[From _Autobiography of Dr. J. J. Polk_ (Louisville, Kentucky,
1867)]
In the early settlement of Kentucky, when the Indians still roved
through our dense forests, plundering and murdering the white
inhabitants, three men left Harrod's Station to search for their
horses that had strayed off. They pursued their trail through the rich
pea-vine and cane, that everywhere abounded, for many miles.
Frequently on their route they saw signs that a party of Indians were
in their vicinity, hence they took every step cautiously. Thus they
traveled all day. Toward night they were many miles from home, but
they continued their search until darkness and a cold rain that began
to fall drove them to take shelter in an old deserted log cabin,
thickly surrounded by cane and matted over with grape-vines. After
they had gained this pleasant retreat they held a consultation, and
agreed not to strike a fire, as the Indians, if any in the
neighborhood, knew the location of the cabin, and, like themselves,
might take shelter in it, and murder or expel the white intruders.
Finally, the three now in possession, concluded to ascend into the
loft of the cabin, the floor of which was clap-boards, resting upon
round poles. In their novel position they lay down quietly side by
side, each man holding his trusty rifle in his arms. Thus arranged,
they awaited the results of the night.
They had not been in their perilous position long when six well-armed
Indians entered the cabin, placed their guns and other implements of
warfare in one corner of the house, struck a light, and began to make
the usual demonstrations of joy on such occasions. One of our heroes
wished to know the number of the Indians--he was the middle man of the
three, and was lying on his back--and, as hilarity and mirth "grew
thick and fast" among the Indians, he attempted to turn over and get a
peep at things below. His comrades caught him on each side to keep him
from turning over, and, in the struggle, one of the poles broke, and
with a tremendous crash the clap-boards and the three men fell in the
midst of the Indians, who with a loud yell of terror fled from the
house, leaving their guns, and never returned.
The three men who had thus made a miraculous escape from the savage
foe, remained all night in quiet possession of the cabin, and in the
morning returned to the station with their trophies. Whenever the
three heroes met in after life they laughed over their strange
deliverance, and what they called "The Battle of the Boards."