The Life and Times of Col. Daniel Boone, Hunter, Soldier, and Pioneer

It being midsummer, they did not suffer from cold, and but for their terror of their ultimate fate, they would have cared nothing for the jaunt. Still, as children will feel under such circumstances, they had strong hopes that their parents and friends would soon be in close pursuit of the Indians.

And such indeed was the case. For it was not long before the girls were missed at Boonesborough, and search made for them. Some one had seen them in the canoe, and when it was discovered that the boat was left on the opposite side of the river, and when the keen eyes of the pioneers were able to detect the imprint of moccasins along the shore where the craft had been moored on their side, there could be no doubt of what it meant.

The girls had been captured and carried away by Indians.

It can be well understood that great excitement spread among the families of Boonesborough, all of whom were drawn together by the closest ties of friendship, and who shared in each other's joys and woes. The whole male force were ready to start at a moment's notice to the rescue.

But that was not the way in which to secure them, for it would have been equally effective for a hunting party to go in search of the timid antelope with drums and banners. What was needed was a small company of hunters, brave, swift of foot, clear-headed and skilled in the ways of the woods.

They should be men who could trail the red Indian where the imprints of his moccasined feet were invisible to ordinary eyes, and who, when the critical emergency should come, were sure to do just the right thing at the right time.

There were plenty such in Boonesborough, and there could be no difficulty in finding them. At the head, of course, stood Daniel Boone himself, and he selected seven others who could be relied on in any emergency; but, by the time the pursuit could be begun, the shades of night were settling over wood and river, and it was out of the question to attempt anything like an intelligent search for the girls.

In such a case there is no basis for reasoning, for though it may seem certain to the veteran hunter that his enemy has taken a certain course in order to reach his distant lodge, yet the morning is likely to show that he has gone on a different route altogether.

The American Indian, who is educated from his infancy in cunning and treachery, is likely to do that which is least expected and provided against; and Boone, therefore, did not make the mistake of acting upon any theory of his own which was likely to cause him to lose many precious hours of pursuit.

But it was the season when the days were longest, and at the earliest streakings of the morning light, the eight pioneers were on the other side of the river, looking for the trail of the Indians.

The delicate imprints were discovered almost instantly by the keen-eyed hunters, who started on the scent like bloodhounds, eager to spring at the throats of the savages.

But the pursuit was scarcely begun, when they were confronted by the very difficulty which they anticipated.

The Indians, as we have shown, had separated and made their way through the thickest cane with such extreme care, that they succeeded in hiding their trail from the lynx eyes of even Boone himself.

In such an emergency, the pursuers could only fall back on their own resources of calculation and observation.

They noticed that the tracks all pointed in one general direction, and there was, therefore, a basis for deciding the side of the cane where they emerged. Acting upon this theory, they made a circuitous journey of fully thirty miles, and sure enough, struck the trail just as they hoped rather than expected.

Boone showed his woodcraft now by forming a reasonable theory and acting promptly upon it, for, though he may have been right, still he would have lost all the advantage by a failure to follow it up instantly.

Recalling the unusual precautions taken by the Indians to throw their pursuers off their trail, Boone was convinced that the savages would believe that these precautions had accomplished their purpose, and they would therefore relax their vigilance. Their course, as a consequence, would be followed more easily.

Accordingly, Boone and his comrades changed the route they were following, with the idea of crossing the path of the Indians. They had not gone far when they discovered it in a buffalo path, where it was quite evident that, from the careless manner in which the red-men were traveling, they had no suspicion of their pursuers being anywhere in the vicinity.

This was favorable to Boone and his companions, but they understood the delicacy and danger of the situation, which was of that character that they might well tremble for its success, even with the great advantage gained.

None knew better than they the sanguinary character of the American Indian. The very moment the captors should see that it was impossible to retain the prisoners, they would sink their tomahawks in their brains, even though the act increased their own personal peril tenfold.

It was all-important that the pursuit should be vigorously pressed, and at the same time it was equally important that the savages should be kept in ignorance of the men who were trailing them so closely.

As silently, therefore, as shadows, the pioneers, with their guns at a trail, threaded their way through the forest and dense canebrakes. Their keen and trained vision told them they were gaining rapidly upon the Indians, who were proceeding at that leisurely gait which was proof that they held no suspicion of danger.

The settlers had already traveled a long distance, and even their iron limbs must have felt the effects of journeying full forty miles through the wilderness, – but they pushed on with renewed vigor, and, as the day advanced, observed signs which showed unmistakably that they were close upon the captors.

The pursuers slackened their gait and advanced with the extremest caution, for only by doing so could they hope to succeed in the rescue of the young girls.

Suddenly the figures of the warriors were discerned through the trees a short distance ahead. They had stopped, and were in the act of kindling a fire, evidently meaning to encamp for the night. The Indians were startled at the same moment by sight of the whites hurrying toward them, and not one of the dusky red-skins could misunderstand what it meant. Had it been possible for such a misunderstanding, they were undeceived the next instant.

The pursuers showed their earnestness by not waiting a moment for the warriors to rally, but four bringing their rifles to their shoulders, took a quick aim and fired into the party. The smoke of the powder had scarcely time to curl upward from the muzzles of the guns, when the whole eight charged straight into camp on a dead run, and with the fury of tigers.

When the Indians saw those figures coming, they had no time to slay the amazed captives, but, snatching up only one of their guns, they scattered pell-mell for the wood. As they went at headlong haste, Boone and one of his men fired, while still on a dead run. Each fugitive was "hit hard," but he managed to get away in the gathering darkness, and it may safely be concluded that none of the survivors looked upon that particular expedition against the settlers at Boonesborough in any other light than a failure.

The joy of the three girls over the rescue must be left to the imagination of the reader. They were terrified almost out of their senses when captured, but they knew they would soon be missed from home, and their friends would be on the trail, but they were old enough to understand the vast disadvantages under which they would be placed, knowing that no pursuit could be instituted until the morrow.

And then, too, they knew the meaning of the extreme precaution taken by the Indians in separating and walking so carefully through the densest of the canebrakes. And, as mile after mile was placed behind them, and the warm summer day drew to a close, many a misgiving must have saddened their hearts, as they looked through the gathering shadows and failed to see anything of the loved forms.

But they had come, bursting into camp like thunderbolts, – the Indians had fled in terror, and the girls were restored to their friends without a hair of their heads being harmed.

The place where the recapture took place was thick with cane, and some of the pursuers would have been glad to keep on and inflict further chastisement upon the Indians, – but that was impracticable, and, as the girls were out of danger, the party turned about and started back toward Boonesborough, where they arrived without mishap or further adventure, and where, as may well be supposed, their return created joy and thanksgiving throughout the entire settlement.

This incident, one of the most romantic of the innumerable occurrences of the border, possessed a significance which some of the settlers failed to see. The presence of the Indians so near Boonesborough and the daring abduction was not done by what may be called an irresponsible company of warriors. On the contrary, they were one of the many scouting parties sent out to make observations of all the settlements along the border, with a view of organizing a combined movement against them.

The agents of England, who had been so industriously at work for months with the Indians of the West, used means which at last accomplished their purpose, and, while hostilities were being pushed with such vigor in the East against the struggling colonies, it threatened to assume a more desperate and sanguinary character in the West.

The red men had been aroused to action, and their manner of warfare was as fierce and merciless as that prosecuted by the East India Sepoys, nearly a century later, against Great Britain. It was not long before the danger was plainly seen, and so profound was the fear excited by the surety of the coming war, attended, as it was certain to be, by the most atrocious massacres, that hundreds of speculators made all haste to leave the imperiled country and return to their former homes in the East.

CHAPTER IX

General Uprising of the Indians – The Border Rangers – Attack upon Boonesborough – Repulse of the Assailants – Second Attack by a Larger Force and its Failure – Arrival of Forty-five Men – Investment of Logan's Fort – Timely Arrival of Colonel Bowman with Reinforcements – Attack upon Harrodsburg

There was a deliberation and completeness in the preparations of the Indians against the settlements along the western border which, if possible, lent additional terrors to the danger that was soon to break upon them.

The scouts who came in to Boonesborough, Harrodsburg, and other points, from their long journeys through the forest, reported the tribes everywhere making ready for the warpath. There were gatherings at their towns, councils, turbulent assemblies, throwing of the tomahawk, shooting matches, running races, and that general excitement which to the experienced forest ranger can mean but the one thing.

The months passed, the breaking out of hostilities was delayed, and immigrants kept dropping in, as may be said, until the month of July, 1777, when nearly fifty men came in one company and settled in the immediate vicinity of Boonesborough.

This was a most welcome addition indeed, for it was evident to all that the hour was at hand when every arm would be needed in the defence of their homes and firesides.

Boone knew what was going on among the surrounding tribes, and he threw away no chances and neglected no precautions. His vigilant sentinels were always on duty, day and night, and nothing was more certain than that the garrison could not be taken by surprise.

Besides this, Kenton, Brady, M'Clelland, the McAfee Brothers, and other rangers, were constantly moving over the long stretches of forest, making tours of observation to the Indian villages and gathering points, so that no excuse existed for the whites being surprised.

In the month of April, 1777, the sentinels at Boonesborough discovered suspicious signs in the woods immediately surrounding them. The signals and moving figures showed that a large body of Indians were gathering in front of the stockades, and there could be no doubt that an attack was intended upon the station.

The settlers were ready, and when the red men opened fire, they received such a fierce fusillade in return, that no doubt could exist as to the injury inflicted. The Indian fights from the bushes and hidden places, and is at disadvantage when he is forced to attack a foe who is equally protected.

From behind the trees the warriors aimed their rifles, and the flashes of flame here, there, and everywhere among the green vegetation, showed where they stood, with their black eyes sighting along the barrels, waiting to fire at whatever point showed any probability of exposing a white enemy to their accurate aim.

But beyond the stockades and in the blockhouses were the Kentucky riflemen, whose unerring aim, whose steady nerve and cool courage have never been surpassed, and whose skill in the use of their favorite weapon has made them renowned throughout the world.

Their guns were thrust out of the loopholes, and the pioneers seized the first chance offered, no matter how slight.

Perhaps the jet of fire behind some tree or among some dense bushes disclosed nothing of the warrior who caused it, but an instant later, maybe, the bronzed face of the Indian was cautiously exposed for a single instant, as he peered out to see the result of his carefully-aimed shot.

That second was enough, for the half dozen Kentuckians watched for just such an opportunity, and like lightning the sharp, whiplike crack of as many rifles broke the stillness, and the red skin rolled over backward, his skull riddled by bullets, while the smoke of his own gun was curling upward from its muzzle, and the death-yell trembled half uttered on his coppery lips.

The Indians killed one settler and wounded four others, while it was never known how many of their own number were shot. They fought bravely, but soon saw they had attempted an impossibility and withdrew.

Boone knew better than to believe this was the end. On the contrary, he and his comrades were convinced it presaged more serious danger to the settlement.

In this supposition he was right, for on the great national anniversary following, the Indians reappeared with fully double their former force, and began what was intended as a regular siege of Boonesborough.

It is not to be supposed the red-men knew or had any idea of the associations connected with that particular date, for the Declaration of Independence was just a year old; but the fourth of July is not a fortunate day for a foe to assail an American force, and so it proved in this instance, for the whole attack and its result was but a repetition of that of three months previous.

The Indians fought with great courage, accepting every chance offered, and killing one man and wounding four, precisely as they did in April.

The vigilant Kentuckians saw seven of the warriors drop before their fire, and it is not improbable that others were slain or at least wounded. The fight was kept up with little intermission for two days and nights, at the expiration of which time the assailants became convinced that no hope of success remained to them, and they drew off as before.

Thus it came to pass that Boonesborough, while in its very infancy, underwent two fierce attacks from the Indians.

Immediately after the second, came the forty-five men from the East, and no further disturbance or molestation took place during that year, which was one of great material advancement on the part of the settlement. Those who joined it continued to be of the right material, and they came with the ambition to rear themselves homes in the western wilderness, where their families could live in comfort and safety.

The first step necessary, and in fact about all the steps necessary, could be summed up in the single word —work.

And they put forth all their energies toward clearing broad spaces of the surrounding forest, and putting the rich virgin soil under cultivation. It was of that fertile, vigorous nature that it but needed the opportunity to bring forth, some a sixty and some a hundred fold.

It was like that of the famous Green Isle of the sea, – "Tickle it with a straw, and it would laugh a harvest."

Meantime the other stations and settlements were given a taste of Indian warfare and peril. Logan's Fort was invested by a large force of Indians in the month of May, 1777, and it was placed in imminent danger, for it was not so strong as Harrodsburg or Boonesborough, and the investing red-skins were overwhelming in numbers.

The siege continued for several days and nights, during which it became plainer and plainer that the warriors were certain to subdue it, in which case the garrison would be put to death.

But at the very hour when despair was settling over the hearts of the brave defenders, Colonel Bowman appeared with a re-enforcement, and the Indians were scattered like chaff in the wind.

Two months previous the fort at Harrodsburg was attacked, but the savages were bravely resisted, and they retired with a slight loss, having wounded four of the whites, one of whom afterward died.

CHAPTER X

A Diner out – The "Hannibal of the West" – Election of General Clark and Gabriel Jones as Delegates to the Virginia Legislature – Their Journey to the Capital – General Clark obtains the Loan of a Large Supply of Ammunition – Erection of the County of Kentucky – General Clark attacked and pursued by Indians on his Voyage down the Ohio – Conceals the Ammunition and delivers it safely at the Border Stations – General Clark marches upon Kaskaskia and captures the obnoxious Governor Rocheblave – Governor Hamilton of Detroit organizes an Expedition against the Settlements – General Clark captures Fort St. Vincent and takes Governor Hamilton a Prisoner – Captures a Valuable Convoy from Canada and Forty Prisoners – Secures the Erection of Important Fortifications by Virginia

One day a boy sixteen years old, who lived four miles above Harrodsburg, went out in the woods to hunt game. The name of the lad was Ray, and he afterward became the General of that name who is so closely identified with the settlement of the West.

Like all boys in Kentucky he was a good shot, and he was not out long before he brought down a small blue-wing duck, which he picked, dressed, and roasted to a rich, juicy brown, building his fire on the brow of a hill, a few rods east of his home.

Just as young Ray had gotten the bird in a shape to delight the palate of an epicure, a fine, soldierly-looking man came out of the woods and called in a cheery voice:

"How do you do, my young man?"

The boy looked up in surprise and said —

"I am very well, sir, thank you."

"What is your name?"

"Ray, and I live in the house down yonder."

"Ain't you afraid to hunt alone in the woods, when the Indians are making so much trouble?"

"Well, I try to be careful, but there is danger in these times everywhere, as it seems to me; but won't you help me eat this duck which is now ready for the table?"

"I'm obliged to you, for I am quite hungry."

Accordingly he sat down and attacked the duck, which he remarked was very toothsome, especially when a person was so a-hungered as he, and complimenting the boy upon his culinary skill, he kept at work until there wasn't a particle left for young Ray, who was somewhat astonished and not altogether enthusiastic over the style in which his visitor disposed of the bird.

"But," said General Ray afterward, "he would have been welcome to all the game I could have killed, when I afterward became acquainted with his noble and gallant soul."

When the meal was finished, the visitor thanked the lad for his hospitality and said:

"My name is Clark, and I have come out to see what you brave fellows are doing in Kentucky, and to give you a helping hand if necessary."

Young Ray conducted him to Harrodsburg, where he spent some time in carefully noting the capacity of the station in the way of defence against the attacks that were pretty certain to be made very soon.

The gentleman was General George Rogers Clark, who at the time was a Major in the Army, and was engaged in forming his grand scheme for the conquest of the British posts in the Northwest. He was one of the most conspicuous figures of the times, and is known in history as the "Hannibal of the West."

The first visit which he made to the frontier was in 1775, when he spent several days at Harrodsburg. His military genius was so well known that the command of the irregular troops in Kentucky was given him. He remained in the West until autumn, when he went back to Virginia, but returned to Kentucky the succeeding year, which was the occasion of his introduction to the embryo General Ray, as we have just related.

At a public meeting of the settlers at Harrodsburg, held on the 6th of June, 1775, General George Rogers Clark and Gabriel Jones were chosen to represent the territory in the Colony of Virginia. The all-important point at that critical juncture was whether Virginia would consider the colony under her protection and render her the assistance she needed against the combinations of the Indians.

It will be borne in mind that Colonel Henderson claimed Kentucky by virtue of purchase from the Cherokees, and if such claim was recognized, then no protection could be demanded from Virginia, no more than from Pennsylvania. In General Clark's judgment the wiser course was for the people to appoint agents with the power to negotiate with Virginia, and in the event of the State refusing to acknowledge the claim of the colony upon her, then General Clark proposed to use the lands of Kentucky as a fund with which to obtain settlers and establish an independent State. The sovereign people had determined otherwise, and with many misgivings as to their recognition, General Clark and his colleague set out for the capital of Virginia.

The way was long, and there were no public conveyances of which to take advantage. When they reached Williamsburg, the legislature had adjourned sine die. Thereupon Gabriel Jones made his way to the settlements on the Holston, while General Clark, with the resolution to accomplish something for the imperiled settlers on the frontier, proceeded to the home of Governor Henry, who was lying sick in his room.

The Governor was so impressed by the statements of Clark, that he gave him a letter to the Executive Council of the State, and, with this document, the officer hastened to that body, and briefly but graphically depicting the needs of the colony, asked the Council to loan him five hundredweight of powder to be used in the defence of the several stations.

The members of the Council expressed themselves as anxious to do everything in their power for the endangered colonists, but there was a threatened legal entanglement, which prevented them from making the loan in the manner desired. On account of the efforts of Colonel Henderson and Company, the inhabitants of Kentucky had not yet been recognized as citizens, and until that important question was settled, the utmost that could be done was to loan the ammunition to the Kentuckians as friends, at the same time holding General Clark personally responsible, in case of the failure of the State to give citizenship to the colonists.

General Clark lost his patience with this proposition. He had made his way to Virginia at great personal risk, to obtain the gunpowder, and he was ready to give his utmost services in defending the colony, but he could not admit the justice of becoming responsible for the value of the ammunition so sorely needed by the settlements, and he therefore declined to receive it upon such terms. Rather than do so, he announced that he would go back to Kentucky, put in operation his original scheme, and use all the resources of the territory to erect it into an independent and sovereign State.

This determination General Clark declared in a letter to the Council, after taking time to deliberate fully over the proposition. Its reception produced a result which he hardly dared hope. The Council called him before it, reconsidered their action, and ordered that the powder be sent to Pittsburg at once, where it was to be turned over to General Clark to be used in the defence of the settlements of Kentucky.