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[Illustration: In a twinkling I was by his side, and there saw
that which caused the cold chill of fear to run down my
back.--Page 40. _Frontis. On the Kentucky Frontier._]
ON THE
KENTUCKY FRONTIER.
A STORY OF THE FIGHTING PIONEERS
OF THE WEST.
By JAMES OTIS
[Illustration]
With Six Page Illustrations by J. Watson Davis
NEW YORK:
A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER.
Copyright, 1900, by A. L. BURT.
ON THE KENTUCKY FRONTIER.
BY JAMES OTIS.
PREFACE.
"Poor Simon Kenton experienced the bitter effects of wrong, ingratitude,
and neglect. On account of some legal matters concerning his lands in
Kentucky, he was imprisoned for twelve months upon the very spot where
he built his cabin in 1775. In 1802, beggared by lawsuits and losses, he
became landless. Yet he never murmured at the ingratitude which pressed
him down, and in 1813 the veteran joined the Kentucky troops under
Shelby, and was in the battle of the Thames. In 1824, then seventy years
old, he journeyed to Frankfort, in tattered garments and upon a
miserable horse, to ask the legislature of Kentucky to release the
claims of the State upon some of his mountain lands. He was stared at by
the boys, and shunned by the citizens, for none knew him. At length
General Thomas Fletcher recognized him, gave him a new suit of clothes,
and entertained him kindly. When it was known that Simon Kenton was in
town, scores flocked to see the old hero. He was taken to the Capitol
and seated in the Speaker's chair. His lands were released, and
afterward Congress gave him a pension of two hundred and forty dollars a
year. He died, at the age of eighty-one years, in 1836, at his residence
at the head of Mad River, Logan County, Ohio, in sight of the place
where, fifty-eight years before, the Indians were about to put him to
death."
(Lossing's "Field-Book of the Revolution.")
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. SIMON KENTON 1
II. BESIEGED 24
III. THE VENTURE 45
IV. PAUL SAMPSON 68
V. DOWN THE OHIO 91
VI. ASTRAY 114
VII. THE CAPTIVE SCOUT 131
VIII. AT THE RENDEZVOUS 161
IX. KASKASKIA 184
X. CAHOKIA 208
XI. HOMEWARD BOUND 229
XII. A NOVEL BATTLE 251
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
IN A TWINKLING I WAS BY HIS SIDE AND THERE SAW THAT
WHICH CAUSED THE COLD CHILL OF FEAR TO RUN
DOWN MY BACK FRONTISPIECE.
THE BRUTE FELL, AS THOUGH STRUCK BY LIGHTNING AND
A CRY OF TRIUMPH RANG FROM MY LIPS 62
WITHIN FIVE SECONDS I HAD FIRED, USING THE CURL OF
VAPOR FOR A TARGET 103
WE ADVANCED FROM ONE PLACE OF SHELTER TO ANOTHER,
FIRING RAPIDLY 142
STRAIGHT UP TO THE BIG GATE WE ADVANCED BELIEVING
THAT IN THE NEXT SECOND WE SHOULD HEAR THE
ALARM GUN 204
FROM OUT OF OUR BARRICADE WHISTLED THREE BULLETS
AND EVERY ONE FOUND ITS MARK 258
ON THE KENTUCKY FRONTIER.
CHAPTER I.
SIMON KENTON.
It is my purpose to set down what I saw during such time as Simon Kenton
gave me my first lessons in woodcraft and it is well to make the
statement in advance in order that others may be deprived of the
opportunity of saying what would sound disagreeable:--that the pupil was
for a time so dull that one less patient and painstaking than Kenton
would have brought the lessons to a speedy close.
That which now seems the most difficult is to decide how I shall begin
this story of the little which I did on the Kentucky frontier during the
year of grace 1778, and I can hit upon no plan which promises better
success than that of copying here what I read in a printed book long
years after I, a green lad, set out to do my little share toward
bringing peace and a sense of security to the settlers who were striving
to make homes for themselves and their families in what was then known
as the colony of Virginia.
I make use of such a beginning because it appears to me as if the wise
man who thus explains the condition of affairs among us at that time,
tells in a few lines what I might struggle vainly over many pages of
paper to put into form one-half so concise and satisfactory:
"With the single exception of Dunmore's expedition in 1774, hostilities
west of the Alleghanies were nothing but a series of border conflicts,
each little party acting upon its own responsibility, until 1778, when
Major George Rogers Clarke led a regular expedition against the frontier
posts of the enemy in the wilderness. Clarke first went toward Kentucky
in 1772, when he paddled down the Ohio with the Reverend David Jones,
then on his way to preach the Gospel to the Western Indians.
"He was at once impressed with the importance of that fertile region,
and the necessity of making it a secure place for settlements. His mind
was clear and comprehensive; his personal courage of the truest stamp;
his energies, physical and mental, always vigorous, and he soon became
an oracle among the backwoods-men. During the years 1775 and 1776, he
traversed vast regions of the wilderness south of the Ohio, studied the
character of the Indians chiefly from the observations of others, and
sought to discover a plan by which a tide of emigration might flow
unchecked and secure into that paradise of the continent.
"He soon became convinced that the British garrisons at Detroit,
Kaskaskia, and Vincennes, were the nests of those vultures who preyed
upon the feeble settlements of the west, and deluged the virgin soil
with the blood of the pioneers. Virginia, to which province this rich
wilderness belonged, was at that time bending all her energies in
advancing the cause of independence within her borders east of the
Alleghanies, and the settlers west of the mountains were left to their
own defense.
"Major Clarke, convinced of the necessity of reducing the hostile forts
in the Ohio country, submitted a plan for the purpose to the Virginia
Legislature, in December, 1777. His scheme was highly approved, and
Governor Henry and his council were so warmly interested that Major
Clarke received two sets of instructions, one public, ordering him to
'proceed to the defense of Kentucky,' the other private, directing an
attack upon the British fort at Kaskaskia. Twelve hundred pounds were
appropriated to defray the expenses of the expedition; and the
commandant of Fort Pitt was ordered to furnish Clarke with ammunition,
boats, and other necessary equipments.
"His force consisted of only four companies, and they were all prime
men. Early in the spring they rendezvoused upon Corn Island, at the
falls of the Ohio, six hundred and seven miles by water, below Fort
Pitt. Here Clarke was joined by Simon Kenton, one of the boldest
pioneers of the west, then a young man of twenty-two years. He had been
acting as a spy for two years previously; henceforth he was engaged in a
more honorable, but not more useful, service."
Now that this much has been explained by another, I am still at a loss
to know how this poor story should be begun, and after much cudgeling of
my weak brain have decided to jump into the matter after the same
fashion that the events come into my memory after these many years of
peace and idleness.
On a certain morning in February, in the year 1778, I went out to look
after my traps, and had thrown myself down on the bank of the Ohio River
to decide a question which had been vexing me many days.
Never for a moment did I lose sight of the fact that it was necessary I
have my wits about me in case I counted on keeping my hair, for many a
scalp had been taken in that vicinity within the six months just passed,
and I believed that nothing larger than a squirrel could come within
striking distance, save by my own knowledge and consent.
Therefore it was I sprang up very suddenly in the greatest alarm when a
white man stood before me, having approached so silently that it was
almost as if he had come up through the very earth.
It is not to be supposed that Indians were the only beings in form of
men we settlers on the Ohio had reason to fear in those days; there were
many white men whose hearts were as black as those of the savages, and
who would draw bead on one of their kind from sheer love of spilling
blood, if no other reason presented itself.
As I have set down here, I sprang to my feet, rifle in hand, ready for
the first threatening movement on the part of the stranger; but he gave
little token of being an enemy.
His weapon was thrown across the hollow of his arm as he stood looking
at me in a friendly manner, and I might easily have shot him down,
unless he was quicker with a rifle than any other I had ever met.
A young fellow was this newcomer, hardly more than one and twenty, as it
then seemed to me, and there was that in his face which gave token that
he might be a close friend or a dangerous enemy, whichsoever way he was
approached.
"Out for fur?" he said rather than asked, glancing down at the traps
which lay near at hand.
I nodded; but remained on my guard, determined not to be taken at a
disadvantage by soft words.
"It is better to keep movin', than lay 'round where a sneakin' Injun
might creep up a bit too near," he said with a smile, as he seated
himself near the decaying tree-trunk on which I had left the traps.
"I would have sworn neither white nor red could have come upon me in the
fashion you did," I said hotly, and thoroughly ashamed of myself for
having been so careless.
"I reckon it might have puzzled an Injun to do the trick. If I couldn't
beat them at movin' 'round, my head would have been bare these five
years."
It sounded much like boasting, his claiming to be able to beat an Indian
at woodcraft, for at that time I believed the savages could outwit any
settler who ever lived; but before many weeks had passed I came to
understand that I had been sadly mistaken.
"Is that your cabin yonder under the big knoll?" he asked, more as if by
way of beginning a conversation than from curiosity.
"Yes; have you been there?"
"I looked it over; but didn't try to scrape acquaintance. Does your
mother live there?"
"Yes; she and I alone."
"What sent her down into this wilderness with no one but a lad like
yourself?" he asked, speaking as if he was twice my age, when, unless
all signs failed, he was no more than five years my elder.
"Father was with us when we came, last year. He was killed by the
murdering savage sneaks nearly two months ago."
"Why did you hold on here?" the stranger asked, eying me curiously.
"Surely the clearin' isn't so far along that it pays to risk your life
for it."
"Mother would have packed off; but I couldn't leave."
"Why?"
"It's a poor kind of a son who won't at least try to wipe off such a
score, and I'll hold on here till those who killed the poor old man have
found out who I am!"
Tears of mingled rage, grief, and helplessness came into my eyes as I
spoke thus hotly, and I wheeled around quickly lest this stranger,
seeing them, should set me down for a younger lad than I really was.
"It's quite a job you've shouldered," he said after a pause. "The Injuns
nearabout here ain't to be caught nappin' every hour in the day, and the
chances are your mother may find herself alone on the clearin' before
you have made any great headway in settlin' the score."
"Because you crept up on me, there is no reason why the red snakes can
do the same thing!" I cried angrily, whereupon he nodded gravely as if
agreeing with me, after which he asked:
"How old are you?"
"Must a fellow have seen so many years more or less before he can do the
work of a man?" I demanded, giving proof by my petulance that I was yet
little more than a child.
"It was not with anything of the kind in my mind that I asked the
question. Perhaps I wondered if you'd had the experience that'll be
needed before your work is done."
"I'm just turned sixteen," I replied, thoroughly ashamed of having
displayed an ill-temper.
"Where did you come from?"
"Pennsylvania."
"Was your father a Tory?" he asked.
"Indeed he wasn't!" and now I grew hot again. "He believed we might
better our condition by pushing into the wilderness, for when a man's
land is overrun by two armies, as ours had been, farming is a poor
trade."
Then he questioned me yet more closely until I had come to an end of my
short story, which began with the day we set out from the colony founded
by William Penn, and ended with that hour when I came across my poor
father's mangled body scarce half a mile from our clearing, where the
beasts in human form had tortured him.
All this I told the stranger as if he had been, an old friend, for there
was something, in his voice and manner which won my heart at once, and
when the sad tale was ended I came to understand he had not questioned
me idly.
"My name is Simon Kenton," he said, after a time of silence, as if he
was turning over in mind what I had told him. "The day I was sixteen I
took to the wilderness because of--there is no reason why that part of
it need be told. It was six years ago, an' in those years I've seen a
good bit of life on the frontier, though perhaps it would have been
better had I gone east an' taken a hand with those who are fightin'
against the king. But a soldier's life would raffle my grain, I reckon,
so I've held on out here, nearabout Fort Pitt, where there's been plenty
to do."
"Fort Pitt!" I exclaimed. "Why, that's a long distance up the river!"
"Six hundred miles or so."
"Are you down here trapping?" I asked, now questioning him as he had me.
"I'm headin' for Corn Island?"
"Then you haven't much further to go. Its no more than a dozen miles
down the river."
"So I guessed. I left my canoe over yonder, an' took to the shore partly
to find somethin' in the way of meat, and partly to have a look around."
Then it was, and before I could question him further, he told me why he
had come, the substance of which I have already set down in the language
of another. At that time he did not give me the story complete as it was
written by him whose words I quoted at the beginning of this tale; but I
understood the settlers were making a move against the British and
Indians, and it seemed to me a most noble undertaking, for, had not the
king's officers incited the savages to bloody deeds, the frontier might
have been a land of peace.
When he was come to an end of the story, and Simon Kenton was not one to
use more words than were necessary, I proposed that he go with me to my
home, for by this time it was near to noon, and I had suddenly lost all
desire to continue the work of setting traps.
He agreed right willingly, as if it favored his plans to do so, and we
two went back to the clearing, he moving through the thicket more like a
shadow than a stoutly built man whose weight seemed against such
stealthy traveling. Never had I seen such noiseless progress; a squirrel
would have given more token of his presence, and I wondered not that he
had been welcomed at Fort Pitt as a scout, spy, or whatever one may
please to call his occupation.
My mother made the young man welcome, as she would have done any I might
have brought in with me to our home in Pennsylvania, and out here in the
wilderness, where we had not seen a strange, yet friendly, face since my
poor father was murdered, she was rejoiced to meet one who might give us
news of the outside world.
Simon Kenton was not a polished man such as would be met within the
eastern colonies; but he gave every token of honest purpose, and it was
impossible to remain long in his company without believing him to be one
who would be a firm friend at all times.
We enjoyed his visit more than can be told, and then without warning he
broached that subject which had a great bearing upon all my life from
that moment.
"Why do you try to hold your mother here in the wilderness, Louis
Nelson?" he asked suddenly. "Surely a lad like yourself cannot hope to
make a clearing unaided, and it is but keeping her in great danger of a
cruel death."
"What other can I do?" I asked in surprise, having no inkling as to his
true meaning.
"Take her where she will at least be able to lie down at night without
fear of being aroused by the gleam of the scalping knife, or the flames
of her own dwelling," he replied decidedly.
"All we have in the world is here," my mother said half to herself.
"Then it will not be hard to leave it, for a boy of Louis' age should
be able to provide you with as good almost anywhere else."
I looked at him in open-mouthed astonishment, whereupon he said in such
a tone as forced one to believe he spoke only the truth:
"We have every reason to believe there will be bloody scenes hereabout
before Major Clarke has finished his work. You cannot hope to hold out
against the painted scoundrels who will roam up and down the river in
search of white blood that can be spilled. Send your mother back to Fort
Pitt by the boats that will soon be returnin', an' join me in this
expedition. You can go to her in the fall with money enough to provide
another home as good, or better, than this, an' what is of more account,
you'll have the satisfaction of knowin' that ate is in safety."
There is no good reason why I should set down here all the arguments
Simon Kenton used to persuade me to break up the home my father had
established, although in poor shape, at the cost of his life, nor yet
speak of his efforts to make my mother believe I would be in less danger
with Major Clarke's force than if I remained there struggling to make
headway against the encroachments of the wilderness, at the same time
that I would be forced to remain on the alert lest a pitiless, savage
foe take my life.
It is enough if I say that before the shadows of night began to lengthen
both my mother and myself were convinced he had given good advice, and
were ready to follow it as soon as a new day had dawned.
We decided to leave our poor belongings where they were, and set out
with Kenton next morning. Mother should go to Fort Pitt where she would
be protected, and I, with the consent of Major Clarke, was to enlist in
the troop which it was believed would drive out of the country those
unscrupulous British officers who were constantly striving to stir up
the savages against such of the settlers as believed the colonists had
good cause to rebel against the king.
Until a late hour did Simon Kenton sit with us two, telling of the many
adventures he had met with since the day he left his home in Fauquier
County, Virginia, six years before, and although the stories related to
deeds of daring and hairbreadth escapes, there was in his speech nothing
of boasting. It was as if he spoke of what some other person had done,
and without due cause for praise.
Never once did he speak of his reason for leaving home, and there was a
certain something in his manner which prevented me from asking any
questions. He told so much of his life story as seemed to him proper,
and we were content, believing him to be a young man of proven courage
and honest purposes.
Kenton and I slept on the skins in front of the fireplace, where I had
ever made my bed, and so little fear had we the enemy might be near,
that I never so much as looked out of doors after mother went up the
ladder which led to the rough attic she called her chamber.
It was the first time since my father's cruel death that I had not
circled around the cabin once or more to make certain everything was
quiet; the coming of this young man had driven from my mind all thought
of possible danger.
Those who live on the frontier sleep lightly, it is true; but they do
not waste much time in tossing about on the bed before closing their
eyes in slumber--and I was in dreamland within a very few moments after
stretching out at full length.
It seemed as if I had but just lost consciousness when I awakened to
find a heavy hand covering my mouth, and to hear Simon Kenton whisper:
"There is need for us to turn out. The sneakin' redskins have surrounded
the cabin. Are you awake?"
I nodded, for it would have been impossible to speak while his hand was
like to shut off my breath, and he rose softly to his feet.
It is not necessary for me to say that we on the Ohio in 1778 thought
first in the morning of our rifles, and never lay down at night without
having the trusty weapons where we could grasp them readily. Thus it was
that, when I followed Kenton's example, I rose up ready for a struggle.
Not a sound could I hear, save the soughing of the wind among the trees;
but I knew my companion had good cause for giving an alarm, and had
probably been on the alert while I was composing myself to sleep.
"Get word to your mother; but do not let her come down here," he
whispered when I joined him at the shuttered window, where he stood with
his ear to the crevice. "Make no noise, an' it may be we can take the
painted snakes by surprise, which will be a fine turnin' of the
tables."
I did as he directed, and heard my mother say in a low voice as I turned
to descend the ladder:
"Be careful, Louis, and do not expose yourself recklessly in order to
give our visitor the idea that you can equal him in deeds of daring."
Under almost any other circumstances I could have laughed at the idea
that I might even hope to equal such as Simon Kenton in bravery; but
with death lurking close at hand one does not give way to mirth, and I
hastened to the young man's side as a prayer of thankfulness went up
from my heart because it had so chanced he was with us when an
experienced head and arm were needed.
It is not my purpose to belittle myself. While looking up to our visitor
as an elder and one well versed in such warfare as was before us, I knew
full well I should not have acted a stupid part had I been alone. I
might fail to hold my own against the savages; but death would not have
been invited by my own folly.
The door, as well as the window shutters, was loopholed, and here Kenton
took his stand, stationing me at that side of the house nearest the
knoll, from where we might naturally expect the enemy would come.
My mother appeared before we had made all the arrangements for a fight,
and at once set about supplying us with ammunition and food in order
that we might not be forced to move from our posts in quest of either.
Then she took up my father's rifle, which was leaning against the side
of the hut nearest me, as if to show that it was her purpose to do
whatsoever lay in her power toward the defense, whereupon Kenton shook
his head disapprovingly, and might have made objection to being aided by
a woman; but before he could open his lips to speak the painted fiends
were upon us.
With whoops and yells they rose up close under the walls of the cabin,
where we might not be able to draw bead upon them, and at the same
instant a volley of rifle shots rang out as three bullets came inside
between the crevices of the logs.