In the year 1787, the following incident occurred in Bourbon county
Kentucky. One morning, about sun rise, a young man of wild and savage
appearance, suddenly arose from a cluster of bushes in front of a cabin,
and hailed the house in a barbarous dialect, which seemed neither exactly
Indian nor English, but a collection of shreds and patches from which the
graces of both were carefully excluded. His skin had evidently once been
white--although now grievously tanned by constant exposure to the weather.
His dress in every respect was that of an Indian, as were his gestures,
tones and equipments, and his age could not be supposed to exceed twenty
years. He talked volubly, but uncouthly, placed his hand upon his breast,
gestured vehemently, and seemed very earnestly bent upon communicating
something. He was invited to enter the cabin, and the neighbors quickly
collected around him. He appeared involuntarily to shrink from contact
with them--his eyes rolled rapidly around with a distrustful expression
from one to the other, and his whole manner was that of a wild animal,
just caught, and shrinking from the touch of its captors.--As several
present understood the Indian tongue, they at length gathered the
following circumstances as accurately as they could be translated, out of
a language which seemed to be an "omnium gatherum" of all that was
mongrel, uncouth and barbarous. He said that he had been taken by the
Indians, when a child, but could neither recollect his name, nor the
country of his birth.--That he had been adopted by an Indian warrior, who
brought him up with his other sons, without making the slightest
difference between them, and that under his father's roof, he had lived
happily until within the last month. A few weeks before that time, his
father, accompanied by himself and a younger brother, had hunted for some
time upon the waters of the Miami, about forty miles from the spot where
Cincinnati now stands, and after all their meat, skins, &c., had been
properly secured, the old man determined to gratify his children by taking
them upon a war expedition to Kentucky. They accordingly built a bark
canoe, in which they crossed the Ohio, near the mouth of Licking, and
having buried it, so as to secure it from the action of the sun, they
advanced into the country and encamped at the distance of fifteen miles
from the river. Here their father was alarmed by hearing an owl cry in a
peculiar tone, which he declared boded death or captivity to themselves,
if they continued their expedition--and announced his intention of
returning without delay to the river. Both of his sons vehemently opposed
this resolution, and at length prevailed upon the old man to disregard the
owl's warning, and conduct them, as he had promised, against the frontiers
of Kentucky. The party then composed themselves to sleep, but were quickly
awakened by the father, who had again been warned in a dream that death
awaited them in Kentucky, and again besought his children to release him
from his promise and lose no time in returning home. Again they prevailed
upon him to disregard the warning, and persevere in the march. He
consented to gratify them, but declared he would not remain a moment
longer in the camp which they now occupied, and accordingly they left it
immediately, and marched on through the night, directing their course
towards Bourbon county. In the evening they approached a house, that which
he hailed and in which he was now speaking. Suddenly the desire of
rejoining his people occupied his mind so strongly as to exclude every
other idea, and seizing the first favorable opportunity, he had concealed
himself in the bushes, and neglected to reply to all the signals which had
been concerted for the purpose of collecting their party when scattered.
This account appeared so extraordinary, and the young man's appearance was
so wild and suspicious, that many of the neighbors suspected him of
treachery, and thought that he should be arrested as a spy. Others opposed
this resolution and gave full credit to his narrative. In order to satisfy
themselves, however, they insisted upon his immediately conducting them to
the spot where the canoe had been buried. To this the young man objected
most vehemently, declaring that although he had deserted his father and
brother, yet he would not betray them. These feelings were too delicate to
meet with much sympathy from the rude borderers who surrounded him, and he
was given to understand that nothing short of conducting them to the point
of embarkation, would be accepted as an evidence of his sincerity.--With
obvious reluctance he at length complied. From twenty to thirty men were
quickly assembled, mounted upon good horses, and under the guidance of the
deserter, they moved rapidly towards the mouth of Licking. On the road the
young man informed them that he would first conduct them to the spot,
where they had encamped when the scream of the owl alarmed his father, and
where an iron kettle had been concealed in a hollow tree. He was probably
induced to do this from the hope of delaying the pursuit so long as to
afford his friends an opportunity of crossing the river in safety. But if
such was his intention, no measure could have been more unfortunate.
[Illustration: THE SURPRISE.]
The whites approached the encampment in deep silence, and quickly
perceived two Indians, an old man and a boy, seated by the fire and busily
engaged in cooking some venison.--The deserter became much agitated at the
sight of them, and so earnestly implored his countrymen not to kill them,
that it was agreed to surround the encampment, and endeavor to secure them
as prisoners. This was accordingly attempted, but so desperate was the
resistance of the Indians, and so determined were their efforts to escape,
that the whites were compelled to fire upon them, and the old man fell
mortally wounded, while the boy, by an incredible display of address and
activity, was enabled to escape. The deserter beheld his father fall, and
throwing himself from his horse, he ran up to the spot where the old man
lay bleeding, but still sensible, and falling upon his body, besought his
forgiveness for being the unwilling cause of his death, and wept bitterly.
His father evidently recognized him, and gave him his hand, but almost
instantly afterwards expired. The white men now called upon him to conduct
them at a gallop to the spot where the canoe was buried, expecting to
reach it before the Indian boy and intercept him. The deserter in vain
implored them to compassionate his feelings. He urged that he had already
sufficiently demonstrated the truth of his former assertions, at the
expense of his father's life, and earnestly entreated them to permit his
younger brother to escape. His companions, however, were inexorable.
Nothing but the blood of the young Indian would satisfy them, and the
deserter was again compelled to act in the capacity of a guide.
Within two hours they reached the designated spot. The canoe was still
there, and no track could be seen upon the sand, so that it was evident
that their victim had not yet arrived. Hastily dismounting, they tied
their horses and concealed themselves within close rifle shot of the
canoe. Within ten minutes after their arrival the Indian appeared in
sight, walking swiftly towards them. He went straight to the spot where
the canoe had been buried, and was in the act of digging it up, when he
received a dozen balls through his body, and leaping high into the air
fell dead upon the sand. He was scalped and buried where he fell, without
having seen his brother, and probably without having known the treachery
by which he and his father had lost their lives. The deserter remained but
a short time in Bourbon, and never regained his tranquillity of mind. He
shortly afterwards disappeared, but whether to seek his relations in
Virginia or Pennsylvania, or whether disgusted by the ferocity of the
whites, he returned to the Indians, has never yet been known. He was never
heard of afterwards.
[Illustration: MORGAN AND THE INDIAN.]