"Ay," answered Algernon, sadly, "that is what I fear. I dare not meet her suddenly, Isaac—the shock might be too much for her nerves. I have sent for you to go first and communicate intelligence of my arrival, in a way to surprise her as little as possible."

"I'll do it, Mr. Reynolds; but—(here Isaac's voice trembled, his features grew pale as death, and his whole frame quivered with intense emotion)—but—but my—my father—what—"

He could say no more—his voice had completely failed him.

"Alas! Isaac," replied Algernon, deeply affected, and turning away his face; "think the worst."

"Oh God!" groaned Isaac, covering his face with his hands, and endeavoring to master his feelings. "But—but—he's dead, Mr. Reynolds?"

"He is."

For a few moments Isaac sobbed grievously; then withdrawing his hands, and raising himself to an erect posture, with a look of resignation, he said:

"I—I can bear it now—for I know he's in Heaven. Stay here, Mr. Reynolds, till I come back;" and he turned abruptly away.

In a few minutes Isaac returned—his features calm, but very pale—and silently motioned the other to follow him. On their way to the cottage, they had to cross the common, where their progress was greatly impeded by a crowd of persons, who, having heard of Algernon's arrival, were deeply anxious to gather what tidings he might have concerning the movements of the Indians. In reply, he informed them of the threats made by Girty to him while a captive; and that, having since been a prisoner of the British at Detroit, he had learned, from reliable sources, that a grand army of the Indians was forming to march upon the frontiers, attack some stronghold, and, if possible, desolate the entire country of Kentucky; and that he believed they were already on their way.

"More'n that, they're already here," cried a voice; "for it's them, I 'spect, as has attacked Hoy's Station, of which we've just got news, and are gitting ready to march at daylight and attack them in turn. Arm, boys, arm! Don't let us dally here, and be lagging when the time comes to march and fight!"

With this the speaker turned away, and the crowd instantly dispersed to resume their occupations of preparing for the coming expedition, while our hero and Isaac pressed forward to the cottage of Mrs. Younker. At the door they were met by the good dame herself, who, with eyes wet with tears, caught the proffered hand of Reynolds in both of hers, pressed it warmly in silence, and led him into the house. Ella, who was seated at a short distance, on the entrance of Algernon, rose to her feet, took a step forward, staggered back, and the next moment her insensible form was caught in the arms of the being she loved, but had long mourned as dead.

[Footnote 19: This happened in June, 1782. For particulars of Crawford's disastrous campaign, and horrible fate—See Howe's Ohio, p. 542.]



CHAPTER XVI.

THE ALARM AND STRATAGEM.

It was late at night; but still Algernon Reynolds sat beside Ella Barnwell, relating the sad story of his many hair-breadth escapes and almost intolerable sufferings. A rude sort of light, on a rough table, a few feet distant, threw its faint gleams over the homely apartment, and revealed the persons of Isaac and his mother, his wife and her parents, together with several others, attracted hither by curiosity, grouped around our hero, and listening to his thrilling narrative with breathless attention.

"After being sufficiently recovered from my wound and bruises, to proceed upon my journey, (continued Reynolds, to resume the account of his adventures since leaving him at Piqua) Girty came to me, and inquired what I thought of my fate, and how I felt concerning it; to which I replied, rather briefly, that it was no worse than I had expected, since knowing into whose hands I had fallen.

"'Perhaps you think to escape?' said he, sneeringly.

"'I have no such hope,' I replied.

"'No, and by ——! you needn't have, either,' rejoined he, with a savage grin; 'for I'm determined you shall experience the torture to its fullest extent, if for nothing else than to revenge myself on you for your insults. I have only one thing to regret; and that is, that you didn't suffer in place of Younker, who is the only one whose torments I would I had had no hand in. But you—you I could see tormented forever, and laugh heartily throughout. But I'll wreak my vengeance on you yet; I will by ——!' and with these words he left me to the charge of my guards, with whom he spoke a short time in the Indian tongue—probably giving them instructions of caution regarding myself.

"It was about mid-day, when, with my arms tightly bound, we set off for Upper Sandusky, where, as I had previously been informed by Girty, I was condemned to suffer before the assembled tribes of the different nations, who would there shortly meet to receive their annual presents from the British. Our march, very fatiguing to myself, was without incident worthy of note, until one night we arrived at a small village on the Scioto river, where one of my guards, who could speak a little English, informed me resided the celebrated Mingo chief, Logan. A thought suddenly flashed across my brain. I had often heard of Logan, as the great and good chief, humane in his principles, and friendly to the whites—particularly those who were signally unfortunate—and it occurred to me, that could I gain an interview, I might perhaps prevail upon him to assist me in making my escape; and accordingly I at once expressed to my informant my desire of beholding one so celebrated. To my great delight, he replied that it was in Logan's cabin I was to pass the night—such being the private orders, as I afterwards learned, of Black Hoof—who had, it seems, from some cause unknown to myself, formed the design of saving my life; and had sent by the Indian in question, a verbal request to Logan, to use all his influence to this effect.

"As we entered the village, we were immediately surrounded by men, women and children, who stared hard at me, but offered no violence. In a few minutes we gained Logan's hut, in the door of which I observed standing an old, noble-looking warrior, with a commanding form, and mild, benevolent countenance, who proved to be the chief himself. To him one of my guards now addressed a few words in Indian; and uttering a grunt, and looking closely at me some seconds, he moved aside, and we all passed in. Here I soon had a good supper of homminy provided me, whereof I did not partake lightly, having been from sunrise to sunset without tasting a morsel of food. Immediately after I had finished my repast, Logan approached me, and, in tolerable good English, said:

"'White man, where from?'

"I motioned toward the east, and answered:

"'From sunrise—away beyond the big mountains.'

"Logan shook his head sadly, and replied, with a sigh:

"'Ah! so all come. Poor Indian get run over—he no place lay he head. But how you come all tied so?'

"In answer, I entered into a full explanation of all that had occurred respecting the proceedings of Girty, from first to last. Logan listened throughout with great attention, shook his head, and rejoined:

"'Ah! Simon Girty bad man—berry. Me always think so. Me sorry for you. Me do all me can for you. You shall sleep here. Me promise you nothing. Me tell you more sometime—to-morrow mebby!'

"With this he rose and left the cottage, and I saw him no more that night.

"Early in the morning, however, he came to me, and said that I was to remain at his cabin through the day; that he had laid a plan to effect my release from death, but not from captivity—the latter not being in accordance with his principles, nor in his power; that for this purpose he had despatched two young braves to Upper Sandusky, to speak a word in my favor; but that I must not be elated with hope, as it was very doubtful how much they might effect.[21] Notwithstanding his caution to the contrary, my spirits became exceedingly exhilarated; and grasping his hand in both mine, I pressed it to my heart in silence; while my eyes became suffused with tears, and the old chief himself seemed not a little affected.

"Late the night following, the messengers returned; and on the morning succeeding, we resumed our journey. In parting from the noble old chief, he shook my hand cordially, but gave me no intimation of what would probably be my fate.

"When within sight of Upper Sandusky, crowds of warriors, women and children came out to meet us, and, seeing me, set up many a hideous yell, until I again became alarmed for my safety, and fearful that Logan had not succeeded in his magnanimous design. This impression was the more strongly confirmed, shortly after, by one of my guides informing me that I must again run the gauntlet. Accordingly every preparation being speedily effected, I started upon the course; but possessing more strength and activity than before, and a better knowledge of what I had to perform, I succeeded in breaking through the lines, and reaching the council house unharmed. Here I was safe for the present; or until, as I was informed, my fate should once more be decided by a grand council.

"The council in question was speedily convened; and on the opening thereof, a British agent, one Captain Druyer, made his appearance, and requested permission to address the assemblage, which was readily granted. He spoke rapidly, for a few minutes, with great vehemence; and though I understood not a word he uttered, yet something whispered me it was in my favor; for I observed that the glances directed towards me, were milder far than those on my previous trial.

"To sum up briefly, it seems that Logan had despatched his messengers to Druyer, urging him to exert all his influence in obtaining my reprieve; and to effect this humane design, the latter had begun by stating to the Indians that their great white father, of whom he was an humble representative, was at war with the Long Knives; that nothing would please him better, than to hear of his red children having sacrificed all their enemies; but that in war, policy was ofttimes more effectual than personal revenge in accomplishing their destruction; and that he doubted not, if the prisoner present were put in his possession and taken to Detroit, that the great white chiefs of his own nation would there be able to extort from him such valuable information as would make the final conquest of the Long Knives comparatively easy. To this proposition, which was received rather coldly, he had added, that for this privilege he was willing to pay a fair recompense; and that so soon as all the information necessary had been gleaned from the prisoner, he should, if thought advisable, again be returned to them, to be put to death or not, as they might see proper. To this arrangement, all having at last consented, the gallant Captain advanced to me, shook my hand, and said that my life was for the present safe, and that I was to accompany him to Detroit, where I would be treated as a prisoner of war.

"It is impossible to describe my feelings, on hearing this joyful intelligence; therefore I shall leave you to imagine them, aided as you will be by your own experience under similar circumstances. And now let me close my long narrative as briefly as possible; for the hour is already late, and I must rise betimes on the morrow to join this expedition against the savages."

"Surely, Algernon," exclaimed Ella, with pale features, "you are not going to leave us again so soon?"

"Where duty calls, Ella, there is my place; and if I fall in honorable action, in defence of my country and friends, perchance my life may atone for matters whereof you are not ignorant."

Ella buried her face in her hands, to conceal her emotion; and Algernon, with an effort at composure, again proceeded.

"At Detroit I experienced kind treatment, as a prisoner of war; but still it was captivity, and I longed for freedom. Many, many an hour did I employ in planning my escape; yet month upon month rolled on, and still I remained in durance. At last startling rumors reached me, that the Indians of the different tribes were banding together, to march upon the frontiers and depopulate the country; and remembering the savage threat of Girty, I doubted not he was the instigator, and would be leader of the expedition; and I determined, at all hazards, if such a thing were in the province of possibility, to effect my escape, and give the country warning of the impending danger. To be brief, I succeeded, as my presence here tells for itself; but no one knows, save myself, and He who knows all things, the misery I suffered from fatigue, lack of food, and the fear of again being captured by some roving band of savages—the which I shall detail, perhaps, should my life be spared me, at some future period, but not at the present.

"I swam the Ohio, a short distance above the Falls, and made my way, to the best of my judgment, directly towards Boonesborough, where I arrived, a few days since, in a state of complete exhaustion. The noble old hunter received me warmly; from whose lips I heard, with thrilling emotion, the particulars of the pursuit, headed by himself, and the rescue of two of my dearest friends, their present abode, as also many startling events that had transpired during my absence; and in return, I communicated to him the alarming intelligence which I have before alluded to. So soon as I felt myself sufficiently strong for the journey, I left Boonesborough for Bryan's Station, and here I am, and thus my tale."

"And a mighty tough time you've had on't Mr. Reynolds, for sartin, and no mistake," rejoined Mrs. Younker, with a sigh, wiping her eyes. "Ah! me—poor Ben!—poor Ben!—I'm a widder now in arnest. Well, the Lord's will be done. The good Book says, 'The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord;' and them good words, my children and friends, must be our consolation."

But little more was said; for each of the party felt oppressed with a weight of sadness, at the thought of the many mournful events a year had brought forth; and as the hour was late, each and all presently betook themselves to rest.

Meantime, the preparations of the garrison for the morrow had been going forward in every part of the station; lights were moving to and fro; and all within the cabins, and on the common, was bustle and activity. At last the sounds gradually ceased, the lights went out one by one, and all finally became tranquil for the night.

About an hour before day-break, the sleepers began to rouse themselves, and all was soon again in commotion. Horses were led forth, saddled, returned and fed, and every thing got in readiness to throw open the gates and march forth so soon as it should become sufficiently light for the purpose.

At last came the exciting moment of all. Some were standing in groups, and weeping bitterly at the thought of parting, perhaps for the last time, with their fathers, husbands and sons; some were running to and fro with anxious messages; some were clasping each other to their hearts, in agonizing silence, and praying in secret that the Great Ruler of all might preserve and happily restore them again to the idols of their affections; some had mounted their noble steeds, or were leading them forth for the purpose—and all was in Babel-like confusion.

"Farewell, my friends," said Algernon, as he stood in the door of Mrs. Younker's cottage, grasping one after another the proffered hands of its weeping inmates, among whom was the wife and mother-in-law of Isaac. "Farewell, dearest Ella; we may never meet again on earth. Farewell—farewell!" and pressing her hand to his lips, he rushed forth with a heaving heart, not daring to trust himself longer in her presence.

Isaac and his father-in-law followed the example of Reynolds, moved away with weeping eyes, and all were quickly in their saddles.

A few minutes later the roll was called, and the order given by the commanding officer to form in double file and throw open the eastern gate. Scarcely were the words uttered, when there arose a series of terrific Indian yells, accompanied by a volley of firearms, and every face became blanched with surprise and dismay, and looked from one to the other in astonishment.

"By heavens!" cried a voice; "our fighting 'll be at home, I reckon, judging by the specimen before us."

Dismounting from their horses, the garrison, together with many of the women and children, now rushed to the southern pickets, where, through loop-holes and crevices, they beheld, only a few rods distant, about a hundred savages, running to and fro, jumping up and down, whooping, yelling, screeching and firing at the station, accompanied with all the wild, fantastic gestures of loosened madmen.

"Thar's not more nor a hundred o' the varmints, any how," cried Isaac; "and I reckon as how we can jest lick them, and no mistake. Hurray for a fight."

"Hurray for a fight!" echoed a dozen voices, as they rushed back to remount their horses.

"Hold!" cried the deep voice of Father Albach. "Hold! lads; don't do things rash! Them Indians wouldn't be dancing and sky-larking round that way, ef thar warn't some object in it, you may depend on."

"And that's my opinion too," answered another gray-headed veteran. "The fact is, they're only a decoy party, sent our thar from the main body, jest to draw us out, so that the others can rush on and make an easy conquest on't. I tell you, friends, thar's no mistaking it; we're surrounded by a tremendous body o' the red heathen, and we're likely to have warm work on't. I've lived in the woods all my life, and I know the nater of the painted varmints as well as I know my own. Ef them war all thar war on 'em, we'd have seen very different proceedings, I assure you."

"But what's to be done?" cried several voices in consternation.

"I would suggest that we send immediately to Lexington for a reinforcement," spoke up Reynolds, in reply.

"Who'll volunteer to go with me on the dangerous mission?" cried a young man, by the name of Bell.

"I will!" instantly responded another, called Tomlinson.

"Brave lads!" returned Father Albach. "You'll be doing us and your country a service, which we at least will ever gratefully remember. I'd advise your leaving by the western gate, riding round the station, and keeping away to the right, and you'll maybe pass them without trouble. But ef you go, now's your only chance."

As he spoke, the young men in question sprung forward to their horses, and immediately quitted the fort, amid cheers for their gallantry and courage, and prayers for their safety and success.

A council of the leading men was now speedily convened to deliberate upon the best means of insuring the safety of themselves, their wives, and children.

"They'll no doubt attack us on the western side," said Father Albach, "where the pallisades are somewhat out o' kilter; and it's my opinion, that we'd better repair them as soon as possible, and station the main part of the garrison thar, ready to receive 'em with a military salute, while we send out a few o' our young men to fire on them as is in sight, to deceive the others; for I believe with neighbor Nickolson, here, that thar's a large party in ambush close by."

"Ay, and doubtless led by the renegade," said Reynolds; "as I presume this Indian army is the same whose approach I have foretold. Thank God!" added he, with energy and emotion, as his mind reverted to Ella, "that they came as they did; for an hour later, and they would have found the fort defenceless, when all within would have been food for the tomahawk and scalping knife."

He shuddered at the thought, and placed his hand to his eyes.

"Indeed, it seems like a direct Providence in our favor," rejoined another.

"But thar's one thing you've overlooked, in your proposition, Albach," said the old veteran called Nickolson. "Ef the seige be protracted, what are we to do for water?"

Each face of the company blanched, and turned toward the speaker with a startled look. It was a question of the most grave importance, and all felt it to be so. The spring was without the pallisades, as we have previously mentioned, on the northwestern side of the station. The path to it was through a rank growth of tall weeds, wherein the main body of the Indians was supposed to be concealed—so that, should the garrison venture forth in that direction, they would in all probability be cut off, and the fort fall into the possession of the enemy. This of course was not to be thought of. But what was to be done? To be without water in a protected siege, was a dangerous and painful alternative. In this agitating dilemma, one of the council suddenly exclaimed:

"I have it!—I have it!" All looked at the speaker in breathless expectation. "I have it!" continued he joyfully. "The women!—the women!"

"The women!" echoed several voices at once.

"Ay! you know they're in the habit of going for water—and this the savages know too—and ef they venture forth by themselves, as usual, the wily scoundrels will be deceived for once—for they won't mistrust thar hiding place is known; and as thar object is to carry the fort by stratagem, they won't unmask till they hear firing on t'other side."

"Good!—good!" exclaimed several voices; and forthwith the council proceeded to summon all the women of the station, and make known their plan for procuring a supply of water.

Not a little consternation was expressed in the faces of the latter, when informed of the perilous undertaking required of them.

"What! go right straight in among the Injen warmints—them male critters?" cried an old maid, holding up her hands in horror.

"Do you think we're invisible, and they can't see us?" said a second.

"Or bullet proof?" added a third.

"Or that our scalps arn't worth as much as yourn?" rejoined a fourth.

"Or of so little account you arn't afeared to lose us?" put in a fifth.

"We don't think any thing o' the kind," returned the spokesman on the part of the council; "but we do think, as I before explained, that you can go and come in safety; and that ef we don't have a supply o' water, we're likely to perish any how, and might as well throw open the gates and be butchered at once."

This last brief speech produced the desired effect, and a few words from Mrs. Younker completely carried the day.

"Is this here a time," she cried, with enthusiasm, her eyes flashing as she spoke, "to be hanging back, till the all important moment's gone by, and then choke to death for want o'water? What's our lives any more'n the men's, that we should be so orful skeered about a few ripscallious, painted varmints, as arn't o' no account, no how? Han't I bin amongst 'em once?—and didn't the Lord preserve me?—and shall I doubt His protection now, when a hundred lives is at stake? No! no! I'm not skeered; and I'll go, too, ef I has to go alone. Who'll follow me?"

"I will!" cried one.

"And I!" said a second.

"We'll all go!" exclaimed several voices.

Dispersing in every direction, each flew to her own cabin, and seizing upon a bucket, hurried to the rear gate, where, all being assembled, they were at once given exit.[20]

Perhaps in the whole annals of history, a more singular proceeding than this—of men allowing their wives and daughters to deliberately put themselves into the power of a ferocious, blood-thirsty enemy, and women with nerve and courage to dare all so bravely—can not be found. But these were times of stern necessity, when each individual—man, woman or child—was called upon to dare and do that which would surprise and startle their descendants. Still it must not be supposed that they, on either side, were without fears, and those of the most alarming kind. Many a palpitating heart moved over the ground to the spring, and many a pale face was reflected in its placid waters; while many a courageous soul within the fort trembled at the thought of the venture, and what might be its result, as they had never done before—even with death staring them in the face—and as they probably would never do again. Each party, however, knew the step taken to be a serious alternative; and the women believed that on their caution and presence of mind, their own lives, and those of their fathers, husbands, and children were depending; and in consequence of this, they assumed an indifference and gaiety the most foreign to their present feelings. As for Algernon, we leave the task to lovers of imagining his feelings, when he saw the lovely Ella depart with the rest. It was indeed a most anxious time for all; but the stratagem succeeded to a charm; and, to use the words of a historian on the subject, "Although their steps became quicker and quicker on their return, and, when near the gate of the fort, degenerated into a rather unmilitary celerity, attended with some little crowding in passing the aperture, yet not more than one-fifth of the water was spilled, and the eyes of the youngest had not dilated to more than double their ordinary size."

[Footnote 20: In both the foregoing and subsequent details, we have followed history to the letter.]

[Footnote 21: The reader, familiar with the history of the early pioneers of Kentucky, will doubtless observe a similarity between the account given by Reynolds of his escape from captivity, and that of Gen. Simon Kenton, as narrated by his biographer, Col. John McDonald.]



CHAPTER XVII.

THE ATTACK AND RESULT.

Meantime the repairing of the pallisades had been going bravely forward, every moment rendering the garrison more and more secure, which served not a little to revive their spirits; and when at length the women had all entered, the gate been barred, and they had seen themselves well supplied with water, they could restrain their feelings no longer, and one grand, simultaneous cheer burst from their lips.

"Now then," said Father Albach, "let 'em come, and I reckon as how they'll meet with a warm reception. But to draw 'em on, we must send out a party to make a feint to fight the others."

Thirteen young men, among whom was Isaac, were accordingly selected, to pass out by the eastern gate and commence firing rapidly; while the remainder, with loaded muskets, were to range themselves along the western pickets, and be ready to pour their deadly contents into the swarthy horde of besiegers, in case their attack should be made in that quarter. As the young men departed, all relapsed into a solemn silence of anxious suspense; which was presently broken by the rapid discharge of firearms, outside the fort, accompanied with cheers and yells from both the whites and Indians. Now was the all important moment—the war sounds were gradually growing more and more distant—and every eye of the inner garrison was strained in breathless expectation, in the direction of the spring, while every rifle was cocked and in rest, ready for any emergency.

Suddenly the tall weeds—which a moment before had been quietly waving in the morning breeze—became dreadfully agitated; and the next instant, as if by magic, the ground was peopled by some five hundred hideous savages; who, led on by the notorious renegade, now rushed forward, with wild frantic yells, to the western pallisades, where our gallant little band stood drawn up ready to receive them. They had advanced in a tremendous body, to within a few feet of the fort, when the word "Fire," uttered in a clear, manly voice, resounded above their own frightful yells, and was followed the next moment by a terrible volley of leaden balls, that carried death and terror into their serried ranks. With one simultaneous yell of rage, consternation, and disappointment, they halted a moment in indecision; when another death-dealing volley, from the gallant Kentuckians, decided their course of action; and again yelling fearfully, they parted to the right and left, and bearing their dead and wounded with them, rushed for the covert of a neighboring forest. At the same moment, the party which had sallied forth upon the Lexington road, to make a feint of attacking their decoys, entered the fort by the eastern gate, in high spirits at the success of their maneuver.

The warfare was now carried on in the usual manner, after the failure of stratagem, for several hours, with but little success on either side. The block-houses were immediately manned by the garrison, who by this means could command every point of compass; and whenever an Indian came in sight, he was at once made the target for three or four keen riflemen, who rarely missed their mark. In consequence of this, the wily savage rarely showed himself in an open manner; but would creep stealthily among the tall weeds, or among the tall standing corn, that covered about an hundred acres of ground on the southern side of the station, or ensconce himself behind some stump or trunk of a tree in the vicinity, and discharge his rifle at any mark thought suitable, or let fly his burning arrows upon the roofs of the cabins. To avoid, if possible, a conflagration, every boy of ten years and upwards, was ordered upon the roofs of the houses, to throw off these burning missiles; but notwithstanding their great vigilance, so rapidly were they sent at one period, that two of the cabins, being in a very combustible state, took fire, to the great consternation of all, and, before they could be extinguished, were totally consumed. Here again the hand of an overruling Providence was manifest; for a light wind drove the flames from the other buildings, and thus a terrible and fatal calamity was averted.

From the attack in the morning by the main body, a sharp fire was maintained on both sides till towards noon; when it began to slacken considerably; and a little past meridian ceased altogether—the savages having withdrawn for another purpose, as we shall show anon, leaving the garrison in suspense as to whether they had totally abandoned the siege or not.

We have previously stated that Bryan's Station stood on a gentle rise on the southern bunk of the Elkhorn, whereby it commanded a view of much of the surrounding country. A considerable portion of the land in the immediate vicinity had been cleared and was under cultivation; but still, in some places, the forest approached to a close proximity; so that it was impossible, without traversing the ground, to determine whether the foe had withdrawn altogether, or, as was more probable, now lay hidden therein, awaiting an unguarded moment of the besieged to renew hostilities. Where the Maysville and Lexington road now runs, was a long narrow lane, bounded on one side by the large cornfield before alluded to, and on the other by a heavy wood. Through this lane the reinforcements from Lexington must naturally pass, to reach the station; and knowing this, and that they were expected, (for the escape of the two couriers in the morning had not been overlooked) the Indians, to the number of more than three hundred, had concealed themselves in the thicket, within pistol shot of the road, and were now quietly waiting to cut them off.

Notwithstanding the quiet which had succeeded the sounds of warfare, the garrison were still on the lookout, fearful of being surprised. In this manner an hour or two passed away, without any event occurring worth being recorded, when a voice shouted joyfully:

"The Lexington reinforcements are at hand!"

In a moment the whole station was in commotion—men, women, and children rushing to the block-houses and pallisades nearest to and overlooking the long lane just mentioned. The force in question numbered some sixteen horsemen, and about twice as many foot; who, not having heard any firing, nor seen any savages thus far, were somewhat carelessly approaching the fort at a leisure pace, thinking, as was not uncommon in those times of danger, when such things were often exaggerated, that perhaps the alarm had been unfounded, or, at the most, based only on slight grounds. They had been overtaken on the road between Lexington and Hoy's station, for which place they had marched on receiving the news of Holder's defeat, and had been informed by Tomlinson and Bell that Bryan's station was surrounded by a large body of Indians, of whose numbers they knew nothing. On hearing this, and knowing the unguarded condition of Lexington, they had instantly turned back, and pressed forward at what speed they could to the assistance of their neighbors, of whom they were now in sight.

"Great Heaven!" cried the voice of the look-out, at this moment, in consternation. "See!—see!—they are ambushed, and will all be cut off!"

As he spoke, a long rolling line of fire could he discerned; and presently was heard the report of a tremendous volley of musketry, followed by a cloud of dust and smoke, which for a time completely hid them from view. In a few minutes, however, the horsemen were seen close at hand, spurring forward with lightning speed. Some three or four individuals instantly sprung to and threw open the eastern gate, and in less than two minutes they reined in their panting steeds in the court of the station. At the first shot of the savages, they had put spurs to their horses, and, as the ground was very dry, a cloud of dust had instantly enveloped them, by which means, fortunately, every one of them had escaped unharmed, although on their way they had drawn the fire of more than three hundred Indian rifles, successively discharged at them while passing the lines of the ambuscade. Not thus easily, however, escaped their companions on foot.

At the commencement of the firing, these latter were advancing toward the station through the cornfield, and, being completely hidden from the savages thereby, they might, had they pressed rapidly forward, have gained the fort in safety. Not so was their conduct. They were brave, hot-blooded, noble men. They could not think of flying and leaving their friends in danger; and more noble and reckless than wise and prudent, they turned and rushed to their assistance. They saw their error, but too late to retrieve it. Their friends had fled, and were safe, but they were now placed within a few paces of three hundred blood-thirsty warriors. On seeing them, the savages uttered the most hideous yells, rushed forward and cut them off from the fort, and then sprung after them, tomahawk in hand. Luckily, however, for our little band of heroes, the Indians had just discharged their rifles, and their own were loaded; by which means, when hard pressed, they turned and kept their foes at bay—the savage, in all cases, being too cautious to rush upon a weapon so deadly, with only a tomahawk wherewith to defend himself. Moreover, the corn was stout and tall, among which they ran and dodged with great agility; and whenever an Indian halted to load his rifle, the fugitive for whom its contents were designed, generally managed, by extra exertion, to gain a safe distance before it was completed, and thus effect his escape. Some five or six, however, were so unfortunate as to be knocked or shot down, when they were immediately tomahawked and scalped; but the remainder, in various directions and by various artifices, succeeded in making their escape. A few reached the fort in a roundabout manner; but the main body of them returned to Lexington; where, had the savages followed them, they would have found an easy conquest. Fortunately for the whites, however, the red men were not so inclined; and pursuing them a few hundred yards only, the latter abandoned the chase as hopeless.

One of the most active and ferocious on the part of the Indians during this skirmish, which lasted nearly an hour, was Simon Girty. Enraged to madness at the failure of his stratagem in the morning, he gnashed his teeth and rushed after the fugitives, with all the fury depicted on his countenance of a demon let loose from the infernal regions of Pluto. Two with his own hand he sent to their last account; and was in hot pursuit of a third—a handsome, active youth—who, being hard pressed, turned round, and raising his rifle to his shoulder, with a scornful smile upon his face, bitterly exclaimed, as he discharged it:

"Take that, you —— renegade, and see how it'll digest!"

As he fired, Girty fell, and perceiving this, the Indians, with a yell of despair, instantly gathered round him, while the man effected his escape. This closed the exciting contest of the cornfield—which had been witnessed throughout from the station with feelings better imagined than described—but, unfortunately for humanity, did not end the career of Girty; for the ball had taken effect in his shot pouch instead of his body; and though wounded, his case was in no wise critical; and he was soon able to take his place at the council fire, to deliberate upon what further should be done.[22]

The council alluded to, lasted some two or three hours. The Indians were disheartened at their loss in the morning, and the failure of all their stratagems, even to cutting off the reinforcements of the enemy. They were sufficiently convinced they could not carry the fort by storm; and they also believed it unsafe to longer remain where they were; as the alarm of their presence had spread far and wide, and there was no telling at what moment a force equal to their own might be brought against them; therefore, they were now anxious to abandon the siege and return home. Girty, however, was by no means satisfied with the turn matters had taken. He had with great difficulty and masterly persuasion succeeded in getting them to unite and march in a body (contrary to their usual mode of warfare, which consisted in skirmishing with small parties,) against the whites; and he now felt that his reputation was in a manner staked on the issue; consequently he could illy bear to leave without the trial of one more stratagem. This he made known to the chiefs of the council, and offered, in case of failure, to retreat with them at once.

As this last design of Girty was merely to deceive the whites, and frighten them into capitulation, without any further risk to themselves, the Indians agreed to it, and the council broke up.

It was nearly sundown; and every one in the station had been on the alert, ready to repel another attack should the Indians renew hostilities, as was not unlikely, when a voice cried out:

"Hang me to the nearest cross-bar, ef the red sons of Satan hav'nt sent out a flag of truce!"

This at once drew the attention of most of the garrison to a small white flag on a temporary pole, which at no great distance was gradually nearing them, supported in an upright position by some object crawling along on the ground. At length the object gained a stump; and having mounted it, was at once recognized by Reynolds as the renegade—although Girty on this expedition had doffed the British uniform, in which we once described him, and now appeared in a costume not unlike his swarthy companions.

"Halloo the garrison!" he shouted.

"Halloo yourself!—what's wanted?" cried a voice back again.

"Respect this flag of truce, and listen!" rejoined Girty; and waving it from side to side as he spoke, he again proceeded: "Courage can do much in war, and is in all cases a noble trait, which I for one do ever respect; but there may be circumstances where manly courage can avail nothing, and where to practice it only becomes fool-hardy, and is sure to draw down certain destruction on the actor or actors. Such I hasten to assure you, gentlemen, is exactly your case in the present instance. No one admires the heroism which you have, one and all, even to your women and children, this day displayed, more than myself; but I feel it my duty to inform you that henceforth the utmost daring of each and all of you combined can be of no avail whatever. Resistance on your part will henceforth be a crime rather than a virtue. It is to save bloodshed, and you all from a horrible fate, that I have ventured hither at the risk of my life. You are surrounded by an army of six hundred savages. To-morrow there will be a large reinforcement with cannon; when, unless you surrender now, your bulwark will be demolished, and you, gentlemen, with your wives and children, will become victims to an unrelenting, cruel foe. Death will then be the mildest of your punishments. I would save you from this. I am one of your race; and, although on the side of your enemy, would at this time counsel and act toward you a friendly part. Do you not know me? I am Simon Girty—an agent of the British. Take my advice and surrender now your fort into my hands, and I swear to you not a single hair of your heads shall be harmed. But if you hold out until you are carried by storm I can not save you; for the Indians will have become thirsty for your blood, and no commander on earth could then restrain them. Be not hasty in rejecting my friendly offer. It is for your good I have spoken—and so weigh the matter well. I pause for an answer."

The effect of Girty's speech upon the garrison, was to alarm them not a little. His mention of reinforcements with cannon, caused many a stout heart to tremble, and many a face to blanch and turn to its neighbor with an expression of dismay. Against cannon they knew, as Girty stated, resistance would be of no avail; and cannon had, in 1780, advanced up the Licking Valley, and destroyed Riddle's and Martin's stations. If Girty told the truth, their case was truly alarming.

As the renegade concluded, Reynolds—who saw the effect his words had produced, and who, knowing him better than any of the others, believed his whole tale to be false—at once begged leave to reply for the garrison, which was immediately granted. Placing himself in full view of Girty, he answered as follows, in a tone of raillery:

"Well done, my old worthy companion! and are you really there, carrying out another of your noble and humane designs? When, O when, I humbly beg to know, will your philanthropic efforts end? I suppose not until death has laid his claim, and the devil has got his due. You ask us if we know you. What! not know the amiable Simon Girty, surnamed the Renegade? Could you indeed for a moment suppose such a thing possible? Know you? Why, we have an untrusty, worthless cur-dog in the fort here, that has been named Simon Girty, in compliment to you—he is so like you in every thing that is ugly, wicked and mean. You say you expect reinforcements of artillery. Well, if you stay in this quarter long, I know of no one that will be more likely to need them than yourself and the cowardly cut-throats who call you chief. We too expect reinforcements; for the country is roused in every direction; and if you remain here twenty-four hours longer, the scalps of yourself and companions will be drying on our cabins. Bring on your cannon and blaze away as soon as you please! We shall fear you not, even then; for if you succeed in entering, along with your naked, rascally companions, we shall set our old women to work, and have you scourged to death with rods, of which we have on hand a goodly stock for the purpose. And now to wind up, allow me to say I believe you to be a liar, and know you to be a most depraved, inhuman villain. This knowledge of your character is not second-hand. I paid dearly for it, by a year's captivity. I defied you when in your power: I spit at and defy you now in behalf of the garrison! My name you may remember. It is Algernon Reynolds. What would you more?"[23]

"Would that I had you in my power again," shouted back Girty; "for by ——! I would willingly forego all other vengeance on the whites, to take my revenge on you. I regret the garrison did not choose some one to reply who was not already doomed to death. It was my desire to save bloodshed; but my offer has been rejected from the mouth of one I hate; and now I leave you to your fate. To-morrow morning will see your bulwarks in ruins, and yourselves, your wives and little ones, in the power of a foe that never forgives an injury nor forgets an insult. Farewell till then! I bide my time."

As Girty concluded altogether, he began to ease himself down from the stump, when his progress was not a little accelerated by hearing a voice from the garrison cry out:

"Shoot the —— rascal!—don't let him escape!"

Instantly some five or six rifles were brought to bear upon him; and his fate might then have been decided forever, had not the voice of Nickolson warned them to beware of firing upon a flag of truce. Girty, however, made good his retreat, and the garrison was disturbed no more that night. Before morning the Indians, after having killed all the domestic cattle they could find belonging to the station, began their retreat; and by daylight their camp was deserted; though many of their fires were still burning brightly, and several pieces of meat were found on roasting-sticks around them, all showing a late and hasty departure.

[Footnote 22: The foregoing is strictly authentic.]

[Footnote 23: This celebrated reply of Reynolds to Girty, is published, with but slight variations, in all the historical sketches that we have seen relating to the attack on Bryan's Station and is, perhaps, familiar to the reader.]



CHAPTER XVIII.

THE FOE PURSUED.

As Algernon had stated to Girty, the country was indeed roused to a sense of their danger. The news of the storming of Bryan's Station had spread fast and far; and, early on the day succeeding the attack, reinforcements began to come in from all quarters; so that by noon of the fourth day, the station numbered over one hundred and eighty fighting men.

Colonel Daniel Boone, accompanied by his son Israel, and brother Samuel, commanded a considerable force from Boonesborough—Colonel Stephen Trigg, a large company from Harrodsburgh—and Colonel John Todd, the militia from Lexington. A large portion of these forces was composed of commissioned officers, who, having heard of the attack on Bryan's Station by an overwhelming body of Indians, had hurried to the scene of hostilities, and, like brave and gallant soldiers as they were, had at once taken their places in the ranks as privates. Most noted among those who still held command under the rank of Colonel, were Majors Harlan, McGary, McBride, and Levi Todd; and Captains Bulger, Patterson and Gordon.

Of those now assembled, Colonel Todd, as senior officer, was allowed to take command—though, from the tumultuous council of war which was held in the afternoon, it appears that each had a voice, and that but little order was observed. It was well known that Colonel Benjamin Logan was then in the act of raising a large force in Lincoln county; and at the furthest would join them in twenty-four hours; which would render them safe in pursuing the savages; and for this purpose the more prudent, among whom was our old friend, Colonel Boone, advised their delay; stating, as a reason, that the Indians were known to outnumber them all, as three to one; and that to pursue them with a force so small, could only result, should they be overtaken, in a total defeat of the whites. Besides which, Boone stated that the scouts who had been sent out to examine the Indian trail, had reported that it was very broad, and that the trees on either side had been marked with their tomahawks; thereby showing a willingness on the part of the enemy to be pursued, and a design to draw the whites into an ambuscade, the consequences of which must necessarily be terrible. In this view of the case, Colonel Boone was strongly seconded by Major McGary, who, though a hot-headed young officer, eager on almost all occasions for a fight, now gave his voice on the side of prudence.

But these prudent measures were combatted and overruled by Todd; who, being an ambitious man, forsaw that, in waiting for Logan, he would be deprived of his authority as commander-in-chief of the expedition, and the glory which a successful battle would now cast upon him. By him it was urged, in opposition to Boone and McGary, that to await the arrival of Colonel Logan, was only to act the part of cowards, and allow the Indians a safe retreat; that in case they were overtaken and their numbers found to be double their own—which report he believed to be false—the ardor and superior skill of the Kentuckians would more than make them equal, and the victory and glory would be their own. Whereas, should the Indians be allowed to escape without an effort to harass them, the Kentuckians would be held eternally disgraced in the minds of their countrymen.

The dispute on the matter waxed warm, high words ensued, and the discussion was in a fair way of being drawn out to great extent; when Boone, becoming tired and disgusted with the whole proceedings, replied:

"Well, I've given my conscientious opinion about the affair, and now you can do as you please. Of course I shall go with the majority, and my seniors in command; and ef the decision's for a fight, why a fight we must venter, though every man o' Kaintuck be laid on his back for the risking. Ef we fail—and its my opine we shall—let them as takes the responsibility bear the blame. I'll give my voice, though, to the last, that we'd better wait the reinforcements o' Colonel Logan."

"Sir!" exclaimed Colonel Todd, turning fiercely to Boone; "if you are not a coward, you talk like one! Don't you know, sir, that if we wait for Logan, he will gain all the laurels?—and that if we press forward, we shall gain all the glory?"

"As to my being a coward, Colonel Todd," replied Boone, mildly, with dignity, "when the word's explained so as I know the full meaning on't, prehaps I'll be able to decide ef I be or not. Ef it means prudence in a time o' danger, on which the welfare o' my country and the lives o' my countrymen depends, I'd rather be thought cowardly than rash. Ef it means a fear to risk my own poor body in defence o' others, I reckon as how my past life'll speak for itself; and for the futer, wharsomever Colonel Todd dars to venter, Daniel Boone dars to lead. As to glory, we'll talk about that arter the battle's fought."

Thus ended the discussion; and the matter being put to vote, it was carried by an overwhelming majority in favor of Todd's proposition, that the Indians should be pursued without further delay. It was now about three o'clock in the afternoon; and immediately on the final decision being made, the council broke up, and orders were rapidly given to prepare to depart forthwith. All the horses in or about the station were now collected together, on which most of the officers and many of the privates were soon mounted; and by four o'clock the eastern gate was thrown open, the order to march given by Colonel Todd, and the procession, composed of the flower of Kentucky's gallant sons, moved forth, amid sighs and tears from the opposite sex. Reynolds—who, during the past two or three days, since the retreat of the enemy, had employed his leisure moments in the company of the being he loved, and who was now finely mounted on a superb charger which had been presented him by Colonel Boone—turned upon his saddle, as he was leaving the station, and waved another adieu to Ella, who stood in the door of her cottage, gazing upon his noble form, with a pale cheek, tearful eye, and beating heart. She raised her lily hand, and, with a graceful motion, returned his parting salute; and then, to conceal her emotion, retired into the house.

The Indians, it was found, had followed the buffalo trace, and, according to the account given by the scouts, had made their trail obvious as possible, by hacking the trees on either side with their tomahawks. Their camp fires, however, were very few, comparatively speaking, which to Boone seemed plainly evident of a desire to mask their numbers. He had lived in the woods all his life, was the oldest settler on the borders, and had been several times a prisoner of the Indians; so that he was familiar with their artifices for decoying their enemies; and he believed, from what he saw, that it was their desire to be followed by the whites; and that they would probably seek to draw the latter into an ambuscade in the vicinity of the Blue Licks, where the wild country was particularly favorable to their purpose. In imagination he already saw the disastrous result that was destined to follow this hasty expedition; but his counsel to the contrary had been disregarded, and it was not a time now to dampen the ardor of the soldiers, on which alone success could depend, by expressing his fears and laying himself liable to further reproach and contumely. He had said and done all that was consistent in his situation to prevent the present step; and he now saw proper to keep his fears of the result to himself; the more so, as a retreat was out of the question.

About dark the party came to halt, and encamped in the woods for the night. Early on the ensuing morning they resumed their march; and a little before noon reached the southern bluffs of Licking river, opposite the Lower Blue Lick, distant from Bryan's Station some thirty-six miles, and the place where, according to the opinion of Boone, the savages would be likely to lie in wait to give them battle.

The scenery in the vicinity of the Licks, even at the present day, is peculiarly wild and romantic; but at the period in question, it was relieved by nothing in the shape of civilization. The Licks themselves had for ages been the resort of buffalo and other wild animals, which had come there to lick the saline rocks, and had cropped the surrounding hills of every green thing, thereby giving them a barren, desolate, gloomy appearance. On the northern bank—the one opposite our little army—arose a tremendous bluff, entirely destitute of vegetation, the brow of which was trodden hard by the immense herds of buffalo which had passed over it from time immemorial on their way to and from the salt springs at its base. To add to its dismal appearance, the rains of centuries had sloughed deep gullies in its side, and washed the earth from the rocks around its base, which, being blackened in the sun, now rose grim and bare, frowning in their majesty like fettered monsters of the infernal regions. As you ascended this ridge, a hard level trace or road led back for something like a mile—free from tree, stump or bush—when you came to a point where two ravines, one on either hand, met at the top, and, thickly wooded, ran in opposite directions down to the river, which, beginning on the right, went sweeping round a large circuit, in the form of an iron magnet, and made a sort of inland peninsula of the bluff in question. Back from this buffalo trace, on the southern bank of the Licking, dark heavy woods extended for miles in every direction, and made the whole scene impressive with a kind of gloomy grandeur.

As our gallant band of Kentuckians gained the river, they descried some three or four savages leisurely ascending the stony ridge on the opposite side. On perceiving the troops, the Indians paused, gazed at them a few moments in silence, and then, quietly continuing their ascent, disappeared on the other side. A halt was now ordered by Colonel Todd, and a council of war called to deliberate on what was best to be done. The wild gloomy country around them, their distance from any post of succor, and the startling idea that perchance they were in the presence of a body of savages of double or treble their own numbers, was not without its effect upon Todd and those who had seconded his hasty movements, and served much toward cooling their ardor, and inspiring each other with a secret awe.

Immediately on the halt of the troops, some twenty officers assembled in front of the lines for consultation; when, turning to them, Colonel Todd said:

"Gentlemen, for aught I know to the contrary we are now in the presence of a superior enemy—superior at least in point of numbers—and I desire to know your minds as to what course we had best pursue. And particularly, Colonel Boone," continued Todd, politely bowing to the veteran woodsman, "would I solicit your views on the matter; believing as I do, notwithstanding any hasty words I may have uttered in the heat of excitement to the contrary, that you are a brave soldier, cool under all circumstances, amply experienced in Indian stratagem, and consequently capable of rendering much valuable advice in the present instance."

Boone was not a revengeful man under any circumstances; and though he had felt more stung and nettled at the implication of Todd the day before than he cared to let others see, yet now that the other had made the apology due him, he showed nothing like haughtiness or triumph in his mild, benevolent countenance, but, bowing slightly, with his characteristic frankness replied:

"As you say, Colonel Todd, I've had some little experience with the varmints at different times, not excepting my capter at these same Licks in 1778; and, besides, I've have traversed this here country in every direction, and know every secret hiding-place round about, as well as the rest o' ye know the ground we've jest traveled; and it's on account o' this knowledge partly, and partly on account o' the lazy movements o' them red heathen we've jest seen go over the hill yonder, and the wide trail, and marked trees behind us, that I'm led to opine thar's a tremendous body o' the naked rascals hid in a couple o' ravines, that run down to the river on either side of that ridge, about a mile ahead, who are waiting to take us by surprise. Now I think we'd better do one of two things. Either wait for the reinforcement o' Colonel Logan—who's no doubt on his march by this time to join us—or else divide our party, and let half on 'em go up stream and cross at the rapids, and so get round behind the ravines, ready to attack the savages in the rear; while the rest cross the ford here, and keep straight on along the ridge to attack 'em in front—by which maneuver we may prehaps be able to beat them. But ef you don't see proper, gentlemen, to take up with either o' these proposals—don't, for Heaven's sake! I beg o' ye, venter forward, without first sending on scouts to reconnoitre—else we're likely to be in an ambuscade afore we know it, and prehaps all be cut off."

"Well, all things considered," answered Colonel Todd, who now, becoming aware of the fearful responsibility resting upon him as commander, felt little inclined to press rashly forward, "I think it advisable to wait the reinforcements of Logan before proceeding further. It can delay us but a day or two, and then we shall be sure of a victory; whereas, if we press forward now, and run into an ambuscade, of which Colonel Boone feels certain, we shall doubtless rue the day by a total defeat."

"I'm of the same opinion," rejoined Major Levi Todd.

"And I," said Captain Patterson.

"And I," rejoined several other voices.

"But I'm opposed to waiting for Logan," said Colonel Trigg; "as delays on the point of a battle are rarely ever beneficial. I think we had better take up with Colonel Boone's second proposition—divide our forces, and proceed at once to action; though, for the matter of prudence, it may be advisable to send a couple of scouts ahead, before deciding upon any thing positive."

Majors Harlan and McBride, with two or three others of inferior rank, took sides with Trigg; and the discussion seemed likely to be protracted for some considerable time; when Major Hugh McGary, who had been listening to the proceedings with the utmost impatience, suddenly startled and broke up the council by a loud whoop, resembling that of an Indian; and spurring his high mettled charger forward, he waved his hat over his head, and shouted, in a voice that reached the whole length of the line, these ever memorable words:

"Those among you who are not d—d cowards, follow me! I'll soon show you where the Indians are!"

As he spoke he rushed his fiery steed into the river, with all the rash impetuosity of a desperate soldier charging at the cannon's mouth.

The effect of McGary's words and actions were electrical. The troops, mounted and on foot, officers and privates, suddenly became animated with a wild enthusiasm. Whooping and yelling like Indians, more than a hundred of them now sprung forward, and in a tumultuous body rushed into the stream and struggled for the opposite shore. A few lingered around Boone, Todd, and Twigg, to await their orders. But the pause of these commanders was only momentary. They saw their ranks in confusion, and more than two-thirds of their soldiers in the water, struggling after the hot-headed McGary, and most of the other officers. The mischief was already done. To delay was but to doom their enthusiastic comrades to certain destruction; and shouting to those who yet remained to follow, Todd put spurs to his horse, and, together with Trigg and Boone dashed after the main body. It was a wild scene of excitement. Horsemen and footmen, officers and privates, all mixed up together in confusion, and pushing forward in one "rolling and irregular mass."

By violent threats and repeated exertions, with their swords drawn and flashing in the sunlight, Colonels Todd, Trigg and Boone at length succeeded, after reaching the opposite bank, in restoring something like order to the half-crazed troops. On gaining the brow of the buffalo ridge, Todd commanded a halt; then drawing a pistol from the holster of his saddle, he rode to the front of the lines, and, with eyes flashing fire, exclaimed:

"Men! we must have order! Without order we are lost. I command a halt; and the first man that moves from the ranks, officer or private, until so commanded, I swear to scatter his brains on the land he disgraces!"

His speech produced the desired effect; not a man ventured, by disobeying, to put his threat to the test; and after gazing on them sternly a few moments in silence, he turned to McGary, who was sitting his horse a few paces distant, and said:

"Sir! you have acted unbecoming, both as an officer and a gentleman; and if we two live through an engagement which I fear is near at hand, and which your rashness will have brought about, I will have you put under arrest and tried by court martial."

"As you please, Colonel Todd," replied McGary, with a fierce look. "But you will bear in mind, sir, that at the council yesterday, you scouted at the proposition advanced by Colonel Boone, and seconded by myself and others, of waiting for the reinforcements of Colonel Logan, and insinuated that we were cowards. As you, sir, were so very brave, and so eager for a fight when at a distance, I swore that, if we came where a fight could be had, I would either draw you into action, or forever damn you as a coward in the eyes of your soldiers. If I have succeeded, I rest satisfied to let you do your worst."

"Resume your place, sir! and break an order this day at your peril!" cried Todd, sharply, his face flushed with indignation.

As McGary slowly obeyed, Todd called to Boone, Trigg, and one or two others, with whom he held a short consultation as to the propriety of sending forward scouts before advancing with the main army. This being decided in the affirmative, Isaac Younker and another individual were selected from the ranks, and appointed to go on the dangerous mission; with orders to follow the buffalo trace and examine it carefully on both sides—particularly round about the ravines—and if they saw any traces of Indians, to hasten back with all speed; but if not, to continue their examination for a half mile further on, where the great trace gradually became lost in lesser paths, which branched off in every direction.

Immediately on the departure of these two scouts, the troops were drawn up in a long line, ready for action at a moment's notice. Colonel Trigg commanded the Harrodsburgh forces on the right; Colonel Boone the Boonesborough soldiers on the left; and Colonel Todd, assisted by Majors McGary and McBride, the Lexington militia in the center. Major Harlan led the van, and Major Levi Todd brought up the rear. This was the order in which they went into battle.



CHAPTER XIX.

THE BATTLE OF BLUE LICKS

In less than an hour, Isaac and his companions returned, and reported that they had seen no signs of Indians whatever. On the receipt of this intelligence, the order to march was immediately given, and the whole body of soldiers, under the scorching rays of an August sun, moved rapidly forward. Nothing occurred to interrupt their progress, until the van had reached within a few yards of the ravines before mentioned, when the appalling truth of a tremendous ambuscade of the savages suddenly became known, by the pouring therefrom, into their ranks, a terrible volley, which carried with it death, terror and confusion. Never were soldiers taken more by surprise, and at greater disadvantage to themselves, both as to numbers and position. They had relied upon the report of the scouts, who had themselves been deceived by the quiet of everything about the ravines; and now here they were, less than two hundred in number, on an open spot, exposed to the deadly rifles of more than five hundred Indian warriors, who were lying concealed among the dark cedars of the ravines.

The first fire was severely destructive, particularly on the right, where the gallant Colonel Trigg fell mortally wounded, and was soon after tomahawked and scalped. With him went down several officers of inferior grade, and a large portion of the Harrodsburgh troops; but, undaunted, his little band of survivors returned the fire of the Indians, and, assisted by those in the rear, pressed forward like heroes to the support of the center and van, where the work of death and carnage was now becoming terrible.

"Onward!" shouted Colonel Todd, as he rode to and fro, animating his men by his voice and gestures: "Onward, my noble soldiers, and strike for your country and firesides! Oh God!" exclaimed he the next moment, as a ball pierced his breast; "I am mortally wounded; but strike! press on, and mind me not!"

As he spoke, he reeled in his saddle, the rein slipped from his grasp, and his fiery steed rushed away, bearing him to the enemy and his untimely doom.

"Fight, my lads, and falter not!" cried Major Harlan in the van; and the next moment his horse went down, some five or six balls lodged in his body, and he fell to rise no more.

But his men remembered their orders, and fought without faltering, until but three remained alive to tell the fate of the party.

"At 'em, lads!—don't spare the varmints!" said Boone, as he urged the left wing into action; and the immediate report of more than fifty rifles in that quarter, told him he was obeyed. In this wing fought Algernon, Isaac, the brother and son of Boone, with a heroic desperation worthy of Spartans; and at every fire an Indian went down before each of their deadly rifles.

But what could avail heroism here on that ill-fated day? Our brave little band of Kentuckians was opposed by a foe of treble their number; who, on their first terrible fire being expended, rushed forth from their covert, with horrible yells, tomahawk in hand, and, gradually extending their lines down the buffalo trace, on either side, so as to cut off the retreat of the whites, closed in upon them in overwhelming numbers, and the slaughter became immense. Major McGary rushed his horse to and fro among the enemy, and shouted and fought with all the desperate impetuosity of his nature. Major Todd did his best to press on the rear, and Colonel Boone still urged his men to the fight with all the backwoods eloquence in his power. But, alas! of what avail was coolness, impetuosity, or desperation now? The Indians were closing in thicker and thicker. Officers and privates, horsemen and footmen, were falling before the destructive fire of their rifles, or sinking beneath their bloody tomahawks, amid yells and screeches the most diabolical. Cries, groans, and curses, resounded on every hand, from the living, the wounded, and dying. But few now remained in command. Colonels Todd and Trigg, Majors Harlan and McBride, Captains Bulger and Gordon, with a host of other gallant officers, were now no more. Already had the Indians enclosed them as in a net, hemmed them in on all sides, and they were falling as grass before the scythe of the mower. Retreat was almost cut off—in a few minutes it would be entirely. They could hope for nothing against such odds, but a certain and bloody death. There was a possibility of escape. A few minutes and it would be too late. They hesitated—they wavered—they turned and fled; and now it was that a horrible sight presented itself.

The space between the head of the ravines and the ford of the river a distance of more than a mile, suddenly became the scene of a hard and bloody race. As the whites fled, the Indians sprung after them, with whoops and yells that more resembled those of infuriated demons than human beings; and whenever an unfortunate Kentuckian was overtaken, he instantly fell a victim to the tomahawk and scalping knife. Those who were mounted generally escaped; but the foot suffered dreadfully; and the whole distance presented an appalling sight of bloody, mangled corses, strewing the ground in every direction. Girty, the renegade, was now at the height of his hellish enjoyment. With oaths and curses, and horrid laughter, his hands and weapons reeking with blood of the slain, he rushed on after new victims, braining and scalping all that came within his reach.

At the river the carnage was in no wise abated. Horsemen and footmen, victors and vanquished, rushed down the slope, pell-mell, and plunged into the stream—some striving for life and liberty, some for death and vengeance—and the dark rolling waters went sweeping on, colored with the blood of the slaughtered.

An act of heroic gallantry and presence of mind here occurred, which has often been mentioned in history, tending to check somewhat the blood-thirsty savages, and give many of the fugitives time to escape. Some twelve or fifteen horsemen had already passed the ford in safety, and were in the act of spurring forward, regardless of the fate of their unfortunate companions on foot, when one of their number, a man by the name of Netherland, who had previously been accused of cowardice, suddenly shouted, as if giving the word of command:

"Halt! Fire on the Indians, and protect the men in the river!"

The order was obeyed, in the same spirit it was given; and the sudden discharge of more than a dozen rifles, made the infuriated savages recoil in dismay, and thereby saved many a poor fellow's life. The reaction, however, speedily followed. Many of the savages now swam the river above and below the ford, and gave chase to the fugitives for fifteen and even twenty miles—though with but little success after crossing the stream—as the latter generally plunged into the neighboring thickets, and so eluded the vigilance of the former.

Such were the general features of the disastrous battle of Blue Licks—a battle of dreadful import to the pioneers of Kentucky—which threw the land into mourning, and made a most solemn and startling impression upon the minds of its inhabitants. Had we space to chronicle individual heroism, we might fill page after page with brave and noble achievements; but as it is, we shall confine ourself to those connected with our most prominent characters.

We have stated previously, that Algernon Reynolds fought in the left wing, under the command of Boone; where, for the few minutes which the action lasted, he sustained himself with great gallantry; and, by his undaunted courage, inspired those immediately around him with like ardor. On the retreat of the whites, he found himself cut off from the river by a large body of Indians, headed by his old foe, Simon Girty, who, having recognized him, was now pressing forward with several stalwart warriors, to again make him prisoner. For the first time since the commencement of the battle, he felt his heart sink. To be taken alive was a thousand times worse than death, and escape seemed impossible. However, there was no time for consideration; another moment might be fatal; his foes were upon him; it was now or never. Luckily he was mounted on a fiery steed—which had thus far escaped a scratch—and had one undischarged pistol in his holster. This he drew forth as his last hope; and, tightening the rein, wheeled his horse and spurred down upon his enemies with tremendous velocity.

"I have you now, by ——!" cried the renegade.

As he spoke, he sprung forward to grasp the bridle of Algernon's horse; but stumbled and fell, and the beast passed over him, unfortunately though without doing him any injury.

But Algernon had not yet got clear of his enemies; for on the fall of Girty, he found himself surrounded by a host of savages, whooping and yelling frightfully, and his direct course to the river cut off by a body of more than a hundred. There was only one point, and that a few yards to his left, where there appeared a possibility of his breaking through their lines. In the twinkling of an eye, and while his horse was yet under full headway, his decision was made. Rushing his steed hard to the right, in order to deceive his foes, he suddenly wheeled him again to the left; and the side of the beast striking against some three or four of the Indians, who were on the point of seizing his rein, staggered them back upon their companions, creating no little confusion. Taking advantage of this, our hero, with the speed of a flying arrow, bore down upon the weakest point; where, after shooting down a powerful savage, who had succeeded in grasping his bridle and was on the point of tomahawking his horse, he passed their lines, amid a volley of rifle balls, which cut his clothes in several places, but left himself and steed unharmed.

The worst of the danger now seemed over; but still his road ahead was beset with Indians, who were killing and scalping all that fell in their power; and behind him were the infuriated renegade and his party now in hot pursuit. His steed, however, was strong and fleet, and he put him to his wind; by which means he not only distanced those behind him, but passed one or two parties in front unharmed. About half way between the ravines and the river, he overtook Major McGary, and some five or six other horsemen, who were dashing forward at a fast gallop; and checking his fiery beast somewhat, he silently joined them. A little further on, Reynolds observed an officer on foot, who, exhausted by his recent exertions, and lame from former wounds, had fallen behind his companions. On coming up, he recognized in the crippled soldier the brave Captain Patterson; and with a magnanimity and self-sacrifice worthy of all imitation, he instantly reined in his horse and dismounted, while the others kept upon their course.

"Sir!" cried he to Patterson; "you are, I perceive, fatigued and weak. Your life is in great danger. Mount, sir—mount! I am fresh and will take my chance on foot."

"God bless you, sir!—God bless you for this noble act!" exclaimed Patterson, as Reynolds assisted him, into the saddle. "If I escape—"

"Enough!" said Reynolds, hurriedly, interrupting him. "Fly, sir—fly! God be with you! Adieu!"

And turning away as he spoke, he sprung down the side of the ridge, and running along the edge of the river some little distance, plunged into the water and swam to the opposite shore. Unfortunately for our hero, he had changed his garments at Bryan's Station, and now wore a pair of buckskin breeches, which, in swimming the stream, had become so soaked and heavy that he was obliged to remove them in order to display his usual agility. While seated upon the bank and occupied in this manner, he was startled by a hand being placed upon his shoulder, and the familiar grunt of an Indian sounding in his ear. On looking up, he at once recognized the grim features of Wild-cat, and saw himself in the power of some half a dozen savages.

"Me wanty you," said Wild-cat, quietly. "Kitchokema give much for Long Knife. Come!"

There was no alternative now; and Algernon rose to his feet, and suffered his weapons to be taken from him, with what feelings we leave the reader to imagine. Taking him along, the savages set forward, on the alert for other game; and presently three of them darted away in chase of a party of whites; and directly after, two others, leaving our hero alone with Wild-cat. Hope now revived that he might yet escape; nor was he this time disappointed; for after advancing a short distance, Wild-cat stooped down to tie his moccasin; when Reynolds immediately sprung upon him, knocked him down with his fist, seized his rifle, tomahawk, and knife, fled into the thicket, and reached Bryan's Station, during the night succeeding, unscathed.[24]

Throughout the short but severe action at the ravines, Boone maintained his ground with great coolness and courage, animating his soldiers by word and deed, until the rout became general, when he found it necessary, to prevent falling into the hands of the enemy, to have recourse to immediate flight. As he cast his eyes around him for this purpose, he saw himself cut off from the ford by the large body of Indians, through whose lines our hero was even then struggling. At this moment he heard a groan which attracted his attention; and looking down, he perceived his son Israel lying on the ground, scarcely five paces distant, weltering in his blood. With all a father's feelings of affection and alarm, he instantly sprung from his horse, and, raising the youth in his arms, darted into the nearest ravine, and made with all speed for the river. A few of the Indians were herein concealed, who discharged their rifles at him as he passed, without injury, and then joined in pursuit. One, a powerful warrior, having outstripped his companions, was rushing upon the old woodsman with his tomahawk, when the latter, with backwoods celerity, instantly raised his rifle and shot him through the body. Finding himself hard pressed, and that his son was already in the agonies of death, the old hunter strained him for the last time to his heart, with choking emotion, pressed his lips to those already growing cold, and then, with a groan of agony, left him to his fate and the scalping-knife of the savage, while he barely made his own escape by swimming the river below the bend. To him this was a mournful day—never to be forgotten—and one that, even long, long years after, could never be mentioned but with tears.

In this action the brother of Boone was wounded; but in company with Isaac Younker, and some three or four others, he succeeded in making his escape.

On the day of the battle, Colonel Logan arrived at Bryan's Station with a command of four hundred and fifty soldiers. On learning that the garrison with their reinforcements had gone the day preceding in pursuit of the Indians, and fearful of some disaster, he resolved on a forced march to give them assistance as soon as possible. For this purpose he immediately set forward on their trail; but had advanced only a few miles, when he met a party of the fugitives returning from the scene of slaughter. They were alarmed and excited, and of course their account of the battle was greatly exaggerated, believing as they did that they were the only escaped survivors. Their report, to say the least, was very startling, allowing that only the half were true; and in consequence, Logan decided on retracing his steps to the station, until he should be able to collect more definite news concerning the fight. Gradually one party after another came dropping in; and by nine o'clock nearly or quite all of the survivors were assembled in the fortress; when it was ascertained that a little over one-third of the party, or between sixty and seventy of those engaged in the battle, were missing. It was a sad night of wailing, and lamentation, and dreadful excitement in the station; for scarcely a family there, but was mourning the loss of some friend or relation. Algernon and Isaac had returned, to the great joy of those most interested in their welfare; but the father-in-law of the latter came not, and there was mourning in consequence.

A consultation between Colonels Logan and Boone, resulted in the decision to march forthwith to the battle-ground. Accordingly every thing being got in readiness, Colonel Logan set out with his command, at a late hour the same night, accompanied by Boone, and a few of the survivors of the ill-fated engagement. Towards morning a halt of three hours was ordered for rest and refreshment: when the line of march was again taken up; and by noon of the day succeeding the battle, the forces arrived upon the ground, where a most horribly repulsive scene met their view.

The Indians had departed on their homeward route, bearing their killed and wounded away from the field of carnage; but the dead and mutilated bodies of the whites still remained where they had fallen, presenting a spectacle the most hideous and revolting possibly to be conceived. In the edge of the stream, on the banks, up the ridge, and along the buffalo trace to the ravines, were lying the bloody and mangled corses of the gallant heroes—who, the day before, full of ardor and life, had rushed on to the battle and an untimely and inglorious death—now swollen, putrid, and in the first stage of decomposition, from the action of the scorching rays of an August sun—surrounded by vultures and crows, and all species of carrion fowl; many of which, having gorged themselves on the horrid repast, were either sweeping overhead in large flocks, and screeching their funeral dirges, or wiping their bloody bills on the neighboring trees. Some of the bodies in the stream had been gnawed by fishes—others by wolves—and all had been so disfigured, by one means and another, that but very few could be recognized by their friends.

"Great Heaven! what a sight!" exclaimed Colonel Logan, as he ran his eye over the scene.

"A dark and terrible day for Kaintuck," answered Boone, who was standing by his side; and as he spoke, the old hunter turned away his head to conceal his emotion; for his mind reverted to the death of his noble son.

Orders were now given by Colonel Logan, to have the bodies collected, and interred in a manner as decent as circumstances would permit. This being accomplished, he returned with his men to Bryan's Station, and there dismissed them—it not being thought advisable to pursue the enemy further. In this ever memorable battle of Blue Licks, the Kentuckians had sixty killed, twelve wounded, and seven taken prisoners, most of whom were afterwards put to the tortures. As we said before, it was a sad day for Kentucky, and threw the land into mourning and gloom. Colonels Todd and Trigg, and Majors Harlan and McBride, were men beloved and respected in life, and bitterly lamented in death by a long list of true-hearted friends.

The great trace where the battle was fought, is now green with low branching cedars; and a solitary monument near by, informs the curious spectator of the sad disaster of by gone times. The Blue Lick Springs are much resorted to in the summer season by invalids and others, for whose convenience a magnificent hotel stands upon the banks of the lovely and romantic Licking.

A few words more and our general history will be closed. On receiving the intelligence of the battle of Blue Licks, General Clark—who then occupied a fort at the Falls of the Ohio, on the present site of Louisville—resolved upon another expedition to the enemy's country; for which purpose it was proposed to raise an army of one thousand men, who, under their respective commanders, should congregate opposite the mouth of the Licking, on the present site of Cincinnati. The interior and upper country were to rendezvous at Bryan's Station, under the command of Colonels Logan and Floyd; and the lower settlements at the Falls of Ohio, under General Clark; who, on all parties arriving at the grand rendezvous, was to be commander-in-chief of the expedition. One thousand mounted riflemen were raised without a draft, who marched upon the enemy in their own country, destroyed their villages, provisions, and cornfields, took several prisoners, and carried with them so much terror and desolation, that the Indians never sufficiently recovered from the shock to renew hostilities in a formidable body; and the Kentuckians henceforth, save in individual cases, were left unmolested.

On their march they came upon the rear of Girty's party, returning from their successful battle; but an Indian scout gave the renegade and his companions warning in time for them to escape the whites by flight. In this expedition, Colonel Boone volunteered and served as a private; being the last in which the noble old hunter was ever engaged in defence of the settlements of Kentucky. Algernon Reynolds and Isaac Younker were his companions in arms; who, on the dismissal of the troops, returned again to Bryan's Station.

[Footnote 24: It may perhaps add interest to the story, for the reader to know that the foregoing account concerning Reynolds and Captain Patterson, is historically true; as is also the one which follows with regard to Boone and his son.]



CHAPTER XX.

THE FINALE.

Month upon month rolled away, quiet succeeded to the alarm and commotion of war, hostilities between Great Britain and America ceased, and the country both east and west now began to look up from the depression and gloom which had pervaded it during its long and sanguinary struggle for independence. In Kentucky the effect was really invigorating; and the settlers, who for a year past had been driven from their homes in terror and dismay—who had quitted their peaceable farming implements for the destructive weapons of strife and bloodshed—now ventured to return to their desolate firesides, and renew their honest occupations of tilling the soil. Some, however, more predisposed to financiering than their neighbors, sought only speculation; in consequence whereof the Land Offices of the Virginia Commissioners—which opened in November, after the return of the troops under Clark—were daily thronged with applicants for the best locations; whereby was laid the first grand corner-stone of subsequent litigation, disaffection, and civil discord among the pioneers. But with these, further than to mention the facts as connected with the history of the time, we have nothing to do; and shall now forthwith pass on to the finale of our story.

Month upon month, as we said before, had rolled away, spring had come, and with it had departed many of those who had occupied Bryan's Station during the siege of August; but still, besides the regular garrison and their families, a few of the individuals who had sought refuge therein, yet remained; among whom we may mention Mrs. Younker, Ella, Isaac and his wife, and so forth. Algernon, too—by the entreaty of his friends, and contrary to his previous calculations, and what he considered his duty—had been induced to defer his departure until the opening of spring. Possibly there might have been a secret power, stronger than the mere entreaties of others, which had prevailed over his resolution to depart; but further the records say not. Be that as it may, the extreme limit of time which he had set for remaining, was now nearly expired; and he was, at the moment when we again present him to the reader, engaged in conversation with Ella on the painful subject. Suddenly he was startled by the information that a stranger in the court desired to speak with him.

"A stranger!" exclaimed Algernon, in surprise; and as he spoke, his face became very pale, his lips quivered, and his hands trembled. Turning upon Ella a look of agony, which seemed to say, "I am an arrested felon," he wheeled upon his heel, and followed the messenger in silence; while she, knowing the cause of his agitation, and fearful of the worst, sunk almost lifeless upon a seat.

As Algernon passed out of the cottage, he beheld, in the center of the common, a well dressed, good-looking individual, who was standing on the ground and holding by the bridle a horse, which, as well as the rider himself, appeared both travel-stained and weary. Approaching the stranger with a firm step, but with a pale countenance and throbbing heart, he said:

"I understand, sir, you have business with me."

"Your name, then," returned the other, quietly, "I presume to be Algernon Reynolds?"

"The same."

"You are, too, I infer, a native of ——, Connecticut, and son of Albert Reynolds of that place?"

"Again right," answered Algernon, in a voice which, in spite of himself, was a little tremulous.

"Then, sir," rejoined the stranger, with a satisfied air, "I may say that I have business with you, and of vast importance. A long chase you have led me, i' faith; and weeks of travel have you cost me; so you may rest assured that I am happy in finding you at last."

"Proceed!" said Algernon, compressing his lips, as one whose mind is made up for the worst. "Proceed, sir. I know your mission."

"The deuce you do!" replied the other, in astonishment; "then you must have a very remarkable faculty for divining secrets. I rather guess you are mistaken though," he added, as he drew forth a couple of letters from a side pocket; "but these will inform you whether you are or not."

Seizing the proffered letters with trembling eagerness, Algernon hastily glanced at their superscription; then, breaking the seals, he devoured their contents with the utmost avidity; while the stranger stood noting the varying expressions of his handsome countenance, with a quiet smile. At first his pale features seemed flushed with surprise—then became radiant with joy—and then gradually saddened with sorrow; yet a certain cheerfulness prevailed over all—such as he had not exhibited for many a long month. As he finished a hasty perusal of the epistles, he turned to the stranger, grasped his hand, and, shaking it heartily, while tears of joy filled his eyes, exclaimed:

"I was mistaken, sir—God be thanked! God bless you too, sir! for being the messenger of peace between myself and conscience. Excuse me. Tarry a moment, sir, and I will send some one to take charge of your weary beast, and show yourself a place of rest and refreshment."

As he spoke, Algernon darted away toward the cottage. Observing Isaac, he ran to and caught him by the hand:

"Isaac," he said, in a gay tone, while his eyes sparkled with delight, "wish me joy! I have good news. I—but stay; I forgot; you know nothing of the matter. Oblige me, though, by showing yonder gentleman and his beast due hospitality;" and wringing his hand, he sprung into the apartment where Ella was sitting alone, leaving Isaac staring after him with open mouth, and wondering whether he were in his right senses or not.

"Ella!" he exclaimed, wildly, as he suddenly appeared before her with a flushed countenance: "Ella, God bless you! Listen. I—I am free! I am no longer a criminal, thank God! These, Ella—these!" and he held aloft the letters with one hand, and tapped them nervously with the other.

The next moment his features grew pale, his whole frame quivered, and he sunk upon a seat, completely overcome by the nervous excitement produced by the sudden transition from despair to hope and freedom.

Ella was alarmed; and springing to him, she exclaimed:

"For Heaven's sake! Algernon, what is the matter?—what has happened?—are you in your senses? Speak!—speak!"

"Read!" answered he, faintly, placing the letters in her hand: "Read, Ella—read!"

Ella hesitated a moment on the propriety of complying with his request, but a moment only; and the next she turned to one of the epistles. It was from the father of Algernon, and ran as follows:

"DEAR SON:—If in the land of the living, return as speedily as possible to your afflicted and anxious parents, who are even now mourning you as dead. You can return in safety; for your cousin, whom you supposed you had fatally wounded, recovered therefrom, and publicly exonerated you from all blame in the matter. He is now, however, no more—having died of late. Elvira, his wife, is also dead. She died insane. As a partial restitution for the injury done you, your cousin has made you heir, by will, to all his property, real estate and personal, amounting, it is said, to over twenty thousand dollars. Your mother is in feeble health, caused by anxiety on your account. For further information, inquire of the messenger who will bear you this.