were growing fewer and fewer in numbers, and weaker in power. The crisis was rapidly approaching, and soon the fate of the army ¦would be decided; but just as they were about to abandon the field, or resign themselves into the hands of their enemies, the gaUant Colonel Field, with his regiment, rushed to the scene of action. Alas! that it was to meet his death, for, like the ill- fated colonels who preceded him, a baU from some LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 233 unerring rifie pierced his heart, and the intrepid soldier feU dead on the spot where he was nobly fighting. Still the battle raged. The fatigued troops, ha-ving been reinforced by the gallant conduct of Field's regiment, ralUed their exhausted energies and fought on. The last rays of the sun were tinging the forest and fiashing on the river, and still the fight lasted, but not with the same vigor and fury as before. As night approached a stratagem was resorted to. A company of the bravest men were ordered to ascend Crooked Creek, a small tributary of the Kanawha which emptied into that river a short distance from its mouth, for the pui-pose of gaining the rear of the enemy. But there was an eagle-eye upon their movements, and, fearing the result, night having ar rived and spread its dark mantle over the forest, the Indians retreated ; and thus terminated one of the most desperate and long-continued battles ever fought in the West. It was emphatically a Western battle, fought by Westem pioneers, as there was not a man in that army who fought and fell, or survived the con flict, that did not hail from some region west of the AUeghanies. Left dead upon that triangular spot of ground formed by the junction of the Ohio and Kanawha, were one half of the commissioned officers of that gaUant army. Many were slain on both sides. 234 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Comstalk, for that was the name of the chief who had the general command of the Indians, retreated with his forces to Old ChUlicothe, on the west bank of the Scioto, where the to^wn of WestfaU now stands, that being head-quarters, and the place from whence they had started out to intercept Lewis and his men, who were on their route to join Dunmore. The Americans were well satisfied with the terri ble conflicts of that eventful day, fatal as it was to many of their gaUant officers and soldiers. After committing to the sepulcher in the midst of that for est the brave who fell in action, on the next day the army commenced their march through an unbroken wilderness to join the other wing, under Lord Dun more, encamped on the Pickaway plains, on the Scioto, near a hundred miles distant. They did not leave, however, before establishing -a small gai-rison at the Point, if for nothing else, to guard the sacred ashes of their dead. After a fatiguing march. Colonel Lewis and his men arrived, and found Dunmore encamped in the neighborhood of the Indian town. Not far north were the ancient works of a forgotten race, who had constructed an immense circle of earth with gateways and a ditch surrounding the whole, like that which was made by Cyrus around the waUs of Babylon, to divert the course of its river. Here in LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 236 the neighborhood stood Logan's cabin ; for since his mother, sister, and brother had fallen by the hands of a race he had more befriended than his own, he had tumed away with despair and madness from the calm and quiet scenes of his rural life on the Ohio, to pitch his tent among his savage brethren, and with them unite his destiny forever. It was a hard strug gle for a humane, generous son of a noble and gener ous father, the invariable friend of the whites, to break over the ties and associations that linked him to the friends of other days ; but there is a point of endurance beyond which the most magnanimous and generous spirit cannot go, and as the sweetest wines are said to make the stiongest vinegar, so love and friendship sometimes turn to wormwood and gall. So it was with Logan ; the genial sunshine and the bright flowers of his life were changed by the cold, desolate winter of an adversity which left no ray to shine upon his heart and no bloom to shed happiness upon his Ufe. Can it be thought stiange that he who, on return ing home from a hunting excursion, should find his house desolate, his aged mother slain, his only brother and sister murdered in cold blood, suddenly, without warning or provocation — can it be thought strange that he should become an enemy of the race who could be guilty of such cruelty? No. We only wonder at his forbearance. 236 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. The two branches of the army having united, and their force being such that it would be impossible for all the Indian tribes that could then be raUied to overcome the army of Dunmore, and seeing that they would soon be driven from the plains, a tieaty of peace was concluded upon ; and soon a white man, by the name of Elliot, is seen approaching the Unes of the encampment of Dunmore's army with a flag of truce. Accordingly, though much to the dissatisfac tion of the Yirginians, who wished to avenge their loss at Point Pleasant, a council was held in the pres ence of the troops, consisting of upward of two thou sand. Many Shawnee chiefs were there in council, but Cornstalk was the principal speaker. He boldly charged upon the whites the cause and consequences of the last war, and referred to the inhuman freat- ment of Logan and his family. The Mingo chief was not there to speak for him self. It was not, however, because he was un avoidably detained, or that it was impossible for him to be present at the councU. No; he was in his cabin, not many mUes distant from the treaty ground; but his proud soul disdained to meet or freat -with a race from whom he had received such inhuman treatment, and from whom he had a right to expect nothing but acts of kindness. Dunmore dispatched a messenger to bring him to the coimcU, but he was deaf to aU his entreaties. Taking the LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 237 messenger out a short distance from the cabin into the forest, they sat down on a log together, and there, whUe scalding tears chased each other down his manly cheeks, he recited the sad story of his wrongs. The interview ended, and the messenger was about to depart, but, before leaving, he asked Logan what answer he should retum to Govemor Dunmore. Eising from his seat, and straightening up his tall, graceful form, which had been bent -with sadness as he spoke of the desolations -wrought in his quiet, peaceful home by the hand of the white man, he said, in firm and commanding tones ; "Tell Lord Dunmore and his officers in council, that I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him no meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed, as they passed, and said, Logan is the friend of the white man. I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cressap, the last spring, in cold blood murdered all the rela tions of Logan, not even sparing my women and chil dren. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins 238 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. of any Uving creature. This caUed on me for re venge. I have sought, I have killed many ; I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my eountry, I rejoice in the beams of peace. But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He -wiU not tum on his heel to save his Ufe. Who is there to mourn for Logan ? Not one." The foUo-wing paraphrase of Logan's speech was ¦written by J. D. Canning, Esq., of Massachusetts : THE SHADE OE LOGAN. Thro-Qgh fhe ¦wilds of the West, in the fall of the year, A -wanderer stray'd in pursuit of the deer ; And clad in the garb of the hunter was he — The moccasin'd foot, and the bead-garter'd knee. Though far toward sunrise the wanderer's home, He loved in the gardens of nature to roam ; By her melodies charm'd, by her varying tale, He follow'd through forest and prairie her trail. By the shore of a river at sunset he stray'd, And linger'd to rest 'neath a sycamore shade ; For soft was the breath of the summer-like air, And the sweetest of scenes for a painter 'was there. He mused : and in slumber the past was restored, When thy waters, Scioto, a 'wilderness shored! And the Shade of a Mingo before him uprose — The friend of the white man, the fear of his foes. LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 239 Erect and majestic his form as of yore ; The mists of the stream as a mantle he wore ; And o'er his dark bosom the bright wampum show'd, Like the hues of the bow on the folds of a cloud. The tones of his voice were the accents of grief, For gloomy and sad was the Shade of the Chief; And low as the strain of the whispering shell, His -words on the ear of the slumberer fell : " I appeal to the white man ungrateful, to say If he e'er from my cabin went hungry away ? If naked and cold unto Logan he came, And he gave him no blanket, and kindled no flame ? " When vrar, long and bloody, last deluged the land, Not Logan was seen at the head of his band ; From his cabin he look'd for the flghting to cease, And, scorn'd by his brethren, -wrought the -wampum of peace. " My love to the white man was steadfast and true, Unlike the deep hatred my red brothers knew ; With him I had thought to have builded my home, No more o'er the forest and prairie to roam. " When the leaf which pale Autumn is withering now Was fresh from its budding, and green on the bough. Unprovoked, by the white man my kindred were slain, And Logan became the wild Indian again ! " There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins Of any who lives — ^not a mortal remains ! Not even my wife or my children were spared — All alike at tie hand of the murderer shared I 15 240 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. " This call'd for revenge, and to seek it I rose ; My hatchet is red with the blood of my foes, The ghosts of the dead are appeased by their Kre— I have glutted my vengeance, and scorn to retire! " I joy for my country that peace should appear, But think not that mine is the gladness of fear. Logan never felt fear. In the deadliest strife He'U not turn on his heel for the saving of life. " Who is there to sorrow for Logan ? Not one !" Thus spoke, and the Shade ofthe Mingo was gone! But, Lo&AN, thy words in his mem'ry are borne, Who 'waking did mourn thee, and ever will mourn. When Logan finished his message, Gibson de parted for the camp of Lord Dunmore, and deUvered it to him and his officers. The treaty progressed, and was finaUy concluded. A messenger was dis patched to Old Chillicothe, where Logan resided, who communicated the result to the Indians and whites who were there ; that hostilities had ceased, peace was declared, the tomahawk was buried, and the white and red man were to live as friends. The inteUigence received was a cause of general re joicing. The soldiers, who had been dispatched by Dunmore to watch the movements of Logan after his message had been sent to tiie council, united ¦with the Indians, and a general scene of back woods festivity ensued, in which there was dancing LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 241 and froUcking, and firing of guns, and the air rung with the glad shouts of peace. But Logan was not there. He had refused to enter into the treaty, and he could take no part in the celebration of a peace with those who had for feited all right to his friendship. Had his friends and kindred been slain in honorable warfare, none would have been more ready than he to hail the approach of peace, or to unite with them in celebrating that event. But such was not the case; and feeUng in his heart that he had no true friendship for such enemies, he could not and would not feign an amity that did not exist. Leaving his cabin, he started out on a hunting ex cursion, and pitched his camp near what was called the Big Spring, one of the most noted springs of clear living water to be found in the West, and now known as "Logan's Spring." The camp of Logan was on the hill, not far distant from the spring, and commanding a fine view of the surrounding country. Here, after the toils and fatigues of the chase, he would sit for hours in melancholy musing over the fate of those of his race who had passed away, and meditating upon the destiny which must sooner or later overtake the remainder, as the white man encroached upon their hunting grounds. Early one morning, just as the sun tinged the tops of the trees of the forest, he rose as he was accus- 242 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. tomed, and left his camp to go do-wn to the spring, it was a lovely moming. All nature lay in calm repose beneath the first blush of the mom, genial as the smile of a mother over the sleeping loved ones of her household. The birds, those early harbingers of day, were up, and caroling their matin songs among the trees and wild flowers which bloomed in fra grance around. As Logan cast his eyes in the direction of the spring, he saw, stietched at full length upon its grassy border, a hunter, asleep, -with his faithful dog beside him. The sight of the white man was the occasion, at once, of raising a tumult in that dark, deep sea of passion, which only slumbered when his thoughts were diverted to other objects than those which never failed to plow up the deep est furrows of his soul. Instinctively he raised his rifle to his eye, but at that moment the growl of the hunter's dog awoke his sleeping master. The hunter had been out surveying the lands in the neighborhood of the spring, -with a view of entering them as hig own. In the evening, on arriving at the spring, at whose pure bright waters he quenched his thirst, fatigued and weary 'with the toils of the day, he partook of his venison and other articles of food which he had with him, and concluded to rest there for the night. He was a flne specimen of a backwoodsman, tall, well proportioned, and athletic. He seemed LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 243 formed for endurance as well as fleetness; and a backwoods training had quaUfled him for all the incidents and emergencies of a border Ufe. The growl of his dog, who lay close by his side, roused him from his slumbers. As he opened his eyes, the flrst object that met thefr gaze was the flgure of an Indian warrior, reflected from the surface of the bright water, standing on the opposite hiU, in the clear light of the morning, with his rifle at his shoulder, pointing toward him. Was it a dream? Was the image on the mirror-like surface of that transparent pool a mere shadow, without a substan tial basis? Such might have been his impressions, but for the growl of his quick-scented, keen-eyed, ever-watchful dog, whose eyes were fastened upon a distant object. Without waiting a moment to confirm his suspicion, he seized his rifle and sprang to his feet. About flfty yards from him, as we have already described, on a hiU overlooking the spring, stood an Indian, whose flgure stood out boldly against the clear moming sky. There he stood, fixed as a statue, just as he had seen his form and attitude represented in the water. It is usual for Indians, as weU as white men, when they meet a foe in the woods, armed, to fly to the covert of the near est tree. But the Indian stirred not, neither did he fire. Just as the hunter was about to puU his tiigger, the Indian lowered his rifle, and, thro'wing the barrel 244 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. upon his left arm, opened the pan and threw out the powder. Instantly the hunter did the same; and, thro-wing down his rifle, he bounded up the hiU, and with outstretched hand, in token of peace and friend ship, received the wonderful stranger. Who but Logan, the Mingo chief and white man's friend, could have acted thus magnanimously, and, in danger of losing his life, thus set an example which every true and generous heart must regard with en thusiasm, as a species of moral subUmity rarely, if ever, equaled? WeU did he say to Dunmore, "Logan knows no fear, and would not turn on his heel to save his Ufe." How strongly does this contrast with the conduct of those who, on seeing an Indian canoe, filled by the wife and children of an Indian chief, fioating on the placid waters of the Kanawha, sought the cover of the bushes which lined its margin, and from thefr ambuscade fired and kiUed the helpless and unprotected mother and her little ones ! But when that winding stream shall cease to flow, and mingle its waters with the "beautiful river," and the surroimding hiUs shaU exist no more, the inno cent and the guilty, the slain and the slayer, shaU meet a judgment, from the decision of which neither power, nor wealth, nor influence can escape ; whose Judge no arts can bribe, and whose decisions -wiU be eternal. LOGAN, THE MINGO CHIEF. 245 Logan — ^the kind, generous-hearted, and magnani mous Mingo chief — ^has passed away. His ashes rest, if not in the same locaUty -with his kindred, at least in the same common grave. To a world of spirits, beyond the dark and shoreless river, " Whose waveless tide The kno-wn and unknown 'worlds divide, Where all must go," he has gone to mingle with the departed. On a grassy knoU in that rich and beautiful valley, watered by the Scioto, and not far from the very spot where he deUvered his speech to General Gibson, among the wild flowers which nature has strewn over his grave, repose in silence aU that remains of tho o^ce noble and manly form of Logan. 246 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. CHAPTEE X. THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. In that wild, romantic region, in which the north branch of the Potomac takes its rise, there Uved, in an early day, a family consisting of a man, his wife, and a son ; the flrst and the last bearing the sobriquet of " Old Joe," and " Young Joe." Their cabin stood in a notch of the Alleghany Mountains, where nature appeared in her gloomiest, and grandest, and yet most romantic moods. Not a soUtary human being had pitched his tent, or camp, or erected his cabin within thirty miles. WeU could Old Joe exclaim, when from some craggy peak he looked do'wn upon the interminable forest, with Alexander Selkirk, " I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute." Nptie kncji', who knew anything of the locaUty, which was obtained from Indians and hunters who sometimes penetrated the wilds, how or when he came there. Some even conjectured that he always lived there, and was a product of the mountain on THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 247 whose craggy sides he had his home. He was as much a chUd of nature as the Indian himself, and was perfectly familiar with aU her moods. He" took deUght in baring his brow to the -wild winds which, in -winter's storm, swept in howUng gusts over the mountain ; or, away up amid the nursing-place of tempests, where, in summer storm, the Ughtnings seemed, as of old on cloud-covered Sinai, to issue Uke flery darts from a magazine on its summit, has he gone up, Uke Moses, undaunted, and held communion with the God of the storm. There is a rapture enkindled in the heart of a child of nature, in witnessing her various phases and representations, more sublime and transporting than ever can be inspired by art. To him, when bleak and dreary winter comes, and the trees, stripped of their foliage, stietch out their skeleton arms, Uke giant sentinels on the mountain, and the earth is covered with a winding-sheet of snow, there are charms that the denizen of a city, wrapped up and shivering in his mantles of fur, nfsver can discover. Or when suminer comes, and spreads its smiles over mountain and vaUey, only such as breathe the air of the woods and iqiountains know the heaven 6f enjoy ment imparted by her exhilarating breath. Old Joe loved the soUtudes of the wilderness as weU as Cooper's wUd "Nattie," when only an occasional band of Indian warriors crossed his immense hunting 248 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. grounds. After clearings had been made, and the eye, instead of resting upon thick forests, beheld fle^.ds of waving com, one said to Nattie, who re ferred to the pleasure of the past, "It must have been a melancholy pleasure." "Nay," repUed the hunter ; " have I not told you it was cheerful ; and that when the trees began to be covered -with leaves, and the ice had melted away from the lake, it was a perfect paradise. But," said the hunter, " there was a more magnificent place away up in the CatskiU Mountains, where I went often in search of wolves, bears, and panthers. Up there," pointing in the direction, " where the summit looks as blue as a piece of clear sky holding the clouds as a drapery, like the smoke which curls over the head of an Indian chief at a council fire. Just there, where one of the crags juts out and overhangs the river, and where the rocks thunder down, almost perpendicularly, a thousand feet, there," said the hunter, his eyes flashing -with excitement, " there I see aU creation. I was on that hiU when Yaughn burned 'Sopus in the last war, and I saw the vessels come out of the Highlands. * The river was in sight for seventy miles, under my feet, looking Uke a curled sha-ving, though it was eight long miles from where I stood to its banks. I could see the place where Albany stands, and the Hamp shire Mountains, looking like haystacks of green grass under my feet ; and- the day the royal tioops burned THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 249 ihe town, the smoke seemed so near that I thought { could almost hear the screams of the women. AU chat God has done, or man can do, is to be seen there." To the child of nature there is no soUtude in the desert or on the mountain. The city, full of its teem ing thousands, would be to him a desolate place. So felt Leather Stocking, so felt Boone, and so felt Old Joe. In his mountain home he was happy, aiid that happiness continued until the days of his earthly pil grimage ended, and he breathed out his spirit into the hands of that God who gave it. Young Joe had grown up to manhood, and such a manhood as would take the materials composing half a dozen young men of the present day to manufac ture. His father was a large, athletic man, of fine form and Herculean strength, and his mother had the strength and endurance of a dozen modem ladies. From such a parentage everything might be expect ed in the way of strength, activity, and courage. In deed, in physical strength, as well as size, he exceed ed his father, and when at full maturity he was kno-wn by the name of Big Joe, in contradistinction fi-om his father. Old, Joe. As he would sometimes descend the mountain heights into the valleys, and penefrate the settlements which were here and there to be found, widely separated in the wilderness, for the purpose of exchanging the skins of the -wild 250 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. beasts which he had slain, for powder, lead, and other articles for the use of the family, he became an object of attention far and near, not only on accoun. of his enormous size, but for his stiength and activi ty ; and whenever a young man rose above his fel lows in size, it would be said of him, " You will soon become as large as Big Joe." His stiength as a wrestler and fighter, his activity as a racer, and his skill as a marksman, on these occasions had been re peatedly put to the test ; but in all trials he came off the victor, and remained the Uon of the mountain and the valley. Like aU large, strong men, he was good natured, kind and gentle, always giving rather than taking the advantage of any of his competitors for the prize in the ring, the race-course, or target shooting. Everything was game to him, as he woidd throw down in rapid succession, one after another, of the pick and choice of the country. So in the race. Giving aU the start, he would bound forth and distance aU upon the course, sometimes, in his play ful glee, seizing and carrying a competitor with him, and awarding him the prize, by casting him in ad vance at the goal. No one could beat him -with the rifie, an instrument with which he was more famUiar than the ax. He could load as he run, with the greatest ease, and his aim was unerring. His nerves of brass never allowed his gun to waver a hafr's breadth from the sight of his eagle-eye, and if he THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 251 ever failed to make a center shot, it was the fault of the gun, and not the marksman. No Indian could match him in the use of the tomahawk, because none could throw it as far as he. In fine, aU loved him, and none sought a quarrel with him ; even those famed for their strength and pugilistic power, and whose envy was excited by the rivalry his presence among the settlers occasioned, though they would have given the world if they could have conquered him, never sought an opportunity for a fight, con sidering, as they did, prudence in such a case the better part of valor ; for even a Tom Hyer or a Yan kee Sullivan would have soon lost his wind in a contest with Big Joe. Though the latter class of which we have been speaking, formed an exception to our general remark about the esteem for the mountain hunter, yet they had too much respect for his power, and too great a fear of his arm, even "To hint a fault, Or hesitate dislike." As it was, he commanded the homage and respect, if not the love, of all. Envy he had none, because there was nothing out of which to manufacture so base and ignoble a feeling. He was not, however, without ambition; nor was there ever a truly great and noble spirit in the world without such a Godr given impulse to action. But his ambition was to 252 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. outrun, not by throwing impediments in the way of his competitor, or by crossing his track, but, giving aU a start, and an open field, and fair play, to distance them in the race. Like the proud eagle of his native mountain, which in mighty circles sweeps away into mid-heaven, with its undazzled eye on the sun, leav ing all the birds of the mountain below him, so he, above a mean act, and untempted by any lure to take advantage by any attempt to disparage oa- weaken the fame of his fellows, either in regard to skill, strength, or valor, sought only to soar above them by his o-wn inherent power. To all entreaties to leave his mountain home, and take up his abode in the settlements, he turned a deaf ear. He loved the creations of God as seen in their native, unadorned wildness and beauty, more than all the creations of man; and after the sports were ended, in aU of which he entered -with spirit and glee, and he had supplied himself with powder and lead, he would retum to his home, as the eagle to his eyrie, on the mountain. The only living beings he would see for months were deer, bears, wolves, and panthers, and the various tribes of animals in habiting a primeval forest. His solitude, however, in process of time, was broken in upon, and his sacred retreat in danger of being too closely invaded. One man erected his camp six mUes east of him, and he could sometimes THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 253 hear the report of his rifle in the woods. Another erected a cabin about the same distance in a westerly direction; and, finally, a hunter, -with a numerous family, came aud pitched his cabin within the short distance of three miles. We have said he was not envious ; and to show that no such feeling existed in his mind, or that the slightest degree of selfishness had disturbed the deep, calm quiet of his transparent soul, what he might, by the laws of squatter govern ment, have claimed as his o-wn, he cheerfully relin quished to the new comers, and, bidding adieu to the cabin where he was born, and dropping a tear upon the mountain burial-place of his father and mother, he started for more distant Western wilds, and pitched his camp where he could not hear the crack of an other's rifle. The time of his departure was in the spring of 1787. He bent his course toward the set ting sun, and, after traveUng upward of a thousand miles, he at length called a halt a little south of Green Eiver, in Kentucky. Those who are ac quainted with that section of the country, know that many portions now, after the lapse of more than half a century since Big Joe took up his abode there, is stiU unbroken by the hand of civiUzation. Here Joe found plenty of game, and, as he knew of no settlers within many miles of him, he concluded, for the time being at least, to take up his abode in that region, and accordingly pitched his camp and Ughted his fire. 254 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. After remaining in his new location for some time unmolested, his retreat was found by a Kentucky hunter. The Southern Indians had invaded the counfry. A desperate battle had been fought, several years before, on the southern side of the Ohio Eiver, where the gaUant Lewis feU. Boone and Kenton had estabUshed forts in Kentucky, and every effort was made to defend the settlements. The object of the hunter was to apprise Joe of the anticipated ap proach of the Indians, and, it being necessary to unite aU the forces of the whites, to invite him to join them in defending their homes. To this reasonable request he of course could make no objection ; so once more leaving his habitation, he started out with the hunter for the settlements. He had not been long -with his new-made friends until an attack was made. The Indians came in great numbers. A rude fort had been erected, and the women and children were placed within it for security. Having been informed by spies, sent out for the purpose of reconnoitering, of thefr approach, and the direction in which they were coming, the Uttle band went out to meet them. Joe was comparatively a stranger to all of them, and, as true courage never sounds its own trumpet, none knew the full character of their friend and ally until it was tested. That opportunity soon presented itself, and when foe met foe in deadly strife, foremost and in the thickest of the fight, which, after the flrst shots THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 255 were exchanged, was hand to hand, was to be seen the mountain hunter, spreading death and destruc tion at every blow, until he had fairly made a path through the entire ranks of the enemy, leaving the slain in his wake. He swept through them -with the power and impetuosity of a hurricane, which levels the forest in its course. It was the first time he had been roused to fight, the first battle in which he had ever been. He knew nothing of military tactics or of Indian warfare ; and, following his own impetuous natu'-fl, he seemed like a giant, crushing all before him. Though he made such fearful slaughter, yet his comrades were overpowered by numbers, and ere he had slain the last man in his track of death, they had retreated to the fort, leaving him alone with the enemy. He could run as well as fight, and, know ing that his services might be needed for another occasion, he fied, taking a circuit for the fort. Toma hawks flew by him and fleet-footed Indians pursued him, but he distanced all and gained the fort, to the joy of his comrades. Several brave hunters fell on that weU-fought fleld, but a tenfold greater number of Indian warriors. They were in constant expectation of another attack, but they were too weak in numbers to leave the fort and meet the enemy again in the woods. Accordingly, they made every preparation, and resolved to defend themselves, their wives and 16 256 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. children, to the last. Such conflnement did not suit our hero. To be shut up in a fort was as galling to his feelings, as the cage would be to the lion or the eagle ; and he became restless and uneasy. One day he proposed to some of them to go out into the woods with him, for the purpose of hunting the cows; but knowing the danger better, or fearing it more, than he did, to all his entreaties they were silent. Finding, at length, that he could get no one to accompany him, he started out alone, on horseback, taking with him his true and trusty rifle. The whole forenoon was spent in scouring the woods for many miles around the fort. In all his fravels he found no cattle. They had either been kiUed, or driven off by the Indians. The descending sun indicated the approach of even ing, and he turned his horse in the direction of the fort. As he was pursuing the path, he came to a lux uriant vine, from whose pendent branches hung large clusters of grapes. As he had taken no food during the day, he concluded to stay his appetite with the fruit which hung so invitingly in his path. Laying his gun across the pommel of his saddle, and taking off his cap, he commenced filling it with grapes. He had been watched. Evil eyes, intent on his destruction, and burning with revenge for the losses they had sustained by his dreadful arm, are fastened on him; and from both sides ofthe path the crack of deadly rifles is heard. The ball of one struck him THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 257 in the breast, inflicting a severe but not dangerous flesh-wound; the baU of the other pierced the noble animal on which he was seated, and he fell dead under him. Springing to his feet in an instant, with his rifle in his hand, he might have fled, and no foot could have overtaken him, though wounded, and bleeding profusely. But the lion was roused, and he would rather die than run from foes so base. The moment the guns were flred, one of the Indians, u, giant in size, like himself, seeing the blood stream ing from the bare breast of the hunter, gave a yell of savage delight, and sprang toward him with toma hawk in hand. The eye of Joe was upon him, and his gun to his eye, ready, as soon as he approached near enough, to make a sure shot. As soon as the Indian saw the hunter's gun leveled, he darted, quick as thought, behind a tree, not quite large enough, however, to cover his person. Finding that he was not safe from the aim of a backwoods rifleman, he sprang to another; but that was also not quite large enough to protect him from the flre. As a last resort, he kept bounding from one to the other, with his eye intently fixed on the hunter. But the other Indian, where was he? Just there, in another direction, behind a tree, in the act of ram ming down his bullet preparatory to firing again. Only a very smaU part of his person was exposed, and that was produced by the slight curvature of his back 258 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. made by the action necessary for forcing down the ball. The keen eye ofthe hunter was upon him, and instantly turning, he leveled his rifle and flred. The Indian's back was broken by the unerring ball. An other yell, more terrific than the scream of a panther, waked the echoes of the forest, and the big Indian was now bounding toward his victim. When he had approached within tomahawk distance, for he feared a personal encounter, he halted, and threw it with all his force ; but the eagle eye saw the deadly weapon : it was dodged, and flew far out of the reach of either of the combatants. The Indian then, as he saw Joe coming, jumped into the brush. Joe had clubbed his gun, and making a blow which the Indian dodged, the stock was shivered to atoms against a free stand ing close by. He made another blow, and such was its force, that, meeting with no resistance, the Indian again having dodged it, the naked barrel flew out of his hands, beyond the reach of both. At this the Indian gave another yell. They were now equal, unarmed ; two of nature's children, in giant stiength and manhood. One, however, was wounded and bleeding, the other unharmed. They grappled. The struggle was short. Almost in an instant, the Indian was thrown full length upon the ground. But he could not be held there, even by the strong grip of the lion hunter. He was naked, except about the waist, and his skin had been saturated with bear's THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 259 oil. Six times did he gain his feet, and six times were they knocked from under him, with all the ease that a nine-pin could be tripped by the ball, but -with greater certainty. But Joe was growing faint from loss of blood, and it became obvious that something more decisive must be done to terminate the contest. Besides, he knew not to what extent the other Indian had been wounded, and it became him to change his mode of warfare. This last consideration decided the fate of the poor Indian. Joe might have played with him as a cat -with a mouse, and saved his Ufe, but that there was greater danger of losing his own. The last time he threw the Indian, he did not attempt to hold him, but springing from him, he aimed a blow with his flst at his head, just as the Indian was in the act of rising. It came with crushing power, and the Indian fell as if he had been smitten with a thunder bolt. Again he tried to rise, and again the terrible blow sent him back again to the earth. At the third blow the Indian fell heavily, as if dead. .To make sure work, he grasped him by the throat with his left hand, leaving the other free for any contin gencies that might occur. Just as he was about to give him the death grip, the Indian slipped his knife from its sheath by his side; but it was too late, the agony was over, and the spirit of the Indian had gone where earthly conflicts are unknown. We know 260 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. not which to pity the most, the fate of the Indian, or the sad necessity which impeUed the generous-heart ed hunter to take his life. When Joe rose from that fearful contest, and look ed in the direction of the other Indian, he had crawled some distance toward them, and had prop ped his broken back against a log, endeavoring to raise his rifle to fire. Seeing his helpless condition, and being unwilling even to run the risk of being shot by a crippled Indian, he walked off leisurely toward the fort. It was night when he arrived, and, covered as he was, from head to foot, with blood and earth, hatless and gunless, he presented a sin gular spectacle to his comrades. "When he related his adventure, they could scarcely beUeve him. He, however, quieted aU their suspicions by teUing them the work would show for itself; and promising them in the morning to take them to the scene of conflict, he had his wounds dressed and retired for the night. .When the moming came, a company was raised, and they started. On arriving at the spot, they found the dead horse, and the ground torn up con siderably for some distance around, but they found no dead Indian, or any appearance of one. This was a mystery to Joe, and his companions thought they were hoaxed. At length, one of them found a trail in the leaves, which looked as if it had been made THE MOUNTAIN HUNTER. 261 by dragging some heavy body along the ground. This frail was followed, and about one hundred yards from the path they saw the big Indian lying beside a log, covered up witii leaves. As the wounded Indian was obUged to crawl, in consequence of hiS back being broken, he would also leave a track in the leaves. Which was soon found, though not so plain as the other. After following it about two hundred yards fiirther, they found him lying on his back, dead. He had taken his own knife, and with it stabbed himself to the heart, preferring thus to die, than to fall by the hand of the pale face. On returning to the spot where the conflict occurred, search was made for the knife of the big Indian, and it was at length found, driven down into the earth, even with the surface. In all his after life the name of the mountain hunter was as full of terror to the Indians as it was of deUght to the frontier settlers. If he was about ia camp, or fort, or field, mothers -wdth their little ones went to rest with a greater sense of security. The very fear and dread of the man by the Indians, we have no doubt, saved hundreds of lives where his right arm destroyed one. We say that Washington Was raised by an overruUng Providence for the times in which he lived, and so of other heroes and bene factors. May we not say the same of Big Joe ? Some years after peace was restored and Indian 262 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. depredations ceased, the frontiers were infested with a ^ang of outlaws, who engaged in the nefarious busi ness of horse-steaUng and counterfeiting, and who secreted themselves in the depths of the 'wilderness and in the caves of the mountains. It required a man of the nerve of Israel Putnam, the wolf-kUler, to beard these desperadoes in their den. In the person of Big Joe a man was found every way adequate to the task, and, accordingly, he formed a company denomi nated " Eegulators," which started out on an expe dition ^against the lawless banditti. "While engaged in this enterprise, in a desperate contest which ensued at one of their strongholds, that brave, valorous, and self-sacrificing man lost his Ufe. May we not say of him what Washington is repre sented as saying of Harvey Birch, in the Spy, a tale of the neutral ground, " He was a faithful and unrequited servant of his country ; though man did not, may God reward him for his conduct." He was, as we have said, a child of nature. He grew up in the forest, among wild beasts and savage men, and to him little was given beyond natural endow ments ; at least, he did not receive any of the advant ages connected with moral and intellectual culture; of him we know but little wiU be required by the Creator and Judge of all, in that day when every man shaU receive in accordance 'with his works. INBIAN CAPTIVITY. 263 CHAPTEE XI. INDIAN CAPTIVITY. In the year 1791 there lived, on the east side of the AUeghany Eiver, about two miles above Pittsburgh, two brothers, the elder of whom was married, who had settled on a small piece of ground and had opened a farm. One day, while the younger was engaged at work in the field about a quarter of a mile from the cabin, an Indian approached him, aud, deUberately taking his ax out of his hand, and plac ing it alongside of his rifie on his shoulder, he took him by the hand, and, pointing out the direction he wished him to go, began to urge him forward. The youth, taking him for a peaceful Indian, and suppos ing he wished him to do some chopping for him, yielded to his directions, and started. They had not entered the woods a great distance until they arrived at the Indian's camp. Suspecting that all was not right, the young man made an effort to escape, and started to run, but he was soon overtaken by the Indian, who threw him violently upon his face, and, taking a rope which he had about his person, he tied 264 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. his hands behind his back, and, raising him from the ground, commanded him, by signs, to foUow. They had not proceeded far until they feU in -with another Indian, who spoke EngUsh, and who assured him that it would be useless for him to tiy to make his escape, and if he did so again, he would be tomahawked and his scalp taken to the Indian to'wn. Pursuing their journey through the wilderness, they at length arrived at the crossings of Big Beaver, about twenty miles from the mouth of that stream, and nearly on a direct Une between Pittsburgh and New-Philadelphia, on fhe Tuscarawas Eiver. Cross ing the river on a raft, which the Indians constructed of some branches of trees, they crept into a cave in the rock, where, -without fire or food, they remained tiU morning. They were afraid to make a fire, lest they might be discovered by the hunters ; and as they had already run a risk of being detected by the sound of the ax, in chopping branches for the raft, they were the more cautious. "When moming came the Indian who had captured the boy delivered him over to the safe-keeping of the other, charging him strictly not to let him escape. On they fraveled, weary and hungry, until toward the close of another day, when the Indian, feeUng the pressing wants of his appetite, said to his captive, after having kindled a fire, "If I thought you would not run away, 1 woidd leave you here, and go and kiU some game." INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 265 The youth, being quite as anxious as he to have something to eat, assured him that he would not leave the spot until he returned.- Fearing, however, to trust his word, he tied him to a sapling a short distance from the fire, and departed. The position was itself not only uncomfortable, but the young man was weary with travel, and faint for the want of food. He accordingly made an effort to dis engage, himself, and by patient perseverance, finally succeeded in untying the rope. He did not attempt to run away. That would have been useless, as he knew not which course to take, and might perish in the woods; besides, he would be as likely to run into the track of the Indian as to escape it. He, therefore, went to the fire, and laid do'wn by it to rest. In about an hour the Indian retumed, but without any game, and, being surprised at finding his prisoner released, asked him why he untied him self. The captive told him he was cold, and wanted to warm himself. " You no run away, then ?" " O no," said the young man; "I don't wish to run away." He then gave as a reason for his returning so soon and without game, that there were Indians close by, and he was afraid they would discover him and take him away, finding him alone. They then went to the camp of the Indians. What was the joy of the captive to find among the party some Indians who were acquainted -with him intimately, 266 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. and who had often been at his home! They ex pressed surprise, as well as joy, at seeing him, and gave him plenty of food to eat. Here they tarried all night, and next moming they aU started together for the Tuscarawas. After traveUng two days, they at length arrived late in the evening, where they met the main body of the hunters and warriors from the AUeghany, having made that point then- place of rendezvous. Among the Indians assembled, composed of different tribes, were two captives, a man and his wife, by the name of Dick. These, to the astonishment of the young man, were persons with whom he was acquainted, having been his nearest neighbors. As soon as he had an opportunity, and was allowed the privilege, he went to that part of the encampment where they were confined, and making himself kno-wn, they were allowed to have an hour's conversation together. From them the young man received intelUgence that two of their neighbors, with whom he was well acquainted, had been killed by the Indians, one in his own house, and the other near his dweUing. After remaining a few days, ten of the Indians ¦were sent to Pittsburgh, with instructions from the chiefs to feign themselves friendly, for the pui-pose of trading with the inhabitants. Among the num ber was the one who had taken the young captive. INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 267 When they returned, which they did in about two weeks, well supplied with store goods, ammunition, and whisky, the company divided, part going in one direction, and part in another. The Indian who had taken the young man into captivity, united with the party they met on their way to Tuscarawas, and .they started for Sandusky. When within about a day's journey of an Indian town, where Fort Seneca was afterward built, they met two war riors on the war path to the frontiers. With the whisky which had been suppUed them, the war riors soon became intoxicated, and one of them, out of mere recklessness or malice to the whites, fell on the youth, and beat him most unmercifully. The probability is, that he would have killed him if he had not taken advantage of the darkness of the night, and made his escape to a log in the woods, where he secreted himself till morning. Being missed, search was made for him with lights in the woods, in every direction; but he was so securely concealed his hiding-place was not found. From his position he could see what was going on in the camp ; and when morning came, and the drunken warriors started on their joumey, he came from his place of concealment, and was gladly received by the company, who expressed sympathy for him on account of the bruises he had received from the savage warrior. 268 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. "When they got in sight of the Indian town they halted, as is the Indian custom, to make preparation for a grand ent/ree. When aU things were in readi ness they commenced their march, yelUng and whooping most frightfully. The Indians, hearing the sound, came out and received them with corre sponding yells. Seeing they had a captive in the person of a stout young pale face, they commenced arranging the gauntlet lines. In this ceremony all take a part. The young man, wounded and bruised as he was, could not escape the ordeal. He was informed that he must pass through the lines, and take whatever came. As he passed, every one gave him a stroke, until finaUy he was feUed to the earth ; and, pouncing upon him, Uke bloodhounds on a prej , they would have dispatched him, had it not been for the timely interference of the athletic and powerful Captain Pipe, who subsequently bumed Colonel Crawford at the stake on the Pickaway Plains. Pipe, thro'wing aside the young man's enemies, seized him by the arm, and, bearing him almost like a child through the air, reached the end of the lines, when the ceremony ceased. Many a pale face has had his back scored with tiie blows of the gauntlet. When it was over, those who had been the most savage in infiicting stripes were the most ready in offering commiseration; he was sfrippcd,^ taken to the river near at hand, and his stripes washed and INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 269 bound up. It was not until after two months that he recovered from the beating of the drunken warrior and the stripes of the gauntlet. After remaining some time at the Seneca towns, his captor having taken a wife, concluded on another tour ; and, taking him along with them, they journeyed through the Black Swamp, toward the Maumee towns. The jour ney was painful and difficult ; but, notwithstanding his disabled condition, he kept up with the Indian and his wife until they arrived at the Auglaize Eiver. Here his captor met an Indian whom he called his brother ; and the captive being presented to him, he was, after due ceremony, adopted into his family, and received the name of the son of Big Cat. In this family every kindness was sho-wn him that savages are capable of manifesting. They taught him their religion and ceremonies. They instructed him in the use of the bow, and how to throw a tomahawk, as well as how to hunt. During the summer they remained mostly in their encampment, on the bank of the Auglaize, cultivating a field of corn consisting of seven acres; and in the winter they started out on their hunting excursions. The finest hunting grounds, in that day, lay along the Licking Eiver and Jonathan's Creek, in what is now Licking, Muskingum, Perry, and other counties ; and in the valleys of the Scioto and Hockhocking ; the former now including Franklin, Eoss, Pike, and 270 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. Scioto, and the latter Fairfield, Pickaway, Hocking, and Athens counties, aU now densely populated. and from which the wild game is mostly scared away. During his continuance with this Indian family, every attention was. paid to his wants, and he was -with the utmost care instiucted in everthing per taining to thefr reUgion. The time passed so pleas antly that he almost forgot that he was a captive, and though he occasionaUy sighed for home, his de spondency on that account would soon be dispeUed by the ever-varying excitements by which he was surrounded. Having returned with his adopted father and brothers, one day, from the hunt, they were surprised at finding the Indian town in an up roar of excitement and confusion. Eumors had reached them, that an army of white men had en tered the country, and they expected every moment to be attacked. Soon as things could be got in readi ness, the squaws and boys were removed, with the goods, to an encampment further down the Maumee, where they were to remain until after the war. The chief and his braves started for the scene of conflict, and were engaged in the battles fought witii the army of St. Clair, whose defeat we have narrat ed in a preceding chapter. Having retumed -with the spoils of war, the famiUes were removed back to the town. Among that portion which fell to Big INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 271 Cat were two. fine horses and four tents, one of which, was the splendid marquee of the general. This was pitched, and became the residence of the family. With him, also, he brought axes, guns, sol diers' uniforms, &c., and one belonging to an officer who had fallen, which would fit the captive youth, was given to him. Many prisoners had been taken, and when, some time afterward, the young man -visited the Chippewas, at their town, he saw and conversed with the young men Patton, Choate, and Stacy, who had been taken captive at the massacre at Big Bottom. He also saw young Spencer, who was taken captive at Cincinnati. The latter he found at the rapids on the Maumee. Choate obtain ed a liberation before any of his companions, and the story, aa communicated by an Indian, is one of affect ing interest. He was observed by one of his captors sitting on a log, with a downcast and melancholy look. As he approached him he said, " "What makes you look so sorry ?" " I cannot help it," he repUed. " I am thinking about my wife and children, and no one to pro-vide for them." " I," said the Indian, with a tear gUstening in his eye, as he turned away his head to conceal his emo tion, " I, too, have a squaw and children, and I would feel sorry if I was taken away from them." Saying this, he advanced, and putting his hand on 17 272 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. the prisoner's head, remarked : " You shaU not stay away from your wife and children. I wih kt you go home ; but I will not turn you out alone in the woods : I -wiU go -with you." The next morning, before the- sun's rays lighted up tiie forest, having got aU things in readiness, they started. They sfruck for the Muskingum, on the banks of which his family resided, and after having arrived on its banks, the Indian, taking Choate by tiie hand, bade him, in the name of the Great Spirit, good speed to his wife and children. Dick and his wife subsequently made their escape, and. going to ChiUicothe, they there took up their abode. Mrs. Dick's escape was effected in a singu lar manner. She was sent for by a black man, a servant of McKee and EUiott, who, finding her in the woods, took her to a boat, and she was headed up in an empty hogshead. The Indians scoured the woods for her ; came and examined every part of the boat, and tumed over the cargo, but she was nowhere to be found. The black man was also sent to effect the liberation of the young captive; but he was too closely watched to allow any opportunity of escape. In the summer of 1794 he started out with a party on a candle-light hunt, in the forks of the Auglaize. The expedition was a successful one, and after re maining two months, well laden with game and INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 273 skins, they moved for home. "What was their aston ishment, on returning to the town, to find it deserted. Supposing the inhabitants had gone to the rapids, as is customary every year, to receive presents, they encamped on the lower island, in the middle of a corn field. In the morning they were aroused from their slumbers by the loud yeU of a savage, whose war-whoop conveyed to every Indian's ear the intel ligence that the enemy was upon them. Instantly the hunting party scattered, and they had scarcely left their camp when the Kentucky rifiemen, seeing their smoke, entered it. Not being able to take any thing with them but their guns, the Kentuckians took all their game and skins. Wayne was only four miles from the Indian town, and this was the van-guard of the army. The hunters finally met at the rapids, but they had not been there more^ than two or three days, until Wayne's spies came into the camp, and fij-ed upon the Indians. Several wei-e killed, and many wounded. The Indians retumed the fire, and the spies fieeing, were pursued. One of them, by the name of May, was chased to a smooth rock in the bed of the Maumee, where his horse fell, and he was captured, while the re mainder made their escape. When he was brought into the camp, he was recognized as having been a prisoner in one of the fribes before, but had made his escape. The chiefs said to him, that tiiey 274 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. knew him, and that it would be impossible for him to escape the second time. Near the British fort, at the edge of the clearing, was a large oak tree. Taking the prisoner, they bound him to this tree. He was adjudged to be shot, and, a company of Indians being called out as his executioners, a volley was fired, and his body was pierced by every shot from the deadly rifle. The battle which ensued at this time, between the Indians and Wayne's army, resulted in a treaty of peace, and a consequent cessation of hostiUties. Big Cat took his family to Fort Defiance, and, halt ing a short distance this side, he took his captive over with him, and, placing him in the midst of the officers, he said : " My son, there are men of the same color as yourself. There may be some of your kin there, or your kin may be a great way off from you. You have Uved a long time with us. I call on you to say, if I have not been a father to you ; if I have not used you as a father would his son ?" The young man, who had been five years in the family, and who was much attached to the chief and his children, all of whom wept at his leaving, could but reply, " Yes, you have been as 1rind to me as a father could be." " I am glad," said Big Oat, " to hear you say so. You have Uved long -with me ; you have hunted for INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 275 me; but our treaty says you must be free. If you choose to go -with the people of your own color, I have no right to say a word; but if you choose to stay with me, your people have no right to speak. Now refiect on it, and take your choice, and, when you have made up your mind, teU me." The young man was now grown. Thoughts of home and friends came rushing upon him, mingUng with the affection he had for his Indian father, and the children he left crying after him at the camp. Much, however, as he had become attached to the Indians and a hunter's Ufe, in the then wilds of Ohio, and its ever-varying and exciting scenes, the ties of kindred and the influence of early associa tions prevailed, and he replied at length, with tremulous emotion, " I wiU go with my kin." The chief replied, "I have raised you; I have taught you to hunt — you are a good hunter — you have been better to me than my own sons; I am now getting old, and soon will not be able to hunt any more. I thought you would be a sup port to my age — a staff- on which I might lean ; but now that staff is broken. You are going to leave me, and I have no right to say one word; but I am ruined," and, sinking into his seat, he gave vent to his feelings in a flood of tears. The young man, too, was overcome with emotion, and bent over his Indian father -with grief. But he had fully resolved 276 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. to return to the abodes of the white man; and, taking the old chief's hand, he bade him fareweU, and left the fort, never to look upon that kind- hearted, honest face again. Having been furnished with a horse, he started for Fort Green-Tille, in company -with Lieutenant Blue, who treated him kindly, and had a suit of clothes made for him to exchange for his Indian dress. Except in his color, and that was dark, his face and hands being much bronzed by exposure to the wind and sun, he was in every other respect an Indian, being now able to speak the Delaware language as weU as his mother tongue. After remaining at the fort about one week, a company of men arrived from Cincinnati, among whom was a brother-in-law of his brother, with whom he lived, and from whose field he was taken. From him he leamed about home, and was also informed that he had a sister who had married since his captivity, and was then living about nine miles. from Cincinnati, on the banks of the Licking, in Kentucky. This to him was joyful inteUigence, and he soon started for her residence, where he was received as one raised from the dead. Being fond of hunting, he went out to hunt for the neighbors, receiving, for every deer he killed, a dollar, and for each turkey twelve and a half pence. In this he was quite successful, and made a considerable INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 277 sum. Having made enough to purchase a horse and an outfit for tiavel, he started to his brother's in Pennsylvania. So great had been the change •wrought in his appearance during his absence, that he was not kno-wn ; but when the brother and his wife became satisfied -that he was their lost brother, they were overjoyed. After remaining some time with his brother, he retumed to Ohio, and settled on the Scioto, within the hunting grounds he traversed when in captivity, on a spot where the city of Columbus, the capital of the State of Ohio, now stands, and where he lives to this day. In this connection we will relate another remark able captivity, which occurred at about the same time. A young man, residing in New-Jereey, who had reached his majority, started out to the Western wilds to seek his fortune. Having crossed that great barrier in those days, the Alleghany Mountains, he reached the banks of the Ohio, in Western Yirginia, where he engaged in farming in the summer time, and teaching school in the vrinter. In many sections of the West, even to this day, all the schooUng the children get, is what can be obtained during three months in the winter season, from an itinerant schoolmaster, whose highest attainments are com prised in a knowledge of reading, -wi-iting, and ciphering to the single rule of three ; and should any boy or girl be fortunate enough to fathom 278 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. the mysteries of the latter branch to that extent, they are looked upon as prodigies in "larnin'." Times, however, have wonderfully changed in this respect. Our young aspirant for wealth and Uterary dis tinction was not a whit, however, behind his illustrious compeers in " teaching the young idea how to shoot." We have said part of his time was engaged in farm ing, and three months in school-teaching; but this did not consume the whole time, nor did it exhaust the capabiUties of the young man. He spent about fom- months of the year as a ranger, at the Mingo to-wn, about twenty miles above Wheeling. After being engaged in farming, school-teaching, and ranging among the Indians in the wilds, he con cluded to penetrate further into the West. Accord ingly, embarking on a flaf>-boat, he started do-wn the Ohio, in company with a fleet of others, number ing, in all, nineteen. It was necessary then, as a protection from the Indians, that boats should go in company. It was in the spring of the year ; and, as the river was high, the passage was quickly made from "WheeUng to Limestone, now Maysville, where they landed. Having reached his journey's end, our schoolmaster again opened a school, and commenced teaching the children of the pioneer settlers in the rudiments of an EngUsh education. While here, he became acquainted with Nathaniel Massie, the pio neer surveyor, and founder of the town of Manches- INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 279 ter, on the Ohio Eiver. Massie was desirous of hav ing him go over to his fort, in the then Northwestern Territory ; and being pleased with the man, as weU as desirous of cultivating an acquaintance -with the art of surveying, he complied with his request. Accord ingly, the foUowing spring, he took up his residence in Massie's fort. A gentleman having arrived from Kentucky, who was desirous of entering some land, Mr. Massie requested the schoolmaster to accompany him, and assist in laying it out. In the fort was a young man by the name of WilUam Lytle, who had some knowledge of surveying, and they all started together. They took passage up the river in a canoe, for about four miles, when they entered the mouth of a creek now bearing the name of the School master. Here they landed; and, making a point, Lytle and the schoolmaster carrying the chain, Massie proceeded to survey and lay off the grounds. After proceeding about one hundred and flfty poles, they came to a large mound, which attracted their attention. While pointing out to the purchaser the eUgibility of the site for a dwelUng, they were startled by the approach of a party of Indians. Instantiy dropping the compass and chain, they started at full speed, the Indians after them in hot pursuit. Arriving at a deep ravine, all cleared it but the schoolmaster, whose foot becoming entangled in a vine, as he was about making the spring, he fell near 280 PIONEJERS OF THE WEST. the opposite bank. Three warriors were immediately by his side, and, before he had risen, presented thefr guns to his breast, as though they would shoot him on the spot ; but, before they fired, their atten tion was diverted by Lytie's hat, which came whiz zing back, he being but a short distance in advance, and having thrown it to prevent their fire. Seeing the prisoner made no resistance, they brought down their guns, and one of them offered him his hand, to assist him in rising. The Indians then took their captive to the bank of the river, and gathering up their plunder, and bidding him foUow, they departed. After traveling the remainder of the day, they en camped at night on the waters of Eagle Creek. The next morning they took an early start in the rain. As they journeyed on, they had several runs and branches to cross, some of which were quite high and dangerous. A taU, athletic Indian, seeing the prisoner was fearful about crossing, would put his arm in his, and assist him in getting over. On Sunday moming, the Indians, having kiUed two bears, and jerked the meat, put it up in a rude box which they constructed, and placed it on the prisoner's back. It weighed about fifty pounds; and, after carrying it for some time, imtil he was exhausted and his back gaUed, he threw it do-wn. At this they raised a great laugh among themselves. After thefr merriment subsided they examined his back, and finding it chafed spC INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 281 sore, they appUed some bear's oil, and, replacing the burden, journeyed on. He did not fravel far until he threw it do-wn a second time ; and the strong, friendly Indian, throwing it upon his o-wn back, they pursued their way. Thus they continued in Indian file, the prisoner in the center, until they arrived at the Shawnee camp, where they halted. Here they made an Indian of their prisoner, by pulUng out all his hair except a tuft on the top, which was inclosed in a band, and decorated with turkey feathers. Next they bored a hole tiirough his nose, and inserted a ring. The camp was large, and quite a number of warriors had collected there. One day an Indian spy came, and informed them of the desfruction of a large party of Indians on the Ohio. The intelligence alarmed them, and the horses were caught up, amounting to a hundred, and packed 'eady for a departure. Early next moming they were on their march; and before Kenton arrived, with his ninety men, who were in pursuit, they were far on their journey. In the evening they encamped on the edge of a prairie. After taking supper on roasted undressed raccoon, they retired to rest. The prisoner was tied, and placed between two warriors, each one lying on the ends of the rope which secured him. When all was stiU, and sleep had closed the senses of the wai-riors, the prisoner commenced trying to effect his escape. The rope was made of bark, and 282 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. he began to gnaw it -with his teeth. Thus he contin ued until near daybreak, when at length he succeeded in accomplishing his object. CrawUng off on his hands and feet, he succeeded in getting to a log near the prairie, where he sat down for the purpose of putting on his moccasins. One was on; but while in the act of putting on the other, he was missed, and the alarm raised. Instead of entering the prai rie, they took the back track through the woods, supposing, of course, he had gone in that direction. Soon as he heard the yeU, he started, and crossing a portion of the prairie, he entered the woods, taking the poorest ridges, and, when coming to logs, running along them, and crossing from one to another, to blind his track. Thus he continued until ten o'clock, when, ascending a ridge, weary and faint, he crept in be tween two logs, and soon fell asleep. His slumber was so profound that he did not wake until the sun was going do-wn. Where he was, he knew not; nor how far from or near to his savage foes. Springing to his feet, he traveled on until he found a hollow tree, into which he crept, and slept until moming. Much refreshed, though with bUstered feet, and hun gry, he continued his journey, until, after several days' travel, during which time all he had to eat was a couple of turkey's eggs, he reached the Miami Eiver. He foUowed this stream down until he struck Harmar's trace, made the previous fall. Seeing a INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 283 horse, he caught him, and putting on him a bark bridle, he mounted him, but it was only to be thro-wn by the wild animal. Not disheartened, he caught Mm, and sprang upon his back again, but again he was thro-wn, more violently than before, and lay for some time insensible. After recovering, he resumed his journey. His feet had become entirely bare, and being exposed to briars and thorns, were much swoll en, and so sore that he could scarcely walk. He felt that it would be impossible for him to proceed much further, and he began to resign himself to his fate. He knew not how far he was from the Ohio Eiver, and there were no settlements between him and that point. The horrible idea of starvation at last came upon him, and in gloomy despair he laid himself down at the root of a tree to die. Scarcely had his head touched the mossy root, ere he fell into a slumber. It was not, however, a pro found sleep, for he dreamed; and as dreams usuaUy indicate the mind's anxieties, so he imagined himself, like the pilgrim in Bunyan's "Progress," asleep on enchanted ground. In his dream he was admonished by some kind one to wake and pursue his journey; for he was not far from the city of deliverance, and by perseverance he would reach it before night. He awoke, and feeling that new life was infused into him by the hope the dream inspfred, he hastened on. But his physical energies could not keep pace with his 284 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. excited imagination, and, after tiaveUng a short dis tance, he sank to the earth, exhausted. A darkness came over him, and he felt that his hour was come. He dreamed again, and again he was urged to pro ceed, being assured that before the setting sun he would see the river and find deUverance. Eousing from his lethargy, he summoned all his remaining energy, and moved onward. He had not proceeded far until he ascended an elevated but broken plain; and he thought he could discover, in the distance, an opening in the forest. This inspired him -with fresh courage, and he hastened his steps. He was now de scending the side of the river hill, and ere he had got half way down, he heard the sound of an ax, the well- known harbinger of ci-sdUzation. The sound was sweet to his ears, as the harps of the blessed to the pilgrim when he crossed the river. He had reached the suburbs of Fort Washington, and proceeding cau tiously, for fear of alarming the chopper, looking, as he did, Uke an Indian, he succeeded in getting within speaking distance, and haUed him. The back woodsman, Mr. WiUiam Woodward, subsequently founder of the Woodward High School, on seeing a savage-looking person before him, exclaimed, " In tiie name of God, who are you?" The schoolmaster replied, " I have been a prisoner, and have escaped from the Indians." At this Woodward in-dted him to approach, and. INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 285 seeing his helpless, condition, caught a horse, and helping him on its back, he led it, -with its rider, to his house which was some distance from the lot in which he was clearing. The settlers, surprised at the singular appearance of the white Indian on horse back, began to gather, and before Woodward reached his dwelling quite a number had coUected. It was difficult to convince many of them that he was not a spy. Every attention and kindness was shown him by his host. Clothes were procured for him, and, as far as possible, he was restored to the appearance of a white man. General Harmar, having heard of his arrival, sent a messenger after him to bring him to the fort. When he arrived, a large number of people were coUected to look upon the stranger. The gen eral, not being without suspicions that he was a spy, was on the point of placing him in custody ; but he was at length permitted to leave without imprison ment. Having recovered his stiength, he entered, as a clerk, the store of Strong & Bartle, gentlemen for whom he had previously transacted some business. The store stood near the river, a little above the inter section of Main and Front streets. "While here he met an acquaintance from North Bend, and he was prevailed upon to go home with him, which he did. Having been a captive among the Indians, he was an object of much curiosity among the people. Find ing, however, that he was regarded by some as a 286 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. spy, notwithstanding his o'wn declarations to the con trary, as weU as those who were personaUy acquainted 'with him, he thought it best, for the peace of the community, at least, if not his own safety, to leave. A contractor's boat coming up the river about this time, he secured a passage, and arrived, in due course of time, at Mays-viUe, where he was received with every demonstration of joy, particularly by the young people who had been members of his school. After remaining here some time he went to Manchester, where, if living, the pioneer schoolmaster may be found at this day. We must not omit, in this chapter, the adventures of the pioneer Kenton, whose name we have infro- duced elsewhere. A young farmer, at the age of sixteen he pushed out from home, and braved the ¦wilderness of the mountains and the deep forests of the West. From a trader he heard of the famous Kain-tuck-ee, and he resolved to seek his fortune on its verdant plains. We propose not to sketch his life of romance in this chapter, but shall give the reader an account of his capti'vity. On a certain occasion he was caUed upon to take ¦with him two young men, and go on an expedition to ChilUcothe, an Indian town on the Miami. The design of the expedition was to ascertain the condi tion of the Indians, in view of an attack which was contemplated by Colonel Bowman. Having reached INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 287 the town, they marched around the houses and camps during the night unperceived. After ascertaining the condition of the warriors and their preparation for war, they started on thefr homeward joumey. Finding, however, in their path, near the to^wn, a number of fine horses, belonging to the Indians, they concluded on effecting a stampede. Each mounting a horse, they tried to get the rest to follow. Being intractable and having some difficulty, they were discovered, and a 'wild yell ran through the town that the "Long Knives" were stealing their horses. They had haltered aU the horses, and started with all their speed through the woods, They had not proceeded far until they came to a large swamp, which it was impossible to pass 'without being mired. Finding that there was no way of crossing, they changed their course, as nearly as they could calculate, for the Ohio Eiver. They rode all night without stopping, and only halted a few minutes at daylight. Through aU the day they pursued their journey and through the succeeding night. Such was the rapidity with which they fraveled, that when morning came tiiey found themselves on the banks of the Ohio. Were they only on the southem shore they would be out of reach, or, at least, safe from tiieir pursuers ; but there was no ferry, and the river was extiemely rough from the high 'winds which were prevaiUng at that time. Holding a council in regard to what should be 18 288 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. done, it was finally resolved that Kenton should cross with the horses, ¦ while the remaining two should constiuct a raft for taking over the guns and bag gage. Kenton accordingly, after forcing the horses into the stieam, plunged in and swam by their side ; but the waves rolled so high, and the current was so rapid, he was soon can-ied down below the ' horses, who were much more able to breast the tide. Being thus left to themselves, they tumed and swam back to the Ohio side. Kenton also retumed, and after resting a Uttle, he drove them in again, and plunged after them, but the same result fol lowed. What was to be done? It was perfectly certain that the horses wouM not cross the river, at least while it was so boisterous. The question was, whether they should cross without them, or wait until the 'wind should faU and calm the river. The latter they adopted. The day passed ; but the wind, instead of luUing, seemed to have increased in -do- lence, and so continued until moming. The river ha^ving become somewhat calm, they endeavored again to force the horses into it, but they obstinately refused to try the waves again, and every effort to get them into the stream proved unavailing. Knowing that the Indians would soon be upon them, no further time could be lost in such fruitless efforts, and, each one mounting his horse, tiiey started down the river in the dfrection of LouisviUe. INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 289 UnwiUing, however, to leave the horses, which had started back on the trail toward home, they started after them, Kenton in the center, and the young men on each side. They had not progressed far when they heard, about two hundred yards behind them, the yell of the savage. Instead of instantly putting his horse to his speed, and fleeing away through the woods, Kenton deliberately dismounted, and, leading his horse, he went back to meet the Indians. Soon three of them made thefr appear ance, in company with a white man. Eaising his rifle to his shoulder, he took deUberate aim at the foremost Indian, but the powder flashed in the pan. At this the enemy rushed upon him, and he took to the woods on foot, pursued by the Indians on fleet horses. He was a fleet runner, and, as the forest was dense, and much faUen timber obsfructed the way of the horsemen, he was soon out of reach of his pursuers. But just as he was coming out into an open space, he was met by an Indian on horseback, who had taken a cfrcuit for the purpose of heading him. The Indian rode up to him at fuU gallop, extending his hand, and in affectionate tones of broken EngUsh, said, " Brother ! brother !" Ken ton shouted that he would surrender, if they would give him quarter and good freatment. This the Indian promised, and seizing him violently by the hand, Kenton raised his gun to strike him, when 290 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. an Indian from the wood sprang upon him. By this time all had arrived, and, after tying the arms of their prisoner, the one who flrst advanced ¦with the words of kindness, seized him by the hair, and shook him till his teeth rattled. The rest fell on him ¦with ramrods, and beat him most unmercifuUy. At every stroke on his back and over his head they would exclaim, "Steal Indian hoss! hey?" One of Kenton's companions came to his assistance, but the other made his escape. As soon as the Indians perceived him they gave chase. Mont gomery wheeled and fired, but the Indian's aim was more certain, and he feU dead in the woods. The only thing that ever Kenton saw of him afterward was his bloody scalp, which they exhibited to him on thefr retum. They then prepared to torture their prisoner. Causing him to Ue do^wn on his back, they stretch ed out his arms at full length. Taking a sfrong Stick, they laid it across his breast, and tied his wrists to each extremity with thongs made of buf falo hides. Stakes were then driven into the earth near his feet, and they were both tied in a similar manner. A halter was then tied around his neck, and tiie opposite end fastened to a sapUng near by. Then they drew a strong rope under him, and encir cling his body, fastened it to the stick across his breast and -winding the ends around his arms, tied INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 291 them at the 'wrists. By this means his arms were tightly pinioned, and thus he was literaUy bound hand and foot. During the operation, they exhaust ed the vocabulary of English oaths, which they had learned from hunters and traders. In this position he remained all night, his Umbs paining him very much. In the moming he was mounted upon one of the 'wildest colts he had stolen, and his feet fastened by cords under the horse. When aU was in readiness, the restive animal never having been backed before, started off -with his Ma- zeppa at a furious bound. Kenton managed to keep upon his back, and after several ineffectual rears and pitches to throw his rider, the horse became quiet, and followed on in company. When night came he was taken from the horse, and pinioned to the earth as before. On the third day the party arrived in the vicinity of Chillicothe, where they halted, and dispatched a messenger to inform the to'wn of their arrival, that they might be prepared for the recep tion of the captive. In a short time the chief Black Fish came out, and, addressing Kenton, said, in good English, " You have been steaUng our horses, have you ?" " Yes, sir," responded Kenton. " Did Captain Boone teU you to steal our horses ?" " No, sir ; I did it of my own free wiU and ac cord." 292 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. The frank confession had too much of a tantaUzing tone in it, and the chief, approaching him, dealt sev eral violent blows with a hickory, across his bare back, which caused the blood to fiow freely. When they approached the town, every man, woman, and child, came out to see the prisoner. AU seemed to be enraged, and with simultaneous cries, they shout ed, " To the stake ! to the stake !" He was soon taken from the horse, a stake was procured, and driven into the ground. His remaining apparel was tom from him, his hands were tied above his head to the stake, and his body lashed securely by ropes to the fatal wood. After this, the whole company danced around him until midnight, making the gloom more hideous by their savage yeUs. Dry fag ots were placed around him, and all that was neces sary to complete the execution was, the command of the chief to apply the torch. Thus he remained in dreadful suspense and suffering all night. In the morn ing he was untied, and taken to the to'wn. No sooner, however, did he arrive, than he was ordered to pre pare to run the gauntlet. It consisted of two rows of men, women, and boys, reaching a quarter of a mile in length. At the starting place stood two grim, stalwart warriors -with butcher knives in their hands. At the extiemity of the Une, an Indian was stationed to beat the drum, a few paces beyond which was the council-house. Along the whole Unes, clubs. INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 293 switches, hoe-handles, tomahawks, and butcher-knives, were brandished in frightful array. At length the roll of the drum announced the period of starting ; and the daring hunter sprang into the lines, and breaking through ere he had received many blows, he started on a turn, and darting again in the midst of them, he distanced his pursuers in the direction of the council-house, which he reached ¦without having received any injury. Immediately after the race a council was held, as to whether he should be burned at the stake, or carried round as a captive among the tribes. The council sat on the ground fioor of the council-house, and the war-club was passed, those in favor of buming striking it violently upon the earth, and those in favor of retaining him as a captive passing it in silence to the next ; tbe latter vote prevailed, and it was resolved that he should be taken to an Indian town on the Wabash. They accordingly started; and Kenton, being suffered to walk untied, passed along in suUen silence, meditating an escape, should opportunity offer. As they journeyed on, he was startled by a loud yell, and the distant roll of a drum. They were nearing the town, and before his excited imagi nation rose the gauntlet and the stake. Instantly he darted into the thick undergrowth, and distanced the swiftest pursuers ; but it was only to faU into the hands of a party of Indian horsemen, who intercepted his 294 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. path. He was caught and tied, and led into the to'wn of Pickaway. For this second offense aU hope of escaping with his Ufe was gone. A council was held ; the war-club passed, and his fate was sealed. While sitting in the council-house hearing his doom, Girty, a white man who had forsworn his race, and was bloodthirsty as the Indians, came in, and recog nizing him as a companion spy in Dunmore's war, interceded in his behalf with so much perseverance and eloquence that he was saved. Girty treated him ¦with the utmost kindness, and took him out ¦with him in his hunts. But the chiefs were not satisfied ; and another council was held, from whose decision it was impossible for Gfrty, 'with aU his infiuence and skiU, to effect the escape of his friend* A halter was placed around his neck, and he was marched off to the place selected for his execution. On the way the celebrated Mingo chief, Logan, came up to him, and, taking him aside, said, " WeU, young man ; these young men seem very angry at you." "Yes," said Kenton, "they are." " Well, don't be disheartened; I am a great chief. You are to go to Sandusky; they talk of buming you there ; but I will send two runners to speak good for you there." According to promise, Logan sent his men, but aU the infiuence he could bring to bear proved of no INDIAN CAPTIVITY. 296 avail ; and Logan, the kind-hearted, had to yield him up to his fate. When they reached Sandusky, and all things had been got in readiness for the execu tion, a Frenchman, an officer, stepped forward, and asked for the release of the prisoner, as he wished to take him to Detroit, to serve in an important expedition among the enemy. After much entieaty he was given up, and they finally arrived at Detroit, where much kindness was shown him. While here, Kenton found two young men who had been taken prisoners with Boone at the Blue Licks ; and, being anxious. to return to his much-loved Kentucky, he opened up his mind to them about attempting his escape. To be sure, the distance was nearly three hundred miles, through a wilderness infested by Indians, and the chances were aU against them. At length they succeeded in procuring guns and ammunition, which they secreted in the woods; and off they started. They only traveled during the night season; and, after a weary journey of thirty nights, they arrived at Louisville, on the Ohio, about forty miles be]pw the spot from whence Kenton was taken by the Indians. He subsequently served in Wayne's army, and shared in the decisive victory achieved ; and spent the remnant of his days on Mad Eiver, near the scene of his former adventures. 296 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. CHAPTEE xn. "THE OLD CHIEF;" OR, THE INDIAN MISSIONARY. Half a century ago, in the then far-off wilds of Ohio . embraced within the limits of the Northwestern Territory, which extended from the hither shore of the Northern lakes to the Ohio Eiver on tbe south, and from the AUeghanies on the east to the distant Father of Waters on the west, there dwelt, in his log- cabin in the woods, a man who had grown up from childhood amid the stirring scenes of backwoods Ufe. His father was of the old Puritan stock, and, reared in New-England, had been early sent to Princeton, with a view of training him for a minister. Having passed through his curriculum, and received clerical orders, he entered upon the work of the ministry*, Prompted by zeal, as well as that adventurous spirit which ever characterizes the Yankee, and m-ges him out to new, distant, and often hazardous enterprises, whether as a merchant, or tradesman, or minister of the Gospel, to settle in Hong-Kong, Calcutta, Cape Town, Buenos Ayres, or Australia, for the purpose of driving his business ; or, as in the persons of Marsh- "THE OLD CHIEF." 299 man or Judson, Mills or Bingham, to plant the stand ard of the cross and caU the dying heathen to repent ance ; so our preacher was fired with a zeal to strike his tent and pitch it in the Western -wUdemess among the wandering savages and the ¦widely-scattered desti tute population which had been the first to cut a path through the unbroken wilds, and, leveUng the forest, let in, for the first time, the genial sun to kiss the -vir gin earth. His passage across the mountains and his descent of the Ohio, attended, as they were, with many thrilUng incidents and hair-breadth escapes from the ever-vigilant savage, who resisted every encroachment of the white man upon his territory, and contended for every inch of the ground, we shall pass over, and follow him as he makes a landing, and penetrates the cane-brakes of Kentucky. Here he gathered around him a little flock, organized a Church, and administered the word of life and tho ordinances of reUgion. Again and again was the peaceful quiet of the scattered settlement where he resided disturbed by the depredations of the Indians. But he could flght as well as watch and pray, and often, with his trusty rifle, has he salUed forth in company with his parishioners to avenge the wrongs inflicted by the red man. The flrst academy of leai-ning ever established in the West was opened by this stem and sturdy pioneer, and there, on its puncheon floor, and beside its wooden 300 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. chimney and paper -windows, and under its clap board roof, many a young man was trained in the Georgics and BucoUcs of Yirgil, the Odes of Anac- reon, and the Biad of Homer. In those vast cane- brakes, where, but a few years before, roamed, unmo lested and free, the elk, the buffalo, and the Indian, and naught was heard but the cry of wUd beasts and the yell of the savage, now was to be heard the voice of praise in the temple of God, and the voice of classic song in the academic grove. Toung men were there frained who, in after Ufe, figured largely and usefuUy in Church and state, and confributed much to build up the institutions of the mighty West. But few, at this day, know how far the present condition and prosperity of the West, with its Uberal and enUghtened govemment, wholesome laws, politi cal, Uterary, and reUgious institutions, are directly traceable to the indomitable energy, zeal, and perse verance of that class of pioneers about whom we are ¦writing. As our countiy owes its birth and great ness, and rapidly-increasing and augmenting pros perity, to the Puritans, whose iron wiU and unfaiUng courage prompted them to brave the dangers of a wintery ocean, in a frail and feeble bark, and seek a home in this new world, so are the Western States, which now spread over the Mississippi valley, in debted, for their existence and prosperity, to the "THE OLD CHIEF." 301 descendants of that noble band. But they have passed away ; only here and there can one be found ; yet they remain as the solitary oak of the clearing, to proclaim the ancient glory ofthe forest which once stood in grandeur, unscathed by the hand of time. It is well to reflect upon the past, and gather up its reminiscences ere they pass away from the memory of man. Be it ours briefly to sketch the Ufe of one of these ; and if our readers shall not find it a story of more romantic interest than ever occupied a page of fiction, it will not be for want of startUng, veritable facts, but for want of power in the writer so to classify and present them that they shall be exhibited in such a light as to awaken the interest of which they are in the largest sense susceptible. We have afready informed the reader that the subject of our sketch was a son of the preacher and schoolmaster of the frontier. The son, partaking of the nature and disposition of the sire, was unwilling to be hemmed in by the settlements ; and Uke Daniel Boone, who, when he heard a man had built a cabin within fifty miles of his own rude hut, would instantly remove to a less crowded locaUty, so he resolved to travel further into the -wildemess. He had taken for himself a wife, a hardy backwoods girl, who was ready for any adventure and peril her young and daring husband might see proper to undertake or brave. So, without even a horse, or farming utensils, 302 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. save an ax and a hoe, and for domestic purposes a camp kettle and a rifie, they started out on foot from Chillicothe, to seek a home in the highlands of cenfral Ohio. Arriving at the place selected, the first thing was to cut down timber and erect a camp, a dweUing smaller and less imposing than a log-cabin. Within this, stakes were driven into the ground at proper distances, and a small platform erected and covered with leaves for a bed. The only dependence for food was upon the rifie; and as the woods abounded in game, they did not suffer, as bear-meat, venison, and turkey graced their humble board. True, they had neither salt nor bread ; but these were mere luxuries, with which they could dispense, as they ate to Uve, and did not, Uke most of the present day, Uve only for the purpose of eating. Indeed, it would be weU for the health and happiness, long life and usefulness, of many, if they were shut up by necessity to this primitive mode of Ufe. Fond as he was of backwoods life, with him it was one continued scene of the most exhilarating enjoy ment. When the morning sun tinged the tree-tops, and illumined the foUage with its golden blaze, he was out with his gun in quest of game for breakfast; or, if suppUed, he was busily engaged with his hoe, which answered the place of a horse and plow in pre paring a smaU piece of land, which he had cleared, for a crop of com. Though he had received a relig- "THE OLD CHIEF." 303 ions training, and had been educated in his father's academy, and could scan Yirgil and Homer, and had been for years engaged in stiidying medicine, yet he was wild as the woods in which he Uved, and reckless as the Indian,- who dared not meet him in mortal combat. To a Herculean frame was united a fleetness of foot that made him at home the greatest flgbter, ¦wrestler, and runner, that could be found at a "rais ing," "log-rolUng," "corn-husking," or "quilting." Many a white man and Indian have felt the power of his arm, and few were wilUng to enter the lists with him in any of the backwoods games we have enu merated, which, although not so classical, in their "knock-down and drag-out" character, as the Olympic or Isthmian, nevertheless required equally great skill, strength, and courage. What pigmies are the present race, compared with that which leveled the forests of the West! We fear that gymnastics and calisthenics ¦will not save us from a physical deterioration, at least, unless we shall change our habits and modes of life. We talk much of the Anglo-Saxon, and are wont to boast of the mental energy and physical courage which characterize him, as well as the Anglo-Amer ican; and we speak of his conquests as if the subju gation of the world was the "manifest destiny" he had to work out; but we must remember that the iron constitution of the proud Eoman was eventually undermined and finally gave way to the enervating 304 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. infiuences of habits which induced effeminacy. Eome conquered the world, carrying her victorious arms to every land, and planting her eagle standard on every shore; but uncultivated Scandinavian hordes came upon her in an e-vil hour, and, Uke Samson, shorn of her strength by the soft, be-witching arts of the beautiful DeUlah, she fell a victim to her softness of manners. While our pioneer fathers could fravel barefooted in the snow all day, or, at most, -with bark sandals to protect them, and camp out all night without food, and often without fire, subsisting for days upon coons and wild cats, without salt or bread, and peeUng bark with their teeth, it was not likely they would produce children of dyspeptic habits and stunted growth. It is not probable that their sons would go shivering from block to block through our crowded thoroughfares, -with pale faces, under a load of over-garments, and wrapped up in shawls and furs; or that their daugh ters would need raioge to bring the color to their cheeks, and a Uttle com de vie to give elasticity to the step and brightness to the eye. Nay, the sons could chop throughout a winter's day -without the smeU of fire, and the daughters could pile brush and roll logs, and at night, -with pine knot torches, they could fravel miles to a husking, or quilting, or danc ing froUc. Such were the exercises and sports of om young backwoodsman. "THE OLD CHIEF." 305 But scarcely had the second ¦winter passed in which he had exchanged his Indian camp for a log- eabin, and stored its loft with the yeUow corn which he had reared with his hoe in the plum bottom, than an incident occui-red, whicli at once swept from him all his earthly hopes. He had, unwittingly, gone security for one of his neighbors, and judg ment being rendered against him, in default of the principal to pay, his cabin and land were sold by the sheriff to satisfy said judgment, and he and his wife turned out homeless. "NU desfe/rcmd/wm" which having cut with his hunting-knife deep in the bark of a beech-tree, he took his wife to a friend's, and shouldered his rifle, determined to take a winter's hunt, and see if he could not retrieve his faUen fortunes. With a firm resolution to do his utmost, he penetrated deep into the wilderness, hunting all day, and camping by night at the root of some tree, whose branches made the only cover ing that protected him. Fear, he had none, for he had grappled with bears and wolves, as well as with savage white and red men. So perfectly daring, if not reckless, had he become, that his feats at elec tions and shooting-matches secured for him the sobriquet ofthe '¦'¦New Mcn'Tcet Demi." His winter's hunt was crowned with success, and his venison and skins of different kinds brought him as much in market as he had lost by becoming surety for 19 306 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. another, and again he retumed to the cultivation of the soil. Many were the deep, tumultuous uphea-vings of his soul, whUe free from the excitement of the chase, when solitude and darkness were around him. He feared not man, nor the wild beasts that prowled around him; but, wicked as he was, he feared God. Well could he say he had -wronged no man, he had robbed no man; but his catechism had taught him, that it was not all of man's duty to do justly, that the " chief end of every being was to glorify God and enjoy him forever." Often would he gaze up into the heavens when the mid night storm was careering in majesty, and the forest roared like the surges of the sea in its rocky caves ; and the refiection that he had not devoted himself to the service of his God would come with power to his enUghtened conscience, and make him tremble. " As CQ-ward guilt and pallid fear To sheltering caverns fly, And justly dread the vengeful fate That thunders 'long the sky," so would he fain have hidden himself from the Almighty ; but his awful presence was felt in the deep soUtude of the desert as none can feel it, hemmed in by the works of man. We need not say that he was educated in the faith which, accord "THE OLD CHIEF." 307 ing to the venerable Saybrook platform, makes God a Sovereign, and refers to his will solely the destiny of man, electing some to everlasting life, and passing by others to be left to the doom that awaits their guilty state. On one occasion his thoughts became so intense upon this subject, that, comparing his ungracious state with the doctrine of election, he came to the conclusion that he was a reprobate, and a dark and fearful doom awaited him. Nothing preys upon the mind of man more intensely than his relations to God and eternity. Only let the subject once fairly pervade it, and there is no power so potent to control and guide it as the possession of such a faith. Let the conviction seize the soul of a man that he is doomed, and that no provision iu the scheme of mercy can reach his case, and all the arguments of men and angels cannot chase from his mind the sullen despair which settles down, shade after shade, in blackness upon his forlorn spirit. How many have been driven to madness and death, or to the lunatic asylum, by the deep, insupportable agony which has been induced by allo'wing their minds to take a wrong tum in this matter, or whose reUgious instructions have been such as to produce a result of this description. Of all the forms of mania, this is the worst, and the most to be dreaded, because its tendency is almost invariably to suicide. Whatever may be the pur- 308 PIONEERS OF THE -WEST. poses of God in the ultimate destiny of any man, these purposes cannot be known to mortals; and those who have the care of souls should be careful to reveal the Almighty in those forms in which he has the most clearly manifested himself. The clergy will forgive me for these suggestions, as a vast amount of mental misery, without working any ulti mate evil, may be avoided by attention thereto. Added to the instructions the backwoods hunter had received was a volume of sermons, which dwelt altogether upon the somber side of reUgion, and were as full of wrath as Milton's lake of fire was full of fiends. A gloomy dyspeptic, or one who has the moral deii/r-lum 1/remens, should neither be allowed to write songs nor sermons for the pubUc mind. They may engage in such exercise for their o'wn amuse ment and profit, as in that case they will hurt none but themselves ; but to strike the public mind 'with the horrid forms in which their distempered imaginations see God, and his plans of grace and providence, is what, if tolerated, should not, to say the least, be encouraged. Filled with such terrific images of 'wrath, it was no wonder that even the strong, educated mind of the subject of our sketch should sink into despair. That dreadful crisis he reached, and away in the deep, awful silence of the forest, with his rifle loaded, and his foot raised to bring down the ham- "THE OLD CHIEF." .309 mer, he meditated the frightful deed. Like many others, who have "fled to iUs they know not of," rather than bear their present agony, he would have "passed the bourn from whence no traveler retums," but for some mysterious, unaccountable change of mind, which, like a flash from out a deep- pervading gloom, startled his soul, and he instantly flred off his rifle and retumed to his camp. He was saved — saved from a melancholy death — saved to a long life of usefulness, for it was not many days until the peace and joy of heaven broke into his soul, Uke the light of moming, carrying the most clear and convincing demonstration, that Ood was love. It was a wonderful conversion, and most wonderful were its results. Without waiting for Presbytery or Conference to give him a commission to preach the Gospel, he started out under an impulse he had never felt before, and from cabin to cabin, far and near, he told the wondering neighbors what God had done for his soul. It was only occasionaUy that some wandering preacher would visit the neighborhood, and hold forth the word of life in the cabins of the settler. He, as if providentially raised up for that very pur pose, from among his backwoods brethren, called together the neighborhood, and with a heaven-born zeal, and native eloquence, such as no arts of oratory can give, poured out his soul in exhortation. In a 310 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. short time, many were converted through his instru mentality, and a Church was organized upon the apostolic plan. Had those backwoodsmen waited until a congregation had assembled of their own accord, and in deliberate session called a pastor to feed them with the bread of life, that large and des titute neighborhood would have remained to this day unsupplied. God caUed the preacher, and the preacher called the people, not they him, and through his labors, " the wilderness and solitary places were made to blossom Uke the rose." Though we speak thus, we do not object to Church order in regard to the call and quaUfications of the ministry by any means ; but here were extraordinary circumstances, and extraordinary means were neces sary to meet them, and the will of the Great Father can as readily be indicated by them, as the putting forth of the leaves of the forest indicate the approach of summer. As, in the order of God, his labors were recognized by the Church, he was soon invested with her authority to do the work of an evangelist. No longer as a hunter, with knife, and tomaliawk, and rifle, chasing the deer or treeing the bear, but as a backwoods preacher, he might be seen blazing a path to distant settlements to preach the everlasting Gospel, and gather the wanderers into the fold. Though his fare was even harder, and his labors more toilsome and abundant than they had been, yet, "THE OLD CHIEF." 311 ¦without fee or reward from man, he urged his way through dense forests, tangled thickets, over hill and dale, and rapid river, taking circuits of a thousand miles to preach to his feUow-men. On one of his excursions, he came to a point on the Tuscarawas Eiver, where the Christian Indians had formerly estabUshed a settlement. Among these Indians, years before, the Moravians had organized a mission Church. They had become Christianized, and thus were civilized, as Christianity can only be come the civiUzer of barbarous nations. Every other policy has failed, and, indeed, must fail. Savages must be made new creatures, by the transforming in fluence of the Gospel ; grace only can successfully control and guide them in the path of civilized Ufe. A miUtary government may hold them in check, but that very restraint will only serve to exasperate them, as the chain chafes the spfrit of the untamed tiger, and only whets his appetite for blood. Schools may be organized among them, but only so far as they partake of the Christian element, will they be promotive of good. These Indians had laid down the tomahawk and scalping-knife, and only at par ticular seasons of the year did they resort to hunting, and then not to depend on it for a UveUhood. They had tumed their attention to the cultivation of the soil, and had built them to-wns, in which the Church and mission school stood side by side. 312 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Early one moming, in the spring of 1782, a com pany of militia, under the command of Colonel Williamson, encamped on the river, opposite to Gnadenhutten, one of the Indian to-wns. The in habitants were at work in the com-flelds adjacent thereto, with the exception of an old Indian and a squaw. Sixteen of this company crossed the river, and, entering the town, basely murdered these two unprotected Indians. They then went into the coi-n- fields, and, through protestations of friendship, and promises of protection, and holding out the most flattering inducements, prevailed upon them to con sent to go with them to Fort Pitt. They also pre vailed upon them to send a deputation to Salem, another Indian town, for the purpose of persuading their brethren to go with them to a place where they would be safe from the attacks of hostile Indians, and have everything they could desire to make them happy. The demon arts of the white man succeeded, and it was not long until a deputation was sent, and they succeeded in inducing their brethren to join them; and soon, aU things having been got in readiness, they started to join thefr brethren, and the kind, white friends who had promised to do so much for them. Poor, unsuspecting red man ; little did you think that your wives and your Uttle ones, in lea-ving yom- peaceful -village, were going into the very jaws of death ! They had not been gone "THE OLD CHIEF." 313 long before WiUiamson and his gang of desperadoes — for they had now all crossed the river — gave the unsuspecting Indians an evidence of their friend ship, by binding them all hand and foot, and confin ing them in two houses, the males in one and the ' females in the other. On the arrival of the Indians from Salem, for they were alike deceived by the vil lainous arts of the white men, they also were seized, and bound, and thrust into prison with their com panions. And now comes a scene of horror and cold blooded cruelty which is enough to make one loathe his race. A council was held, and, -with but few ex ceptions, these inhuman soldiers deliberately resolved on tomahawking every man, woman, and child of the one hundred prisoners that had been decoyed into their power. We talk of savage barbarity, and teach our chUdren to look upon the painted savage as bloodthirsty and cruel; but the scene we are about to describe, for base, craven-hearted enormity and inhumanity, is almost without a paraUel in aU the annals of crime. No sooner had they arrived, than their sworn protectors rushed upon them, and, seizing them with the rest, with savage cruelty, converted their homes and altars into dungeons and stakes. The fearful apprehension of thefr fate came upon them ; and, Uke Christians, they submitted with resignation. That gloomy night was spent in prayer and praise to 314 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. God; and when the moming sun flashed its first beams on wood and river they were led out, one by one, to execution. Every one of that helpless and innocent band, some of whom had been members of the pious Brainard's fiock, and had listened to the eloquence of the meek and devoted Zinzendorff — fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, husbands, -wives, and prattUng, unconscious children — ^were led out separately to the block; and the tomahawk of the white man did its work of death. God fruly is mer ciful, or the red bolts of his avenging wrath would have descended upon that murderous and cowardly band. But the work of death was done ; nor prayers nor tears could move the savage hearts of Williamson and his men. The Ufeless bodies were thro-wn into the houses, the torch applied, and soon the homes of the Indians became their graves. Talk about merciless savages and their revengeful disposition! When we consider the depredations and cruelties of the Christian white man, we wonder that there is a peaceful or a Christian Indian in aU the vast territory, where they are permitted, by the merest sufferance, to find a home. "What would we think if a nation mightier than we, inteUectuaUy as weU as physically, should invade our country, and kill our fathers, and mothers, and brothers, and sisters, and drive us from our homes, our altars, and the graves of our kindred? Whatever we might "THE OLD CHIEF." 315 think, it would take centuries of better dealing to make us believe that their religion was anything else than that which we could receive. Is it not a thotisand wonders that any Indian has been converted to Christianity? Alas! we spend our sympathies on the poor hea then, in their wild and desert homes, and pray that thefr "wilderness and solitary places may be made glad" by our reUgion, when a wilder desert and a deeper gloom are around us. There is a frightful moral wilderness in our midst, "More dreary than the deepest shade Of India's tiger-haunted wood, Or Western forests unsurvey'd, Where crouching panthers lurk for hlood." The blood of those one hundred Indians, which was shed in that peaceful viUage, on the banks of the Tuscarawas, has left a stain of itself, without adding the innumerable catalogue of butcheries which have disgraced the annals of our nation, that neither sum mer's rains nor winter's snows can ever wash out of the earth. It cries to God for vengeance, and, as nations are judged in time, the day of recompense will come. It may be postponed ; the fearful retribu tion may not come in this generation or a succeeding one, for the cup of national iniquity may not yet be sufficiently fuU; but nothing can avert it. God is just, 316 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. and come it must. On the side of the oppressor there may be a power which may shield him for a time, and he may revel in conscious security ; but a righteous destiny will foUow him through aU the hid ings of that power, and track him to his fate. In an hour when he least looks for and least dreads the approach of danger, when, perhaps, Uke the guilty monarch of Babylon, a thousand incense-burners are gleaming on the faces of the joyous throng, a Ught above their brightness, and in whose glare every earthly fire shaU pale, will fiash out his doom. Provi dence may give this nation space for repentance and restitution; but if the harvest of its merciful visitation and the summer of its grace shall pass away without the one and the other, then, though territory after territory be annexed, island after island, and conti nent after continent, and it can boast of more magni ficent cities and a -wider and wealthier domain than ever belonged to Assyria, or Egypt, or Babylonia, or Greece, or Eome, in their palmiest days, God -wiU blot it from the record of nations. But we must return to the dark and bloody scene we have been describing. Nothing was to be seen when our young missionary -nsited the spot but the charred and blackened ruins, standing as a grim and ghastly monument of the inhuman act. Once he felt a hatred for the Indian race, and thought nothing of the sacrifice of their lives ; but now that grace had "THE OLD CHIEF." 317 changed his heart, and he was under the influence of that religion which teaches that "he who hateth his brother is a murderer" in his heart, he felt his whole nature drawn out in sympathy for the poor Indian. As he dropped the tear of affection upon the ashes of the slain where he stood, his manly heart formed a deliberate and firm resolve that he would, should Pro-vidence open his way, consecrate his life to the present and eternal interests of that outcast, perse cuted race of his fellow-men. He saw that they were rapidly melting away before the approach of a civilization, which lacked the element of a human izing, peace-breathing Christianity, as snow at the approach of the sun, and what was done must be done quickly. He had read the wail of the mountain chief, which, like the dying notes of the swan, had a melancholy sweetness, and he resolved to keep an eye upon the openings of Providence, and enter any door that might be opened for the relief of the poor Indian. It was not long until an opportunity was afforded him of benefiting one of that race for which his spirit longed. There came, on one occasion, to a meeting where he preached, an Indian woman, leading a bright and beautiful Uttle boy. She was habited in Indian costume, but the simplicity of her dress only revealed more clearly the beauty of her person. Her fiowing tiesses fell in massy ringlets over her finely-molded 318 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. neck and shoulders. After the exercises of preach ing were over, the missionary approached her, and addressed her on the subject of religion, for she could speak EngUsh. She was interested in that subject, for it was to hear something about the white man's God that she had come. This child of the forest was not long in finding the way of salvation, and when the rich tidings of a Saviour's love touched her heart, her dark, lustrous eye was kindled with an unearthly radiance, and beamed with the light of heaven. Soon after her husband, who had been a prisoner in her tribe, was converted, and was made a partaker of the same joy. The success which attended his labors in this particular direction were, to him, doubly encouraging, as they not only inspired him -with strong hopes of success in his contemplated mission, but strengthened his purpose to devote himself en tirely to the promotion of the salvation of the Indian race. It served as a kind of first-fi-uits, which be tokened not only the nature, but the extent of the harvest. The pioneer preacher continued in his itinerant labors, pitching his cabin on the different fields assigned him by the Church, and with his buckskin pants, and a blanket for an overcoat, often going for a whole day without food, he threaded his way through the -wilderness, hunting up the cabins of the scattered settlers, and preaching to them tbe "THE OLD CHIEF." 319 Word of Ufe. His circuits, which he traveled suc cessively, extended from the Ohio Eiver to the lakes, and from the Pennsylvania line to the dis tant plains of Indiana. At length the period arrived, when the way was opened for entering upon a mission among the In dians. Years before, the Gospel had been received among the Wyandots, a brave, and once powerful nation, occupying a reservation bordering upon Lake Erie, where were located the Indian towns of Upper Sandusky, Big Spring, and Tawawa. He had the Wyandot mission embraced in his field of labor, which extended from Southem Ohio to the shores of Lake St. Clair. It was late in the fall of the year, when he left the white settlements to attend a meeting which had been appointed at the Maumee Eapids. A deep, dense wilderness stretched away before him, and between him and his destination lay the Black Swamp, which, on account of the autumnal rains that had set in, would be rendered more difficult to cross. A journey was before him more difficult and hazardous by far than a trip, at the present day, across the ocean in winter storms. He had no companion, and left to his thoughts and feeUngs, he picked out his way as best he could through the wildemess. Two nights he camped out, or, in other words, made a pillow of his saddle at the root of 320 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. some free, with the branches for a covering. He at length reached the rapids, and there, in the midst of a dense wildemess, stretching aU aroimd him, from lake to river, and from river to mountain, he preach ed the Gospel, and administered the first holy sacra ment ever celebrated by a Protestant in those wilds. From thence he went to the Wyandot reservation, and at Big Spring he opened up his mission to the red men of the forest, multitudes of whom had come together to Usten to the white man's preacher, and hear about the white man's God. After making arrangements for future operations among them, he returned through the wildemess home again. When the time arrived for him to start out for his final residence among the Indians, he collected together the necessary materials for housekeeping and farming. The mission company consisted of himself and wife, two young women, and two young men, whom he had hired to assist him in farming. One of these young ladies started out as a teacher for the mission. She had been tenderly raised, and was weU educated, having enjoyed advantages, in both these respects, above backwoods girls in general. Yet she had conceived an ardent desire to engage in the missionary work, and bear to the young, benight ed children of the forest, the blessings of that educa tion and reUgion with which she had been so highly favored. "THE OLD CHIEF." 321 Eight days of weary travel passed away before they reached the Indian nation, and the only prep aration made for their reception was a newly raised cabin, without chinking or daubing, with neither fioor, chimney, -window, nor door. To any other but a pioneer preacher, this would have been discourag ing indeed; and we imagine it would take a louder call than the inducements offered to the hardy pio neer, to move upon the most zealous, even of those who offer themselves as missionaries of the present day, to urge them out into the field. Then, there were no missionary societies, with thousands in their coffers, to back the missionaries in their work and labor of love for the perishing. LiteraUy -without scrip, without purse, with nothing but the prospect of hard service and poor fare, but in the end a victor's wreath, or, perhaps, a martyr's crown, they started out ; sometimes, Uke Abraham, not kno-wing whither they went, but always -with the definite object of bearing the glad tidings to the poor and destitute wanderers. But our missionary was not to be discouraged by such unpromising appearances. He had, as we have afready seen, a brawny arm and a Herculean frame. Soon the cabin was made ten- antable, and employing a white man, -with his own forces he went into the woods for the purpose of feUing timber, for the erection of a mission-house. He did not go among the Indians to receive of 20 322 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. thefr labor and temporal things, but to labor for them, and make them the sole beneficiaries of his toils. He had no idea of making them "hewers of wood and drawers of water," to be borne on their shoulders in palankeens', and receive of thefr choicest furs and products of the chase. Not he. He went there for the high and glorious purpose of teaching them the docfrine of a pure benevolence, in imitation of the sacrifices which the Divine Lord himself had made; and to set them an example of industry and thrift, which they needed, if not equaUy, yet as cer tainly as they requfred the Gospel. Such examples will do more toward Christianizing and civiUzing the heathen, than all the prayers, and psalms, and ser mons, of aU the tioops of divinity-trained preachers that ever started from Oxford, Princeton, New Haven, or Newberry. While we would not decry education, beUeving that a minister of the Gospel should have, as far as possible, a thorough literary and theological training to fit him for his high and holy vocation, we are well assured that a knowledge of the society 'among whom he labors, and their habits and arts, with an adaptation thereto, wiU give him a greater access to the people, by identifying him -with their every-day life, than aU the perform ances of the closet, the study, or the pulpit. What are our missionaries doing in China? While they are poring over the grammars and lexicons of the court "THE OLD CHIEF." 323 language of the Celestial Empire, and quarreling over the translation of the Scriptures, instead of learning the popular language by mixing with the masses, and becoming identified with their interests, the milUons are perishing. But our thoughts have led our pen astray, and we shall come back from our wandering; remarking, as we return, that it would be weU, per haps, for the Church to look a little into this matter; and by "the Church" we mean, of course, the entire Church of Christ, but more especially those portions engaged in the work of missions. The Indian missionary and his o-wn hired hands went vigorously to work, feUing the timber, and cut ting it into saw-logs. At night they would haul them to a saw-miU some distaiice off, and sit up aU night to saw them into such kinds of lumber as they wanted. When the Indians saw their missionary at work, and- the blood running from his blistered hands, occasioned by the rough treatment to which they were exposed in the woods, no wonder they exclaimed, '¦'¦Great mam, he !" in their astonishment. They had never seen it before on this -wise. Hunters, and trappers, and frad- ers, and govemment officers, had never set them such an example. His strength in shouldering a log, his skill in shooting -with the rifie, and his fieetness in the chase, were equaUy remarkable, and kept up, in the minds of these children of the forest, a continuous ex citement. 324 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. At length the house was reared and finished, and the mission family, before winter, were comfortably housed in their new home. From daylight on Mon day morning xmtil late Saturday night, the missionary -wrought with his hands, but when the Sabbath came, that sweet day of rest, which God has pro'dded for man and beast, he would assemble his brethren of the forest to hear him discourse the words of Ufe. We have already remarked that these Indians had re ceived the Gospel. But few of them, however, had renounced their heathen rites and ceremonies; and about all that had been gained, with few exceptions, was their consent to place themselves under the care and instructions of a missionary. The first children received into the mission school were four orphans, presented by a poor Indian moth er. ^ To these others were added from time to time, and the family increased. The young lady who had volun teered to teach the Indian children was unremitting in her labors, and proved a sister of mercy to the poor, uncared-for young heathen. They became much attached to her, and through them, an influence was exerted upon the minds of the parents such as could have been accompUshed in no other way. We have often thought, that among Christian as well as heathen nations, a mightier influence was exerted through the instrumentality of schools, than even the preach ing of tiie Gospel, not only as it regards its effects "THE OLD CHIEF." 326 upon the minds of the youth directly, in molding their character and securing their destiny, but in its reflex action upon the minds of the parents. The self-sacriflcing devotion of this young female mission ary, connected with the zeal and unflagging devotion of the missionary himself, won upon the hearts of the savages, and many were induced to renounce their heathenism for the white man's religion. Such were the inroads that were continually being made upon the rites and practices of the Indian religion and worship by the well-directed efforts of the missionary. As might be expected, opposition arose, and the enemies of Christianity, because its profession re quired all to abstain from the use of intoxicating Uquors, and the sinful customs in which they for merly indulged, would sneeringly point at a Christian Indian, and say, "He sign away his liberty; he slave to white man." So far did the opposition extend, that the head chief and his secretary of war would hold meetings at the same hour on, the Sabbath, to prevent the Indians from attending worship at the mission. StUl he labored on, teaching the Indians, both by precept and example, the arts of civilization and the faith and duties of Christianity, without fee or reward, until heathenism began to yield, and the leaven of Christianity began to work and spread. It was not long until one of the chiefs embraced reUgion, thus 326 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. exerting a wonderful influence upon his tribe; and then another renounced his rites, and stiU another, until, from a mere handful of converts, the number increased to hundreds. These, spread.ing out in their hunts and councils with other nations, carried with them a knowledge of the white man's reUgion, until the influence was felt far and wide. The Wyandots, with their allies, the Sha'wnees, Delawares, and others, had been bitter enemies of the white race, and many a 'village and cabin on the frontiers, as we have seen, had felt the force of their arms. Less en mity could not have been expected from those who understood not the mild and peaceful principles of religion, especiaUy when their hunting ground had been invaded and many of their bravest slain. But now that they had received a kind and benignant Gos pel, breathing peace and good-will to all mankind, the tomahawk and scalping-knife were more deeply and effectuaUy buried than ever before. The name and person of the missionary became beloved and revered throughout the nation, and it would not have been difficult for him, such was the regard for him, to have taken advantage of thefr sim pUcity and attachment, and the reverence they paid him, to secure even their homage. As it was, they were anxious that he should have a part in the government of the nation. He did not leave the abodes of civilized and Christian Ufe for a heathen "THE OLD CHIEF." 327 land with any view whatever of deri^dng temporal advantage. He sought not theirs, but them. While he was preaching and praying, his heart was not upon their furs and rich lands ; but his whole soul was burdened, and went out in strong supplications to the Great Father for thefr salvation. He continued in the mission for a period of five years. In the mean time a Church was built, inclosed in a neat fence, around which was a rural cemetery, also inclosed, an engraving of which the reader will find at the beginning of this chapter. There was also a large mission school-house erected, where chil dren of both sexes, from different tribes, were edu cated. In this Church Indian voices joined, in tune ful melody, to sing the praises of God, in their own language. What EUot and Brainard did for the Indians in the East, our missionary and his associates were accomplishing for the Indians in the West. As we have before intimated, the Wyandots were anxious to have the missionary, their father, as they called him, adopted into the nation and made a chief. To their many and urgent soUcitations he at length consented. A chief had died, and they wished him to take the place of the departed. Having become Christian, and renounced, to a very great extent, their Indian customs, the ceremony of adoption and pro motion was done by a simple vote. The name given to him was Be-worWOrway, which signifies, in the 338 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. Indian tongue, sl/rong in his own way. This was an apt and appropriate name, and shows how weU the Indians studied and imderstood human character. Since then he has gone by the name of the "Old Chdef,'" and those who know him, for he yet Uves, and preaches almost 'with the sprightliness and power of other days, -sviU not fail to assent to the appropriate ness ofthe Indian name. Though full of benevolence and kindness, -with a heart overfio-wing -with sympa- tiiy for others, he is sternly firm in his adherence to what, in his conscience and judgment, he beUeves to be right. At the same time, to supply the place of the sister of another chief who had died, his wife was adopted and made a queen in the nation, with the name of Ta-ra^quas, which signifies, Tftoiher of a lairge famdl/y, as, at that time, she had under her care, in the mission-school, between sixty and seventy In dian children. The " Old Chief" has lived to see the West grow up from infancy to giant manhood ; and where, when as a hunter he Ughted his camp-fire, or as a pioneer preacher he pitched his cabin, there was naught but a wUdemess, now he beholds thri-dng towns and smUing farms. v> THE HERMIT. 331 CHAPTEE Xm. THB HERMIT. Toward the close of the last century there Uved, not far from the mouth of Elk Eiver, in the then un broken wilds of Western Yirginia, an old hunter, who, at an early day, with his companion, a man of similar habits, had started out in advance of either explora tion or settlement, for the purpose of ha-ving an unlimited hunting range in the mountains, with which that section of country abounds. This region was inhabited by nothing but -wild animals, which existed in the greatest variety and plenty, such as wolves, bears, panthers, deer, elk, and every kind of wUd beast peculiar to the West. Indeed, the country was so savagely -wild, that its dark mountains, deep soUtudes, gloomy dells, and wild, dashing rivers, roaming and foaming through the gorges, were looked upon with dread, even by the Indians. All the enemies our adventurous hunters had to contend vrith were the beasts of the -wilderness, with whom they shared undisputed possession for many years. In proof of the savageness of the country we may 332 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. remark, that many parts of it remain uninhabited and unbroken to this day, and the primeval forests stand as first they stood when they came from the aU-creating Hand ; the fiowers bloom in their wild, native. beauty, as first they bloomed; and the rivers fiow on in their wonted channels, undiverted by the hand of man. A traveler now, after the lapse of three quarters of a century, might travel for a day through continuous forests, and not find a single habitation, nor meet a single human being, unless it should be a ro-ving hunter who might chance to cross his path, in hot pursuit of game. We heard a lecturer in one of our Western cities, a few years ago, gravely state from the pulpit of an orthodox Church, that human nature was pure and undepraved in proportion as it was foimd approxi mating the native state. The idea was the same as that advanced by a certain geologist, that ores were but the rust of metals. The truth of the assertion in regard to native purity needs considerable qualifica tion. If the lecturer meant by it that man in his original state was pure, it will readily be admitted. When God created him he was pure as the morning light, the Uly of the mountain, or the spring which gushes out fresh and free at its base, for he pro nounced all good; but, since then, "he has sought out many inventions," and the result shows a won derful deterioration from the native state. Still the THE HERMIT. 333 remark of our lecturer is worthy of some consider ation ; and it is susceptible of proof, that there are more vices and crimes to be found in the midst of civilized, enUghtened, and Christianized society, than are to be found, or even kno-wn, among the wild, un tutored children of nature. ' Just as it was in ancient times, when pollution and crime reigned in Babylon, Nineveh, and Sodom, purity and strength were alone to be found in the wild mountain districts. The sacred record assures us that " the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty ;" but how far this " cruelty " which abounds is exotic, or indig enous in its character, we may not be able fully to de termine. One thing we do know, and that is, that the Indians of this country, before they were visited by the Christian white man, were in a state of pmity, peace, and happiness, to which they have ever since been strangers ; and that the vices, and even customs and habits, introduced among them by the civiUzed and enUghtened, have done more to degrade and ruin them, than any agency growing out of their native condition. But we intended not to philosophize, and shall return to our subject. No field could be presented where man might enjoy a -wilder Eden of delight in communion -with nature, than the region we have been describing among the Elk Eiver mountains. Though man, in this region, was not as wild as the 334 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. animals which roamed through its forests, he was, nevertheless, so far as human leaming is concerned, quite as ignorant. If he knew there was a God, whose providence extends to the minutest aff'airs of life, he had derived that knowledge from others ; for though "the heavens declare his glory, and the firmament showeth his handiwork," though the mountains, and vales, and trees, and fiowers, pro claim the hand that made them Divine, and " Every riU and mighty river rio'ws, mingling -with his praise forever," still aU is mystery without the voice of revelation. Mysterious truths may be -written in the stars, and the beautiful allusion of the poet may be true, that " the -wild flowers are the alphabet of angels, whereby they write on hiUs and flelds the mystery of heaven," yet all is mystery, deep, imsealed, unfathomable to the chUd of nature until it is revealed. We venture to affirm that at this day there are men — white men and women — in the wilds of Western Yirginia, and especiaUy in what is called the neutral ground between that state and Kentucky, who not only can neither read nor -wiite, but who have no more knowledge of the nature and character of God and the scheme of Christianity, than an inhabitant of interior Africa or India, or one of the islands nn-visited by a missionary. Many incidents Ulustra- THE HERMIT. 335 tive of this truth have come to our knowledge, and we shall relate one. The incident which we are about to give did not happen in the ¦wildest district of counfry of which we have been speaking, but further on toward the borders of civiUzation, and not many miles from a post route. It happened several years ago, and the gentleman who related it, a minister of the Gospel, has finished the errand of his Master and gone to his rest. He was one of those pioneer preachers who, in advance of civiUzation almost, had gone out into the wilderness to seek for the lost. He was one whom no labor could tire, no danger intimidate, and no scene disgust in the ser-vice of his Master, as he sought out, in the abodes of poverty, -wretchedness, and vice, his fellow-creatures, and conveyed to them the soul-saving truths of the Gospel. On one of his missionary tours through the mount ains, after traveling a whole day without food, fatigued and hungry, he espied smoke curling from a cabin by the side of his mountain-path, for there were no roads in that region, and it is said of the county-seat of that county, that its streets had never been indented by a wheeled carriage of any description. The day was spent, and further he could not go, without camping out aU night in the woods. Eiding up, he alighted, and, hitching his horse to a Umb of a sapUng which stood near the 336 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. door, he entered the humble abode. He found within a mother with her children. The husband was a hunter, and was out with his dogs and gun in quest of game. Addressing the lady, who re ceived him with a frank, honest smile, he said, " Good woman, can I get something for myself and horse to eat, and obtain lodging here to-night ?" " Might I ask you, what is your business ?" replied the lady, keenly eyeing him from head to foot. " I am a preacher, madam ; a preacher of the Gos pel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who died to save lost sinners." " Goody gracious ! is he dead ? I've never beam tell of the name, but I'm sorry he is dead, I told John [alluding to her husband] that all our neighbors might die and we would not know it, and I've been trying to git him to take the papers fi-om the post boy who stops here every four weeks, but he wont, because its too costive. But," she continued, "who's lost ? I never hear tell of one lost but I think of my poor father, who was lost in the mountains and was kilt by the wolves." Here she brushed away with her tow apron a tear, and a truer, brighter one never fell from mortal eye. " Dear me," she added, with a face suffused, " how I feel for the lost. Did what d'ye caU him git kilt hunting for the chU- drens ?" The preacher would have been unable to main- THE HERMIT. 337 tain his gravity, but for the eamest, childUke sim plicity of this woman, and he repUed, " It was not children he was seeking, but sinners ; lost sinners, such as you and I." " Well, I never hearn teU of that name afore. How long has Mister Sinners been lost ?" The preacher felt at a loss what to answer, or how to insfruct this child of nature, and involuntarily said, " Good woman, you are in great darkness." " Yes, I've been at John, ever sence our cabin was built, to cut a -winder in the eend on it ; but he's so taken with his hunt he's no time to do it." More confused than ever, the teacher of religion again exclaimed, in the form of a prayer, but with subdued tone, for the sympathies of his noble and generous heart were moved, " O Lord, what weak ness is here !" " Weak, did you say, mister ? I reckon you'd be weak if you'd been dauncy as long as I've been." Seeing that he would have to begin to insfruct her as a child without any fraining, he, for the mean time, abandoned fui-ther conversation on the subject of religion, and retumed to himself and horse. " Good woman, you have not told me if I could stay here to-night." " WeU, John's not at home, and it's night, and you're a stranger, I s'pose, in these woods ; you might git lost Uke Sinners and my o-wn father, and I'd be son-y 338 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. forever. I have no truck for your horse ; John never had one. I'U gin you some johnny cake, and you may sleep on my bed, and the children and me wiU sleep by the fire." The simple meal was prepared, and the preacher sat do-wn to the repast -with a thankful heart, con versing -with the mother and her children as they were able to bear. Before the hour for rest had come, the faithful preacher had opened up to that poor woman's mind, as well as to her children's, the glad tidings ; and, without a single shade of doubt, she heard and believed the whole story of the cross, and was at once converted and made happy in the love of God. Before retiring, John came home, and the joy of his wife at seeing him was greater than she ever before experienced, as the religion of the Saviour had opened up in her hitherto sealed heart fountains of living joy. The simple-hearted hunter also soon believed the same Gospel story, as it came fresh from his converted wife, became a penitent, and was soon a pardoned man. They both joined the Church, and their house was ever after the stopping- place of the itinerant. The seed sown by this pioneer preacher was in good ground. It feU not among briers and thorns, or in stony places, but in the vir gin soil of honest hearts. It was not " choked by the cares of the world, nor the deceitfulness of THE HERMIT. 339 riches." It sprang up quic]|ty, but it did not as quickly wither away, for it brought forth thirty, sixty, and a hundred-fold. But again we have wandered, and must return to our two hunters on Elk Eiver. The reader must not imagine that they came from the East away beyond the Blue Eidge alone. They brought their families with them from the land of their nativity. They were but fairly started in life. One of the hunters, whom we shall designate as the elder, had two sons, fine growing boys, inured to hardship from their birth ; the other was blessed with but one child, and that was a daughter. We need not say that these children were the idols of their parents : whose children are not, be the parents ever so humble and poor, and the chil dren ever so homely and ragged? But the latter was not the case. The boys were strong, well- formed, and hearty, with cheeks fat and ruddy as the blush of morning, and the girl goodly-fashioned, fair as the wild rose of the mpuntain, and pure as the snow that mantles its summit where it kisses the sky. The hunters had selected a spot which nature seemed to have formed for the very purpose whereon to erect their cabins. It was formed by a notch in the mountain, having a southern exposure, and protected from the winds of the north and the west. Here they were constructed, side by side. 21 340 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. They had brought with them g-uns and plenty of am munition, and it was not long until the hunters, with their wives and children, were arrayed in well- dressed buckskin and furs. The boys were already able to follow their fathers in their mountain hunts, , and, as they each had guns, they soon became skill ful himters and expert marksmen. The daughter, who was about the age of the younger son, between whom and his brother there was a difference of two years, remained at home as company for her mother and their companion. We need not say that these families lived in peace, without envious thoughts or evil surmisings. Carrying out the idea of the Boston lecturer, whom we mentioned, they were too far re moved from refined and fashionable society for that ; and even had there been any susceptibility in their nature, which might have made them assailable to the tempter, the occasion was wanting to caU it out. No new dress or bonnet, or equipage, or splendid party, where one might be taken and the other left, could intrude themselves as occasions of envy and ill-feeling in this Eden of the wildemess. They were constantly in each other's society, and each seemed to strive to the utmost to make the other happy. They Uved in cabins exactly aUke on the same sunny side of the mountain, wore the same kind and fashion of clothes, and partook of the same fare. They did not grow pale in the gas Ught, amid the short hours THE HERMIT. 341 ot the night, with compressed lungs and heated air in suffocating rooms, dancing polkas, or go into ecstasies, for the sake of taste and genteel breed ing, over the performance at an opera or theater. Ignorance of aU these appendages of "genteel society," to them was bliss, and where it was it were folly and madness for them to be wise. They were happy, and no feigned smile from painted face was necessary to convince any of the fact who could look into their Eden-home. And yet the rich, the gay, and the fashionable, are the ones that people envy. A quaint old book, whicii is coeval with the pyramids, and has come down to us, preserved intact Uke those gigantic monuments of the past, somewhere says, and we recoUect having often read it, " Ye call the proud happy, and they that tempt God are set up ; they have all that heart can wish ; but in a moment how are they consumed with ter rors ! When thou awakest, 0 Lord, thou wilt despise their image." Yain boast ! shallow appearance ! Our hunters enjoyed more happiness, in pursuit of the wild beasts which God had given man as his inheritance, and in the pleasures of the fireside, than aU that gold ever purchased. Their evenings were spent at home, not yawning over the last perfoi-m- ance of a brain that brought its author a living at the expense of his over-taxed mind, goaded to ex citement as the slave of the thousands who feed 342 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. upon his words, but in less doubtful and more healthful amusements, both for body and mind. Books they had none, not even Bibles ; and if they had possessed them, they could not have read them ; but the exciting chase, the perilous adventure and hair-breadth escape, supplied them with stories of real Ufe and happiness. Years passed on, during which time they had cleared a smaU farm in the valley, which spread out to the bank of the river. The boys had both gro-wn up to manhood, and the girl to pure and blushing womanhood. During all this time nothing had occurred to mar the happiness of the families, or cast even a momentary shadow over the bright scene. But even there, in that far-off, secluded Eden, sorrow, whose teary eye, and trembling steps, and faltering voice visit aUke the hut and the palace, entered that peaceful vale. At the close of a bright and balmy day in spring, aU nature having awakened from her winter's sleep and put on her most beautiful garments, the perfume of which filled the air with fragrance and the heart with joy, all was gloom and sadness in the hunter's home. James, their youngest son, was missing. For a day and a night, and still another day, he had been lost. He had gone out bunting with the party, but they separated, as it was necessary they should in searching game, and since that separation no tidings THE HERMIT. 343 had been heard from him. There were no neighbors upon whoin the disconsolate could call for assistance, and they had themselves scoured the mountain and valleys for miles around. The hunter's horn, which rang out clear its reverberations along the valleys and among the hills, might have been heard for many miles. Eeader, did you ever hear one of those horns blo'wn by the strong lungs of a -mountaineer ? If you ever did, you will say, with us, for far-reaching sound and sweetness of tone, they cannot be excelled. It is many a long year since we heard one ; but their sweet and plaintive sound still lingers in our memory like a pleasant dream. The soul of the hunter father went out in that sound, in quest of his idol boy ; and, as it grew faint and more faint in the far solitude, till it died on the portals of heaven, it was Uke the voice of mercy, whispering to the sorrowing heart of the mother, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away. Stay the anguish of thy heart, for though thy son is gone, he is not lost; the separated on earth shall meet again in the communings of that better world," " Where no fare'well -words are spoken, And no separation kno-wn." She had had a premonition. She read it in the sad face of her son as he gave the parting -word " good-by" on the fatal morning. Now that he was gone, aU recoUected something pecuUar in the 344 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. manner and actions of James on that moming, which would have been forgotten but for his mysteri ous disappearance. There was one in that little group who could solve that dreadful mystery. She had been fortifying herself, and struggUng with a breaking heart in hope against hope, that he would repent of his vow and return. We have already said that two days and a night had passed in fruitless search, and the weeping ones had gathered together in the cabin of the father. The mother, overcome with grief, had fallen upon her couch, and was wringing her hands and weeping most piteously for the lost. "0," said she, "some wolf, or bear, or panther has devoured him. O, if I could only look upon his face again ; if I only knew he was alive." The strong men were bowed in agony, with their faces buried in their rough but honest hands. The wife of the other hunter was, in sobs, striving to assuage the grief of the bereaved mother, and her daughter stood leaning upon the shoulder of her first and only love, for she and the elder brother were be trothed. But she could repress her feelings no longer; what she had resolved should die with her must be revealed. Staggering to the couch, whereon the weeping mother lay, uttering her cries and calUng the name of the lost, the maiden fell upon her knees, and, 'with a heart bursting, she exclaimed, " James is THE HERMIT. 346 not dead ! He told me he loved me, and asked me to be his wife. I told him I loved but one, and that was his brother, and we would be married. He then said, 'I will never see your face again.' It was early that morning, when we were out in the field together. He said he wanted to talk to me alone. Taking my hand, he said, ' Farewell ! we'U meet no more. I 'will go to the great river, and live by myself forever.'" This was some relief to the mother, and proved of comfort to all to know that he was, in all probability, living. As hope is ever springing in the human breast, the mother rose, and said, "I know James will retum after this boyish freak is ended." But that group never looked upon his face again. Many a spring came, and " To -wood and 'waters round, Brought bloom and joy again," and was succeeded by summer and winter, and re tumed again ; but with it came not the lost, nor any tidings of him. He was never heard of by any of the family a'fterward. The stroke was too great for the poor girl, and she often bitterly reproved herself for not telling her mother immediately what had happened ; but she was young, timid, and inexperienced, and . knew not what to do until it was too late. Like the mountain flower, whose fit representative she was, when summer had passed and -winter came, she 346 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. drooped ; a melancholy came over her spirit that the love of father, mother, and affianced one could not dispel, and ere the next summer had come, they laid her in her quiet grave in the valley. As pure and noble a heart as ever beat in an earthly casement ceased its throbbings, and was at rest forever; and she who was loved by both the brothers became the wife of neither. James, as soon as he got out of sight of the party, struck directly for the Ohio Eiver. He had been on the banks of the Kanawha, and knew that stream emptied itself into the " Great Eiver," as the hunter named it who told them of it. In the course of several days' travel he reached the mouth of the Kanawha, and for the first time beheld the Ohio. At the mouth, where Point Pleasant now stands, was a fort and several buildings ; but he had connected with his vow of leaving home forever, one equally rash — ^that he would pass the remainder of his days as a hermit, away from the abodes of any human being. He had subsisted thus far on his journey by his gun, and the supply which he took from home on the morning of his departure. He was now twenty-one years of age; a well- formed, handsome man. His height was about five feet ten inches, with a frame rather slender, but tough and elastic as hickory, able for the endurance of any fatigue or hardship. His dress, as we have THE HERMIT. 347 afready said, was entirely composed of buckskin. The cuffs, and coUar, and fringe of his coat were made of fur, taken from the wild cat. His coat was fastened around him by a belt, in which he carried his knife. His feet were inclosed in nicely wrought moccasins, made by the fair hand of the one on whose account he had abandoned home forever, while his head was surmounted by a coon-skin cap, ornamented with the tail of a black squirrel, which curled gracefully down the side of his face like the plume of a knight. Finding that he had got into the settlements, he cast his eye over the Ohio side of the river, and saAV its unbroken wildemess stretching away as far as his vision could extend. Finding some boys at play on the bank, he prevailed upon them to ferry him across the river in a canoe which was tied to the shore, which they did, receiving a pair of buckskin gloves, the only thing as a compensation he had to give. He was again out of sight of human beings ; and, with a bounding step, he plunged into the wilderness, taking a northwesterly direction. On and on he traveled, over hiU and dale, craggy precipices, and deep ravines, and tangled thickets, not knowing whither he was going, nor yet caring, so that he could find a home in the -wild wood, far from the haunts of man. The iron had entered his soul; and, like the stricken deer, he was seeking the deepest 348 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. solitude to die. At night he would kindle a fire, and cook his wild game which he had taken ; which would not only answer for his supper, but serve as a supply for the next day's joumey. Occasionally he would cross a trail, or path. At other times he would find the trees blazed, all indicating to his experienced eye the presence of man; and no sooner did his eye fall upon them than he started, as if met by an apparition, in a different direction from which they led. He had now been absent from home a week, having notched the number of days on the stock of his rifle. Though far away, his heart was at home ; but a cruel fate impelled him on, and on he wended his solitary way. For the last day he had not dis covered any traces whatever of the presence of human beings, or even domestic animals. He had reached a wild, rocky glen, covered by giant trees ; so thickly set that their branches interlocked, and shut out the light of the sun. Around it rose up, almost perpendicularly, high hills. The ground, where not occupied by the trees, was covered thickly with plum and hazel bushes. Here was no sign of human life ; and neither foot-print of white man nor Indian had ever before been made in that deep, dark, narrow glen. A cave, which might have been the den of a wolf, had been scooped out by nature in the rooky side of the precipitous accUvity, on tht THE HERMIT. 349 right ; and a smaU rivulet, almost lost in the grass and bushes, which grew in rank luxuriance upon its bor der, meandered through the ravine. Here our wan derer concluded — after thoroughly reconnoitering the surrounding country for many miles, to be certain of solitude — to take up his abode. After arranging some stones, as a fire-place, in the mouth of his cave, and gathering some wood, he kindled, with his fiint and steel, the first fire ever kindled by man in all that region. With smooth bark, and leaves, and mountain moss, he made a bed ; and after the toils of the day were ended, and he had partaken of his evening repast, he would quietly slumber in his cave till morning. The woods were full of game ; and he had collected a considerable amount of furs and skins, which he must dispose of; besides, his powder and lead were nearly exhausted, and he must obtain a supply. "Where to go to find them he knew not. To travel back to Point Pleasant, if he could even find the way, was rather too gi-eat an undertaking. Necessity crowded upon him, and wrought a some what different state of feeling in his mind. Before, he would have shunned the approach of a white man with infinitely greater readiness than he would that of a panther ; but now he would gladly meet one for the pui-pose of obtaining information with regard to the supply of his pressing wants. One day, as he sat by his cave, in a more sad and 350 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. melancholy mood than formerly — for no smile had lighted up the countenance of that once joyous youth since, -with a burdened heart, be left his father's house, nor was he ever known to smile — one day, just as the sun was setting, he heard voices in the distance.. From the direction of the sound, the per sons from whom it proceeded were evidently coming up the ravine. At first he felt joyful, the first ray of sunshine that had lighted up the dark surface of his heart since he became a wanderer; but it was in stantly expeUed, leaving it darker than ever, at the thought that his cave would be discovered, and that he would be obUged to move from a place to which he had become attached. Secreting him self in his cave, his fire not yet having been kindled for the night, he waited their approach in breathless suspense. It happened to be a surveying party, on their route from Portsmouth to ChiUicothe. As they came near, one exclaimed: "We have got to the Stony Battery and Dividing Eidge, just half way from Pee Pee to home." "Can we reach there to-night?" said another ofthe company to the man who had made the first remark heard by the hermit. "Well, I reckon not, unless we push on faster than we have, and you don't stop so often to hunt for curiosities." THE HERMIT. 351 Just then, attracted by the wildness of the rocky scenery, he was about to step aside, in the direction of the cave, but the last remark caUed his attention homeward, and he resumed his journey. Seizing his gun and skins, the hermit started in pursuit; and, keeping a respectful distance behind, with them he scaled the Dividing Eidge, following the pioneers toward Chillicothe. Before they had traveled many miles, night overtook them ; but they had resolved on reaching home, and pressed on through the darkness. Hitherto, the hei-mit was enabled to elude detection by picking his way ; but now the darkness forbade it, and he feared that he might accidentaUy tread on a dry stick, whose crack would befray him to the keen and practiced ear of these frontier men. Nothing occurred during the journey to expose his proximity to the travelers. The moon had risen, and was casting her silvery light on the fieecy clouds which were drifting "On-ward like beautiful vessels of heaven, To their far-a'way harbor all silently driven, Bearing on in their bosom the children of light, Who've escaped from this dark 'world of sorrow and night." At length the weary tiavelers descended the hiU which rises on the south of the Scioto valley, about half a mile from the river, on the opposite shore of 362 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. which is ChiUicothe, the name given by the Indians to the town. But here a difficulty presents itself to the hermit : how shaU he cross the river without making himself known to the travelers? Unwilling to do this, he halted, and allowed them to proceed and cross the river, which they did, after some considerable diffi culty in getting a craft. Concluding to wait till morning, he laid himself down at the root of a tree, and slept until sunrise. Eising refreshed, he went to the river, and for a coon-skin obtained a passage across. His next object was to obtain a purchaser for his skins and furs, which he was enabled to do in the first store that he entered. The first stores which were opened in the West depended mostly on thefr frade in coimtry produce, such as bees-wax, ginseng, feathers, eggs, chickens, turkeys, skins and furs of all kinds, hickory brooms, ax handles, country sugar and molasses, hoop poles and barrel staves, shingles and hominy blocks — ^in fact, everything that the country produced; and would give in exchange for it gro ceries, whisky, powder, shot and lead, iron, salt, and dry goods. There was then but Uttle money, and what there was was Owl Creek, Wild Cat, Muskin gum, and Belmont, which proved to be of little value. The great amount of business transactions was carried on in trade. Houses and lots in to'wn, and lands in the country, were bought and sold for THE HERMIT. 363 horses, cattle, guns, and even dogs have been ex changed for valuable considerations. The hermit was taken by many for an Indian; so stiaight and well formed, and dressed so much like one, with a face bronzed by exposure, he only wanted a tomahawk and some Indian ornaments to make the by-standers — and there were always plenty of that description loafing round a village store in those ear ly days — believe he was one. Many were the ques tions asked him about his home, and the " craps in his neighborhood," to all of which he was silent. After he had transacted his business, selUng his skins and furs at the price put upon them by the store-keeper, recei'ving in exchange powder and lead, and a small tea-kettle and tin cup, he departed, but left the town in an entirely different direction from that in which he had entered it, intending, after he had got out of sight, to make a circuit and strike the path by which he came, for home. There followed him from the viUage a dog, who, whether he had lost his master, or had been attracted by the pecuUar appearance of the man of the woods, we know not. Notwithstanding he stopped several times on the way, and attempted to drive him back, the dog would crouch down at his feet, and refuse to move an inch. So obstinately did he persist in foUowing, that he finally gave up his opposition to his company, and, beginning to feel an attach- 364 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. ment for the animal, he at length patted him on the head, gave him a piece of jerked venison, and they continued the journey as friends, never to be separated until death. Toward the close of the day he arrived at his cave, and, with his new-found acquaintance, sought rest from his travels. He remained in his solitary home aU winter, when he was not out hunting for game, and saw no one since he left ChilUcothe. Early, however, in the spring, a company of surveyors were sent out to locate a road from ChiUicothe to Piketon, a dis tance of about twenty miles. They would labor all day, surveying the most practicable route and dri-ving thefr stakes, and at night would camp out. On one occasion he was surprised by a party of these surveyors, who had grown scarce of provi sions, and had gone out on a hunt. One of the party recognized him as the stranger with the skins at ChilUcothe, though months had passed since he saw him. They seemed glad at falUng in -with him, as they had been unsuccessful in procm-ing game ; and, knowing that he was a practiced hunter, besought him to take them where there was game, promising to reward him by furnishing him with ammunition. To their proposal he assented, and after traveling a few miles they started a deer. Instantly every gun was fired, so anxious was the party, but -without effect, as the deer bounded away. THE HERMIT. 355 He did not, however, get out of sight before the unerring aim of the elk mountain hunter brought him to the ground. " There, men," said he, " is your game ;" and with that he bounded away, and they saw him no more. The road was made; and as the hermit had several times been seen in that locality years after ward by travelers and hunters, it was generally believed that he made his home somewhere near, or on the Dividing Eidge. Having found out the locality of Piketon, a village situated on the Scioto, the location of which, by Simon Kenton and his party in 1795, occasioned the unhappy death of Miller, whose bones are interred beneath the bank which bears his name, he went to that place, instead of ChilUcothe, the next time he wished to barter his skins for ammunition. Here he was equaUy an object of wonder and astonishment, both from the peculiarity of his dress and the wildness of his manners. It was not long until he was pretty gen erally known, tho'ugh to all entreaties about his mysterious inode of life he was silent. Many were the surmises as to the cause of his abandoning the society of his species, and living the life of a hermit ; but it was not until toward the close of his life that the secret became known. His cave was at last found by a hunter, who left him some corn bread, 22 356 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. and it was afterward frequently visited. He had inhabited it, unmolested, for many years, and none but his O'wn foot had" crossed the threshold. Much as he dreaded the invasion of his fellow-man, he had become too much attached to his home to leave it, and, besides, he was growing old, and he concluded to end his days there. In the mean time, ¦wild and broken as the region was, other settlers had come in and erected their cabins, some within a few miles of him. Years passed, and in the progress of improve ment a canal, leading from Chillicothe to Ports mouth, was constructed, which passed to the east of him not many miles. It was finished, and other improvements begun, while farms were opening all around him ; still he clung to this wild, sequestered spot. One day, in a deserted shanty on the bank of the canal, he was found lying sick and unattended, except by his faithful dog. How long he had been there none knew. AU who had seen him, or heard of him, felt an interest in him; and when it was known that the hermit was thus exposed, he was visited by friends, who took him to Waverly, and procured for him a physician and nurse. But his sickness was unto death, his wanderings at an end. He breathed his last, and was buried in the 'viUage graveyard. THE HERMIT. 357 Some years after his death a turnpike road was laid out between ChiUicothe and Portsmouth, and it was located so as to run right by the side of the hermit's cave. After the road was finished, the bones of the hermit were removed to the cave, its mouth was filled up with heavy masonry, and on the surface of the rock above a monument was erected. And now, as the traveler crosses the Dividing Eidge, on one- of the most smooth, beauti ful, and romanticaUy-winding Macadamized roads we ever saw, and comes in sight, as he descends toward Pleasant YaUey, a village which has re cently sprung np, he will see on his left a plain obeUsk of stone, bearing the inscription. JAMES HE"WETT, 358 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. CHAPTEE XIY. PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING. Of all the wild beasts that inhabit the Westem forests, none are more the hunter's dread than the panther. Their sly, stealthy, cat-like tread, scarcely making a rustle among dry leaves, their frightful spring, and the certainty of securing thefr victim in their long, knife-Uke claws, has assigned to them a place in the West, similar to that occupied by the Uon in the forests of Africa. They have not, to be sure, the strength of the bear, nor the prowling nature of the wolf, but what they lack in sfrength, they make up in quickness of motion, and terrific fierceness of attack. While the bear is getting ready for a hug, the panther -will tear his -sdctim to pieces. The scream of the panther, Uke the rattle of the Western serpent, is a sound that never fails to create a tremor in the nerves of the bravest back woodsman, and when one is heard in a settlement, it creates as great an excitement as the presence of a rabid dog would among the inhabitants of a vUlage. They atta6k almost all kinds of beasts, but generally PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING. 369 they have a preference for the deer, elk, and buffalo. Large as the latter animal is, it falls a victim to the panther's deadly spring. When, from some over hanging cliff, or the branches of some tree, it springs upon a buffalo, striking its claws deep into the fiesh, there is no escape ; for its claws are so sharp and strong, that they penetrate the bark of the hardest tree, enabling them to ascend with the fleetness of a cat. The affrighted animal may plunge through the thicket and endeavor to shake off the terrible foe, but aU is of no avail ; the panther, grappling the neck, soon extracts the life-blood, and the victim falls. In their native wildness they were as fearless as they were ferocious, until the deadly hunter's rifie taught them the power of man. They will, notwithstand ing, when they are confident of success, attack a man, though they will run from a dog, not because they fear him — for with one stroke of their paw they could put a stop to his chase and silence his barking forever — but because of the proximity of the hunter with his rifie. An incident occurred in Westem Yirginia during the last half century, that will serve to illustrate the nature of the attacks of these animals on defenseless man. A pioneer preacher had left the rude cabin of his host, which had but one apartment, and was well suppUed with children, whose noise inten-upted his studies, and had sought a retired place in the 360 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. woods. The place he selected was beneath the spreading branches of a majestic oak. Here he placed himself in a recumbent posture with his book in hand, and was soon lost in the mazes of thought which the author's ideas opened up to his mind. "While indulging in these abstractions, his at tention was diverted from his book by the crack of a dry stick, producing a sound Uke that of one walking in the woods. Turning his head in the direction of the sound, his eyes met those of his host not thirty yards distant. Instantly the hunter gave a low, quick, whist ! and raising his rifie in the direction of the branch immediately over the head of the reclining preacher, he fired, and down came, cracking through the lower branches, a huge panther, whom the hunter discovered just making ready to spring upon the un conscious preacher. We have two veritable panther stories, related by hunters who were themselves the actors in the scenes they represent, and as they will serve to illustrate pioneer Ufe among the -wild beasts of the West, as weU as what we have given in other chapters is designed to iUustrate life among the savages — ^both of which disputed with the white man for the occu pancy of the soil — they will be given to the reader. The story which follows was taken from the Ups of a mountain hunter, and runs thus : The settlement on the mountain here is very scat- PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING. 361 tered, and there are no inhabitants for a considera,ble distance back from the road. I heard that a person had been hunting, and said that he had seen three panthers ; upon which I called on him, and he told me that, at a certain place on Spring Brook, about ten miles from this, he had come across three pan thers, and had tried to fire at them, but could not get his gun to go off. I thought the fellow was a coward, that only part of his story was true, and that he had been afraid to fire at them ; but as I knew exactly the place which he described, (for I had been fre quently there on hunting excursions,) I thought I would go and see whether there had been any pan thers there; so I started off next moming with my' dog. You know what a terrible thicket of laurel, and spruce, and hemlock there is about here ; well, it is as bad aU the way to the place where the fellow said he saw the panthers. At last, however, I got to it, and sure enough the panthers had been there. There was a little snow upon the ground, and I found where they had killed a deer, and eaten part of it ; but I knew that after I had been at the place they would not go back to it again; for a panther will never touch his game a second time, if anything else has been at it. I marked which way they went, as it was two days since they had been there ; and as I did not know how long I might be in the woods in chase of them, I thought it would be best to go home and 362 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. get a supply of provisions for a good long hunt, and then take a fresh start ; but as it was almost night, I struck a fire, and laid down tUl moming. As soon as it was Ught, I started off, taking my back track to go home, and got about half way, when, behold, I came right on the panthers' tracks ! They had crossed the path I had made in the snow the day before. I knew they had crossed in the daytime, for it had been warm, and the snow had melted a little, and I could easily tell that fhey had crossed my path before night. I started on the tiack, and followed tUl almost evening, when I saw a light place in the woods, and going into it, I found I was on a road about three miles from home. I then concluded it would be the best way for me to go home that night, and get my knapsack of provisions, as I had intended, for I did not know but the varmints might keep me running after them a whole week; and I was determined, if I once started them, to give them no time to rest or kill game, as long as I could see to follow them, let them go where they would; and sometimes they lead one an awful long chase. So home I went, filled my knapsack with provi sions, and started out with my dog. He is a good fel low for a panther, and likes hunting as well as I do- Well, as I said, as soon as it was daylight next morn ing, out I went, and got on the tiack again where I had left it the evening before, and foUowed it all day PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING. 363 long, up one valley and down another, over hills and tlirough laurel swamps, till just before sunset, when I came on a fine buck which the panthers had killed and partly eaten, and which was still warm. They had killed him where he lay : he had never got up. He had been lying behind a large hemlock-tree, which -was blown down ; and it appeared, by the marks in the. snow, as if they had smelt him, crawled up close to him, jumped over the tree, and seized him in his bed. Tliey always take their 'game by surprise. They never make more than two or three jumps after it : if it then escapes, they tum off another way. They had eaten as much as they wished of the buck, and after getting their fiU, they appeared to have been in a very good humor, for their marks showed where they had played about, and had jumped up and down all the small trees around. They did not know who was after them. I had not expected to come on them so soon, and had pushed ahead without any caution, so that they had heard my approach ; and I soon found, by the appearance of things, that they must have started away just as I came up, for instead of keeping together as they had done all day before, . they had set off in different directions. I thought, as it was sunset, that I had better encamp where I was, for they would hardly come back in the night to claim their buck ; but first, I thought I would look around a little more, to see which track it would be 364 PIONEERS OF TBE WEST. best to follow in the morning, and so just went a lit tle way into the swamp, which was close by me, when, only think ! one of the fierce animals had been watching all the time, and I heard hira start -within ten rods of me ; but the laurel was so thick that I could not see him. As soon as he started, away went the dog after him, full yelp. I stood still, and there was a glorious threshing among the laurels, when aU at once I heard the panther take up a tree. I heard his nails strike tlie bark the first dash he made. It was a beautiful still evening, and I said to myself, I have one of you, any way ; and I ran as hard as I could through the thicket, tumbling over logs, and scrambling through the laurels, until I came to where Toby was, barking, and jumping, and shak ing his tail, and looking mightily tickled at having got one of them up the tree. I soon saw the panther lying at his full length on a limb : it was on a very large hemlock. I did not know well what to do ; for it was now so late that I could scarcely see the foresight of my rifle, and I could not see the notch of the hindsight at aU ; but, as I knew my gun, I thought I had better ven ture a shot, rather than keep watch at the tree aU night ; and so I drew up, and took the best aim I could, and fired away. The tarnal thing never stirred, but I said to myself, I am sure I can't have missed you. In a short time I saw a motion in his PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING. 365 tail, which hung over the Umb on which he lay, and directly after, I could hear his nails gritting on the bark ; and I saw his body begin to slide round the Umb, till at last he slung fairly under it, suspended by his claws, and in a minute after he let go his hold, and down he came, cosouse ! so nearly dead, that when I ran to keep Toby from taking hold of him (for they are dreadful to fight, and can tear a dog to pieces in no time) I found him unable to stretch out a claw. I knew that I 'could find the place again, and so I just let him lay where he fell, and I went back to the buck, and made a good fire, and lay down there tUl moming. But first I cut some good slices off the buck, and roasted them for supper. He was a fine fat fellow, and killed as nicely as a butcher could have killed him. I don't like to eat part of a deer which has been, killed by the wolves, but a panther is a different thing. The next morning I started bright and early, and I soon came on the tracks of the other two pan thers. It appeared as if they had been tracing about separately, and had kept around the swamp nearly all night ; but at last they got together and started off. As soon as I got on the track I followed it briskly till about noon, when' I started them afresh, and let ting out Toby, they, and he, and I, all ran as fast as we could ; but they got about a quarter of a mile ahead of me, when dash ! one of them took up a free, which I 366 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. soon knew by the manner of the dog's barking. O, said I, I've got another one ! When I came up to the dog, there, sm-e enough, was a panther up a tree, shaking his tail and looking just like a cat when she is about to jump on a mouse ; but, says I, my fine fel low, I'll soon put a stop to your jumping. So I ups with my rifle, and down he came, as dead as if he had never been alive. I skinned him, and fast ened his skin to my knapsack, and away T started after the other one. The last fellow did not like to travel without his companions. I suppose he wondered what had be come of them. He kept dodging about, first one way, then another, as if he expected them to come up with him ; but he had another kind of companion hunting for him. WeU, as I said, after I skinned the second one, I started after the third, and in about two hours I roused him from behind a log, and Toby and he had a fine run for about ten minutes. I stood still ; for I thought maybe the panther would take a circuit to hunt for the other ones, and so he did ; but the dog was so close to him he thought it best to tree, in order, I suppose, to see who, and how many were after him. As soon as I knew, by the barking, he had treed, away I ran, and soon got on the track. I took notice of it on a leaning tree, which I ran past to the dog, who was about ten rods further, looking up at a large hemlock, and making a great racket. PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING. 367 I looked up, but I could see no panther. I went off a little where I could see every limb ; but there was no panther there. Why, said I, this can be ho ghost, to vanish in this way ; he must be on some of these trees ; but let us go where I last saw the track. So I went back to the leaning tree, where I had last seen the track. It was a pretty large hemlock, which had fallen against another, and, looking up, there I saw the fellow, sure enough, crouching right in the crotch, -where the leaning tree lay across the other, close down, so hidden by the limbs and green leaves of the hemlock that I could see only a small part of his body. In running to the dog I had gone right under him. Although I could see but little of him from the place where 1 stood, yet, as I was sure that what I saw was his shoulders, I did not wait to see any more of him, but took a fair sight and drew my trigger. Well, he didn't budge! I looked at him for some time, but he didn't stir. I was sure I had shot him through ; I thought it a pity to waste any more lead on him. His tail hung over the crotch of the large tree, and there was a smaUer tree which grew up close to the crotch, and I thought I could climb up the little tree, so as to catch his tail, and see whether he was dead or no ; but just as I was about half up I saw his tail begin to move, and, before I could get to the ground, his head and foreparts slid over the crotch, and down he came, as dead as a door-nail. So I 368 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. skinned him, and went back to the one I killed first, and skinned him, and got home that night ; and sent word to the fellow who saw them by the Spring Brook, that if he -would come to me I would show him the skins of his three panthers. The next is from a pioneer hunter of Kentucky, who is said to have killed the last buffalo in the cane-brakes of that state, and who for years sup pUed the Covington and Cincinnati markets ¦with bear meat and venison. His story is told as follows : I was living on a branch of Bigbone, caUed Panther Eun, from the circumstance to this day. It was the year after I had been out with General Wayne. I had left home for a deer hunt, with rifie, tomahawk, and butcher-knife in my belt, as customary, and, scouring about the woods, I came to a thick piece of brush ; in short, a perfect thicket of hoop-poles. I discovered some dreadful growling and scuffling was going on by the sound, apparently within a hundred yards or so. I crept as cautiously and silently as possible through the thicket, and kept on until I found myself within, perhaps, twenty steps of two very large male panthers, who were making a desperate fight, screaming, spitting, and yelUng like a couple of ram cats, only much louder, as yoiLmay guess. At last one of them seemed to have absolutely killed the other, for he lay quite motionless. This was what I had been waiting for ; PIONEER PANTHER HUNTING. 369 and while the other was swinging backward and for ward over him in triumph, I blazed away; but, owing to his singular motion, I shot him through the bulge of the ribs, a little too far back to kill him instantly. They are very hard to kill. But he made one prodigious bound through the brush, and cleared himself out of sight, the ground where we were being quite broken, as well as sideling. I then walked up to the other, mistrusting nothing, and was within a yard of him, when he made one spring to his feet, and fastened on my left shoulder with his teeth and claws, where he inflicted several deep wounds. I was uncommonly active, as well as stout, in those days,, and feared neither man nor mortal in a scuffle; but I had hard work to keep my feet under the weight of such a beast. I had my knife out in an instant, and put it into him as fast as possible for dear Ufe. So we tussled away, and the ground being sideling and steep at that, which increased my trouble to keep from falling, we gradually worked down hill till I was forced against a large log, and we both came to the ground, I inside and the panther outside of it, he still keeping hold, although evidently weakening under the repeated digs and rips he was getting. I kept on knifing away till I found his hold slack ening, and he let go at last, to my great rejoicing. I got to my feet, made for my rifle, which I had 370 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. dropped early in the scuffle, got it, and ran home. I gathered the neighbors, -with their dogs, and on returning found the panthers not more than fifteen rods apart; the one I had knifed dying, and the one I had shot making an effort to climb a tiee to the height of eight or ten feet, when he fell, and was speedily dispatched. Next day I stripped them of their skins, which I sold to a saddler in Lexing ton for two dollars apiece. You may depend I never got into such a grip again with a panther. THE SQUATTER FAMILY. 371 CHAPTEE XY. THE SQUATTER FAMILY. Among the early settlers of the West were many who moved out and selected sites for their homes upon any unoccupied land they might find, and, by clearing a portion of it and building a cabin, they obtained a preemption right to the soil, or, at least, a certain portion of it, and in possession of which they have been protected by the govemment, at least so far as that none could dispossess them without paying an equivalent for the improvements ; and even then they had a prior claim, or the privilege of purchasing, at govemment price, over every other purchaser. Such pioneers have been denominated " Squatters." In an early day a man, who had left the sterile soil of an Eastem state, started -with his young and rising family to better his condition in the rich and fertile valley of the West. He was a poor, but honest man ; had stiuggled hard to raise his famUy, and by patient industry was enabled to obtain an outfit of a horse and eart to joumey to the West. 23 372 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. Passing through what was then a -wildei-ness, he at length reached a spot on the IlUnois Eiver, about two hundred miles from its mouth, where he pitched his tent, and subsequently erected his cabin. His famUy consisted of a wife and three children ; the eldest, a boy, was in his nineteenth year, the next a girl in her eighteenth year, and the youngest a boy of fourteen. They were all healthy and vig orous, the very material suited for the hard toil and poor fare of pioneer life. One day there came to the squatter's cabin three Indians, professing to be friendly, who invited him to go out on a hunting excursion with them. As the family subsisted mostly upon game, he finaUy con cluded to accompany them, taking with him his eldest son. They expected to be absent about a week, as they intended to take a somewhat exten sive range. After three days had passed away, one of the Indians returned to the squatter's house, and deUberately lighting his pipe and taking his seat by the fire, he commenced smoking in silence. The wife was not startled at his appearance, as it was frequently the case that one, and sometimes more, of a party of Indian hunters, getting discouraged, would leave the rest and return. This was usually the case when they imagined they discovered some bad sign, and it would not only be useless, but dis astrous, for them to hunt under such circumstances. THE SQUATTER FAMILY. 373 The Indian sat for some time in sullen silence, and at length, removing his pipe from his mouth, he gave a significant grunt to awaken attention, and said, "White man die." The squatter's wife at this replied, "What is the matter?" "He sick, tree faU on him, he die. You go see him." Her suspicions being somewhat aroused at the manner of the savage, she asked him a number of questions. The evasiveness and e-ndent want of consistency in the answers, at length con-vinced her that something was wrong. She judged it best not to go herself, but sent her youngest son, the eldest, as we have seen, having gone on the hunt with his father. Night came, but it brought not the son or the Indian. All its gloomy hours were spent in that lone cabin by the mother and daughter; but morning came without their .return. The whole day passed in the same fi-uitless look-out for the boy; the mother felt grieved that she had sent her child on the errand, but it was now too late. Her suspicions were now confirmed that the Indians had decoyed away her husband and sons. She felt that they would not stop in their evil designs, and that, if they had slain the father and his boys, they would next attack the mother and her daughter. No time was to be lost; and she and her daughter, 374 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. as night was approaching, went to work to barri cade the door and windows of the cabin in the best manner they could. The rifie of the youngest boy was aU the weapon in the house, as he did not take it when he went to seek his father. This was taken from its hangings, and carefully examined to see that it was well loaded and primed. To her daughter she gave the ax, and thus armed, they determined to watch aU night, and, if attacked by the savages, to fight to the last. About midnight they made their appearance, ex pecting to find the mother and daughter asleep, but in this they were disappointed. They approached stealthily, and one of the number knocked loudly at the door, crying, "Mother! mother!" The mother's ear was too acute to be deceived by the -wily savage, and she repUed, ""Where are the In dians, my son?" The answer, "Um gope," would have satisfied her, if she had not been before aware of the deceit. " Come up, my son, and put your ear to the latch- hole. I want to teU you something before I open the door." The Indian applied his ear to the latch-hole. Tlie crack of the rifie followed, and he feU dead. As soon as she fired, she stepped on one side of the door, and immediately two rifle baUs passed through it, either of which would have kUled her. THE SQUATTER FAMILY. 375 "Thank Qod," said the mother in a whisper to her daughter, "there are but two. They are the three that went to hunt with your father, and one of them is dead. If we can only kill or cripple another, we shall be safe. Take courage, my child ; God will not forsake us in this trying hour. We must both be still after they flre again. Supposing they have kiUed us, they will break down the door. I may be able to shoot another one," for in the mean time she had re-loaded the rifle ; " but if I miss, you must use the ax with all your might." The daughter, equally courageous with her mother, assured her that she would do her best. The conversation had scarcely ceased when two more rifle balls came crashing through the window. A death-like stillness ensued for the space of several minutes, when two more balls, in quick succession, came through the door, foUowed by tremendous strokes against it with a heavy stake. At length the door gave way, and an Indian, with a flendish yell, was in the act of springing into the house ; but a ball from the boy's rifle, in the mother's hand, pierced his heart, and he fell dead across the thresh old. The surviving Indian, daring not to venture — and it was well for his skull that he did not — fired at random, and ran away. "Now," said the mother to the daughter, "we must leave ;" and taking the rifie and the ax, tiiey 376 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. hastened to the river, jumped into the canoe, and without a morsel of provision, except a -wild duck, and two blackbirds which the mother shot on the voyage, and which they ate raw, they paddled their canoe down the river until they reached the residence of the French settlers at St. Louis. Some time after, a party of hunters started over into Blinois, and scoured the counfry in every direc tion; but they retumed without finding either the squatter or his boys. Nor have they been heard from to this day. Should the traveler pass by the beautiful city of Peoria, in his Westward wanderings, the old settlers in that neighborhood can point out the spot where stood the cabin of the squatter, so heroical ly defended by his wife and daughter, and who so nobly avenged the death of the father and his sons. The pioneer women of the West, Uke the men, were made of sterner stuff than enters into the com position of most of our modem ladies and gentlemen. They were brave in entering the wildemess, and they showed themselves equally so in grappUng with its difficulties and encountering its perils. "Who has not heard of the heroic Miss Elizabeth Zane, at Fort Henry, in 1777, where the city of Wheeling now stands ? When a large army of savages had been coUected, under the infamous Girty, and had at tacked the fort, having killed in an outside skirmish several officers and men, a fearful crisis had arrived. THE SQUATTER FAMILY. 377 The fort was reduced to but eleven men and boys. The houses ' of the villagers were occupied by the savage foe, who for the moment had ceased hos tiUties, and had withdrawn to the base of the hiU, which rose abruptly and precipitously from the nar row valley. The ammunition of the fort was nearly exhausted ; and the stock must be replenished, or all would faU — men, women, and children — a prey to the merciless savages. About sixty yards distant, at the house of Ebenezer Zane, there was a keg of powder. If that could be procured they would be enabled suc cessfuUy to defend the fort, and keep the Indians at bay. Not a man or boy, for they were almost equally good marksmen, could be spared ; and yet some one must hazard his Ufe in the undertaking. It was the for lorn hope of that little band, and on it their fate was to turn. The commander. Colonel Shepherd, called for a volunteer in this perilous undertaking. Several promptly offered their services, both men and boys ; but they were the bravest of the band, and could least be spared. The difficulty seemed to be not so much in finding the heart stout enough for the fear ful undertaking, but in making the selection. Just - then, up stepped a slender, delicate girl. With the spirit of her noble father, she said to the commander, " I will bring the powder. If I die in the attempt, my loss will not be felt." In vain they strove to dis suade her, as she would most certainly be shot; 378 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. besides, she could not run with the fleetness of a man. AU entieaties were vain, and she heroicaUy exclaimed, " Open the gates, and let me go !" With tearful eyes the gates were opened, and the infrepid girl bounded toward the house. The moment she emerged from the fort she was seen by the Indians, who, instead of flring at her, seemed to be taken by a surprise and astonishment that for a moment suspended their murderous purposes. She reached the house, entered it, secured the desired keg, and started back to the fort. The soul of the heroic girl was in the effort, and bravely it sustained her. As she sped across the space with her burden a dozen rifles were raised, and thefr sharp, simultaneous crack seemed to announce her doom; but she neither fell nor faltered. On with accelerated speed she urged her way; and, passing the gates, she entered the fort in safety. The deed of that brave girl saved the fort; and an advantage was gained over the savages from which they did not recover so as to renew their depredations in future on that frontier outpost. Pioneer Ufe in the West abounds -with incidents of female heroism; and the simple story of their deeds possesses a more thrilUng interest than*ban be infused by the most fervent and fruitful imagination into any scene of flction. '¦'^^ ¦" *^i-=--=!^' i^jli. .'ill ll, ' ¦ ¦SW'S?^''!';, f\i i-' .. ..... y^:^ ¦¦¦¦ m '^z ^1^"^^ THE LOST HUNTER. 381 CHAPTEE XYI. THE LOST HUNTER. " When spring to woods and watera round Brought bloom and joj again, The Western hunter's bones were found Far down a narrow glen." In the Westem wildemess, at an early day, a hunter 'with his family penetrated beyond the settlements in advance of civilization, with a view eventually of effecting a clearing and securing for himself a home. He was young and athletic, and, with his ¦wife, had been reared in the woods. Both were inured to hardships, and they were alike fitted to brave the dangers and endure the ills of a forest Ufe. Having reached their destination, the -wife carrying the child, a fine healthy- boy of one summer's growth, and the hunter his gun, ax, and other articles necessary for Ufe in a camp, they halted in the aftemoon of a balmy day, in Indian summer, on the bank of a sparkling rivulet, in a dense but beautiful forest. The tent, the cloth of which had been made before they started, was soon pitched, and ere night they were safely housed in thefr new home. That night they were 382 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. luUedto- sleep, after their weai-y joumey, by the rip- pUng of the stream over its pebbly bed. Crouched at the door, which was composed of a curtain, as a sen tinel, was the hunter's dog, a large, noble animal, which he had raised expressly for hunting, and whose saga city had proved equal to any emergency to which he had been subjected. Thus opened to that young and enterprising family, life in the then far-distant West. The young husband -with his gun was at no difficulty in securing plenty of game, which roamed unscared in the forest, except by an occasional Indian hunter, who might chance to pass that way hi his winter range. He felled the forest around his cabin, cut and split up the timber for fire wood, cleared out the under-brush, and had, by tbe approach of winter, quite a patch in readiness for planting in the coming spring. Having devoted his attention to clearing while the weather remained good, or at least so that he could work profitably, he had but little time to hunt. But this was not all; he had reared for his Uttle family a cabin composed of such smaU trees and limbs as he was able of himself, with the assistance of his wife, to put in their places. It was small, but it answered every purpose, and being well chinked and daubed, would keep out the wintery blast. Ha-ving, as before remarked, been unable to devote much attention to hunting, his stock of provisions THE LOST HUNTER. 383 had become quite Umited, and it became necessary for him to sally out into the surrounding wUderness to replenish his store. Early one morning, in the beginning of winter, he furnished himself with a piece of jerked venison, and bidding his wife and child good-by, -with the promise of returning in the aftemoon, he started out on a hunt. He traveled several miles without starting any game except a fiock of turkeys, which were too quick of wing to allow a shot. The day, which in the morning had been rather bright for a winter's day, began now to assume a somber and portentous aspect. Dark clouds came drifting up from the West, threatening a -winter storm. He thought of his wife and child, and it was not strange that we imagine such thoughts to possess his mind, when we consider they were left alone in the woods many miles, from human habitation. But they were not entirely alone : the faithful dog had been left to guard them in their solitude. The snow began to descend, and the day was wear ing away, but he was in quest of provision for the loved ones at home, and he pushed on through the forest, heedless of the storm and reckless of danger. At length a large buck sprang from a thicket just in advance of him, and bounded away. The hunter gave chase ; and over rock and crag, and deep ra-vine, and tangled thicket, he pursued it, until, gaining the base of a hill, he directed his course around it, hoping 384 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. to get a shot at the affrighted animal. In this he was fortunate. Not hearing the hunter's feet behind, it stopped on the descent, and the weU-directed aim brought it to the ground. The hunter, deUghted with his success, shouldered his game, and started in the direction of home. The storm, however, began to increase in violence, and the heavens were darkened by the thick fiakes of snow which buiied the earth and the trees in its mantle. On he traveled, but the forest signs by which he was accustomed to find his way were obUterated, and he knew not whither he was traveling. Night was coming on, and he was many miles from home, but that were nothing, did he only know the way thither. The load was heavy, and the depth of the snow had now become so great that he could make but slow progress. He was lost — ^lost in the depths of a dense and dreary forest ; still he wandered on. No sound fell upon his ear but the moaning winds, which, like a funeral dirge, added to the gloom. With the storm the cold increased ; and the snow-crystals, sharpened by the frost, were like so many stings to the hunter's face. Over rock, and through glen and thicket he urged his way, nerved by thoughts of home. All burdens and hardships are Ught, and readily endured, for those we love ; and the poor hunter, though lost, was stiU not destitute of hope that he might find his home. The brave, stout heart, however, could not THE LOST HUNTER. 385 sustain the weary and benumbed frame. Nature, overtasked, at last must sink beneath her load. A chiUness comes over him as the piercing wind scat ters its frosts around; and the exliausted traveler, unable to proceed any further, sinks down beneath his burden, at the foot of a tree, in a deep, nan-ow glen. He was too far gone to recover himself, and he yielded to his fate. It is said a wild but delicious delirium seizes the mind of those who are on the point of freezing to death ; and, if so, it may not be too great a stretch of the imagination to suppose that the lost man dreamed of his quiet cabin, and the joys of his peace ful home, and, in the language of the poet, though " Reason forsook her shatter'd throne, He dream'd that summer hours Again around him hrightly shone, In sunshine, leaves, and flo-wers ; Again the fresh, greeii, forest sod, Kifle in hand, he lightly trod. He heard the deer's low bleat; Or, couoh'd within the shado-wy nook. Was luU'd by music of the brook, That murmur'd at his feet. " It changed ; his cabin roof o'erspread, Eafter, and wall, and chair, Gleam'd in the crack'ling flre that shed Its warmth, and he was there ; 886 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. His wife had clasp'd his hand, and now Her gentle kiss was on his brow, His child was prattling by ; The dog couch'd dozing near the door. And through the pane, frost-pictured o'er. He saw the white drifts fly. " That pass'd ; before his swimming sight Does not a flgure bound? And a soft voice, with -wUd delight. Proclaim the lost is found? No, hunter, no ! 'tis but the streak Of whirling snow — the tempest shriek- No human aid is near ! Never again that form will meet Thy clasp'd embrace ; those accents sweet Speak music to thine ear !" The hunter and his victim lay side by side in the icy arms of death ; and ere the morning broke over that dreary forest they were inclosed in a winding- sheet of snow. It were vain to search for the lost amid the ruins of such a storm. Nor until spring came and melted away the snow, and brought its leaves and flowers, did a brother hunter flnd his bones, and bear to the heart-broken widow the sad news of his death, and the only mementoes that were left, his rifle and his knife. THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 387 CHAPTEE XYH. THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. It was a cold, wet day in April. The wind sighed and moaned through the tiees, and the driving rain came down, pitUessly drenching the tender buds that but yesterday were swollen, well-nigh to bursting, with a new and buoyant life. Anon the heavy drops were changed to large snow flakes, which alighted in the very bosoms of the bright-eyed hepatica, the star- flowered bloodroot, and bowed still lower the modest heads of the erythronium. An early spring, and a long succession of bright, Wisconsin suns, had called these out somewhat earlier than their wont ; but they found that, if winter had not "lingered in the lap of spring," he had come back to bid her a very boister ous adieu, and, in doing so, he forgot not to tread on the Uttle ones. " See there, ma'am, if there aint a man and woman on horseback, witii an umbrell ;" and the next mo ment no less than four little tow-heads were crowded into the six-paned window of the cabin, with the mother's head above them all, gazing at the stran- 388 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. gers ; and when the latter were out of sight from the window, the "young 'uns" ran out in the rain, and watched them away down the ra-sdne, in spite of re peated injunctions to "come into the heouse" and " shut that cm- door." A few minutes after " dad" came in with a neigh bor, saying that he had just met the " elder," as he caUed the circuit preacher, taking his daughter to be "inspected," in order to teach their school that sum mer. Then followed some conjecturing as to whethei she would get a certiflcate. "Git a sirtificate ? Of course she -will ! She is one of the smartest teachers in the country. They are going to give her a dollar and twelve and a half cents a week, and that's more than they have ever gin a schoolma'am afore." " Yes ; but you know Dr. Dean has to do all the examining. He lives down to Woupekon, and they don't want us to have any school here, because they aint going to have any do'wn there; they are too stingy to have a school, and they are afraid that we shall git the start on 'em." " O, they git eout ! It's of no use for them to be so mighty smart ; they han't got the nateral advant ages that we have, no how they can fix it." And then foUowed a long string of reasons, aU pro and none con., why this particular "settlement" was a " leetle ahead" of any other for some miles around, THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 389 to say nothing of the advantages which they enjoyed over those who Uved in IlUnois or Michigan, or any other state East or South. As for the West, they supposed that there were some nice situations out in Iowa, where nobody had " gone in ;" and the o'wner of the cabin rather thought that he should try his luck out there before long. Neighbors were getting " a 'most too thick here ; he'd thought so ever since Jones had come in a mile below him." For his part, he did not Uke to be crowded. He would not want to Uve in such a place as it was down at the viUage, where you could stand in your o'wn door and see half a dozen houses, aU in the same " clearin'." It -will be readily perceived that our log-cabin man was a specimen of the genuine Yankee pioneer, a character, it must be confessed, quite rare in North em Wisconsin. The pioneers of that countiy were the Canadian French, whose settlements were com menced as early as the first half of the eighteenth century. Their descendants stiU remain, a mingled race of half-breeds, that, with a few honorable excep tions, do no credit to their iUustrious ancestors, either by their enterprise or intelUgence, The tide of immigration here from the Eastem states, unlike that of the states further South, came on, when it did begin, witii a rush that mostly swal lowed up its own pioneers, instead of ever bearing tiiem forward and casting them upon the further 24 390 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. shore of civiUzation. That may be partly accounted for in the fact that this northem region was, till within a short time, supposed to be inhospitably cold. In stances are not wanting -within the last twenty yeai-s where immigrants have found it almost impossible to convince their friends, who yet lingered behind, that Indian com actuaUy grew rankly and ripened in one season, yielding an ample harvest, in central Wis consin. And it is credibly stated that, a little longer since, official instructions were given to a government officer, en route for Green Bay, to go from Milwaukie thither by sleighing m the month of May. When these illusions were dispelled, and it became kno-wn that a fair and fertile country, beautifully variegated with prairie and woodland, and of a warmer cUmate than the same latitudes East, was all unappropriated, the tide of Eastem emigration set in this direction. At this time the Erie Canal, and soon afterward the Central Eaifroad, were in fuU opera tion, and semi-weekly lake steamers swept the whole Michigan shore of the new Eden, thus affording opportunities for its rapid settlement which few other Western states could boast. Taking these things into account, it is not surprising that its settlers presented tiaces of unusual refinement at a very early period. Coming by water, they could and did bring thefr furniture with them ; the same facilities brought their weekly newspapers and their letters, and thus they THB WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 391 were never shut out so completely from Eastei-n civil ization, and left to grow barbarous, as they would imder more unfavorable circumstances. This may explain the appearance of refinement in the school mistress, who was usually, as " do-wn East," the daugh ter of the farmer, and who there considers it a neces sary finish to her education to teach school a year or two before getting married. (Yide Miss Lyon.) Thus it is evident that the points we are to trace must be the peculiarities that privation would induce, and the energies which the circumstances would naturally develop. Accordingly, we find one Mary Catlin prompt to her engagement, and, determined to avoid giving a pretext for a ruse, starting out on this unpleasant day to meet the town commissioners. It was a long, weary ride on the crupper, ten miles, across bare, feinceless prairies, through cross-cuts and byways, to shorten the route ; but the log-cabin of the second commissioner, the appointed place of meeting, was at last in sight. It must be confessed that Mary dreaded a formal examination, and, indeed, it was not usual to have anything critical on such occasions, unless rivalry or some similar cause de manded it. Take, for example, Mary's first examination, the previous summer, conducted, as usual, by a Dr., (mind, we did not say an M. Z).,) which character was supposed to embody about as much profound 392 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. learning as any other indi-vidual corporation in a new countiy, not even excepting the ge'neral run of those land-sharks who pompously placarded them selves as "Attorneys at Law;" for the West, even at an early date, was by no means deficient in this very important element of (tiouble in) society. But in the case referred to, the worthy doctor had evidently grown rusty on the "rudiments," and the examination consisted of a few common-place ques tions on geography and arithmetic, and an attempt at orthography, which, after proceeding as far as the number of letters in the alphabet and their divisions, was rounded off with a laugh, and the remark that he beUeved he had "reaUy forgotten the fore-part of the spelUng-book!" Meanwhile, to answer the requirements of the law and append his name to the certificate, there sat by a burly Dutchman, who could hardly comprehend a whole sentence in English; and, the examination finished, they "serf^ified that Miss Mary Catlin waa qualified to teach a comon school !" In the present case it would not be so, for Dr. Dean had taught school himself, which was an argument to the point. MeanwhUe, tiiey arrived at the house, after go ing away up hiU, through a pair of bars, and tnen away do-wn around a swamp. A cordial welcome from the inmates of the cottage, and a smoking din- THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 393 ner, awaited them; the latter more remarkable for its savoriness, abundance, and the generous hospitality with which it was offered, than for its variety; though Westerners, after a year or two, generally live one or two thirds better than they did "down East." The conversation at dinner led to mutual congratula tions on the excellent promise of educational pri-vi- leges to be enjoyed in their state that was to be, and ended with the satisfied assurance of every one that they were really among the most fortunate beings in the world, simply because they had become badgers. Dinner being ended, in due time the momentous subject was infroduced, and it soon became evident that Dr. Dean intended to discharge his duty consci entiously; for he questioned the young lady up hill and down, on all the ordinary branches of education, and some of the extraordinary. He certainly thought it necessary to impress her duly -with the fact that she could not and did not know too much for a school teacher, both of which convictions, he considered, would be best brought about by a due display of his own superior knowledge. Although she could not answer all the questions that he propounded, yet he discovered her to be so much better qualified than many of the dollar and six-shilUng girls that he would be obUged to pass, that it would not answer to refuse her a certificate, even if he felt disposed. to gratify local prejudices. So, after giving some very 394 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. good ad'vice, he ended by gayly saying, "Now, Miss Catlin, I will give you a certificate if you can tell me which side of a shirt wristband to put the button-hole in." A general laugh followed, which was heightened by her quick reply, " O, on the right side, of course !" and the certificate was made out forthwith. In selecting our model, we may not have taken the most common type of the Westem schoolmistress. The universal schoolmistress that we used to see in our childish days, was young, somewhere between fifteen and eighteen, romping and wild, though good- hearted enough; by some chance yet unmarried, but by no chance without a beau to take her to parties, hops, and huskings. She had enjoyed all the advant ages of a district school in the -winter since she was twelve years old; and now — well, she made no secret of it, and I see no reason why I should — the gist of the matter was, she was to be married in the fall ; and -while her "feller" was "breaking up" a few acres, and chinking his cabin for the winter, she must teach a three-months' school somewhere, as the only chance at her command for getting a little money to buy her a smart wedding gown, and a table, or a high-post bedstead, or a looking glass, or something of the kind, as a sort of an apology for the setting-out that her poor squatter father, with his half a dozen children, could not give her. This was before the days in which Governor Slade commenced sending out teachers THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 395 into Wisconsin, or we might have given you a da guerreotype of a schoolmistress by profession, and a matrimonial-alliance hunter by practice, for as such these self-denying women are looked upon all through the West. But Mary Catlin, as we remember her, had the spirit of the genuine educator, and her character was not without its duplicates even in the new settlements of Wisconsin. She saw the necessity of mental and moral development in herself, and in others, and, as the surest mode of securing both, she turned her attention to teaching. As example is great beyond aU other infiuences, so her earnest thirst for knowledge infused itself even into the young minds that attended the summer school; and long afterward did the mothers tell, to the annoy ance of transient teachers, how fast Jim and Mat leamed the summer that they went to school to Mary Catlin. But not the least of Mary's qualifications were her energy and promptitude, for without these she would have effected little. In the commotion inci dent to making a new home, to selecting and secur ing a desirable "eighty" or quarter section, to neighborhood rivafries in securing for this or that place the school-house, the post-office, the court house, or even the direction of the plank-road, to say nothing of locating and laying out city and viUage 396 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. plots; all of these were of such vital importance, as affecting the "future interests of the country," as to keep individuals, and community in general, in a state of perpetual excitement; and no smaU amount of long-headedness and sharp-sightedness was required to see through and steer through aU these conflicting interests. Then woe be to the poor feUow whose wits failed him in the crisis ! He was sure to go under, and he might about as well go back East at once. But what has aU this to do with the schoolmistress? Much every way, but especiaUy with the ground on which was based the general estimate of any person's abiUties, and his consequent social standing and influence. And now for examples of Mary's energy. Does the log school-house want cleaning before Mary can com mence the summer school? She boldly heads the little band that have come to help her, and it is done up in a trice. Does the house look dreary, as it stands on a comer where two ways meet, with no tree near it, and no fence, except one to shut it out from the green fields, with its high windows sprinkled with shingle-panes, and its high slab-benches and rickety writing-tables? She makes the best of it ; allows that land is too scarce in a new country, or, at least, that it will one day be too valuable to waste much on a school-house site, and that shade- trees might rot the roof, or blow over upon it, and so THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 397 she has it kept nicely brushed out -with the cedar- broom, and the waUs tiimmed with fresh branches of oak leaves, until the children really love the once unin-viting place. Are the houses in the district scat tered, and many of the patrons li-ving at the distance of one and a half or two miles? Mary does not play the lady, but boards out her full quota of time at each place, though she sometimes thinks to herself that she would Uke to know who first invented "boarding round." She considers that he deserved a premium of some kind. Were some of her homes not quite so neat as they might be ? She made no faces, but took her dose quietly, although some of her places for repose might be so uncom fortable as to induce a belief in the story boldly asserted by some Western housekeepers, that bugs grow wild in the woods ! In going across lots, does she rend her dress sadly in scaling a seven-railed fence? or does she slip off the little two-poled bridge into the black, mucky bot tom of the creek two feet deep ? She takes it coolly turns her course at once toward her temporary home; and is dressed and at school before the time. This readiness for emergencies gained for her a confidence, and commanded a respect that she could not otherwise have enjoyed; and in no in stance was the truth of this more fully verified than ¦with regard to the devotional exercises of Mary's 398 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. school. She had previously been in the habit of opening school by reading the Scriptures and prayer. On coming here, she leamed that one Mr. Gray, an influential man in school matters, had openly opposed one of the winter teachers in ha-ving devo tional exercises in school, and obliged him to desist. This man was formerly a Hicksite, now an infidel, and read the Age of Eeason instead of the Bible. What was to be done ? She concluded that if they put her out of the school for that, she could leave, with the blessing of God, but she could not remain without it. That resolution taken, she entered school the first moming, and, after kindly greetings aU around, she talked to them so sensibly and so lov ingly about their object in coming there, and the best means of attaining that object, and the necessity of asking the blessing of God on all that was to be done, that there was not a thoughtless face in the room; and when she said, "Let us pray," every little knee was bowed. After this, by her proposal, they gladly came every morning at a quarter before nine, to read their Testaments and listen to Mary's eamest prayer before the regular hour for com mencing the duties of the day. Against this arrangement Mr. Gray could find nothing to say, as the children came of thefr o-wn accord, and his among the number. It is by no means our intention to detail the THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 399 occurrences of the summer, but one more scene and we have done. We have not explained why Mary CatUn, at the age of twenty, was yet unmarried, a very imcommon occurrence just at that stage of new country progress. Neither did she often have a beau, and some said that she carried her head too high. Perhaps the young men thought so too; for one bit of Yankee shrewd ness and self-importance they must have the credit, they never adventured themselves far without being pretty sure of their footing. Then, too, they wanted house-keepers right away, if at all, and they had not much time to waste in playing the gallant, but drove away at those they thought themselves likeliest to get without much trouble. No doubt many a young farmer would have sought Mary's hand, but she had other thoughts. Getting a "Ukely young man" was not so much in her mind, as being suitably qualified to discharge any of the great re sponsibilities of life that might fall to her share, so that she was in no haste ; but more than all the rest, no one had looked into her heart or stirred its depth of feeling. Mary was quite a Uttle botanist in her way; she had picked up an old treatise on Flora somewhere, and this summer especially, in the pursuit of this study, her genuine love of nature rose to a perfect enthusiasm. Fearlessly she roamed the woods, the 400 PIONEERS OF THE WEST. prairies, and the openings, aU alone, and culled many a beautiful wild flower, and then sat do-wn to find its name and nature. And if by chance she succeeded, how tenderly would she caress the little thing, and call it her new friend. Others, she said, might gather it for a momentary nosegay, or pass it by unheeded ; but she would always call its name, and recognize its hidden nature. And this was the deepest sympathy the lone girl knew for any created thing. One night upon going to one of her many homes, with her old Botany, and her arms full of fiowers as usual, she found Mr. Winslow there. She had afready formed some slight acquaintance with him; he was the last winter's teacher, a man of such refinement and gentleness of manner, as could but win her esteem. "You seem quite fond of flowers. Miss Catlin," he said pleasantly. " Indeed I am," was the reply. " I call them my Uttle friends ; all the friends that I have." " All the friends that you have ?" echoed he. " Yes, heart friends, I mean," she returned apolo getically; but she blushed a conscious acknowledg ment that she had not mended the matter, and her eye feU beneath his eamest responsive gaze. "You deserve more sympathizing friends than these," said he, with tenderness ; and then, sUently THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 401 taking a -wild rose, he wore it in his button-hole the remainder of the evening. This was far from being the last evening that they spent together. He, too, tumed botanist; and the topics of their conversation were in endless variety. Natural science, poetry, school-teaching, and human nature, they never wearied of, and on all tiiese topics their views and feeUngs were so much aUke, that interchange of thought became only a source of the most refined pleasure to the unsophisticated Mary. But their evident regard for each other soon became a matter of neighborhood gossip, and the coarse jokes that were passed grated harshly on her sensitive ear. In the course of time, however, these jokes had their iisual injurious effect. Was he not indeed very attentive to her ? she asked herself Were they not one heart and one soul, and would it not be weU to secure such a friend? True, he was not professedly reUgious. They had never conversed on that sub ject; she had not the courage to mention it ; but she did really think that he must be pious at heart ; at all events, he was very moral outwardly. Yet, in spite of her reasoning, there were misgi-vings witiiin on this important subject. Thus the summer passed away. Bro-wn autumn came, and spread the prairies over -witii the golden rod, and dotted the openings with the blue gentian, and fiUed the wood with innumerable asters. The 402 PIONEERS OP THE WEST. summer school had closed. Mary would go home to-morrow, and as yet Henry, for so she loved to call him to herself, had not said one tender word about their parting. Could it be that he did not care for her? What meant all the earnest glances of those deep, serious eyes? Were they truthful? She scarcely harbored a doubt, and yet there had been a touch of coldness in his manner toward her that day. It was in the dusk of evening, and Mary stood thus thoughtfully among the wild shrubbery of the yard. The road was concealed from her sight, but she heard her o-wn name mentioned by some one passing ; it was Mr. Winslow's voice, in an undertone. " I Uke that Mary Catlin," said he to his companion, " and if I had not told any one about here that I was a married man, I'd make her an offer." And the two entered the house, but Mary stood still. An hour passed, and another; she did not come in, and so they departed. Could we scan that little gi-ove near by, in the faint star-light we might discern the bowed form of the smitten one, but we -will not tiespass on her retirement. Most fortunate would it be for our Western girls, if the antecedents of their suitors' Uves were always found out even so early in the day as in the present case ; but the difficulties that often prevent any in vestigations in the matter, together with their ear nestness and love of change, led on by the enterprise THE WISCONSIN SCHOOLMA'AM. 403" which is a part of their very being, often plunge them into unwritten disasters. But what became of Mary? Well, she neither drowned hei-self, took prussic acid, nor ate poisonous berries. No, no ; she had too much good sense to do any such thing. Besides, women are not plenty enough out West ; they cannot afford to throw them selves away. I am afraid that you will not think it romantic, but I will tell you. She took the Pioneer's Universal Sanative — went further West. She taught school a couple of years upon the Iowa bank of the Mississippi, and then married a widower with chil dren. Well, poor man ! he had just come on from the East. His wife had died soon after his arrival here ; he had left all his friends behind ; strangers were very kind to him, but they all had children enough of their own to care for ; was not our Mary a godsend to him ? And then he was a worthy, sensible, pious, and reUable man, one whom she certainly could respect. And her cheerful devotedness to him and his, and the happy, contented look which she wears to this day, will tell you, if you are -wilUng to see it, that she does more than respect, she reverences also. Meantime her foster children, with her o-wn, have arisen up to call her blessed ; and the eldst of them now occupies a seat in the legislature of his adopted state. THE END. it «?» ^1. / r